R/S drabble 3
Crossposted to dogdaysofsummer
Nowadays, Remus is searching desperately for a grin.
It is not any old grin. It is Sirius's happy grin, the one that, even after twelve years in Azkaban, can make Remus drop whatever he's doing and just bask. But Remus can't find it any more, hasn't been able to since they moved here to this godforsaken place. Outside, August is sprinkling red and yellow flowers on the streets ("Gryffindor colors, see, Sirius?" Remus points out through the window) but inside 12 Grimmauld Place the air is grey and the walls are grey, and he can almost taste the hated color congealing coldly within Sirius. His friend is desperate. Whenever Remus returns from a mission, Sirius practically attacks him, not caring where come spatters or flesh bruises, so long as there's touch. It's something, at least, or maybe. Remus likes to think that his presence helps.
But even that is probably a delusion - Sirius wakes up three times each night, and shakes so badly it rattles Remus's soul.
After a while (Remus doesn't know the exact date because time has become a senseless frantic crawl) Harry arrives, and that lifts Sirius's spirits a little. But then Sirius starts talking more and more about James, and it reminds Remus why he decided on a cold January night in 1982 (he was drunk, granted, but he's thought since then that it was a good decision all the same) to never love anyone ever again. Not loving means not being hurt by deception, or being left. It's the reason he never wrote to Harry after leaving Hogwarts, and why he hasn't ever let himself fall for anyone for the past twelve years. The werewolf thing is a convenient excuse. But Sirius is a relic of another lifetime, and oh, Remus had love then. So he tries everything he can to cheer his lover up through the long nights when Sirius is too restless to sleep, or too plagued by things Remus can't really bring himself to think about. There's sex and alcohol, card games and books and converation. One night, when the house itself is sweltering from August and Sirius complains of the heat, Remus goes out even though it's midnight and comes back an hour later with chocolate ice cream. Sirius simply looks annoyed at having been left alone for that hour. The heat makes Remus want to lash out at him, to yell just grin, for fuck's sake but he squashes that impulse and spoons some ice cream into two bowls. Sirius doesn't touch his.
Remember Augusts past? Remus wants to ask. He remembers sand, and sun, their lips meeting, kisses sweetened by melted ice cream. In his mind, they are young and the horizon is so, so blue.
Sirius smiles when he tells him, but the thick walls behind his eyes do not come down.
The ice cream in Sirius's bowl is melting, and Remus can't break through.
Nowadays, Remus is searching desperately for a grin.
It is not any old grin. It is Sirius's happy grin, the one that, even after twelve years in Azkaban, can make Remus drop whatever he's doing and just bask. But Remus can't find it any more, hasn't been able to since they moved here to this godforsaken place. Outside, August is sprinkling red and yellow flowers on the streets ("Gryffindor colors, see, Sirius?" Remus points out through the window) but inside 12 Grimmauld Place the air is grey and the walls are grey, and he can almost taste the hated color congealing coldly within Sirius. His friend is desperate. Whenever Remus returns from a mission, Sirius practically attacks him, not caring where come spatters or flesh bruises, so long as there's touch. It's something, at least, or maybe. Remus likes to think that his presence helps.
But even that is probably a delusion - Sirius wakes up three times each night, and shakes so badly it rattles Remus's soul.
After a while (Remus doesn't know the exact date because time has become a senseless frantic crawl) Harry arrives, and that lifts Sirius's spirits a little. But then Sirius starts talking more and more about James, and it reminds Remus why he decided on a cold January night in 1982 (he was drunk, granted, but he's thought since then that it was a good decision all the same) to never love anyone ever again. Not loving means not being hurt by deception, or being left. It's the reason he never wrote to Harry after leaving Hogwarts, and why he hasn't ever let himself fall for anyone for the past twelve years. The werewolf thing is a convenient excuse. But Sirius is a relic of another lifetime, and oh, Remus had love then. So he tries everything he can to cheer his lover up through the long nights when Sirius is too restless to sleep, or too plagued by things Remus can't really bring himself to think about. There's sex and alcohol, card games and books and converation. One night, when the house itself is sweltering from August and Sirius complains of the heat, Remus goes out even though it's midnight and comes back an hour later with chocolate ice cream. Sirius simply looks annoyed at having been left alone for that hour. The heat makes Remus want to lash out at him, to yell just grin, for fuck's sake but he squashes that impulse and spoons some ice cream into two bowls. Sirius doesn't touch his.
Remember Augusts past? Remus wants to ask. He remembers sand, and sun, their lips meeting, kisses sweetened by melted ice cream. In his mind, they are young and the horizon is so, so blue.
Sirius smiles when he tells him, but the thick walls behind his eyes do not come down.
The ice cream in Sirius's bowl is melting, and Remus can't break through.