Chapter Text
Sometimes Remus feels like wanting Sirius is going to kill him.
Sometimes he feels it would happen slowly, the weight of words unsaid crawling up his throat, want suffocating him, the very last dregs of his unfurled love clawing their way out of his heart.
Mostly, he sees his love in flashes. Flashes of want when Sirius stands a little too close, when he notices a new ring added to his collection, the guttural never-ending heat coiling in his abdomen whenever and wherever, that never seemed to tire, and was only relieved in the quiet hours of the night, when only the wolves prowled around and the owls hooted warnings.
Sometimes, like now, when Sirius approaches out of his bedroom, sleep-soft and bleary, he wants to bite, to hold, to claim. Remus knew moving in with Sirius after Hogwarts would never be easy, what with the frequent conquests he liked to parade about, seemingly meaningless hookup after hookup, and Remus simply gritted his teeth.
He couldn’t, wouldn’t ever, burden his friend with these deep rooted desires of his. Sirius had never expressed any kind of interest, but sometimes Sirius was a tactile person, and often, the lines of platonic blurred between them.
Was it normal for Sirius to be the one who refused to leave his bedside after the full moon? Was it strictly friendly that they never really got too close, afraid of that electrical charge that seemed to frequent all their interactions? Was it entirely reasonable for Sirius to vow he would change the Werewolf Register issued by the Ministry if it was the last thing he did? To let Remus see his softer side, eyes sometimes welling with tears when they would lose another person to the war?
Remus didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t want to know. This thing they had between them, was buttery and lucid, slipping through the fraught fingers of time and tainted with imprints of the war, still surging, and Remus would be damned if he did anything to disrupt the small semblance of peace he had in his life - his friendship with Sirius and their flat sanctuary.
He jumps a little, hearing the sound of Sirius banging the door open on the way into their shared kitchen, a habit that should be annoying but love softened the edges to something like endearing. Sirius always looks so soft in the morning, hair knotted and shirt rumpled. A complete contrast to what he usually is.
“I never understand why you choose to get up early, Moony.” Sirius said, his grey eyes roaming almost hungrily over Remus’ face, then to the stove where Remus decided to pull himself out of his reverie, and resume cooking the rashes of bacon the Ministry had issued them.
“It’s called preparation, Padfoot. Maybe you should try actually showing up to an Order meeting on time, then you would know.”
Sirius was notoriously late to all of the Order meetings, despite the meetings being actively held to prevent the deaths of yet more innocent people. But yet, when Sirius swaggered in, almost incandescent in his leather jacket, smelling of cigarettes and rock and roll, Remus felt nothing but visceral want.
Remus flipped the bacon rashers over, and served up two slices, alongside the eggs he’d cooked earlier. They didn’t have bread - couldn’t, it was in short supply - but he supposed it’d do. Sirius was sat on a barstool adjacent to the stove countertop, propping his face up with his elbows, following Remus’ movement with his eyes intently.
“Here you lazy sod-“ Remus started and went nowhere as Sirius steamrolled straight over him.
“Did you go out with Lockhart last night?”
Grey eyes roved over his expression, searching. Remus was confused as to how Sirius knew this, but surmised that Lockhart probably bragged about it, the git. He shifted his weight and brushed some of his curls off his forehead, considering his answer.
“Yes, but only for drinks. I didn’t…. didn’t bring him back, if that’s what you mean” Remus didn’t know why he was clarifying, but apparently he felt the need to prove himself to Sirius, a knee jerk reaction that said yes, yes I am loyal to whatever we are, whatever those looks you give me mean, when you go out with girls that have my hair and eyes and I don’t say anything, just know.
Sirius hummed in response, the corners of his mouth downturned. Remus felt his gaze catching for too long, and averted his eyes, reaching for The Daily Prophet, and started picking at his bacon.
“He’s a slimy bastard, you know.” Sirius almost spat, seemingly uncontrollably.
“Well you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Remus responded as evenly as he could, but it was common knowledge that Sirius and Gilderoy did not get along, as Sirius broke his sisters’ heart. Remus had felt like this thing with Lockhart was the closest way he could be with Sirius, so he kind of went along with it.
Sirius only scoffed, “You could do better,”
Remus finally looked him in the eyes, searching and seeing. Sirius’ gaze caught like a live wire, and Remus was suddenly to aware that their knees were brushing under the table, the gentle point of contact suddenly his anchor to the present.
“Oh yeah? Like you, Black?”
And, as Remus knew he would, Sirius retreated. He dropped his gaze, grey eyes averted and a rose dusted blush creeped up his neck.
“Quit it, Moony. I’m not… I’m not like that, you know that.”
And wasn’t that the truth.
You see, whereas Remus had figured out his sexuality as young as fourth year, watching the seventh year Quidditch team, Sirius on the other hand? He loudly proclaimed and paraded that he was straighter than a pole. It didn’t matter that he called Remus his moon, confessed dark stories about his mother when drunk or helped through every full moon without fail. He wasn’t like that.
Sirius rose quickly, refusing to acknowledge their thing again.
“I’ve… got some things to be doing. Order stuff with James. I’m gonna- gonna go now.”
Remus felt like his heart had just been churned through a butter mill and stomped through the cattle gate. He sighed, humming to acquiesce.
“Moony?” Sirius was looking at him again, always looking, looking, looking.
“Yes, Sirius?” I’d do anything for you.
“See you later? I can bring some of that chocolate you like?” Sirius looked almost hurt; half sad, half hopeful. He was halfway up to his room already, and he looked so small in the light that shaded the corridor, dust mites crawling through the air like melodies uncaptured.
“Okay, Sirius. See you later.” Remus offered a half smile, and Sirius full grin in response righted his world on its axis a little. Seemingly happy to have made Remus smile, Sirius turned and climbed up the stairs, none to wiser of the emotional upheaval Remus’ Tuesday morning had just been.