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If it hadn’t been for the hangover, Sirius might have been able to ignore it. Might have been able to sleep through it in blissful ignorance. Remus’ bed was a mere two meters away from his own and had it not been for the pounding sensitivity in his head, maybe it wouldn’t have seemed so loud.

Panting. Sighing. The rustle and creak of the old wooden bedframe. The giggling. Sirius buried his head in his pillow and wondered furiously, how in the hell did Remus not get fed up with all of the giggling ? Hufflepuff girls seemed to giggle the most, but all of them giggled an inordinate amount in Remus' presence, and Sirius couldn’t imagine how his friend kept from casting langlock from time to time just to get a bit of peace. Wasn’t all the giggling distracting when he was trying to do things with them anyhow? And what was so bloody funny in the first place?

The noises from Remus’ bed had stuttered to a stop and Sirius refused to let his imagination furnish an explanation. He relaxed slightly as the silence stretched on for a minute, and he thought he might actually be able to fall back to sleep. But then another giggle, echoed by a soft laugh from Remus that made Sirius’ stomach twist, though that also might have had something to do with all the firewhiskey from the previous night’s revelry. They were whispering, then there was another giggle as the floorboard beside Remus’ bed groaned.

Sirius glanced out of the gap in his bed hangings to see the identical ones on Remus’ bed be pulled open. Ah, so Josie Pinkett had been the one giggling. That figured, she was just the sort – all rounded curves and sweet smiles and as Hufflepuff as they came. Sirius watched the way the sixth year girl tugged up her black tights, a glimpse of plump white thighs and light blue knickers beneath her skirt. She crouched to collect her shoes from the ground, which brought her face level with Remus’ where he remained sprawled languidly on the bed. Remus shimmered vaguely with the glamour that concealed the worst of his scars and Sirius thought the Hufflepuff must be an idiot not to notice he was hiding something. The firewhiskey in Sirius’ stomach burned anew as he watched the fair-haired girl kiss Remus, her fingers with their pink nail polish caressing the edge of his jaw. When she withdrew, Remus was smiling at her, sated and pleased as the cat that got the cream, “I ought to get going,” Josie said in a hushed voice, “My roommates will be wondering where I am.”

“Edna and Artemis were both here last night,” Remus pointed out quietly, his fingers toying with the hem of Josie’s skirt. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, “Reckon they might’ve made an educated guess as to your whereabouts.”

Josie giggled and Sirius rolled his eyes, “Now, Remus, don't gloat,” she scolded, playfully swatting Remus’ hand away from her thighs, “You're probably right, though. In any case, I’d better be off.”

Remus nodded and smiled up at her, “Thanks for a lovely evening,” he said, somehow earnest and sly at the same time in that wonderful Moony way of his, “And an even lovelier morning.”

Josie gave one last giggle and crept out of the dorm, for some reason taking the care to tiptoe as if she and Remus had been quiet as church mice up till now. Remus watched her go and Sirius watched Remus, only to cringe slightly when Remus’ gaze flicked over to him, “Morning, Padfoot,” he said, eyebrow arching, “Had a good time indulging your voyeuristic streak?”

Sirius snorted, “Well, if you don’t want an audience, you might consider a silencing charm next time.”

Remus had the decency to blush slightly at that, and Sirius wondered fleetingly what the pink flush of Remus’ cheek would feel like under his lips, “Fair enough,” Remus said, climbing out of the tangled bedclothes and stretching his arms above his head. In nothing but his pants, he was all long golden limbs and copper freckles and silver scars – no longer Disillusioned – the taut lean planes of his back and the curve of his clenched arse enough to make Sirius’ mouth water. As he walked off to shower, Remus commented offhandedly, “Never said anything about not wanting an audience, though.”

He disappeared into the bathroom and Sirius let out a sigh. If Remus knew, he wouldn’t say things like that. It was one thing for him to catch Sirius watching him and Josie kiss goodbye, but if he knew what Sirius really was thinking, he would not laugh it off so lightly. Sirius took advantage of the privacy, tugging down his pajamas and wrapping his hand around his painfully ignored cock, the copious precum allowing him to tug himself hard and fast without too much friction. He looked longingly at the rumpled sheets of Remus’ bed, no doubt still warm from Remus’ bare skin, heated with lust as he shagged that girl . Sirius’ mind ruthlessly erased her from the fantasy and he felt his climax impending. 

And that was the thing, the thing Remus couldn’t ever know. Sirius didn’t want to be in the audience , he wanted to take the leading lady du jour’s place, he wanted Remus all to himself. He wanted to feel every scar under his tongue, he wanted to hear Remus’ hot panting breath close against his ear, he wanted to be the one who woke up tangled in Remus’ long limbs, smirking at each other privately about what they’d done the night before. He imagined Remus looking at him with that sated, smug look in his amber eyes and he came in hard, unsatisfying spurts. 

