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Sirius’s self control was holding on by a thread.
An ever-wavering, increasingly fragile thread.
He was sure that he’d been head over heels for Remus for the past three years of his life. Consciously? Only since January, when Remus had found Sirius crying and chainsmoking by the lake after being officially disowned, and handled it perfectly and Moony-ly. He didn’t say anything, only sitting by Sirius and letting him cry into his shoulder. After Sirius’s sobs had waned, Remus had whispered “You’re loved. Just ‘cause they’re… I don’t know, incapable… doesn’t mean you’re not lovable” into Sirius’s hair.
After that, feelings had barreled into Sirius like a truck, burying themselves into his skin like a million ticks.
By the time summer rolled around? He was flipped upside down, drowning in big, stupid Capital-L Love, and he couldn’t even lament in solitude. James’s home almost always had visitors, as Euphemia was so fond of hosting. Of course, she’d basically kidnapped Sirius the second he’d fallen out of their fireplace, beaten bloody and half-conscious. Sirius loved his new home, and the only thing that Euphemia loved more than having him home was having his friends over. She’d adored Pete since he and James had been in matching cribs, and accepted Sirius into the house faster than anyone he’d ever met. She gossiped over tea with Mary when Sirius used to bring her over as a girlfriend, and again when she returned as a best friend instead. She’d taught Marlene how to braid her hair when she was the only one that could match James’s quidditch intensity during summer practices. She treated Lily like a princess, always having wanted a daughter.
But Remus. Euphemia loved Remus.
She spoiled him rotten when he was present and complained when he had to leave. Don’t get him wrong, Sirius loved having him over too, but there was only so much he could take. He’d sit down at the breakfast table every morning only to have Euphemia immediately ask “When are we having Remus over again?”
Remus during the school year was one thing. Beautiful, but manageable, in his ratty sweaters with his teacups and scarves and book stacks, but during the summer? Sirius was struggling.
Remus loved to read in the sun, nap in the sun, stretch and swim and lounge obscenely in the sun. He was tanner and frecklier and confident enough to wear shorts and wide-open button ups, and Sirius was half losing his mind.
Sirius had been tripping over himself to the point where he was sure Remus had him figured out. All of his trademark suaveness seemed to disappear from his back pocket as soon as Remus was around, leaving him with nothing but his genuine self to woo him with.
Well, his genuine self and their desperate friends, who each mistook themselves for fantastic matchmakers. Sirius had found himself in all sorts of predicaments this summer when any of them came over, including but not limited to skinny dipping with Remus in the lake by the Potter manor, being trapped in the coat closet with him for three and a half hours, and of course, Spin the Bottle.
Now, Sirius enjoyed Spin the Bottle. At parties, where he knew half of the people, and could put on a silly show and make a new friend. Not with his 6 closest friends in the world.
Every single fucking night Euphemia hosted, Lily or Mary insisted on Spin the Bottle. Sirius had skimmed by so far, with feeble arguments about respinning when the bottle landed between Remus and anyone. He promised himself that he’d weasel his way out of kissing Remus if it was the last thing he did, once even frenching Peter to get out of it.
Truly, Sirius would take anything over everything that Remus would be. He would take a laughable, terrible kiss from a gagging Marlene over the unforgettable magic that he imagined Remus to be.
His luck ran out, however, on the fateful night that Lily had gifted him for his birthday. On his seventeenth, on his bedroom floor, everyone watched him twist the bottle with a flourish, drumrolling dramatically.
The bottle slowed, and slowed, and slowed, eventually creaking to a halt. With its nose pointed at Remus’s core. Sirius was almost sure that it found his exact mathematical midline. Remus squeezed his eyes shut and groaned dramatically, putting on an extra show and making everyone giggle, but Sirius was far beyond showiness, mouth dry and eyes wide.
Remus shrugged, rearranging his wiry legs and pulling them close to his chest. “We don’t have to.”
“What?” Marlene scoffed. “Yes you do, that’s literally the whole point of the game!”
“It’s his birthday! He doesn’t want to.” Remus tripped over his words, clearing his throat.
James flailed to lay backwards, yelling “BOOOOORINGGG” like an ancient eunuch.
