Falling
My second fic for round one of the rs_games.
Title: Falling
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Descriptions of blood and violent death
Summary: When a mission goes wrong, there is only one person that Sirius wants to go to.
‘Lumos.’
Remus’ voice was husky with sleep as he sat up, blinking in the light from his wand and pushing back his blankets into a tangled heap. He reached for his alarm clock, brushing his tousled hair back from his eyes as he checked the time.
Four o’clock in the morning. Something must have woken him; he had been so tired last night that he had barely had time to clean his teeth and undress before collapsing into bed and falling into an exhausted sleep. There was no way he would have woken naturally before -
There it was again. A knock, soft but unmistakeable, hollow-sounding against the old wooden door of his tiny flat. Suddenly completely awake, Remus swung himself out of bed, dragging on a faded pair of jeans and a soft cotton jumper as he padded barefoot through his sitting room to the door. His wand was a smooth, comforting weight in his hand as he stood against the wall for a few moments, listening intently, his heart hammering in his chest. He had learned to be cautious in the months since leaving school, they all had; opening the door to an unknown visitor in the middle of the night was not something to be done lightly.
'Who's there?'
'It's me. It's Padfoot,' came the soft reply.
Very cautiously, he opened the door a crack, wand raised in readiness to defend himself. The figure on the doorstep turned to look at him, and Remus let out a breath of relief, letting the door swing open.
‘Sirius? What are you doing here?’
‘I’m sorry, Remus. I know it’s late - I just - I just didn’t know where to come -’ His voice had an odd, uneasy tone, and Remus reached out instinctively, pulling him inside with a gentle hand on his arm.
‘Hey, it’s okay. Come in, it’s freezing out there.’ Remus shut the door with a firm click, a warm glow illuminating the tiny room as he waved his wand at the lamp in the corner. Turning to look at his friend, he began to speak, and then broke off as Sirius shrugged off his leather jacket, revealing a grey shirt underneath, almost black across the front, glistening dark and wet in the lamplight. Tentatively, Remus touched his fingertips to Sirius’ chest, his eyes widening with horror as they came away red and sticky with blood.
‘Gods, Padfoot!’
‘It’s okay. It’s not mine. At least, most of it isn’t, I think.’ Sirius was suddenly ashen-pale, beginning to shake as he looked down at the blood that soaked his chest. Remus put an arm firmly around his shoulder, steering him towards the old, threadbare sofa and pulling him down close beside him as he turned to face him, his fingers fumbling clumsily in his haste to unbutton Sirius’ shirt. He half expected Sirius to make some suggestive comment, to breathe that dark smoky laugh of his and ask why Remus was in such a hurry to undress him, but when he looked into the grey eyes he saw only exhaustion and a distant, guarded pain.
A flick of his wand and a muttered Accio brought a large plastic basin, cloth and towel sailing into his lap, and the bowl filled with warm steaming water at his hurried ‘Aguamenti tepidus’. He dipped the cloth into the basin and wrung it out, and then began to wipe the blood from Sirius’ chest with careful, gentle strokes, thin trickles of red-tinted water running down over the creamy skin of his stomach and soaking into the waistband of his jeans. When he had finished, the water in the basin was crimson, but he found only a few scratches and shallow grazes on Sirius’ chest as he rubbed the soft towel gently over his damp skin.
‘You’re shivering.’ Remus’ voice was soft. ‘Let me get you something to wear. I’ll be back in a minute.’ He scooped up the towels and basin as he stood, bundling Sirius’ shirt up with the bloodstained cloth and carrying it into his bathroom, throwing the water down the sink and the red-streaked bundle into the laundry basket. He could deal with it later; for now, there were more important things to worry about. Grabbing a soft cotton shirt in deep Gryffindor red from the wardrobe in his bedroom, he strode back across to the sofa where Sirius was still huddled, pale and quiet, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. Remus rested a hand lightly on his shoulder, Sirius’ skin cold under his hand.
