Chapter Text
The four boys find an empty compartment and immediately set about making themselves at home, with James and Sirius snagging the window seats, while Peter settles himself next to James, while Remus sets about making his cat, Madam Emma Bovary as comfortable as possible while she is stuck in the confines of her wicker travelling basket.
"Right so, is this you buggering off now then, with Lily and the other prefects?"
Sirius asks the notes of both accusations and jealousy clear in his tone as he turns to frown up at his boyfriend.
Remus who enjoys nothing more than the thrill of confounding Sirius Black, well no that's not the only thing he enjoys doing to him, but it is one of his favourites.
"Not at all,"
Remus says as he pours himself into the seat next to him.
"Won't you get into trouble, if you're not with the other prefects?"
Peter asks, as his beady blue eyes watch Madam Emma Bovary cautiously between the bars of her cage.
She gives a little hiss, before turning her back on him with a swish of her white fluffy tail.
"What care I for rules,"
Remus exclaims, as he stretches his long legs across Sirius' lap and rests the back of his head against Madam Emma Bovary's cage.
His heart does a little leap as he watches Sirius' large grey eyes widen further still with surprise.
"Finally, you've come back to us Moony!"
He hears James chuckle.
"...besides after last time, and all your adventures with The Death Eaters,"
Peter interrupts Remus' flow with a snort of laughter, that causes the three other boys in the train compartment to stare at him.
His cheeks go pink as he attempts to explain in a small sounding voice.
"It's just, the way you said The Death Eaters, it made them sound a bit like a band."
The last time the four of them had been together on The Hogwarts Express part of the train had been blown up, and had left James, Sirius, and their fellow 6th year Gryffindors, Frank Longbottom and Dorcus Meadowes at the mercy of a pack of Death Eaters.
So not an experience any of them are keen on revisiting anytime soon.
"Anyway,"
Remus turns his attention away from Peter to look at Sirius.
"...I'm not letting you out of my sight until we are safely back in London, after that you're not my problem anymore."
Remus watches as the look of surprise in Sirius' face is replaced by a very different expression and one he has come to know fairly well.
In that moment he'd quite like to lean forward and kiss Sirius, but he's a bit too comfortable in his current position to actually move so he doesn't.
"I'm always your bloody problem."
Sirius retaliates by pinching his right thigh extremely hard.
Remus winces, which causes Sirius to grin.
"You know watching you two go at each other,"
James' choice of words earns a selection of raised eyebrows, which he of course ignores.
"...has really converted me to the idea of divorce."
With this statement concluded Sirius does the grown up thing and sticks out his tongue at his best friend.
The compartment lapses into a comfortable silence for a few moments until Sirius asks.
"Are you planning on going everywhere with me then, even the toilet?"
"Especially the toilet."
Remus replies, fixing him with a wide toothy grin.
It's with a growing sense of panic that Remus wanders the corridors of the carriage in the hopes of finding Sirius, who had left the compartment to visit the toilet some time ago and who he had neglected to follow because he'd been two busy reading one of his favourite Christmas books, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, to notice.
So here he is living up to his 'rubbish boyfriend' reputation.
And then, just as Remus finds himself walking down another ridiculously long corridor he sees the outline of Sirius Black waiting for him at the end, oh if only that was the prize after every long and arduous journey.
"Alright?"
He approaches Sirius, who is standing in front of one of the windows that line the train's corridor, and seemingly staring off into space.
Sirius appears not to hear him, so he tries again.
"Padfoot."
Cautiously he lets one hand rest on Sirius' shoulders and is taken aback as the other boy practically throws himself into his arms.
"I don't want to go!"
Sirius exclaims bitterly, while Remus panics for a completely different reason over his shoulder.
Sirius clings to him, and he clings right back.
He feels the fabric of his robes turn from bone dry to slightly moist, and he realises with a jolt that the boy in his arms is crying.
Usually it's Remus who is the cause of Sirius' tears, but this time he is entirely innocent.
He runs his hands through Sirius' luscious mane of curly dark hair and he tries his best to soothe him.
"There, there, come on."
He whispers against his skin as he pulls back to plant a kiss on Sirius' pale cheek, his tongue tasting the familiar tang of salt.
He tracks a line of kisses along Sirius' face until he finally finds his mouth, because kissing is so much easier than talking.
"I love you."
Remus repeats the words between kisses.
"Don't Pads, Sirius don't please."
He pleads desperately.
His hands find the sides of Sirius' face and lifts his gaze, their eyes finally meet, watery grey and dark hazel.
"I don't deserve this."
Sirius' words break something deep inside him, something he knows will probably stay broken for a long, long time.
"It's two weeks,"
Remus says, trying to remember exactly how James calms Sirius down whenever he's spiraling out at the prospect of returning home.
But he's not James Potter.
Sirius shakes his head and tries to pull away, but Remus tightens his grip and holds him in place, knowing as he does so that he's probably bruising the older boy's face with his finger tips.
"It's two bloody weeks, you can do this, I believe in you."
And just like that he watches as the tearful boy before him transforms into the Sirius Black that everyone thinks they know so well, brave and posturing and mad, so very mad.