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Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were practically inseparable. All the Marauders were really, but sometime in fifth year, the two of them were rarely seen apart. Everyone thought Remus was trailing after Sirius like one of his many adoring fans. But those close to the Marauders knew the truth.
Sirius looked at Remus like all things good and bright began and ended with him.
“Moony,” a rolled-up piece of paper hit Remus square in the head.
“Really, Padfoot? I’m trying to study.” Remus threw the paper back at him without looking up from his charms essay. The paper just came flying back at his head. Remus finally looked up.
Sirius was lounging on his bed, tossing one of James’ stolen snitches up in the air. “Studying is for swots. Exams aren’t for another month.”
“And yet this essay is due Friday.”
“Come on, I know you. You already have it done, you’re just a bloody perfectionist.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “Go find James if you’re so bored. Or join Peter in chess club.”
Sirius pulled a face. “I’d rather gouge out my own eyes than join the chess club.”
“You have to be nicer to him. He cares what you think of him.” Remus tossed his essay aside, fully resigning himself to not work on it anymore.
“Why?” Remus had been friends long enough to know that Sirius did not care what most people thought of him and didn't understand why other people did.
“Because you’re his friend and you’re Sirius Black.”
Sirius sat up now. Their beds were across the room from each other and when they were alone like this, they often had entire conversations across the room. “What do you mean I’m Sirius Black?”
“You know,” Remus gestured indistinctly. He really did not want to boost his giant ego anymore than it already had been. “You’re popular and attractive and have that whole fan club of third years who worship your every move.”
“You think I’m attractive?” Sirius had donned a mischievous grin.
Of course, that was the part he heard. “Don’t start.”
“But you said it though. You meant it," Sirius pushed on.
Remus closed his textbook and stood up. “I hate this conversation.”
“No, Moonyyy, where are you going?”
“The library, so I can actually work.” He began packing up his things, but as he walked to the door, Sirius caught his wrist, his pale skin caught around the edge of Remus' scar. Neither of them made any move to pull away. Sirius stared at where his hand rested, turning Remus' wrist like he was transfixed by it. Eventually, he looked up at Remus' curious expression.
“Come on, Moony. Let’s go for a smoke.” He tugged slightly on Remus' wrist
Remus sighed. “I never should have introduced you to those.”
“Nah, you secretly like it. Besides, I'm attractive." He did a terrible rendition of Remus' voice for the last word.
Remus rolled his eyes. He really didn’t know why he was saying yes. “Fine. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
Behind the greenhouses, they sat legs pressed against each other, attempting to one-up each other with different magical shapes in the smoke.
They hadn’t spoken for a while. They were just laughing and letting the burn of the smoke overtake them. The first time Sirius had tried it, he didn’t stop coughing for ten minutes. Remus thought he was a lost cause. But here he is, smoking as easy as breathing.
“These things kill Muggles, you know,” Sirius said. It was still the beginning of the school year and the cold Scottish winter hadn’t set in.
“I know,” Remus said, then cast a glance at Sirius. “Did you not?”
Sirius shook his head. “I didn’t until James found them the other night and freaked on me.”
“Of course he did,” Remus said. He would've paid money to see that conversation. “Always the mother that one.”
“Yeah. I convinced him that it doesn’t affect wizards.” He let out another long breath of smoke. This time he shaped it into a tree, but he still wasn’t great at the spell so it came out a bit more like a flower. “Do you think that’s true?”
“I don’t know,” Remus answered. He didn’t know many older wizards, let any who smoked.
“But you still smoke them?”
Remus shrugged. “Never worried too much about it. Besides, worth the risk, isn't it?” In truth, Remus never really thought he would live long enough to ever feel the effects of it. Werewolves don’t exactly have long life spans. He tried not to dwell on the thought.
“You’re brilliant, Moony. You're much more badass than anyone gives you credit for.” Remus just snorted at Sirius’ sincerity. “Really, I mean it. You’re like a brother to me.”
The words instantly felt wrong in Remus’ chest. He pushed Sirius lightly away from him. “Ew, don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true.” His voice was so brightly earnest, like a child's.