‘Here, put this on.’ Remus dropped the shirt in Sirius’ lap, giving his shoulder a brief squeeze before walking over to the kitchen. ‘I’ll be right back.’
Reaching up to the small cupboard on the kitchen wall, he pulled out an almost full bottle of firewhiskey and two chipped blue mugs, turned back and then stopped in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe, his breath catching in his throat. Sirius was curled like a child at the end of the sofa, his dark hair falling around his pale face, suddenly beautiful with a strange, unfamiliar fragility. Remus couldn’t remember, now, a time before he had loved Sirius; it had become a part of his life, as essential and unspoken as the tides of the moon in his blood. Still, eight years of hiding his emotion behind smiles and books and friendship had taught him how to handle moments like this. Just breathe, and move through it.
He crossed the room in two easy strides, dropped down on the sofa beside Sirius, just close enough that their arms almost touched, and splashed a generous measure of firewhiskey into each mug. He turned with a half-smile and pushed one of the mugs into Sirius’ hands, and then waited as he took a deep gulp of the whiskey. At last, Sirius turned and looked at him, and Remus let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.
‘So.’
Sirius breathed out, a long, shaky exhalation. ‘So. I suppose I should explain why I turned up on your doorstep in the middle of the night and dripped blood all over your carpet.’
‘I was wondering.’ Remus gave him a half-smile. ‘Order business?’
‘Mm-hm.’ Sirius inclined his head in a brief nod. ‘Messy.’
‘I gathered.’
Sirius lapsed into silence again, and Remus sat quietly beside him, sipping at his whiskey, giving him time to collect his thoughts. There was no need for an explanation, really, and Sirius seemed disinclined to talk, but the two of them had always been comfortable with silence; stretched out on the grass in the Hogwarts grounds, curled in armchairs in the common room, in the pub over a companionable pint. He let the minutes tick by, listening to the rain on the window and Sirius’ quiet breathing beside him, until at last Sirius spoke quietly.
‘Remember that time at school, when we Transfigured all the Slytherins’ quills into snakes in the middle of Arithmancy?’
Remus looked at him in surprise. ‘Of course. One went and hid in the rafters and wouldn’t come down for a week. Fifty points we lost, wasn’t it?’
‘Worth it.’ Sirius’ mouth quirked in something like amusement. There was silence for a moment as he took another sip of whiskey, and then he spoke again, a strange, unfamiliar hollowness in his voice. ‘We thought we were invincible, didn’t we?’
‘We were children.’ Remus rested his hand very lightly over Sirius’.
‘Mm.’ A long, heavy silence. ‘Remus, can I stay with you tonight?’
‘Of course you can. There’s not much of the night left anyway.’
‘I mean, can I stay with you? In your bed, I mean. I don’t - I don’t want to be alone tonight.’
Remus took a deep breath, and forced a casual smile. ‘Come on, then. Your feet had better not be cold.’
Sirius’ answering smile was shaky but genuine, and his hand was warm in Remus’ as he pulled him to his feet.
***
Remus stood in the tiny bathroom, staring at himself in the small, cracked mirror, holding tightly to the edge of the sink as he tried to calm his racing heart with long, deep breaths. The eyes that looked back at him from the mirror were dark and full of nervous anticipation, and there was a hint of heightened colour in his cheeks. Impatient with himself, he ran a hand through his hair, letting tousled coppery strands fall over his eyes.
‘Get a grip, Remus,’ he muttered under his breath. How difficult could this be? He was just offering much-needed comfort to a friend. It was only Padfoot.
Only Padfoot, with his laugh like honey and smoke and his smile like the sunrise after a full moon night; his vanilla-cream skin and eyes of twilight grey, eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets and promises behind dark lashes -
Remus groaned softly. It was going to be a long night.
***
Sirius was warm and quiet beside him, very still in the darkness, his breathing shallow and steady. Remus was alive with the awareness of him, bodies almost touching beneath the sheets, the faint scent of cedar and citrus that was all Sirius just at the edge of his consciousness. The minutes ticked by in silence, and Remus closed his eyes, breathing deeply, letting himself drift at the edge of dreams, until Sirius’ voice, soft and low in the darkness, brought him back to a sudden, sharp wakefulness.
