Work Text:
Remus readjusts his position on the couch in front of the fire. It's after dinner on a Friday night, still pre-curfew, and he, rather expectedly, finds himself nearly alone in the Gryffindor common room, curled up with a muggle novel. Most students are spending these couple free hours before night hits darting around the castle, making mischief and seeing friends before the true free time of the weekend starts. Even the other Marauders have found themselves otherwise occupied in this time: Peter is pursuing some passion project he organized with the professor in the greenhouses, James is getting in some last-minute, twilight quidditch practice, hoping to catch the eye of a certain redhead with his low-lit prowess, and Sirius is off on a turnabout the grounds with his girlfriend, Sarah. A date, or what passes as a date when you can’t leave school grounds except on approved weekends.
So Remus is left alone to sulk in the common room.
Not sulk. Read.
Because what does he have to sulk about? It's not like he’s head over heels for his best friend that could not be more out of his league.
Oh. Right.
Remus sighs, pulling his socked feet up to tuck his ankles together and propping his book on his now raised knee; he tries to refocus his eyes and his brain on the words on the page. Lizzie Bennett is off on holiday with her aunt and uncle, and Remus can take solace in the fact that at least she and Mr. Darcy eventually figure out how to communicate and find each other in the end.
But it doesn’t take long for his mind to drift again. He can’t help but sympathize just a bit with Mr. Darcy after his first failed proposal. He often imagines a similar nightmare scenario for himself: all of his worst traits picked out and laid before him as undeniable reasons for rejection. And it's not like Remus has a sprawling estate in the English countryside to lure Sirius back in and soften his heart.
Not that Sirius’ heart needs softening because Remus could never imagine Sirius truly being intentionally that cruel to him, but the fear refuses to evaporate. After all, he has way too much to lose if his love turns out to be unrequited, unlike Lizzie and Mr. Darcy’s. So Remus pines from afar. Or not that far.
Remus shakes his head, attempting to clear his mind again , but this time the sound of the portrait swinging open and someone coming through the common room entrance grabs his attention. He looks over to the portrait hole to find Sirius entering the common room. It's clear he’s been running his hands repeatedly through his hair, leaving rumpled, piecey waves falling around his shoulders and face. Remus’ heart flutters a little at the sight, but the small thrill is quickly overtaken by concern as he takes in the rest of the picture: the corners of Sirius’ mouth are downturned, his shoulders are pulled towards his ears, and his hands are clenched into tight fists.
Remus raises his hand and offers a soft half-smile as way of greeting as Sirius’ eyes scan the room. Sirius seems to untense a little as he half-heartedly lifts his own hand in return, but the effect is short-lived as he all but stalks across the common room to throw himself down on the couch next to Remus. Remus makes note of his page number and sets his book on the side table.
“You’re back earlier than expected.”
Sirius only grunts in response, turning in place to throw his feet up on the opposite armrest and landing his head half in Remus’ lap.
“Where’s your girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend anymore.”
Well, that would explain the less-than-stellar attitude after what should have been a pleasant walk in the crisp twilight air with a girl he ostensibly liked. Remus can’t help but pry, looking down at Sirius, whose gaze is set obstinately on some small, unremarkable piece of the wall across the room.
“Why not?”
“Didn’t wanna be...”
A scoff leaves Remus’ throat before he can catch it.
“Idiot.” How anyone wouldn’t want to be with Sirius Black is a mystery.
Remus’ hand falls into Sirius’ hair as he absentmindedly starts running his fingers over the curls. As Remus drops his feet back to the floor to leave proper space in his lap, Sirius shifts himself upwards, pushing his head properly onto Remus’ lap and further against the hand in his hair. He’s looking directly up at the taller boy’s face now, and Remus can feel Sirius’ scalp move as he furrows his brows.
“Moons?”
“Yeah?” The response comes out mumbled, seemingly instinctual, and it takes a second for him to look down, meeting the gray eyes that peer up from his lap.
Sirius doesn’t respond, and Remus can feel the furrow in his own brow matching the one below him.
Remus isn’t sure how much time passes before Sirius just barely shakes his head and takes a deep breath, letting it out loudly but slowly as he nestles further into the couch. “It’s nothing, Moony. I don’t really want to talk about it. Can we just—” he pauses, breaking eye contact to fixate on one of the buttons in the back of the couch, digging his fingers around it as well, “—stay here?”