He reached his clean hand under his pillow for his wand and vanished the cum, pulling his pajamas back up. He thought about trying to sleep but abandoned the thought, sliding from his bed instead to dig through his things to see if he still had any hangover potion.

~~~

“Good morning, Remus,” Freyja Anderson batted her eyelashes at him as the Marauders found their way to their usual seats near the back in History of Magic, “Great party last night!”

“It’s true what they say,” her friend, Pearl, chimed in, “Gryffindors do have more fun.”

Remus didn’t blush, but Pearl did, and from the knowing look in her eyes he could tell she was remembering just how much fun the two of them had gotten into after Sirius’ birthday party a couple of months prior. Circe knows he had needed it more than ever that night, with the moon waxing and having spent all evening around Sirius, who had been in rare form, bright-eyed from drinking up all the Firewhiskey and attention he could. It would have been so easy to give him too much attention that night, and Pearl had been a charming diversion and a real lifesaver.

“‘Course we do,” James beamed, as if he hadn’t been puking his brains out from all that fun barely a half hour earlier, “Right, Evans?”

“Not listening, Potter.” Lily quipped without looking in his direction, but Remus didn’t miss the reluctant flicker of a smile at the corner of her mouth. He also hadn’t missed the way she had humored James at last night’s party, not pulling her Prefect card even once and going so far as congratulating him on Gryffindor’s victory over Ravenclaw at the match.

Professor Binns had begun the lesson and most of the class quieted down, though few people were paying attention. Freyja twisted around in her seat to continue looking at Remus, “I tried to find you to say goodnight, you know,” she said, and Remus quirked an eyebrow at the tempting promise of how exactly the pretty brunette had intended to ‘say goodnight’, “Where’d you disappear to?”

Remus and Josie had slipped upstairs while the party was still in full swing, all drunk laughter and sloppy kisses. She’d been delightful, really, her soft flesh pliant under her hands, slick and eager for him before he’d even cast a silencing charm. In the end they hadn’t bothered, with the dorm to themselves and the party still raging in the common room below, Josie’s moans of pleasure had filled the room unhampered, “Oh,” Remus said, trying to keep his face neutral, “I went to bed early.”

Freyja’s eyebrows raised at this and she shrugged before turning back to the front of the classroom. Beside him, Peter snickered and nudged his ribs, “You hardly went to bed alone , though, did you, Moony?”

Remus’ eyes met Peter’s and seeing his friend’s leer, he allowed the sly smile he’d been suppressing to spread across his lips, “I said early ,” he murmured, “I said nothing of going alone.”

To his other side, Sirius snorted out a scoff and Remus suspected he tossed his hair, although he resisted the urge to look. Looking at Sirius was always a bit dangerous; once he started looking it could be dreadfully hard to stop looking. He distracted himself by taking out parchment and quill with which to take notes on the Goblin Rebellion of 1612, and turning his thoughts back to Josie Pinkett. She was a lovely girl and Remus hadn’t been lying that morning when he’d told her he’d had a lovely time, she was lovely enough to be a very nice distraction from Sirius Black, at least for one night. 

There was a lot to appreciate about girls, and Hufflepuff girls in particular, they were so soft and sweet and simply nothing like Sirius at all. There was no mistaking Josie’s blonde hair for Sirius’ black mane, no mistaking her full breasts for the lean muscle of Sirius’ chest, no mistaking her round feminine face for the cut-glass sharpness of Sirius’ cheeks and nose and chin. Her eyes couldn’t hold a candle to the stormy grey of Sirius’, as mercurial as a wind-swept sea, and her giggles and whimpers couldn’t compare to… well, whatever delicious noises Sirius would make in the throes of pleasure. Remus had never heard them and he never would, and that was just as well because he suspected his mind might shatter with need if he did. 

Despite himself, he glanced past Prongs at Sirius. He was looking out the window, the winter sun limning him in silvery gold light. It made Remus want to touch his silky hair, feel the warmth and the stubble of his cheek… well, no, it wasn’t fair to blame that on the sunlight. Under any conditions, Remus found himself fighting the urge to reach out and touch Sirius. For a second, he silently begged Sirius to turn and look at him, to lose interest in whatever he was gazing at out the window and look at Remus instead. But he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t. Why would he? 

It was too dangerous looking at Sirius directly, like looking overly long right at the sun. Like Icarus melting his damned wings, the allure of Sirius Black could very well be Remus’ undoing if he wasn’t careful. Just a moment of idle gazing risked opening up the chasm of need in Remus’ heart. He forced his eyes back to the parchment on his desk, thinking about goblins and maybe a little of Josie and how nice it had felt to be inside of her. He was so focused on the work of thinking about anything but Sirius that he didn’t even feel the weight of the other boy’s eyes on him for the remainder of the lesson.

~~~

The trouble with Moony, Sirius had concluded, was that he was the perfect balance of ‘ wholesome boy-next-door ’ and ‘bad boy with mystique ’. On the one hand, he had all the non-threatening appeal of the Prefect he was, with his old-man jumpers and his books and his unfaltering kindness. But on the other hand, he was a Marauder through and through, dry wit and mischief and reckless good humor. He was a bloody werewolf, for Merlin’s sake! He always had a spliff or a jinx up his sleeve, it had been his twisted mind that had inspired the Map and a number of their most devious pranks. That sweet smile of his could turn to a devilish smirk in a millisecond, and for Sirius, that was when he was the most irresistible.

Some of these observations were ones he’d made years ago, some starting all the way back in first year. He’d always admired Remus, and always been somewhat fascinated by the multitudes his friend contained. It hadn’t dawned on him that the feeling was more than purely platonic admiration and curiosity until they came back for fifth year and the Remus who’d ambled onto the Hogwarts Express had been about a head taller than the one they’d bid a fond adieu to the previous spring. It wasn’t just a matter of height, he seemed to have grown into himself, his nose no longer too big for his face, his voice no longer cracking but settled into a deep velvety tone that made his Welsh accent sing. 

But it wasn’t even just all that which had served as a wakeup call to Sirius, it was the fact that everyone else seemed to notice the change, too. Or well, all of the girls, at any rate. Remus had always had more female friends than the other Marauders, but suddenly they seemed to have noticed how eligible he was and they started flipping their hair and touching his arm at every opportunity and fucking giggling and Sirius had been baffled to find that it made him absolutely furious. 

Prongs had noticed before long – of course he had, Prongs always seemed to notice any disturbance to the peace among his friends – and pulled him aside and actually scolded him. Sirius hated being scolded, he couldn’t help it, any reprimand always pointed his thoughts towards his mother and that was the quickest way to set his teeth on edge. Not that Prongs’ scolding resembled any Walburga ever would have given; Prongs loved Sirius too much to ever scold him without a good deal of praise mixed in.

“I know you don’t mean to be a prat ,” he’d said – which was overly generous since much of the time Sirius didn’t care if he was being a prat or not – “But you’ve got to get past this thing with Remus. I reckon it must be hard finally having some competition for most fanciable chap at school, but really, with all Moony has on his shoulders, don’t you think he deserves a bit of fun?”

It had been fair, even when James had said it, Sirius had known it had been fair. Moony did deserve a bit of fun, after all. Was that it, he’d asked himself, was his vanity bruised? Was he feeling threatened by sharing the Hogwarts dating pool with the all-of-a-sudden-eligible Remus? He’d honestly always found the advances of girls dull at best and irritating at worst, but it was true that his blood had fairly boiled when he’d caught Remus snogging that fourth-year in the Common Room the first week they’d been back, but… why? He hadn’t been able to remember that girl’s name, or even what she looked like, all he’d remembered was the blush that had colored Remus’ cheeks at being caught, the slight mischievous smile that had curved his shining, bitten-red lips, the unruly tousle of his hair where it looked like it had been tugged. What Sirius hadn’t known was why that had made him so bloody angry.