‘We were in Regent’s Park, just at the edge of Primrose Hill, staking out a Death Eater meeting. We’d had a tip-off that they’d be there; you know they’ve been meeting all over London for weeks.’
Remus said nothing, understanding Sirius’ need for darkness and silence. He reached out, finding Sirius’ hand beneath the covers, and felt his fingers curl tightly around his own.
‘We weren’t supposed to interfere at all, just watch and listen and report back. Frank was with me; it was just us, it was supposed to be an easy mission.’ He let out a small, shaky breath, not quite a laugh. ‘Well, it didn’t really turn out that way.’ He was silent for a few heartbeats before continuing in a low, soft voice.
‘There were four of them there; I couldn’t see who, they all had hoods over their faces. They were planning something big, I think, they were really edgy. They were just starting to talk about it when a Muggle woman came up the path; gods know what she was doing out at that time, she might have been a prostitute or something, I don’t know. She just seemed to appear from nowhere, out of the trees, and the Death Eaters panicked. There were spells everywhere, I didn’t even recognise some of them, and everyone scattered and Frank chased them and I went to follow him but - ’ He broke off for a moment, holding tightly to Remus’ hand as he continued. ‘The woman was lying there on the ground, she was so still, and there was all this blood. I knelt beside her, and she looked up at me and, oh gods, Remus, her chest, I could see - I can’t even tell you. I put my arms around her, and she just, she just -’ His breath hitched, and Remus realised abruptly that he was crying, tears trickling over his temples into his hair as he lay looking up into the darkness. ‘She just held on to me, and she said, she said ‘I’m dying, aren’t I?’ and I couldn’t answer her. She asked me to talk to her, and I did; I don’t know what I said, but I stayed with her and I was still talking when Frank got back, and she was dead. She was dead, Remus.’
Remus rolled onto his side, facing Sirius, and reached over to brush the damp strands of hair away from his face. As though his touch had broken down some final, unseen wall, Sirius buried his face in Remus’ neck with a stifled sob, his hands clutched tightly in his thin shirt. Remus held him close, running gentle fingers through his hair, whispering soft reassurances into the darkness as Sirius’ tears soaked through his shirt onto his chest. At last, Sirius looked up at him, eyes wide and frightened, and spoke in broken tones.
‘Don’t leave me, Moony. I can’t lose you. I can’t.’
‘Hey.’ Remus stroked his cheek very lightly with the tips of his fingers. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
‘People are so fragile. They die just like that.’ Sirius’ voice shook as he continued. ‘If you died, and I hadn’t told you - ’ He broke off, his expression utterly vulnerable as he looked up at Remus.
‘Hadn’t told me what?’ Remus was suddenly breathless; his heartbeat very loud in his own ears, and Sirius reached up, tangled his fingers in Remus’ tawny hair, and kissed him.
It was everything and nothing like he had imagined. He knew the contours of Sirius’ body almost as well as he knew his own, and years of guilty dreams had taught him the shape of shoulders and arms and neck under his hands. But nothing could have prepared him for the warm pressure of Sirius’ mouth on his, or the rush of heat that flooded over him as slender fingers traced their way up his spine. He tasted of whiskey and salt, a faint scent of wood and spice and the night sky clinging to his hair, and Remus gasped, pressing his hand against Sirius’ back, curling his fingers around the nape of his neck.
With a sudden, convulsive movement, Sirius pulled away, his breath hot and rapid against Remus’ neck. ‘I’m sorry, Moony. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have - I’ll go, you don’t have to say anything, I’ll just -’
‘Shh.’ Remus laid shaking fingertips over Sirius’ lips. ‘You don’t have to go anywhere. You don’t - I don’t want you to go.’ He stopped, letting out a shuddering breath, before continuing very quietly. ‘Talk to me, Sirius. Was that - just then, was that what you wanted to tell me?’