“Of course, Pads.”
Remus waits a moment, but when Sirius seems content to lay there, quietly distracting himself with tracing the patterns on the couch fabric, he reaches for his book to pick up where he left off. With the backdrop of the crackling fire and quiet conversations from fellow students scattered around the room, they stay like that, Sirius occasionally inquiring after the contents of Remus’ book when he can feel the rumble of laughter or sharp intake of breath from his place next to Remus’ stomach, content in the comfortable semi-silence until James and Peter come back from their evenings’ festivities, and they all head up to bed. Remus pointedly ignores the raised eyebrows and grin that James throws at him as they jostle up the staircase.
*~*
“James, please!”
It’s only been two days since Sarah and Sirius broke things off, and Remus is whisper-shouting at James across their table in the library.
The four of them had decided to dedicate some time to actual studying (they could be good students when they wanted to be). All was going well, and Sirius’ mood had been steadily improving. But, when Sirius had declared that he needed another reference book for his Potions essay and asked Remus to come help him track it down, James insisted that it actually be Peter who help him. No amount of refusal or prying from the other three boys would give rise to any leeway or explanation from James, so eventually Remus shrugged at Sirius and Peter, who got up to go check the stacks.
Once alone, James whirled on Remus and once again began his diatribe regarding Remus’ love life. James had convinced himself that Remus was in love with Sirius.
He hit that nail on the head.
He had also convinced himself that Sirius was in love with Remus.
Ridiculous.
And that Remus should absolutely confess his feelings so that he and Sirius can start dating.
Hilarious, James, really.
“What? I saw that scene on the couch the other night! He had his head in your lap and was positively lost in your eyes as you explained some dry scene from your ancient book.”
“Excuse you, regency literature is downright entertaining if you understand the social structures! And he wasn’t ‘lost in my eyes,’ Prongs. It’s called paying attention when someone speaks.”
“Sure, Moony. I also get all sparkly-eyed when I’m focusing on a lecture in class or having a conversation with a friend.”
“That doesn’t sound that far-fetched for you, actually.” Remus leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “And he was just distracting himself with anything convenient after Sarah broke things off. It doesn’t mean anything, James”
“Doesn’t mean anything, Moony?” James runs a hand through his hair and down his face, knocking his glasses askew. “I mean, for Merlin’s sake, you’re the only person he lets touch his hair. He comes to you for comfort now more than he even comes to me, and I swear that the only time he’s quiet and gentle is when you’re involved. We nearly have to drag him away from your bedside and out of the hospital wing when you’re recovering from the moon. What is he gonna have to do, throw himself at you to get you to understand that he loves you? I’m telling you, Remus, you’ve got to be the only one who can’t see it!”
Remus’ mind is whirling; James’ observations colliding with what has to be a more logical explanation. Sirius can’t— he’s just affectionate, right? He and James are always hugging, hanging off each other in the hallway, clapping one another on the back, and tussling when the bickering isn’t enough.
And Remus isn’t completely oblivious; he knows that he and Sirius interact differently than other friends. Just because Remus gets more of the light brushing of hands, the resting of one’s head in the other’s lap on the couch, the forehead caress when he wakes on the cot in the hospital wing, the occasional cuddly night in the other’s bed when the nightmares won’t relent…
He won’t follow that train of thought; he can’t . All it leads to is hope that gets dropped and shattered on the cold, hard ground. No, what James says can’t be true. There is no way Sirius is interested in anyone like him— much less Remus himself. It’s just easier this way. He’s gone this long being content (or what passes as content) just pining from afar, and he can do that forever. He can live with this pain, the pain of not truly knowing. This pain is comfortable, familiar. The pain of rejection? Well, that just might kill him.
He leans onto his elbows on the table, dropping his face into his hands. His words come out a little muffled, “I can’t, James. What if- what if he…” Remus takes a shuddering breath, “there’s just too much to lose.”
“Oh, Moony.”
He feels James reach across the table and pat his shoulder, but he doesn’t lift his head.
“Success!” Peter’s shout and two sets of footsteps round the end of a nearby bookshelf. “Oh, what’s wrong, Remus?” The two boys make their way back to the table, Sirius not-so-quietly dropping the newly acquired book onto the middle of the table. Remus jerks his head up and drops his hands back to the table at the disruption.