But he hadn’t said any of that to Prongs at the time, all he’d said was “ Oh, don’t be an idiot, Prongs, you’ve always given me plenty of competition for most fanciable chap.” which had successfully ended the conversation about Sirius’ attitude towards Remus. Attuned as James was to the wellbeing of his friends, his own ego was his own great weakness and a bit too easy to manipulate. Just so, James had pointed out nobly that he only had eyes for Evans anyhow, and pinned Sirius with a look as he commented that if Sirius was happy to share the spotlight with him, he should be just as good a sportsman about sharing it with Remus. And then he’d dropped it with an easy laugh and they hadn’t said another word about it.

Sirius had tried his damnedest not to be a prick about it. He’d held his tongue the second time he’d caught Remus snogging a girl, and the third time, and the fourth. He’d lost count now of how many times Remus had sauntered into the Common Room or the dorm with his lips bitten and his hair mussed, how many times his bed had stood eerily stagnant with a silencing charm, how many times he’d been unaccounted-for past curfew, and checking the Map had revealed his name on top of some girl’s name, crammed into a broom cupboard or empty classroom or secret passage.

And Sirius had figured it out before too long, that it wasn’t the girls he was jealous over, it was Remus himself. Once he’d even tried shagging a girl Remus had been with, Freyja Anderson, but that had turned out to be an abysmal idea. It had started out alright enough, Freyja was clever and fit, with big brown eyes and a wicked talented tongue, and thinking about that tongue being entwined with Remus’ had made contact with it intoxicating, like some kind of secondhand high. But it had been unsatisfying and after he’d mentioned Remus one or two times too many, Freyja had grown irritated and pointed past the silencing charm-ed hangings of Sirius’ bed, asking if they should just invite Remus in for a threeway and be done with it. Apparently blinking several times in stunned consideration had not been a reasonable answer to her sarcasm, and she’d taken her leave with an eyeroll. That had been the last time Sirius had tried that approach.

“Where’s Moony?” Sirius whined, self-restraint failing him yet again.

“He’s still in the library, I presume,” Wormtail answered dryly, not looking up from the game of chess he was winning against James, “Just as he was the last time you asked, five entire minutes ago.”

“It’s been more than five minutes…” Sirius grumbled, slouching lower on the Common Room couch.

“It hasn’t been more than ten.” Prongs stated, diplomatic but definitely in agreement with Peter.

“Well, you two are boring !” Sirius complained, “What do you expect me to do?”

This time, Peter did roll his eyes, “Dunno, Sirius, you could do some homework or something?” Sirius snorted, but Peter went on, “Nip to the kitchens and bug the house-elves? Go plant some dungbombs by Filch’s office? Hex a Slytherin, read a book, have a wank, braid your hair–”

“Wormtail,” with a word from James, Peter shut up dutifully but it didn’t matter, Sirius was already getting up, ready to go sulk in peace in the dorm, “Pads–”

“It’s fine, Prongs,” Sirius waved off, “I’m going to go piss on Wormy’s bed to divert myself.”

“Mind you don’t splash mine, yeah?” James said straight-faced and Sirius snickered despite himself, stalking away as Peter ignored them both and declared, “Check.”

~~~

Lately, Remus had been spending more time in the library than he had in Gryffindor Tower, and there were two reasons for that. The first, the foremost, the public and accepted reason was that OWLs were fast approaching and he would be damned if he didn’t get top marks. Remus had always felt he had something to prove when it came to academics, and that was all the more true for OWLs than for normal assignments. After all, his very admittance to Hogwarts would be controversial if anyone ever found out he was a werewolf and he’d be damned if he didn’t prove with every grade that people like him had just as much right to be here as anyone else. Most people didn’t know the lycanthropy bit, of course, but everyone knew he was a diligent student, so his nearly daily presence in the library raised no eyebrows.

Grades and exams, though, were not the only reason he spent so much time hiding amongst the books. Because the second reason was as motivating to Remus as the first, if not moreso. In the library, Remus didn’t have to worry about Sirius hanging about and looking like utter temptation, smelling delicious, sounding so warm and wicked and making it utterly impossible for Remus to revise. Sirius was loath to enter the library – though he wasn’t officially banned, he’d been on very thin ice with the librarian ever since he’d not-so-accidentally flooded half the place with an over-zealous fountain charm in the adjacent lavatory – and that meant that here, Remus was free to think about things other than the way the ends of Sirius’ hair brushed over the gaunt, graceful line of his collarbone.

Or well, in theory he could think about other things. Right now was perhaps not the best example.

Without meaning to, Remus had become the central fixture of an unofficial OWLs study group. Sometimes he would help his classmates, or they would help one another, but just as often they would share the big table by the windows in companionable quiet, in silent solidarity of a common cause. Other times… they’d distract each other when their brains had all gone to mush with too much reading and they needed a laugh.

Quite a few of their number had already called it a night, but Remus still had some company at the table. Pearl was poring over Arithmancy charts and leaning heavily on one hand, her eyelids hanging quite heavily over her eyes, and two Ravenclaw boys, Michael and Rhys, were still quizzing each other listlessly on magical herbs. Inevitably, Pearl’s head slipped drowsily from her hand and Remus cast a cushioning charm just fast enough to keep her from banging her chin rather unpleasantly against the wooden table, “Oof,” she grumbled, rubbing her hands over her sleepy face, “Cheers, Remus, I reckon it’s time for bed.”

“Hear, hear,” Michael agreed, seeming all too happy to shove his notes into his bag, “I’m knackered.”

Remus stood up and stretched his arms above his head, stiff from long hours in the wooden chair. It was a week to the next full moon but he could already feel its nearness, a surplus of magic coiled up in his joints, lurking in his guts, and the folds of his sinews. It was like this every month, the restless days of waxing that made it hard to sleep and a little harder to manage his magic. 

As Remus relaxed his arms and swiveled his neck, his skin prickled with the sensation of eyes on him. A glance confirmed that it was Rhys, frozen in the midst of pushing in his chair, gaze glued to Remus in a familiar, albeit surprising, way. Familiar, because over the last year Remus had grown quite adept at recognizing the tells of desire (odd though it had been, at first, to realize that people actually desired him ). Surprising, because he could count on one hand how many times a boy had desired him. 

He could count it on one finger, in fact. A Muggle back home in Wales by the name of Charlie whose birdwatching hobby had led him to knock on the Lupins’ door and ask why there were so many owls coming and going from their cottage. He’d been cute, slight and dark-haired, and easily distracted from owls when Remus had smiled at him. They didn’t have much in common, but they discovered a mutual interest in snogging that had confirmed some things for Remus.

And now, Rhys Braeburn was giving him the same look that Charlie had that first day at the door, like there was a question he very much wanted to ask, but he wasn’t sure quite how. Remus stared back at him and Rhys noticed he’d been caught, Remus raised his eyebrows, “Eh,” Rhys said with a casual air, as he gathered up his books, “I’m not ready for bed just yet, I think I fancy a walk and a smoke first.”

“Suit yourself,” Michael dismissed casually, “See ya, Lupin.” Remus gave a friendly wave as Michael followed Pearl from the library.

“How about it, Lupin?” Rhys asked, his tone lower and softer.

Remus smirked as he gathered up his own belongings, “Depends what you’re smoking,” he answered, with a sidelong glance, “And where you’re walking.”

“I’ve got some wicked grass off Ashley Weathers,” Rhys said quietly as they made their way to the library door. Remus had gotten off with Ashley a few times in Greenhouse Two, she was one of his favorite Hufflepuffs and it was a fact she had the best grass at Hogwarts. The two boys stopped as they stepped out into the corridor, and Rhys met Remus’ eyes rather bravely, “And I was thinking a stroll up the Astronomy Tower?”

He might be brave enough to be a Gryffindor, Remus reckoned. It might sound innocuous enough, but everyone knew that a one-on-one stroll up the Astronomy Tower this close to curfew could only lead to one thing. Remus smiled at Rhys and set his steps in the direction of the Astronomy Tower by way of response. Rhys was very nice to look at, with his dark skin and broad shoulders, lips that looked wonderfully soft and smiled easily back at him. There was no resemblance, but in the back of his mind, Remus wondered if it would be like with Charlie, too easy to imagine it was Sirius hot and hard against him… but he dismissed that thought. That was a problem for future Remus to sort out.