Sirius nodded, barely visible in the thin shaft of moonlight from the window, and his voice was almost a whisper as he replied. ‘I promised myself I wouldn’t, that you’d never have to know. But then, after tonight, the thought of you never knowing how I felt -’ He broke off, and Remus rested a trembling hand very lightly on his cheek.
‘Is this real? Is this what you want, really? Because if it’s not, I can’t, I can’t do this. Not if it’s just some sort of reaction to tonight, not if you don’t mean it. I’ll be here for you, and I won’t leave you, but I can’t - Sirius, do you mean it?’
Sirius simply nodded silently.
‘How long?’ There was the barest hint of a tremor in Remus’ voice.
‘Since last year, I think. That’s when I realised, anyway. Maybe before. I’m sorry, Remus.’
Remus smiled into the darkness, a sudden rush of love and exhilaration flaring in his chest. ‘So you bloody should be. I’ve known since fifth year. Seems like longer, but I suppose that's when I really understood what I was feeling.'
A stunned silence. ‘What?’
‘I love you too, Padfoot. Of course I do. Always have. Now, come here and do that again.’
There was no hesitation between them now; only the heat of mingled breath and lips finding lips in the blackness, fingers tangled in hair and grasping at clothing and skin, the gasping release of long-smothered words, until at last they lay breathless in each other’s arms, warmth and wordless love flowing silently between them. Remus held Sirius close for long minutes, smiling as his eyelids fluttered closed and his breathing slowed, until he opened his eyes with an obvious effort, his voice slurred with sleep.
‘I’m sorry, Remus. I can’t stay awake. There’s so much I want to say to you, so much I want to do, but I’m just exhausted.’
Remus kissed his hair softly. ‘It’s okay, love. Sleep now. We have plenty of time, there’s no rush for any of this.’
Sirius answered with a smile, resting his head against Remus’ chest as he closed his eyes. Remus held him close, running his fingers lightly over his hair as he drifted into sleep, whispering softly into the night air.
‘All the time in the world.’
Title: Falling
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Descriptions of blood and violent death
Summary: When a mission goes wrong, there is only one person that Sirius wants to go to.
‘Lumos.’
Remus’ voice was husky with sleep as he sat up, blinking in the light from his wand and pushing back his blankets into a tangled heap. He reached for his alarm clock, brushing his tousled hair back from his eyes as he checked the time.
Four o’clock in the morning. Something must have woken him; he had been so tired last night that he had barely had time to clean his teeth and undress before collapsing into bed and falling into an exhausted sleep. There was no way he would have woken naturally before -
There it was again. A knock, soft but unmistakeable, hollow-sounding against the old wooden door of his tiny flat. Suddenly completely awake, Remus swung himself out of bed, dragging on a faded pair of jeans and a soft cotton jumper as he padded barefoot through his sitting room to the door. His wand was a smooth, comforting weight in his hand as he stood against the wall for a few moments, listening intently, his heart hammering in his chest. He had learned to be cautious in the months since leaving school, they all had; opening the door to an unknown visitor in the middle of the night was not something to be done lightly.
'Who's there?'
'It's me. It's Padfoot,' came the soft reply.
Very cautiously, he opened the door a crack, wand raised in readiness to defend himself. The figure on the doorstep turned to look at him, and Remus let out a breath of relief, letting the door swing open.
‘Sirius? What are you doing here?’
‘I’m sorry, Remus. I know it’s late - I just - I just didn’t know where to come -’ His voice had an odd, uneasy tone, and Remus reached out instinctively, pulling him inside with a gentle hand on his arm.
‘Hey, it’s okay. Come in, it’s freezing out there.’ Remus shut the door with a firm click, a warm glow illuminating the tiny room as he waved his wand at the lamp in the corner. Turning to look at his friend, he began to speak, and then broke off as Sirius shrugged off his leather jacket, revealing a grey shirt underneath, almost black across the front, glistening dark and wet in the lamplight. Tentatively, Remus touched his fingertips to Sirius’ chest, his eyes widening with horror as they came away red and sticky with blood.