“No, James is your brother,” Remus corrected.
“So what does that make you?”
“I don’t know. A friend.” Remus didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but it did. It just didn’t feel right to call Sirius his brother.
“That’s so boring. Marlene’s my friend. You’re something else entirely.”
Somehow, that made more sense to Remus. It felt more like them. “Alright. I’ll be something else.” Sirius looked at him with a smile and Remus held his gaze, something equally light dancing on his expression. It was like they had made a promise to each other without ever having to take the vowing words.
A week later, they sat on the grounds enjoying the last of the Scottish sun. Remus liked winters - the long jumpers and the warm tea - but he knew Sirius hated them, so he indulged Sirius as he skeeved off class to join Remus reading under a tree.
Sirius had his head in Remus’ lap with his eyes closed as Remus read aloud. He normally despised the practice but Sirius had mumbled something about liking the sound of Remus’ voice, so here he was.
As he did, he would occasionally run his fingers through Sirius’ hair. It was the kind of affection he knew Sirius craved after a lifetime in that nightmare he called a house. They never talked about it, their quiet moments like this. Nor did they talk about why they never invited anyone else or why they always found the most secluded parts of the castle grounds.
Remus wasn’t complaining. Sirius was rarely like this around anyone else. He was too busy trying to entertain them all.
At some point, Sirius reached up and grabbed Remus’ hand, playing with his fingers, tracing the lines on his palm. If they noticed the blush on either of their faces, neither said a thing, just kept reading until it was time to head back.
It happened in the middle of a prank, of all times. The four of them were in the Slytherin common room filling the ceiling with glitter, ready to drop on unsuspecting students passing by.
It wasn’t a particularly sophisticated prank. The magic was quite easy really, with the exception of the permanent sticking charm Sirius had perfected. But Remus liked the stupid pranks better; he thought it made the castle more jovial.
Unfortunately, they had not counted on a pair of Slytherins sneaking back from the Astronomy tower and suddenly the four Marauders were sprinting down the hallway, splitting up as they went.
Peter had already transformed into a rat, the lucky bastard, but Remus, with his leg still sore from the last transformation, was lagging behind, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
And then, out of nowhere, he felt a hand reach out and grab him as he was thrown into the darkness of a broom cupboard.
“What the fuck,” Remus began to yell but a hand quickly clasped over his mouth. As his eyes adjusted, he realized it was Sirius who had grabbed him, the invisibility cloak laying around his shoulders.
They stood there in tense silence as they listened to the yells of Slytherins and the fast pattern of running feet. There were more of them now taking off down the hall, on the hunt for the four Marauders.
Remus pulled out his wand and cast a muffliato and then a locking charm. Sirius seemed to get the message and he took his hand off of Remus’ mouth. Their bodies were still close though. The closet was not quite big enough for them both.
As more shouting continued outside, Remus sighed. “I guess we’re not leaving here anytime soon.”
“No, I guess not,” Sirius said, glancing toward the door and then back at Remus. “Not too bad though. There are certainly worse people to be stuck in a broom closet with.”
“I’m sure you would know.”
Sirius made a face. “Yes, I suppose I would. Mary wasn’t too bad though.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “I like Mary. I do not want that opinion tarnished by stories of your sexual exploits.”
“I thought you loved my sexual exploits,” Sirius teased, leaning in closer.
“Ugh, you’re terrible,” Remus said, pushing Sirius away to little effect. "I'd rather be caught by the Slytherins."
“Oh, come on,” Sirius continued, “don’t you want to hear about how my tongue - “
“Enough, enough,” Remus whisper-shouted. He had half a mind to cover Sirius’ mouth as payback.
“Felt against her neck,” Sirius seemed to be on a roll. His grin grew wider and more confident as he spoke. “And against her -”
Remus pushed Sirius against the wall, his hand flat against Sirius' chest. He rarely noticed his height advantage over Sirius but now he felt every single inch. “I don’t want to talk about Mary,” Remus said. His voice was more intense than he had meant it.
Sirius' eyes had gone wide as he well and truly shut up. His gaze was on Remus and it felt like he was reading every part of him. Remus' hand felt like it was burning against Sirius' chest but didn't dare move.