~~~

It was nearly midnight and Remus was still missing . Prongs had teased him for worrying, called him a nag and a mother hen, but he’d just given him instructions as to where he could shove it. Wormtail had tried to distract him from Moony’s absence, suggesting everything from Exploding Snap to digging out the bottle of gin he had stashed under his bed. Sirius had told him to go fuck himself, too, and he’d probably have to apologize for that in the morning. Pete had only been trying to help and really, it wasn’t his fault Moony apparently had better things to do these days than spend time with his fellow Marauders.

Bored with his sullen mood, the others had finally gone up to bed around eleven, leaving Sirius and his paranoia to fill up the now-vacant Common Room. He was likely to wear a hole in the hearth rug with the rate of his pacing. Moony had always used to cherish his quiet evenings by the fire or in bed, needing only a good book for company, pretending to tune out their antics only to deploy acerbic remarks at just the perfect moment. What had come over him lately? Was snogging every girl at Hogwarts really so grand that it had made some essential alteration to his personality?!

It was the fifth night this week that Remus had been out past curfew, and of course he was too clever to leave the Map behind, so Sirius had absolutely no way of knowing where he was. No doubt that was on purpose; a Moony that did not wish to be found would not be found. It was as simple as that. Of course, Sirius’ imagination was able to cook up far worse scenarios than whatever was actually going on. Moony was most likely just off snogging some lucky Ravenclaw girl in a broom cupboard or something, but there was a distinct possibility that a worse fate had befallen him. What if Snivellus was pestering him again? What if some Slytherins had caught him with his trousers ‘round his ankles? What if—?

The portrait hole chose that moment to swing open, seemingly for no one. Sirius ceased his pacing and glared at the empty air, unsurprised a second later when the space rippled like clear water, and Remus appeared from beneath Prongs’ Invisibility Cloak, “There you are!” Sirius burst out, unable to hold himself back.

Remus’ eyes shot to Sirius and he froze for a second, like a kid caught with his hand elbow-deep in the biscuit jar, before arching a brow and crossing his arms, “Here I am,” he said calmly, “What’s it to you, Pads?”

“It’s nothing to me ,” Sirius lied, suddenly feeling as though he were the one being caught out of bounds. He didn’t really have a right to interrogate Moony, did he? And besides that, his brain had gone a bit soupy under the intensity of Remus’ scrutiny, “It’s, it’s Prongs!”

“I don’t see Prongs lying in wait,” Remus observed, “Prongs?” he called a smidge louder, “You can come out now, mate!” When James did not appear, Remus cocked his head at Sirius, “What about Prongs, then?”

“He,” Sirius groped for an excuse, wishing he hadn’t chosen this approach but too stubborn to change tack, “Well, his Cloak!” he landed on, “He was going spare looking for it!”

“ Pfft, ” Remus dismissed with a roll of his eyes, “Try again, he gave me permission to borrow it, you tosser.” He put his hands on his hips and Sirius had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his eyes off the stance of those hips, “Just tell me the truth. What in the hell is it that has you in such a snit, Padfoot?”

“Well, you , obviously!” Sirius burst out and watched Remus’ face twist in a moue of distaste, stance shifting just slightly, ready to defend himself. Sirius tried to tug himself back into line; Remus hadn’t actually done anything wrong and he was just making himself look more like a prat scolding him over nothing. He pivoted, “Merlin, Moony, you should be getting some rest! It’s the full tomorrow and you need to conserve your strength.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but in any case, it wasn’t a lie. Even before his terribly inconvenient crush on Remus, he’d always been riddled with worry in this time of month, when the moon grew rounder and rounder each night.

Remus’ scowl relaxed slightly, “Well, that’s… kind of you, Sirius,” his expression grew stern as he went on, “But don’t try and tell me how to be a werewolf. Last I checked, I’m the expert between us two.”

It was Sirius’ turn to roll his eyes. He couldn’t help it when Remus got so tiresome and noble, “I’m not trying to tell you how to do anything , I just—”

“And there’s no reason my being a werewolf should keep me from having a bit of fun now and then.” He said, one corner of his lips twitching.

“A bit? ” Sirius couldn’t restrain himself from arguing, “Now and then?! Moony, it’s every bloody day and night!”

“And what of it? What’s it to you?” Remus demanded, throwing up his hands, James’ cloak fluttering from his right fist, “If you’re jealous—”

“ Jealous ?” Sirius’ voice cracked as fear of being called out ran cold in his veins, was he really that obvious about it? “That’s bollocks—”

“Yes, jealous, because I pull so much more than you do!” Remus argued hotly, “Which is frankly asinine seeing as you’re fitter than I’ll ever be, even with every fucking glamour in the book—”

“Oh, that’s crap !” Sirius dismissed, heart racing from the instant he’d spent thinking Remus knew the true source of his jealousy, “If I am fitter than you, you’re the only one who thinks so!”

