Hello, everyone!

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please check out the complete set of tags on AO3 before you read any of the works.

Week 1

waves, by captainegg:  Hell breaks loose at 12 Grimmauld Place and an injured Sirius Black seeks refuge at the Potters. Rated E . 6.6k

Shape and Colour, by sallyapostrophes:  He looked hard into her eyes, the same precise shape and colour as Sirius’s had been, and that stormy grey was all Remus had left of him. Rated E . 4.0k

Half a Man, by bluefay:  When drinking no longer solves Sirius’ problems, he decides that turning into Padfoot is his only solution. Rated T . 1.8k

My Empire of Dirt, by FivePips:  When Sirius gets a grave prognosis, Lily suggests that he makes a bucket list. Rated M . 15.8k

Bruises, by mean_whale:  Remus discovers that Sirius has been keeping secrets from his friends. Rated T . 7.5k

Death of Me, by nagemeikenu:  After Dumbledore’s funeral, Remus is feeling like the war is already lost. Content warnings for the following: suicidal ideation, suicide note, grief, Depression Rated T 2.5k

Curious, by Avese23:  Sirius finds out Remus has been cheating on him while a Hayley Kiyoko song plays in the background. Rated T . Art

Inevitable, by darkestlordsaroon:  Stuck in Grimmauld Place, haunted by the past, Remus and Sirius try to pick up the broken pieces of their tumultuous relationship. Rated E . 17.4k

Week 2

Box of Love, by ordinarylittleme:  On the eve of Remus’s marriage with Tonks he reflects on his true love, Sirius. He thinks back to all the good times they had, and how fate doomed them. Rated T . 1.4k

As Though Nothing Could Fall, by jennandblitz:  The forest is full of Death Eaters, and memories. Sirius, who isn’t prone to planning more than his next five minutes, sees one—or maybe both?—and puts both he and Remus in a situation in which it is impossible to keep secrets, too. We could steal time just for one day / We can be heroes for ever and ever / What d'you say? Rated M . 12.7k

Broken Bones, Beating Hearts, by Livelovelupin:  "Sirius is thinking about everything. He’s going over it to see if anything could’ve hinted at what eventually happened. Anything out of the ordinary, any warning sign, anything unusual. He comes up with nothing.Mostly, he’s thinking about how he froze.“ Rated T . 6.1k

From behind the Skeletons, by Chiru:  Sirius feels freer than ever now that he is no longer chained to his family, and he’s ready to finally uncover the mystery of their constantly disappearing classmate. Rated T . 6.9k

Howl, by the_interuniversal_geometer:  During the full moon Sirius can hear Remus howling in the Shrieking Shack from his cave in the Forbidden Forest. Rated T . 1.6k

Things Left Unsaid, by luciferrising_inthetardis:  Remus flies out to visit Sirius at his new job, a job Sirius accepted without informing Remus. As Remus tries to understand Sirius’ decision, and where he fits into Sirius’ new life, tension grows between them until it all comes crashing down. Rated T . 13.3k

Helping Sirius, by OverTheMoon4TheMarauders:  Sirius has always struggled with his self-worth thanks to his family, and has tried his best to seem tough and not show people his weaknesses. When he gets in an abusive relationship at some point, none of his friends know about it until Remus, who has been in love with him forever, finds out. Remus tries, but Sirius won’t let him help. Rated T . 2.6k 

Velvet Gloves and Spit, by taotu:  It’s been a while since Sirius and Remus were last on good terms. James’ grand scheme to mend their friendship sends them on an Order mission together, where at the hands of Death Eaters, they fall prey to a less-than-savoury, old pureblood curse. Rated E . 12.6k

Cry With a Smile, by  SethWren: James and Lily are dead. Voldemort is defeated. This is Remus and Sirius in the first few days after that, trying to process the loss of their friends while raising Harry. Rated T . 2.1k

 The Sound of Betrayal, by Jessipig2:  When Remus and Sirius get caught together, Remus is put under the Imperius curse and forced to hurt Sirius. But whoever does this, doesn’t know about Remus’ lycanthropy and they do it on a full moon. Will Sirius and Remus be okay? Rated T . 10.4k