Sliding back into his seat, Sirius repeats Peter’s sentiment, offering a quieter, “You okay, Moons?” as he tries to catch Remus’ eye.
Clearing his throat and ignoring the feeling of his stomach dropping through the floor, Remus sits up straighter and forces out, “Yeah, just a little stressed about this Potions essay. Not sure why I can’t wrap my head around the brewing process and the order of ingredients.”
“Well, that’s okay. We can work through it together, and I’ll help you with anything you’re stuck on.”
Remus can hear the concern lacing Sirius’ words, so he finally relents to the gaze that is burning a hole in the side of his face, turning to give Sirius a small smile. Sirius smiles in return, his eyes brightening like he’s trying to beam happiness back into Remus’ retinas. Remus tries not to squirm a little under the intensity.
“Thanks, Padfoot. It’ll be nice to be able to copy your homework after all these years.”
James and Peter snicker while Sirius scoffs and clutches his pearls.
“The accusations, Moony! I have never just copied your work! I at least have the grace to change some words around, throw my own spin on it.”
“Well, at least you have your dignity, Sirius.”
As Sirius’ mock outrage continues, to the hilarity of the other three boys, Remus holds on to the thought that at least he can have this. If nothing else, he has this.
*~*
Throughout the rest of their Sunday afternoon and into dinner, Remus can feel Sirius’ eyes boring into the side of his head. For a while, he’s able to keep his awkward fidgeting to a minimum, but Sirius’ unyielding gaze makes it difficult to eat comfortably. Lifting his eyes from his mostly full dinner plate, he turns and raises his eyebrows, meeting Sirius’ gaze as if to ask What do you want?
The look of concern does not falter from Sirius’ face, eyebrows staying pinched together in an unrelenting demand of Tell me what’s wrong.
So petulant , and Remus lets him know he thinks as much by offering a hearty eye roll and returning to his plate.
Only a moment later, Remus can feel a warm presence over his shoulder; Sirius, in a low voice asks “What is wrong, Moony? I can tell something’s still bothering you.”
“It's nothing, Sirius. Just drop it.” Remus hisses back, maybe a little too sharply.
“Moons,” Sirius drags out the oo in the nickname, “you can tell me if something’s wrong. I just want to help ‘cause I care about you.” His hand comes up to lightly brush his fingertips against Remus’ upper arm.
“Godric, can’t you just leave it alone, leave me alone?” It comes out louder than Remus intended, and several of their friends and surrounding students drop their conversations at the sudden outburst
With a huff, Remus pushes himself up from the table, failing not to notice the wide-eyed expression that quickly drops off of Sirius’ face in favor of a carefully constructed neutral one. Chin tucked tightly to his chest, Remus rushes out of the Great Hall, feeling the heat in his face turn quickly from anger to shame.
*~*
Not even pausing in the common room, Remus heads straight up to the dorm. He definitely didn’t eat enough dinner, not that he even felt hungry with the pit that’s been sitting in his stomach since James’ speech in the library earlier. And it's far too early for bed, but nothing sounds better than hiding under the covers in the dark after being interrogated about his feelings, then scrutinized by the object of them for hours on end. And then he had to stick the cherry on top by causing a scene in the Great Hall. So he slips into his pajamas, turns out the lights, slides into bed, and firmly shuts his curtains.
But, of course, sleep would never come easily after such a day, so it doesn’t take long for Remus to slide Pride & Prejudice off his nightstand, casting a quick lumos to see the pages under the covers.
His eyes trace the same page over and over again, distractedly taking in half the details before he gives up and moves on to the next. It's not a very efficient or enjoyable way to read, but he can’t drag himself out of his mind enough to focus.
Why can’t Sirius just leave him alone about this? Nothing is wrong, or rather, nothing new is wrong. Eventually, he’ll push the feelings back down far enough that he can act normally, and everything will be fine again. Sirius can go back to not knowing that something is up, and Remus can go back to pretending that nothing is. That dynamic works for them, and it most certainly isn’t driving Remus mad. And even if it is, it's not Sirius’ problem to deal with. Remus just has to get himself under control, be realistic about his prospects, ( which , he thinks, as a gay, half-blood, werewolf, aren’t great ) and move on.
Yeah, he can do that. He can move on.
He’s still contemplating how one moves on from Sirius Black and his attractive, clever, mischievous, deeply loving, loyal downright nuisance of an existence when the other dorm door swings open and the other three boys bustle into the room.