“Don’t be daft,” Remus’ face was bright red, with irritation, no doubt, “You could have any girl in this castle!” It was cruel irony, really, that Sirius didn’t want any girl in the castle, he only wanted the boy who was currently yelling at him about how fit he was.

“Moony…” he tried, but the truth seemed lodged in his throat, and no more excuses could squeeze past, and Remus was already stalking off to go up to bed.

“C’mon, git,” he said wearily, and a bit conciliatory, “You need your rest for tomorrow, too.”

Sirius sucked in a deep breath before following Remus up to the dorm, wishing he’d just left well enough alone. That had come too close to the truth by half. As he opened the door to the dorm, Remus turned to him as if to ask something. Sirius halted, just barely avoiding walking right into him. The light of the almost full moon shone through the dorm window and Moony looked positively ethereal in its light. Remus’ eyes searched his, the bright amber rendered colorless by the silver dim, and Sirius yearned to reach out and touch the worn wool of his jumper and feel the warmth of him underneath, he yearned to pull him close and keep him safe, he yearned to close the small distance between them and cover Moony’s lips with his. Those lips opened and closed a few times, uncertainly, and then frowned sort of fondly, “Good night, Padfoot…” he said, a tender whisper that seemed to echo Sirius’ own yearning.

And then he walked away, going into the lavatory and shutting the door.

~~~

Sirius bloody Black thought he knew everything. Smug bastard, he always thought he was one step ahead of everyone around him, which was all the more frustrating for the fact that most people really couldn’t keep up. He thought a few years of observation meant he knew everything about the full moon, and everything about Remus Lupin. There was a kind of bittersweet sickly satisfaction to knowing just how much Sirius didn’t know about him.

Firstly, he didn’t know that in the days leading up to the full, Remus was brimming not just with magic but with energy . Energy that particularly manifested itself in libido. In the overflowing waxing days, Remus’ appetite was nigh insatiable and his stamina relentless.

Secondly, Sirius didn’t know that sometimes the people Remus snuck off with weren’t girls at all. Since their stroll up the Astronomy Tower earlier in the week, Remus and Rhys Braeburn had been sneaking off together at every possible opportunity. That first night, they had smoked for so long without touching that Remus had begun to think he’d misread the invitation, but then Rhys had been breathing heady smoke across Remus’ lips and Remus had kissed him and oh. It was like it had been with Charlie, but different too, more desperate and hungry. Where Charlie had fumbled, Rhys firmly took hold. Where Charlie had tittered, Rhys swore against Remus’ skin. There was something decisive in his touch that seemed such a contrast to the soft pliant desire of the Muggle Charlie and most of the girls Remus had taken to bed.

And… well, he was a boy . The stubble on his chin rasped against Remus’ own, his chest was flat against Remus when they pressed together, and Remus couldn’t seem to keep his hands off the hard cock that strained behind Rhys’ trousers. The first night they’d gotten off just rubbing themselves against each other, the second time Remus had sucked Rhys off, the third time Rhys had returned the favor. It was intoxicating and… when Remus had his eyes closed, it might not have been Rhys’ cock at all.

It was unkind to use him that way, Remus knew, but he reasoned with himself that what Rhys didn’t know couldn’t possibly hurt him. And besides, it wasn’t as if they were going steady or anything, they were reasonably good friends who were both happy to have found a fellow poof to get off with. And it wasn’t just that Rhys was a means of letting off steam about Sirius, Remus really did like him and desire him in his own right. Especially with the moon already feverish in his veins.

And all of that was why, when he’d been on his way to the Great Hall for dinner and a pair of increasingly-familiar hands had tugged him into an empty classroom, Remus was all too happy to let himself be pulled away. All too happy to snog Rhys’ brains out, pressing him down against a desk and grinding their bodies together in a frenzy. The moon was mere hours away and Remus’ skin felt barely able to contain the power and the hunger within him, his own lust blurring with the hunger of the wolf that usually lay dormant within him.

He was too inflamed to even feel shame for the wolfish way he dragged his teeth along the racing pulse in Rhys’ throat. Rhys’ hand tugged at Remus’ hair and he growled, Rhys’ hips jerking up against him in response to the sound. He felt drunk on the electric air, on the sex and magic that twisted in the space around and between them. He shut his eyes in an effort to keep his climax from coming too soon, but it was a mistake. The second he closed his eyes, Sirius crept into his thoughts – like he always did – and it was too easy to imagine that the hand in his hair and the hand on his arse and the hard cock against his own belonged to Sirius . It was too much, fuck , he wasn’t going to last, he felt like he was going to be blown apart by all the need and magic that warred within him, the word breaking from his lips on a breath, “ Pads– ”

The door banged open and everything scattered to pieces. Remus’ pleasure was shattered by panic as he scrambled off of Rhys, barely managing to stand on shaky legs, his hand drawing his wand in a matter of milliseconds. Rhys looked terrified, gone pale and saucer-eyed on the desk as he tried to straighten out his open pants and twisted shirt. And in the doorway to the classroom, a familiar piece of parchment in hand, stood Sirius himself, the expression on his face peculiarly unreadable, even to Remus, who knew his face so well.

The three boys blinked at each other for a couple of seconds, and then Rhys was clambering off the desk and hightailing it out of the room, ducking past Sirius. He broke into a run, his footfalls echoing in the empty corridor beyond. Sirius stood like a statue in the door, a vague frown marring his exquisite features as if he were trying to solve a puzzle, but of course there could be no doubt about what he had walked in on. Maybe it was Sirius' frown, maybe it was embarrassment, or maybe it was the frustration of his thwarted orgasm, all that energy still pent up inside of him, but Remus was a little surprised by the heat of the anger bubbling in his gut, “Well,” he bit out, ready to have it over with, “Let’s hear it, then.”

Sirius’ frown deepened, “I didn’t know,” Sirius said, “You’re with so many girls, I didn’t know you were…” Remus raised his eyebrows slowly, daring Sirius to put a word on it, “Bent.”

“It doesn’t make a difference to me whether they’re a bloke or a girl, or well, neither, or both…” It didn’t. It didn’t make a difference because all of them were appealing in their own right, and all of them were equally not Sirius.

“I didn’t know,” Sirius repeated, “I… you never miss dinner before the full, and Prongs had the Map today so I just meant to check, and…” he explained haltingly, waving the parchment vaguely, “I saw you in here with… him and, I, well, to be honest I didn’t remember whether Rhys Braeburn or Reese Burnside was the half-blood Slytherin the year behind us and I thought maybe he was giving you a hard time,” Sirius cringed at his word choice, coughed uneasily, “Well, erm, in any case, I thought you only did that with girls so it didn’t even occur to me that I might be interrupting, that you might be–”

“Is it a problem?” Remus asked coolly, but in truth his heart was beating so hard it felt like it was going to bust clean out of his chest. What would he do if Sirius said it was a problem? He’d kept it a secret partly out of habit – he was used to having secrets – and partly because, surely, if Sirius knew he wasn’t straight it was only a matter of time before he recognized the feelings Remus harbored for him , and… fuck, what was he going to do if Sirius were actually to reject him or see him differently? He usually wasn’t dramatic, but he was fairly sure that would actually break his heart.

“N-no!” Sirius blurted out, after a pause that was just a pinch too long, “No, it’s… fine. I mean, why would it be a problem?”

Remus shrugged, looking off to the side because anything would be better than continuing to hold Padfoot’s intense gaze, “Dunno, I reckon it’s less damning than being a werewolf, but you never know…”

“Right, speaking of which,” Sirius said, sounding a little relieved for the opportunity to change the subject, “Let’s get some dinner in you before you’ve got to go to Pomfrey, yeah?”

Remus sighed, “Sure, yeah.” and followed Sirius from the classroom. The two walked to the Great Hall in total silence. Well, near-total silence. Remus could hear the rapid beat of Sirius’ heart as he walked beside him, and he wished he couldn’t. He didn’t relish the evidence of his friend’s discomfort with the evening’s revelation.