‘Gods, Padfoot!’
‘It’s okay. It’s not mine. At least, most of it isn’t, I think.’ Sirius was suddenly ashen-pale, beginning to shake as he looked down at the blood that soaked his chest. Remus put an arm firmly around his shoulder, steering him towards the old, threadbare sofa and pulling him down close beside him as he turned to face him, his fingers fumbling clumsily in his haste to unbutton Sirius’ shirt. He half expected Sirius to make some suggestive comment, to breathe that dark smoky laugh of his and ask why Remus was in such a hurry to undress him, but when he looked into the grey eyes he saw only exhaustion and a distant, guarded pain.
A flick of his wand and a muttered Accio brought a large plastic basin, cloth and towel sailing into his lap, and the bowl filled with warm steaming water at his hurried ‘Aguamenti tepidus’. He dipped the cloth into the basin and wrung it out, and then began to wipe the blood from Sirius’ chest with careful, gentle strokes, thin trickles of red-tinted water running down over the creamy skin of his stomach and soaking into the waistband of his jeans. When he had finished, the water in the basin was crimson, but he found only a few scratches and shallow grazes on Sirius’ chest as he rubbed the soft towel gently over his damp skin.
‘You’re shivering.’ Remus’ voice was soft. ‘Let me get you something to wear. I’ll be back in a minute.’ He scooped up the towels and basin as he stood, bundling Sirius’ shirt up with the bloodstained cloth and carrying it into his bathroom, throwing the water down the sink and the red-streaked bundle into the laundry basket. He could deal with it later; for now, there were more important things to worry about. Grabbing a soft cotton shirt in deep Gryffindor red from the wardrobe in his bedroom, he strode back across to the sofa where Sirius was still huddled, pale and quiet, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. Remus rested a hand lightly on his shoulder, Sirius’ skin cold under his hand.
‘Here, put this on.’ Remus dropped the shirt in Sirius’ lap, giving his shoulder a brief squeeze before walking over to the kitchen. ‘I’ll be right back.’
Reaching up to the small cupboard on the kitchen wall, he pulled out an almost full bottle of firewhiskey and two chipped blue mugs, turned back and then stopped in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe, his breath catching in his throat. Sirius was curled like a child at the end of the sofa, his dark hair falling around his pale face, suddenly beautiful with a strange, unfamiliar fragility. Remus couldn’t remember, now, a time before he had loved Sirius; it had become a part of his life, as essential and unspoken as the tides of the moon in his blood. Still, eight years of hiding his emotion behind smiles and books and friendship had taught him how to handle moments like this. Just breathe, and move through it.
He crossed the room in two easy strides, dropped down on the sofa beside Sirius, just close enough that their arms almost touched, and splashed a generous measure of firewhiskey into each mug. He turned with a half-smile and pushed one of the mugs into Sirius’ hands, and then waited as he took a deep gulp of the whiskey. At last, Sirius turned and looked at him, and Remus let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.
‘So.’
Sirius breathed out, a long, shaky exhalation. ‘So. I suppose I should explain why I turned up on your doorstep in the middle of the night and dripped blood all over your carpet.’
‘I was wondering.’ Remus gave him a half-smile. ‘Order business?’
‘Mm-hm.’ Sirius inclined his head in a brief nod. ‘Messy.’
‘I gathered.’
Sirius lapsed into silence again, and Remus sat quietly beside him, sipping at his whiskey, giving him time to collect his thoughts. There was no need for an explanation, really, and Sirius seemed disinclined to talk, but the two of them had always been comfortable with silence; stretched out on the grass in the Hogwarts grounds, curled in armchairs in the common room, in the pub over a companionable pint. He let the minutes tick by, listening to the rain on the window and Sirius’ quiet breathing beside him, until at last Sirius spoke quietly.
‘Remember that time at school, when we Transfigured all the Slytherins’ quills into snakes in the middle of Arithmancy?’
