Where Gryffindor Common Room
When Weekday, near midnight
Sirius sat in the deep brown leather chair, one leg twisted up on the arm, the other flat on the floor in front of him. He was reading the latest issue of some muggle music magazine he had found in their dorm - NSE, NME something or other - but the words never really made it from the page and into his brain. Sighing loudly, he shifted in the chair and flipped a page, eyes scanning it before looking around the empty common room and grate that was ready to burn out.
Remus closed his arithmancy book with a snap, still frustrated with problem number 4. He had scoured the entire chapter, and was still at a loss between the number sixty-four and it's connection with healing charms. Yawning loudly, he massaged the area around his tired eyes- glazed over from lack of sleep. Over the past two days he had had trouble falling asleep before 2am, his mind frantic with worry and unanswered questions. Glancing across the room at Sirius, who seemed to need a good night's rest as much as he did, Remus stood up and walked over to him. Placing his hands on the boy's shoulders and massaging the tense muscles, he bent down slightly to kiss his forehead. "Come to bed, Sirius, it's late." he murmured, working his thumbs against the tan skin of his boyfriend’s neck.
Sirius closed his eyes, head automatically tilting up to the already familiar touch. “Not tired,” he murmured sleepily, magazine folding closed on his lap as his fingers came up to work lazily though Remus’ hair. “Not yet.” He didn’t want to go to sleep, because he knew he wouldn’t get to sleep. He’d lie stiff-still awake for at least another hour or two, thoughts about bloody Bellatrix, of all the rotten people on the earth, too busy invading his mind.
"You're a terrible liar." Remus said with a tired smile, sitting himself on the arm Sirius' leg wasn't occupying. "Want me to wait up with you?" he asked, leaning against the back of the chair, taking his friend's arm and tracing a light path through the sparse hairs lazily.
Squinting up at Remus, Sirius smiled and ‘hmmm’ed at the touch on his arm. “If you like. Dunno how long I’ll be here for, though,” he said, more seriously, opening his eyes and staring ahead at the fire. His usual, carefree demeanour was shadowed by something a lot darker - brooding, his friends liked to call it. Sirius only really brooded when thoughts involved Regulus, Mother or any other member of his family.
Remus frowned, the faint lines of worry etching themselves into his forehead, noticing the distant look in Sirius' eyes as he stared into the dying embers. Snaking his fingers between the gaps in the other boy's own, he turned his gaze from the sooty mantle to look at shadowed eyes and taut lips. "Need to talk about it?" he asked bluntly.
“I… ‘sjust family stuff,” Sirius said, tearing his gaze away from the fire to look back at Remus. “As usual,” he grunted, breath coming out like a snort. “Bellatrix stringing along other people to ‘her’ side. And Andy… all because she went to the dance with a muggle-born.” He shook his head, speaking the words to himself, really. Babbling.
Remus nodded, his suspicions confirmed. Nothing could pain Sirius like his family, who knew how to hurt him more than anyone. It really wasn't fair, but then was life ever? He knew Sirius should ignore them, but that was impossible. Although he had 'left', he was too stubborn, and cared to much (although he would never admit that) to leave his family all together. So, Remus said nothing.
“But I suppose it’s nothing to cry over.” Sirius kept his tone light, crossing his arms and sitting back in the chair, even as a dark scowl remained on his face. “It’s not like I’m going to try and do something like that idiot Rosier,” he refrained from keeping Evan’s name sounding vitriolic - Remus didn’t know how, and more importantly - why, Sirius hated him so much. So, he just stuck to his usual tactics. “Bloody Slytherins.”
Remus froze, his hand stiffening in Sirius'. His eyes, suddenly awake and vibrant turned cold, blue ice piercing into the boy's skull. "Shut up." he hissed, his voice dangerously low. Evan had nearly died, and Sirius - of all people, was going to use someone's suffering for his own amusement, sneering down at him.
Sirius pulled his hand free and twisted up to look at Remus, the same scowl on his face deepening. “What?” he barked, confused. “What the hell do you mean, ‘shut up’? Rosier was a fucking idiot, is a fucking idiot - a psychotic one, at that - since when was it right for you to start sticking up for him? For any of them?” In all the time that he and James had tormented the Slytherins, Remus had never said a word. Though, he always managed to make Sirius feel vaguely ashamed afterwards. But he didn’t feel ashamed now. Rosier was fucking his little brother, for Merlin’s sake… not to mention the fact he was certainly two sandwiches short of a picnic. And everyone knew it.