~~~

The hospital wing was silent but for the sound of Remus' inhale-exhale, inhale-exhale. His breath still rattled slightly but was not as shallow as it had been hours before, and Sirius tried to be comforted by this, tried to take it as proof that Madam Pomfrey's potions were doing their job, invisibly mending tissues and knitting Remus back together. 

He was going to be okay. Pomfrey had said as much and it was not in her nature to say anything that she did not mean. Besides, she was very fond of Remus in particular, and if he (or any other student, for that matter) required treatment beyond her abilities she would have had them transferred to St. Mungo's without a moment's hesitation. So, all that taken into consideration, Sirius knew that Remus was going to be alright. But, well… that didn't change how frightening the moon had been, and it didn't alleviate the weight of guilt and worry that threatened to crush him.

It was the roughest full moon Remus had had in a long time. Even with the companionship of his Marauders, Moony had been restless and frustrated, frenetic and vicious. Three times he’d tried to give them the slip, and countless times resorted to scratching or gnawing at himself. Sirius and James had been kept busy trying to prevent Moony from tearing himself to shreds. When the sun had finally peeked past the horizon and the wolf had relinquished Remus, the body he twisted back into was covered in blood, seeming tiny and broken compared to the fierceness of the wolf.

Pomfrey had arrived mere moments after sunrise, thank Merlin. A minute longer and Sirius would have thrown their careful secrecy to the wind, scooped up Remus’ unconscious frame, and rushed back to the castle himself. Instead the Marauders had followed Pomfrey at a discreet distance and Prongs had murmured worriedly, "Merlin’s balls, what was that? What was different this month?"

Sirius had only shaken his head mutely as if he hadn’t an inkling, but guilt was digging its roots deep in his gut and he had his suspicions as to what was different.

Remus had needed more intervention from Pomfrey, and she didn’t allow for visitors until the afternoon, at which time Sirius had rushed to his bedside. The image of Remus bloodied and frail had plagued him all day, and just seeing him intact in the infirmary bed had been a relief. He was very still and very pale, and he had barely stirred since Sirius' arrival, even hours later now with the sky was bruising into dusk beyond the hospital windows.

Sirius fiddled with the corner of Remus' blanket and wondered, his thoughts chasing themselves round and round, like Padfoot pursuing his own tail - Had Moony behaved like that because of him? Because of the way he’d interrupted Remus with that boy, because of something he’d said in the stilted conversation that had followed? Merlin knew Sirius was bloody confused, maybe Remus was too?

It was a self-centered dreadful thought, but he couldn’t help wondering, if Remus wasn’t straight then why had he been getting off with some Ravenclaw bloke and not with Sirius himself? Remus had said how fit Sirius was, but if he was so fit then why didn’t Remus want him ? Was it because of the disastrous events of that full moon the previous year, the one Remus insisted he had forgiven, the one where Snivellus was rather too nearly reduced to a bloody stain in the Shrieking Shack? If Remus was still sore about that, though, he would have had rather a hard time hiding it. No, Sirius didn’t reckon it was that. He cringed as he wondered, was it just that Remus saw Sirius in a purely platonic sense, was he too much like a brother to be a lover? Sweet Circe, he hoped it wasn’t that, as he’d had no such obstacle to desiring Remus.

Or maybe… well, Sirius had been quite convinced that Remus wasn’t bent, what with the revolving door of girls ever in and out of his four-poster bed. Was it possible that Remus had just assumed that Sirius fancied girls, despite him never showing much interest in them? Maybe it wasn’t a rejection at all. Maybe…

A groan from the bed and Sirius' brain went blank, all his attention snapping to Remus’ face. His features crinkled up and he stretched beneath the starched white sheet, wincing slightly as he made to sit up, “Oi, Moony, no,” Sirius shushed, gently pressing his shoulders back into the mounded pillows, “Take it easy, mate, you’ve had a rough go.”

A tight exhale that vaguely resembled a laugh, “Yeah, feels like I have,” Remus relaxed back into the pillows and his eyes opened, a bit bloodshot but amber bright in the last sunlight, pouring gold into the Hospital Wing, “I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?” Sirius’ heart ached at the smallness of Remus’ voice, the bare terror in his eyes.

“‘Course not,” Sirius reassured him. His hands still rested on Remus’ shoulders and it was a little awkward that they were still there, but would it be more awkward if he pulled back? He didn’t want to pull back. His thumbs stroked comfortingly over the outer edge of Remus’ collarbone as he reminded him, “Me and the lads would never let that happen, yeah?”

Some of the worry eased out of Remus’ expression and his voice trembled slightly as he breathed out a relieved, “Yeah. Right, yeah,” He wet his cracked lips, “Will… would you tell me about it, Pads?”

“Nothing too mad,” Sirius assured him, “You were just restless, sort of frustrated. Like you wanted to run out, but you mainly were keen on chewing yourself up.”

Remus nodded, and said with a bitter chuckle, “Ah, well, makes sense then that I feel a bit masticated.”