Week 3

these things i could never describe, by cjmasim:  "Do you know what this meeting is going to be about?” Sirius takes a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly before answering. “I don’t. But I don’t get the impression it’s going to be a fun meeting.” “What is that supposed to mean?” Remus asks, watching as Sirius takes another bite. He takes a bite of his own, anxiety mildly suppressed by Sirius’ honesty. “Well, they’re not going to kick me out of the band,” Sirius says with a slight chuckle. “How would that work, anyway? A band called Sirius and the Hellhounds with no Sirius - what, did the Hellhounds eat me?” He scoffs. Rated T . 6.5k

The Incomplete Recounting of Four Nonconsecutive Tuesdays in the Spring of 2002, by BrujaBanter:  A Few Reasons Remus Suggested They Pursue Couple’s Counseling: 1. Sirius was DEAD (no matter how many times he says he wasn’t, which is a lot), so that’s bloody complicated. 2. They’re a “blended family” now and, well, that’s also bloody complicated. 3. Sirius Black is an utter fucking mess. 4. They can’t just have sex all the time. They can’t. Well, maybe they….no, no. They really can’t. Rated M . 11.1k

The promise, by Slytherin_Sweetheart:  “You have to find Sirius before Peter does. I’m afraid that if you fail, Sirius might do something that he’d regret. Inform him of James and Lily’s passing. He is Harry’s godfather after all, he could have custody, but he has to be able to take care of him. Do hurry. If you’re not back here before dawn. I’ll be forced to take Harry away and you will most likely not see him again.” In which Remus made a promise he couldn’t keep. Rated M . 2.4k

68 Moons, by sturfadurf:  A collection of drabbles (loosely termed lol) documenting the 68 full moons that occur during the school months at Hogwarts. Goes through all of the major plot points and contains slow burn wolfstar. Told in Sirius’ POV. ((Prompt 14: WSHurtFest2020: Remus confessing to the Marauders that he’s a werewolf, fully expecting them to hate him.)) <-I really ran away with this and ended up writing a TOME. But thank you for giving me a reason to delve into the Marauder Years!! Rated T . 19.2k

Letters From The Past, by  Purplechimera:  Teddy finds letters from the First Wizarding War in his father’s attic. Rated T . 2.5k

Time moves in circles (and straight lines are just an invention), by  WanderingBandurria:  Sirius Black disappears from his friends’ lives right after Hogwarts. He’s back seven years later, hiding secrets.Remus should be over him by now - he has built a life for himself, and he has a loving, caring partner.But when it comes to Sirius, it seems that there are things that never change. Maybe there are things you just don’t get over. Rated M . 18.8k

enraged by things unsaid and empty beds and bad behaviour, by blueseasandchestnuts:  In the summer of 1976, Sirius discovers three things. First, soulmates are very much real, not just a hyperbole. Second, he’s lucky enough to have Remus as his soulmate. Third, Remus’s opinion on topics such as fate and predeterminism is not exactly compatible with the concept of soulmates. Rated T . 5.1k

After the fire, by Coriaria:  Sirius and Remus had once been young, and had shared a passion that burned hot and bright, but that was gone now – consumed in the flames of jealousy and suspicion, destroyed by a war that had taken everything from them. So when Dumbledore tells Sirius to “lie low at Lupin’s”, that’s the last place he wants to be. How can he face the man who broke his heart and was too gutless to admit what he’d done? Rated M . 18k

Tangled in My Soul, by MoonlitMarauder & SiriuslyThatBitch :  All Sirius wants is his Alpha to love him, all Remus wants is to give him something better. Rated E . 41.5k

The Residue of His Mind, by PaulaMcG:  With Buckbeak as his companion, Sirius continues to escape. Since all he’s able to remember is painful, he finds it hard to understand what Remus wants from him. Rated T . 2.3k

(( OOC: ... It’s begun. We’re filming for Never Doubt 2.

I know things have been super quiet on this blog lately, there’s been a lot going on in my personal life that has taken up most of my energy and attention. But I’m actually doing really well, probably the best I’ve been for more than a year.