Neither said anything. They just looked and looked and looked as if looking at the other would provide the answer for how they ended up here, for why neither of them was making any move to break apart.
And then the answer came, when Sirius’ hand met the back of Remus’ neck, pulling him down, and suddenly they were kissing. Their lips moved in frantic, messy steps, Remus’ tongue pressing into Sirius’ lips, Sirius’ teeth moving in kind. Everything about it was urgent, like they knew the danger they were falling into, like they knew the risks.
After a while of kisses against lips, and necks, and skin, when roaming hands hand traversed every part of their upper bodies, feeling hot under their school shirts, they broke apart and listened as the silence stretched on in the hall.
“I think they’re gone,” Remus said finally. His voice was quite rough as he tried to rearrange his clothes.
Sirius nodded, fixing himself up too. “Right,” he said. “Let’s head back then.”
Sirius didn’t bother with the cloak and Remus didn’t ask why. He wasn’t complaining. He liked the look of Sirius in the moonlight of the corridor, his hair amiss and his lips bitten red. There was a trail of red marks poking from his shirt collar that brought back images of minutes before.
Their hands brushed against each other in the corridor but neither of them took it. They didn’t speak either. But it was a nice silence, like sitting under the tree on the grounds. They understood each other more than they had before. More than anyone ever had before. They didn't need to say it.
Things continued like that for a long while, months even, - hidden smiles, brushing touches, and stealing away from the others. They never talked about it, not really. They both knew, in the end, why they couldn’t. They knew it could break everything apart if anyone ever found out really.
Remus didn’t think about it. Not when they fucked, not when they shared a cigarette after, and not when their eyes met as some Quidditch player made some joke about “poofs.”
So what if it could kill him, it was the worth risk, wasn't it?
But it all came out. Of course, it did. It ended at the same time everything else in Remus' life had - the day Snape found his way into the Shrieking Shack. It was the day Remus had woke up in the hospital wing with James looking half-dead next to him, the day when Dumbledore explained exactly what happened and how and who.
When Remus heard who exactly had betrayed him - the same boy who had laid next to him the night before and pressed kisses to his scars and swore they were beautiful - Remus knew his world had ended.
Remus hadn’t spoken to a soul since James woke up and asked if he was alright. His voice was so sharp and cold when he answered, “No." There was nothing else to say after that.
The two of them walked side by side back into the dorm. The sound of quills scribbling against parchment fell silent as the door swung open. No one said a word, everyone waiting for Remus' first move.
He hated this. He hated them all. He hated himself.
He sat down on his bed and looked at the boy in the bed across from him. The words almost spilled out then, the ones he hadn’t even realized he had even wanted to say until it all crumbled away - I love you . I loved you . How can I still love you?
But he didn’t say a thing. They just stared at each other, both of their eyes lined with red, until finally, James looked at Peter, mumbled something, and then they both headed downstairs, leaving the two of them alone.
“I’m sorry, Moony,” the words began to spill, desperate and cracking open as if Sirius' skin was fraying at the edges. “I really -”
“I want you out,” Remus said, cutting him off. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to think Sirius had been capable of it. He didn't want Sirius to exist.
“Okay,” Sirius answered, his gaze averted to his lap, a punished child.
“Not just of the room. Out of my life. Out of my classes and my friends.”
“Okay,” Sirius echoed again, his voice growing smaller, more distant. And then, because he had to say it one more time. “I really am sorry.”
Remus just turned his head away. He didn't want to look at him anymore.
Later, James came to Remus and asked him why he did it - kindly and gently in the only way James knew how to be which was incredibly fair. Remus told him, told him what they had been to each other. James had listened, silently, not saying a word. Remus supposed there was nothing to say.
“We’ll never see each other again,” Remus had ended his tale. He tried to make his voice fall dead. He tried to make everything within him fall dead.
“Maybe you will,” James answered because he knew what it was like to love Sirius, to be betrayed by him. He knew what it was like to wish they could forgive him. “Maybe someday.”
But God, Remus thought, who knows when.