Sirius laughed. He couldn’t not laugh. Remus’ dry humor always got him, and he was just so bloody relieved that he was okay enough to be joking in the first place. He really wanted to drag him into a hug, squeeze him tight and feel the solid warmth of him, alive and for all intents and purposes intact. He really wanted to kiss his chapped lips, to stop him from nervously nibbling them. He really didn’t want to take his hands off him.

As if sensing the thought, Remus craned his neck, tilting his cheek so that it rested against the back of Sirius’ hand. Sirius’ heart melted at the gesture, oozing warm and sweet as sticky toffee behind his sternum. He allowed his hand to turn, caressing Remus’ cheek before tenderly stroking the hair back from his brow, “You’re alright, Moons,” he said, barely above a whisper, “Madam Pomfrey poured loads of potion down your throat and it’s fixing you up as we speak.” Remus hummed his agreement, eyes drifting shut again as Sirius’ fingernails trailed over his scalp, “That’s it, just get some more rest, and you’ll be good as new in no time.”

“Mm, Padfoot…” Remus mumbled, but then slipped off back into sleep. Sirius fingers continued carding through the soft tawny waves of Remus’ hair, the melting feeling in his chest nearly bringing tears to his eyes. The thing was, and maybe he’d never admitted it to himself until now, he really didn’t just fancy the idea of snogging Remus, or shagging him. He loved him, had had a raging crush on him for ages now. He was so sick with love for him that he actually hadn’t the slightest idea of how to carry on. 

~~~

Remus had been out of hospital for almost a week, and to his dismay, things had not returned to normal between him and Sirius. Things weren’t bad, exactly, it wasn’t as though they were quarreling, but things were just awkward in a way they’d never been between the two boys before. Now that Sirius knew he fancied boys, Remus was on high alert, overthinking and withholding any sort of affection. He knew he was being cold, but he didn’t know how to treat Sirius like a mate without risking exposure.

And Sirius… well, Sirius was trying very hard. In an effort to prove that he wasn’t homophobic, he had taken to calling out any use of potentially offensive language, and censoring himself as well. This was fairly harmless, if a bit misguided, as Remus really was rather adjusted to people’s casual prejudices and had honestly never even thought to find some of it offensive in the first place. Being a werewolf gave one a rather thick skin, after all. 

And then there was the painfully inclusive language – Wormy had hexed him when he’d asked if there were any girls or lads he had his eye on for Valentine’s day, thinking it a joke at his expense – and the unnecessary asides. One could barely play a record in the common room without Sirius commenting on the possible queerness of the artist or the (sometimes far-fetched) potential of finding gay subtext in the lyrics.

The thing was, Remus knew that Sirius meant well by all of this, but it did little more than make him cringe most of the time. While he appreciated Sirius’ acceptance, it all seemed a little over the top. Besides which, Sirius and Rhys were the only ones that knew about Remus’ inclinations anyhow so it mostly just befuddled and irritated those around him. And worst of all, it made it impossible to ignore and move past. If they were going to continue on being mates, very well, but how was Remus supposed to do that when every hour there was some new reminder that he was different, and even if that was ‘okay’, was it really when what Remus really craved from Sirius was not an accepting friend, but a lover?

Because that had not gone away, obviously . If anything, his desire for Sirius had redoubled, and there wasn’t much of an outlet for it. He’d only hooked up with Rhys once since the moon, but it had likely been the last time. Rhys had been anxious that someone would barge in on them again, freezing any time there was a sound out in the corridor, and Remus had had a hard time enjoying it himself, acutely aware as he was that Rhys simply wasn’t the person he wanted to be like that with.

He would have had no trouble finding a willing girl to get off with, and he had considered it. There was a party in Ravenclaw Tower tonight for a girl that Peter fancied and Remus had weighed the option of going and getting bladdered and letting the first interested girl suck him off, but that had all felt rather bleak and pathetic and instead he’d fabricated a headache so that he might at least enjoy a quiet evening alone in the dorm. So he was sitting in bed with a book, staring at the words on the page and thinking about Sirius, which he was just as bleak and pathetic, but the least he could do was keep it to himself.

But of course, privacy didn’t really exist at Hogwarts. He heard steps coming up the stairs to the dorm, and a second later, Sirius burst into the dorm. Remus’ heart skipped and blood rushed south just at his presence. He was glorious . He smelled like alcohol and cake and his cheeks were pink, and he’d gotten into his tight Muggle blue jeans and a black t-shirt for the party and when he flicked his hair back from his eyes, Remus couldn’t help thinking he looked like a wet dream come to life. He couldn’t say that of course, so instead he said, “Why’re you back so soon?”

For the briefest of milliseconds, a wounded look flashed across his features before he smothered it in drunken bravado, “Ravenclaws bore me, Moony,” he complained, “You’re far more interesting.”

“Oh, indeed,” Remus mocked, gesturing to his book and the pajamas he’d changed into after dinner, “The real party is right here.”

“Exactly,” Sirius said, crossing to his own bed and opening wide the window beside it, allowing in a gust of cold air. Remus was about to complain about the cold, when Sirius withdrew a fat spliff from the pocket of his denims, shooting him a grin, “Care to join me?”

Sirius knew, of course, that Remus never said no to a smoke, “Reckon it might help my headache,” he lied, slipping the bookmark into his book and getting out of his bed, crossing the short distance to Sirius’. He hesitated for a second, could he really just climb into Sirius’ bed? Was that a normal thing for him to do? Would Sirius suspect how often and how desperately he had wanted to be in this bed? Would he–?

“Moons?” Sirius interrupted his thoughts and Remus climbed into the bed, accepting the unlit joint from Sirius. He tried to ignore the warmth of it, the thought of it nestled in the close heat of Sirius’ hip pocket, lucky lucky thing. He put it to his lips and lit it wandlessly, filling his lungs before passing it to Sirius.

“Thanks,” he said, voice tight as he held off on exhaling, “For sharing.”

“Happy to, Moons,” Sirius said, careless of the smoke spilling from his gorgeous mouth, “I know you love the stuff, and it’s been a long time since you’ve had any.”

“I smoked with Rhys, actually,” he corrected, as Sirius passed it back to him. He watched Sirius, trying to gauge whether this was a topic he could handle. He took another pull.