Peter started up the chant, quickly corroborated by Lily. “Closet, closet, closet, closet–!”
Sirius blinked into the present, scrambling to his feet and raising an eyebrow at Remus. “You coming?”
Remus rolled his eyes but stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off of his pants as he followed Sirius to the hallway closet. As soon as the door shut, Remus all but melted as far as he could into the wall opposite Sirius. Sirius could see him looking down at his shoes in the dim light.
“We don’t have to…” Remus cleared his throat. “Do anything. I mean, I know you don’t want to, so I’ll just, like, mess up my hair or something.”
“What makes you think I don’t want to?” Sirius blinked, speaking breathlessly and without thought, like he’d just stopped running. Then again, hadn’t he? There were no more chances to run here, with his back against the wall and Remus’s stupid, freckly face well within kissing distance.
“Well, whenever we play these games —these stupid, twelve year old games— you avoid me like I’ve got the flu. And I get it, like, I know I’m not… y’know, the kind of person one would usually play these games with, so, uh… yeah. I mean, it’s not contagious or anything. Like, lycanthropy, I wouldn’t–”
Sirius burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Remus. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What? I’m just saying–” Even in the dark, Sirius could picture the red in Remus’s ears, had it memorized. He could almost feel the heat from this close.
“You seriously think I haven’t kissed you yet because you’re a werewolf?” Sirius giggled again, unable to help himself now.
“Well, partially, but I’m also, you know…” Remus fumbled for a little while, groping in the dark for his words. “I’m Remus.”
“I know.” Sirius snorted.
“Shut up. I mean that I’m not hot like James and Mary or stunning like Lily and Marlene or handsome like Pete or pretty as all the girls you date at school–” Remus bit his lip, stopping the deluge of synonyms and cutting himself off.
“Awe. You’re pretty, Moony.” Sirius couldn’t help another giggle bubbling up as he stroked a thumb over Remus’s eyebrow, able to find the biggest scar on his face even in the dark, dragging the pad of his finger down the bumpy tissue.
“Yeah, I– What?” Remus flushed more severely, trying to reorient himself as Sirius sidled closer. “Oh.”
Sirius’s arms tempered into a steel band around Remus’s waist. “Mhm.”
Sirius closed his eyes, embracing the victory of making it this far and succumbing to every possible future. He hadn’t quite prepared for chapped, gossamer lips, the smell of rosemary, or trembling fingers pressing little kisses of their own along his jaw. It was an eggshell kiss, everything balanced tediously on a cliff.
As quick and feathery as it started, it ended, so smoothly that Sirius wasn’t even sure it had until he heard Remus speak, a hoarse outline of breath.
“Sorry.”
Upon that, Sirius barrelled into him, tackling him in a kiss at risk to break both of their noses. Blood zipped through his veins like Neon gas, and Remus, after recovering from a moment of static panic, gave as good as he got. Sirius got his fingers into Remus’s sun-bleached curls, the way he’d been wanting to all summer, and his insides were pretty much reduced to watercolor after that, sensation pricking into his skin from every point of contact and sparkling like firecrackers.
It took a good amount of kissing to coax Remus out of his shell, but Sirius really could not complain when Remus was tucked against him, incapacitating him with rapid-fire virtuoso kisses, constantly switching their head positions and thus immediately euthanizing every attempt at thought or breath. Sirius fumbled for his shoulder and pushed Remus back a bit. Remus chased a little before coming to his senses and immediately stepping back, tucking his hands by his sides like a soldier.
Sirius laughed, panting. “Holy shit, Remus.”
Remus ducked his head shyly. “Yeah.”
Sirius was on the brink of leaning in again, but light quickly flooded the small closet, quiet filling with Lily’s excited gasp.
“Guys, they did it!” She squealed, running back into Sirius’s room to many cheers.
Remus raised his brows at Sirius, and they both burst into giggles.
“Well, until the next time a bottle picks me.” Remus nodded solemnly, mock formal.
Sirius just scoffed. “Next time you use wandless magic on the bottle, more like. Don’t think I didn’t see that.”
“Shut up.” Remus elbowed him as they raced back to Sirius’s room. “Worth it.”