Remus concentrates on lying still, covers still pulled over his head and curtains closed tightly, hoping they will assume he’s already asleep, and this hope seems to work out, as no one calls for him and they all move around the dorm quietly as they prepare for bed.
Remus can’t blame them for not trying to check on him; he did just bite Sirius’ head off for being a concerned friend. But he can’t deny the ache in his chest as he listens to their typical banter as they settle in for the night. He tries not to think of the eyes undoubtedly falling on his shuttered four-poster during the lapses in conversation.
Eventually, James’ and Peter’s snores begin to drift from the opposite end of the room, and Remus’ eyelids finally begin to feel heavy. Still hesitant to give any indication of being awake, he whispers nox and slides his wand and book under his pillow, finally pulling the covers down to properly arrange himself for sleep.
Slowly settling into a comfortable spot on his mattress, Remus sighs and tries to let his eyes fall shut naturally. Before they can, movement catches them; someone is pulling open his bed curtains.
“Moons, are you still awake?”
Sirius pulls his curtains apart just enough to poke his head and torso through. The faint moonlight that spills in through the dormitory window seems to glow a soft halo around his head. Remus blinks at him, swallowing but not responding.
“Are you okay?”
“Sirius…” Remus sighs. He should have known this was coming. Sirius isn’t one to let things go once he takes an interest in them, and this determination is something Remus loves and admires about him, though now Remus is thinking he could maybe do without it for a bit.
Sirius starts twisting and tangling his hands in Remus’ duvet. “Listen, I know you said it was just your Potions essay that had you upset, but we finished that in the library today. Yet you’ve still been avoiding me the rest of the day. And I don’t know if I did something to upset you, and I’m sorry if I did. But I can’t really apologize or make it better if you don’t tell me what I did. Because I really don’t know if I did do something, but you’re clearly upset. And I don’t like to see you upset. So can you tell me? Whether it's me or something else, I want to help, Moony. Tell me what to do, how to fix this. I want—”
“Sirius, it's not anything you did.” Remus reaches out and covers one of Sirius’ hands with his own, gently loosening its grip on the covers. He tries to give Sirius a soft smile (though it may have come across as more of a grimace) before lifting the corner of the blankets. “Come on, climb in.”
Sirius only hesitates a moment before climbing onto the bed, tucking his legs under the blankets and leaning his shoulder against the headboard so he can face Remus. His fingers tangle and clutch together in his lap.
“So was it something I said? Something about me in general? Not related to me at all? Come on, Remus, I’m dying here!”
It's a play at levity, but Remus can read the anxiety in Sirius’ widened, earnest eyes and in the rapid pace of his voice, and he won’t stand for that.
He’s all good to suffer eternally himself, but he cannot let Sirius suffer for his stupid crush. Sirius is rarely like this outside of the cover of night and comfort of friends, but Remus has seen his anxiety before. He will take on everyone else’s problems as his own and try to solve them to de-escalate a situation before it even hints at escalating. He’ll monitor the moods of others around him, trying to pre-emptively compensate for potential perceived slights to keep everyone happy and make sure no one is mad at him. He hides it well with his typically loud, brash attitude, but it breaks Remus’ heart to see what lies underneath. And he will not stand for being the cause of this anxiety in Sirius, of seeing him assuming he is at fault for Remus' bad mood, then searching, scrambling for a reason why Remus is upset with him and over-promising to try to find a solution.
The pain of pining may be better than the pain of rejection, but any pain that Remus suffers is preferable to causing any to Sirius.
Remus grabs his wand under his pillow and casts a quick silencing spell.
“Remus?” More of his nerves creep into his voice as Sirius cocks his head at the sudden charm.
“I- Pads, I’ll tell you what it is, but just know that this doesn’t have to change anything between us if you don’t want it to. And I certainly never meant to hurt you by it.”
Sirius’ eyes widen again at this preface, but he stays silent. Remus takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying but failing to dissipate the pit still residing in his stomach and steady his rapidly increasing heart rate. He twists his own fingers together in his lap.