"I mean shut up." Remus repeated, eyes never leaving the other boy, his words coming out slow and pronounced, deadly serious. "As far as sticking up for him, I should have started a long time ago. I swear to God, Sirius, don't you dare say another word about Evan."
“Evan, is it?” Sirius spluttered, standing up and looking down at Remus. His expression contorted from one of surprise, to confusion - all the while his dark frown stayed in place. “Since when was he Evan to you? Have I missed something? Remus… what the hell?”
Remus frowned, what was Sirius going off about now. "Am I not allowed to have other friends?" he asked, with bitter confusion, knowing what Sirius was really asking and wanting to yell at him for being so ridiculous. "I'm not under your control and yes, we're friends. He's brilliant, and he understands me." he said in exasperation, defiant and strong.
“He fucks my brother,” Sirius said darkly, his voice no louder than a shallow whisper. Sirius could run off a million other reasons in his head - most were trivial, others he didn’t want Remus to know. But as far as he was concerned, Rosier was dirt, and did not deserve Remus’ company. “You’re too nice for him.”
Remus raised his eyes slightly, and?. "What he does with your brother is none of my business." he stated, words rigid and immobile. "I'm not," he answered, eyes darkening with bitter irony. "he needs someone who cares about him, especially now, and I do."
Sirius narrowed his eyes. He just couldn’t get how Remus could… care for Evan… it was wrong, in every sense. Hell, it didn’t make any sense. “That’s fucked up,” he said, not for the first time that week, rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand, closing his eyes and wanting to cry with frustration.
"No," Remus insisted, "but leaving him would be."
Was there anything Sirius could really do about it? No. Remus may be quiet, but the boy was stubborn. “Fucking hell,” was all Sirius managed as he slumped back into the chair, resting his elbows on his knees, his face immediately covered by his hands.
Remus' shoulders visibly relaxed, a shadow of a smile appearing on his face. Sirius, although frustrated by the situation, had at least accepted it. After all, he had to, there was no ultimatum. "I like him, Sirius." he said softly, looking into the fire- more smoke than flame. "But, I love you."
Sirius closed his eyes at that - almost painfully, hidden by his hands. If Remus was comparing them like that, then Remus obviously liked the boy in more ways in which he had hoped. Was it Rosier’s main mission in life to steal everyone away from him? “How did it happen?” he asked after a while, voice strained.
Remus sighed, Sirius was talking about this as though he was going to leave- desert him. "I don't know, really." he said quietly, almost helplessly. "I saw him one day by the lake." Remus said after a second, remembering how mesmerizing the dark haired boy was that day. Everyday. "He looked like he needed someone to talk to. So I listened. "
Sirius sighed heavily. Why did Remus have to be such a bloody good Samaritan all the time? “You like him,” he said flatly, “Are you attracted to him?” His face left his palms, which immediately curled into loose fists that he tucked under his arms, leaning back against the chair to stare up at Remus.
Remus sighed, turning his eyes so he didn't need to meet that gaze. He knew that even by not saying anything, he was answering Sirius' question. Silence can speak sentences when asked to. "It's different." he whispered, running a tired hand through his hair. "He's different."
Yes, then, Sirius thought, closing his eyes. “Have you done anything with him?” he asked, very quietly.
Remus shook his head, "No." Well, it was half true. "I don't need him for that." Only you, Sirius. Always you.
Of all the things that had been worrying Sirius over these past two weeks, this new revelation had to be the worst. Opening his eyes, watery with tiredness amongst other things, Sirius stood up slowly, his head hanging slightly as he began to make his way up the stairs to the dorm in silence.
Remus sat there for a moment, staring at a crack in the leather before standing up. "Sirius." he said slowly, his voice clear in the empty room. Halfway up the stairs, he reached out and grabbed the boy's arm, eyes pleading. "Please." he said softly, wanting to kiss him, but holding back and fearing he would be pushed away.
Sirius’ hand automatically gripped hold of Remus’ wrist where he held him, sliding down and entwining their fingers. His gaze never left their hands, hair hanging in his face which held a mixed expression of hurt, cautiousness and part betrayal. After all, he had betrayed Remus behind his back - he hardly had the right to show any hurt at all.
Remus sighed, slightly relieved and mostly worried. Running his thumb over Sirius' weathered skin, he moved up a step, levelling their bodies. Brushing dark hair out of grey eyes, he leaned forward and kissed the other boy lightly on his lips. "I'm sorry." he whispered.
Leaning into the other boy’s touch, Sirius closed his eyes and kissed Remus again, making sure those lips were his - they always would be. No matter what. “Let’s go to bed,” he sighed, head nodding in the direction of the dorms.