Remus looked at him in surprise. ‘Of course. One went and hid in the rafters and wouldn’t come down for a week. Fifty points we lost, wasn’t it?’
‘Worth it.’ Sirius’ mouth quirked in something like amusement. There was silence for a moment as he took another sip of whiskey, and then he spoke again, a strange, unfamiliar hollowness in his voice. ‘We thought we were invincible, didn’t we?’
‘We were children.’ Remus rested his hand very lightly over Sirius’.
‘Mm.’ A long, heavy silence. ‘Remus, can I stay with you tonight?’
‘Of course you can. There’s not much of the night left anyway.’
‘I mean, can I stay with you? In your bed, I mean. I don’t - I don’t want to be alone tonight.’
Remus took a deep breath, and forced a casual smile. ‘Come on, then. Your feet had better not be cold.’
Sirius’ answering smile was shaky but genuine, and his hand was warm in Remus’ as he pulled him to his feet.
***
Remus stood in the tiny bathroom, staring at himself in the small, cracked mirror, holding tightly to the edge of the sink as he tried to calm his racing heart with long, deep breaths. The eyes that looked back at him from the mirror were dark and full of nervous anticipation, and there was a hint of heightened colour in his cheeks. Impatient with himself, he ran a hand through his hair, letting tousled coppery strands fall over his eyes.
‘Get a grip, Remus,’ he muttered under his breath. How difficult could this be? He was just offering much-needed comfort to a friend. It was only Padfoot.
Only Padfoot, with his laugh like honey and smoke and his smile like the sunrise after a full moon night; his vanilla-cream skin and eyes of twilight grey, eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets and promises behind dark lashes -
Remus groaned softly. It was going to be a long night.
***
Sirius was warm and quiet beside him, very still in the darkness, his breathing shallow and steady. Remus was alive with the awareness of him, bodies almost touching beneath the sheets, the faint scent of cedar and citrus that was all Sirius just at the edge of his consciousness. The minutes ticked by in silence, and Remus closed his eyes, breathing deeply, letting himself drift at the edge of dreams, until Sirius’ voice, soft and low in the darkness, brought him back to a sudden, sharp wakefulness.
‘We were in Regent’s Park, just at the edge of Primrose Hill, staking out a Death Eater meeting. We’d had a tip-off that they’d be there; you know they’ve been meeting all over London for weeks.’
Remus said nothing, understanding Sirius’ need for darkness and silence. He reached out, finding Sirius’ hand beneath the covers, and felt his fingers curl tightly around his own.
‘We weren’t supposed to interfere at all, just watch and listen and report back. Frank was with me; it was just us, it was supposed to be an easy mission.’ He let out a small, shaky breath, not quite a laugh. ‘Well, it didn’t really turn out that way.’ He was silent for a few heartbeats before continuing in a low, soft voice.
‘There were four of them there; I couldn’t see who, they all had hoods over their faces. They were planning something big, I think, they were really edgy. They were just starting to talk about it when a Muggle woman came up the path; gods know what she was doing out at that time, she might have been a prostitute or something, I don’t know. She just seemed to appear from nowhere, out of the trees, and the Death Eaters panicked. There were spells everywhere, I didn’t even recognise some of them, and everyone scattered and Frank chased them and I went to follow him but - ’ He broke off for a moment, holding tightly to Remus’ hand as he continued. ‘The woman was lying there on the ground, she was so still, and there was all this blood. I knelt beside her, and she looked up at me and, oh gods, Remus, her chest, I could see - I can’t even tell you. I put my arms around her, and she just, she just -’ His breath hitched, and Remus realised abruptly that he was crying, tears trickling over his temples into his hair as he lay looking up into the darkness. ‘She just held on to me, and she said, she said ‘I’m dying, aren’t I?’ and I couldn’t answer her. She asked me to talk to her, and I did; I don’t know what I said, but I stayed with her and I was still talking when Frank got back, and she was dead. She was dead, Remus.’