“I think you’re the greatest person ever, Sirius. You’re so funny and so smart. You’re incredibly attractive, but it’s more than that. You refuse to let anyone else tell you what to think, carving out your own understanding so you can stand devoutly for what you believe in. You fiercely protect and care for those that you love, even going to the extent of great personal sacrifice to see them comforted. You’re brave and loyal. And you’ve faced more than your fair share of demons in your life so far, but you’ve come through them still spreading joy through your stupid little pranks and your unexpected tender care. All that to say, Sirius, I think I’ve fallen in love with you. And I understand if that makes you uncomfortable and if you don’t want to uh, be my friend in the same way anymore.”
The words fall out of his mouth as if someone had just smacked him on the back to dislodge something caught in his throat— it's loud, violent, and probably disgusting for anyone caught in the crossfire.
While his gaze was stuck on his hands tangled in his lap during his speech, he can’t resist peeking up at Sirius’ face after getting no response for what feels like far too long but is likely only several seconds.
To his horror, tears streak down Sirius’ cheeks as he stares at Remus. He’s biting at the inside of his lower lip, quite hard, if the tension in his jaw is anything to show for it.
Jumping a little, Remus fights the urge to scramble backward off the bed as more words tumble out of his mouth, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t- forget I said anything, please. I, listen, I’ll sleep in the common room tonight, so you’re comfortable. And, and maybe we can go back to normal? I don’t-”
Remus is cut off by a warm weight resting on his now shaking hands. He snaps his mouth shut, looking sharply down at the pale hand that is wrapping around his still tangled fingers, the thumb softly drifting back and forth across the back of his palm. He jerks his head up, finally meeting the gray eyes that have barely left his person all day. There is a small smile dancing across those lips that he has spent far too much time thinking about.
Sirius’ other hand comes to rest on the crux of Remus’ neck and shoulder, and he speaks firmly, “Remus. Lupin. Never apologize for saying what has probably made me the happiest person to ever set foot in this castle.”
The endless words provided by anxious rambling have abandoned him, and Remus just stares back, mouth hanging open until he closes it to forcibly swallow.
Suddenly, Sirius Black’s face is closer than it ever has been before, and Remus goes cross-eyed just to keep him in view.
“Is this okay?” Sirius whispers, a hair's breadth from his lips, and Remus swallows again before giving the slightest nod.
Then all his dreams are coming true. Sirius Black is kissing him, and he is kissing Sirius Black. It lasts only seconds, but it’s worth a lifetime. He can taste toothpaste that definitely isn’t his, and he’s a little breathless.
This is euphoria like Remus has never felt before, but he couldn’t call himself Remus Lupin if his brain didn’t try to get in the way of his own happiness. A bolt of anxiety tears through him.
“Are you-”
“Yes, Moony, I’m sure that I, too, am in love with you. And I’ll tell you that as many times as I need to to get it through that thick, self-deprecating skull of yours. Until you hopefully decide to let me be your boyfriend, as I’ve been aching to be for Merlin knows how long now.”
Remus’ hand is now gripping the sleeve of Sirius’ sleep shirt, and he holds on a little tighter, trying to find something to convince him that this isn’t all some dream that’s going to crush him absolutely when he wakes up.
He pulls Sirius back in, taking his time with the kiss the second time around. Once he’s convinced himself that his brain couldn’t possibly dream up something this divine, he mumbles against Sirius’ lips, “Yes, Pads, yes. I’ll be your boyfriend if you’ll be mine.”
He can feel the grin that breaks across Sirius’ face before he pulls back to see it. He swears he’s never seen such a beautiful expression on that face. Sirius’ face. His Sirius’ face. And Remus is grinning too.
Leaning forward again, Remus slides his arms around Sirius’ waist and tucks his nose into the collar of Sirius’ shirt. He can feel the goosebumps that rise from the cold touch. He takes a deep breath, settling in as Sirius’ hands rest gently on his back.
“Stay tonight? Please?” Remus’ words are muffled against Sirius’ collarbone.
“Tonight and any night that you’ll have me, Moonbeam.”
A kiss is pressed to Remus’ temple, and he chuckles, “Moonbeam? Oh no, what have I gotten myself into?”
“Oh, just you wait, Moons. I’m gonna be insufferable.” Sirius laughs back as he pulls up the covers, so they can both lay down. Sirius slings an arm across Remus’ waist.
“I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Remus mumbles, the high-strung emotions of the day and the comforting weight of a loving arm finally dragging him down into a deep sleep.
At last, that one dream he had chased for so long would still be with him when he returned to the waking world.