So please know that I’m still here and still making content and still trying to check in and see all the amazing things that are being created when I can. I really appreciate all the friends I have in this community still after almost five years.

This is so exciting! Congratulations on your first tattoo! You’re so generous to offer so much kindness so please know that it’s appreciated more than can be expressed. Also, The Librarian wishes you a great experience and has a list all ready to go for you below.

Wolfstar Tattoo AUs

Neville: huh-whaddid- mmfh?

Neville: What? Why?

Neville: Oh. Yeah I did do that.

88. “After everything... I’d still choose you.” and 98. “Don’t shut me out.”

Aly, you’re staying on brand here! I couldn’t resist doing both of these melded together, enjoy!

——— 

Grimmauld Place has become drearier over the years. Remus remembers visiting only once, when he, James and Peter had snuck off during the summer and Floo’d there to stage some dramatic escape. It had been somewhat dramatic—just a mite less successful than they intended. Sirius did manage to get out, and run away with them, but the Muggle police had caught up to them and of course the two Purebloods were no help at all.

Now though, Remus doesn’t think of those times, because they make a warmth so old and foreign it hurts bloom in his chest. Now, standing here with what little belongings he cares to bring with him in the tattered trunk at his feet, Remus can only think of how painfully alone he has been until now. He can’t let anything else seep in. Shock had been a close companion ever since that meeting in the Shrieking Shack, when Sirius had looked at him in that certain way, cocked his head to one side, those mercury-North Sea eyes conveying everything he didn’t need to say. Shock that Sirius hadn’t been what he didn’t want to believe for years, that his instincts were right, his gut feeling had not betrayed him, and yet he had betrayed it.

Sirius opens the front door of Number Twelve, looking haggard and drawn. When he’d returned from overseas, Remus could almost squint and see the man he knew in 1980, but now, that man has slipped from his grasp again. Grimmauld Place is just as bad as Azkaban in many ways.

“Come in,” Sirius mutters, shoulders stiff beneath robes he must’ve unearthed from somewhere. Are they Orion’s? Black family crest, a shadow of what should have been.

Remus floats his trunk in next to him and sets it awkwardly down in the hallway. Sirius plucks a bottle of Firewhisky from the sideboard and takes a swig. Remus gets the feeling that bottle hasn’t left his side.

Once the shock had dissipated, Remus realises, as if recognising an old friend as he puts his clothes away in the musty dresser of the guest bedroom, in its wake has been apathy. Sirius is back, yes, not the murderer he’d been painted as, but instead the broken shell of his oldest friend. But what now? They couldn’t just pretend it was 1980, as much as Remus would like that, as sure as Sirius would. In 1980 they had been dancing around each other, exploring the meaning of the world queer and the way they seemed to set each other alight, first after a few drinks, a spiked cigarette. Remus remembers every brush of their fingertips, the way Sirius would stare for too long before he glanced away, but neither of them ever took the plunge. Now it was too late. They aren’t the same people now.

There’s a knock at the door, and Sirius lingers in the sliver of it Remus had left ajar. “Hi,” he says, hands in the pockets of his robes.

“Hi Padfoot,” says Remus, nodding as he sits on the end of the bed. 

“You picked the worst room.” Sirius pushes the door open with his foot, looking around the four walls within. There’s a glimpse, again, of the man Remus knew, pointy nose turned up, graceful arch of his top lip sneering just slightly. 

Remus shrugs. Maybe he feels more at home in the worst room here, more akin to his father’s cottage he’s been living in for years.

Something unknown passes over Sirius’ face. “Don’t,” he says darkly, as if Remus might know what he means. Once upon a time, he might’ve.

“Don’t what, Padfoot?” Remus can hear the standoffish tone in his own voice, the faux sweetness that he has to employ to keep himself safe because it hurts.

“Don’t shut me out,” Sirius growls, lifting one hand—nails bloody and bitten to the quick—to push his too-long hair from his eyes. “I can see you doing it. Don’t.”

As if it’s as simple as that. “I’m not, Sirius,” Remus tries.

“You are, I know you. I can tell.”