“Oh,” Sirius said a bit tightly, looking out the window at the waning moon, rising steadily from the hills beyond Hogsmeade, “Didn’t know that was something you did with him.” 

“Only the once,” Remus said, slowly easing the smoke from his lungs, beginning to feel the sweet welcome haze of it, “The first time.”

Sirius hummed, and took a long inhale, “That must’ve been fun for you both.” His tone was decidedly not happy for them.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Remus allowed, “If you have a problem thinking about two lads together.”

“Problem?!” Sirius exclaimed so sharply that it made him cough on the smoke, “Who said I have a problem? I haven’t got a problem!”

“Your tone said it all, Padfoot.” Remus plucked the forgotten spliff from Sirius’ fingers and took a puff.

“I don’t have a problem,” Sirius whined in his defense, “And if I did, the gay thing wouldn’t have anything to do with it!”

And actually, that was kind of true, wasn’t it? Sirius had always been prickly about him being with girls long before he had stumbled on Remus halfway to shagging Rhys, and maybe it was the way the weed was loosening his lips, or maybe it was the frustration of days without getting off, or maybe it was the very unavoidable nearness of Sirius himself, but Remus’ temper flared and the words flew from his lips, “That’s right, you’ve always had a problem with all of it! Go on, and let’s hear it then? What’s so wrong about it so long as everyone’s having a good time, eh? It’s not a–”

“ It should be me!”  

Sirius spat the words and they hit Remus like a dart, his anger deflating like a popped balloon and only confusion taking its place, “What?” he blinked dumbly.

“Dammit, Moony, it should be me getting you high not Rhys bloody Brandon ,” Remus didn’t bother correcting the name, too dumb with astonishment to even be sure how to form words just now, “And it should be me giggling in your bed in the morning, not the Hufflepuff of the week! And it should be me sneaking round with you under the cloak not Freyja, or Pearl , or Magdalena, or fucking Clarice, I mean, bloody hell, she’s practically a Slytherin! Or – ”

Before Sirius could go on rattling off names of people Remus had gotten off with, he finally found his voice enough to ask the question that made it all so impossible to make sense of, “You want to do those things with me?”

Sirius gave a groan of irritation, throwing up his hands, “ Yes, Remus, and Merlin’s beard, I know I shouldn’t! I know we’re supposed to be mates and you have a–”

Remus flicked the stub of the joint out the dorm window, and kissed him before another stupid word could come out of his stupid mouth. That stupid, dear, gorgeous mouth made a muffled sound of surprise and then his lips were pressing hard against Remus, opening up to Remus. And god was it better than anything. Better than Charlie or Rhys or any of the girls. Better than magic. He’d spent so long trying not to even imagine it, but he saw now how pointless that had been, as nothing his imagination could have invented would have come close to the real thing.

Reluctantly, Remus broke the kiss, but he had to be sure, “Is this real?”

Sirius blinked at him dazedly, “What?”

“I’m not hallucinating, right?”

Sirius snorted, “It was only grass, Moony.”

“I- yeah, I know, but, well,” Remus searched Sirius’ expression, “This isn’t… you’re not like, pranking me or, or experimenting or something?”

Sirius frowned, and then his hand was cupping Remus’ jaw, “Nah, Moons, this is real.”

“Oh,” a stupid grin stretched across Remus’ face, “Right, right, yeah.”

“I’m gonna kiss you again now, I reckon,” Sirius said and Remus only had time to nod before their lips met again and all his doubts seemed to melt away into oblivion. 

It might have had something to do with being high, but it had more to do with the elation of mutual desire, but everything seemed a haze. The heat of their bodies against the cold breeze through the window, the wet slide of tongues against the scrape of hungry teeth, the incongruity of Sirius’ drainpipe jeans against Remus’ worn flannel pajamas. Pajamas that Sirius’ clever hands were unbuttoning – and when had they laid down? – his fingers slightly cold against the warmth of Remus’ ribs. 

That touch was enough to bring him slightly back to his senses, enough to remind him of the Disillusionment glamour he hadn’t placed on his scars. He could perform it silently and none of his other partners had been any the wiser, or if they’d noticed it at all no doubt they had assumed he was hiding pimples, or stretch marks, or birth marks or something. But, of course, Sirius was different. Sirius was Sirius , so he noticed straightaway, “Moony, don’t.”

“But…” Remus didn’t know how many minutes had gone by while they’d been snogging, but his mouth was slow to remember how to actually talk, “My scars–”

“I’ve already seen them,” Sirius interrupted, fingertips tracing a scar near Remus’ navel, “I want to see them.”

“Padfoot, they’re ugly–”

Sirius shushed him, and kissed him for good measure, “They’re not,” he whispered, “And I wouldn’t care about that anyhow. I want to see you, and feel you, with nothing interfering,” a small soft sound escaped Remus’ throat, and he wondered if Sirius had any clue what he was doing to his heart. Sirius’ hand spread out under his shirt, pressing his palm to Remus’ chest and surely, he must feel the fluttering of his heart, “No more hiding from each other, yeah?”

What could Remus possibly do but nod his agreement, “Yeah,” he whispered, “No more hiding.” Sirius started kissing him again with renewed fervor, making short work of his buttons until the shirt was splayed open, goosebumps rising on Remus’ skin against the cold air and Sirius’ eager touch, hands exploring Remus’ chest and gripping his shoulders, his waist, as he straddled Remus’ hips, the desperate hardness of their cocks straining against each other through their clothes. Experimentally Remus thrust up against Sirius, and was rewarded by a delicious moan spilling into his mouth, making his heart and his cock leap in tandem, “Sirius,” he said, hating to break the kiss, but needing to; they’d said no hiding, “Sirius, I…”

Sirius’ eyes fluttered open above him, pupils blown wide with need, “Okay, Moony?”

“Yeah, terrific , I just,” Remus sucked in a breath, gathering the bravery to ask this question, knowing it might cause this delicious pleasure to come to an end, “This isn’t just a shag, is it? I mean, I… this can’t…” he swallowed the lump in his throat and just forced the words out, “I want you like mad but I don’t just want you, I mean, I fancy you. Properly. And fun as this is, I-I don’t want to do it if it’s just fun for you, because I–”

Sirius was shaking his head, a bemused tender smile on his face, “It’s not,” he said, “I fancy you too, Remus. Properly. ”

Maybe it was idiotic that after all that had transpired, that was what set Remus’ face afire with a blush. But maybe not, because even in the low light, he was sure he could make out a matching blush on Sirius’ cheeks. He cupped those cheeks with his hands and dragged Sirius down into another kiss. Impossibly, this one seemed even hotter and sweeter than the others. Sirius fancied him, and nothing could be sweeter than that.