Remus rolled onto his side, facing Sirius, and reached over to brush the damp strands of hair away from his face. As though his touch had broken down some final, unseen wall, Sirius buried his face in Remus’ neck with a stifled sob, his hands clutched tightly in his thin shirt. Remus held him close, running gentle fingers through his hair, whispering soft reassurances into the darkness as Sirius’ tears soaked through his shirt onto his chest. At last, Sirius looked up at him, eyes wide and frightened, and spoke in broken tones.
‘Don’t leave me, Moony. I can’t lose you. I can’t.’
‘Hey.’ Remus stroked his cheek very lightly with the tips of his fingers. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
‘People are so fragile. They die just like that.’ Sirius’ voice shook as he continued. ‘If you died, and I hadn’t told you - ’ He broke off, his expression utterly vulnerable as he looked up at Remus.
‘Hadn’t told me what?’ Remus was suddenly breathless; his heartbeat very loud in his own ears, and Sirius reached up, tangled his fingers in Remus’ tawny hair, and kissed him.
It was everything and nothing like he had imagined. He knew the contours of Sirius’ body almost as well as he knew his own, and years of guilty dreams had taught him the shape of shoulders and arms and neck under his hands. But nothing could have prepared him for the warm pressure of Sirius’ mouth on his, or the rush of heat that flooded over him as slender fingers traced their way up his spine. He tasted of whiskey and salt, a faint scent of wood and spice and the night sky clinging to his hair, and Remus gasped, pressing his hand against Sirius’ back, curling his fingers around the nape of his neck.
With a sudden, convulsive movement, Sirius pulled away, his breath hot and rapid against Remus’ neck. ‘I’m sorry, Moony. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have - I’ll go, you don’t have to say anything, I’ll just -’
‘Shh.’ Remus laid shaking fingertips over Sirius’ lips. ‘You don’t have to go anywhere. You don’t - I don’t want you to go.’ He stopped, letting out a shuddering breath, before continuing very quietly. ‘Talk to me, Sirius. Was that - just then, was that what you wanted to tell me?’
Sirius nodded, barely visible in the thin shaft of moonlight from the window, and his voice was almost a whisper as he replied. ‘I promised myself I wouldn’t, that you’d never have to know. But then, after tonight, the thought of you never knowing how I felt -’ He broke off, and Remus rested a trembling hand very lightly on his cheek.
‘Is this real? Is this what you want, really? Because if it’s not, I can’t, I can’t do this. Not if it’s just some sort of reaction to tonight, not if you don’t mean it. I’ll be here for you, and I won’t leave you, but I can’t - Sirius, do you mean it?’
Sirius simply nodded silently.
‘How long?’ There was the barest hint of a tremor in Remus’ voice.
‘Since last year, I think. That’s when I realised, anyway. Maybe before. I’m sorry, Remus.’
Remus smiled into the darkness, a sudden rush of love and exhilaration flaring in his chest. ‘So you bloody should be. I’ve known since fifth year. Seems like longer, but I suppose that's when I really understood what I was feeling.'
A stunned silence. ‘What?’
‘I love you too, Padfoot. Of course I do. Always have. Now, come here and do that again.’
There was no hesitation between them now; only the heat of mingled breath and lips finding lips in the blackness, fingers tangled in hair and grasping at clothing and skin, the gasping release of long-smothered words, until at last they lay breathless in each other’s arms, warmth and wordless love flowing silently between them. Remus held Sirius close for long minutes, smiling as his eyelids fluttered closed and his breathing slowed, until he opened his eyes with an obvious effort, his voice slurred with sleep.
‘I’m sorry, Remus. I can’t stay awake. There’s so much I want to say to you, so much I want to do, but I’m just exhausted.’
Remus kissed his hair softly. ‘It’s okay, love. Sleep now. We have plenty of time, there’s no rush for any of this.’
Sirius answered with a smile, resting his head against Remus’ chest as he closed his eyes. Remus held him close, running his fingers lightly over his hair as he drifted into sleep, whispering softly into the night air.
‘All the time in the world.’