“You don’t. We’re… we’re different people, Sirius. You don’t know me.” Remus doesn’t mean to say that as sharply as he does. But it’s true. They’re painfully different and Remus has been so, so alone for twelve years. It’s cruel to expect him to pick everything back up, to revive those feelings of oh, Godric, what if he likes me? and stitch them back into the places he’d ripped them out of on November 1st 1981. 

Sirius’ brow furrows. For a minute, Remus thinks he’s going to walk away, because that’s what Sirius of old would have done. It only makes him realise they know nothing of each other, because Sirius leans against the doorframe. Guilt swirls in Remus’ ribcage like a tornado. He didn’t mean to say those things, but he’s hurting. This is the worst trip down memory lane, and yet it has to be done.

Remus is kidding himself if he thinks he can stay away from Sirius Black. He’s the hardest drug, the worst side effects, the hardest to kick, an impossible lure, and yet? So, so good.

“You’re right,” Sirius says, his gaze penetrating. “My mistake.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus says on the next breath. “That was… cruel of me.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Sirius’ jaw muscle jumps, arcs up to his temple like a live wire being grounded. “Why would we be the same people? It’s been twelve years. You’ve moved on. You have a life.” It’s impossible to miss the bitterness in Sirius’ voice. Remus has had twelve years in the real world, whereas Sirius has been locked in a cell, imprisoned for a crime he would never even dream of committing. Remus has had twelve years, but they felt like purgatory. 

“Why would you want… this?” Sirius looks around the room, distain dripping from his ever pore. Remus knows he doesn’t just mean this room in Grimmauld. The thought occurs to Remus that perhaps they can be in purgatory together. Perhaps this can be their time.

Remus sighs. He presses his hands together, then stands up. Sirius doesn’t move, staying by the door, a wary animal afraid of being cornered. “After everything,” Remus says, holding his hand out, palm up, “I’d still choose you.”

sorry for the lateness of this one life sucks and i have no confidence in my writing

-

Sirius and James are in the bathtub in Marlene McKinnon’s house. The bathtub is dry, and James and Sirius are fully clothed, but here they can smoke weed with the crystallised window cracked open and groan every once in a while as if they’re taking turns of taking massive shits and pretend that the foul smell from the weed is, in fact, the smell of said pretend shits.

It seemed like a weird plan half an hour ago, but James had said, it might just be weird enough to work. And now that they’re at the butt end of the joint, taking one puff each before passing it, ready to toss it out of the window, it seems like the best idea James has ever had.

It’s in here, seated in the bathtub with their gangly legs hanging over the edge, that they can escape Mary McDonald running around her friend’s house with a bin liner in hand, hollering about throwing empty cans and bottles in there so she and Marlene doesn’t have to bother with cleaning the house in the morning. It’s in here they can smoke, and Sirius can just take a fucking breather from sweaty bodies and see the silhouette of Remus clinging to Benjy Fenwick’s side as if he’s been superglued to him.

“Fucking… Fenwick,” Sirius murmurs, eyes closed with his head against the cold bathroom tiles. “Benjy… Fuckwick…”

James snorts a laugh so aggressive Sirius thinks it must hurt the roof of his mouth. “Benjy Fuckwick?”

Sirius cracks an eye open and looks at James. He’s got tight, red braids in his hair, tied up in a top knot that looks far too cool for the rest of him; khaki trousers and a Hawaiian shirt with some poker print on it. He’s actually quite hot sometimes, though Sirius will never admit that out loud; he’s going to die on a hill, knowing that he made fun of James and his looks until his dying breath.

“Yeah.” Sirius shuts his eyes again, swallows hard and feels his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Fuckwick. Stealing Remus from me, like some… fuck.”

“Excuse me?” James says with a loud laugh. “Stealing?! Have you actually said more than 4 sentences to Remus this term? Or are we still at the pining stage?”

Sirius is quiet for a while, then turns to James. “And where are you with Evans?”

James huffs, then says, “I’ll have you know that we have gotten to under shirt business.”

“Sounds absolutely revolting. I pity Evans for having to feel up on your ribcage and erect nips.”

The words erect nips sits weird on Sirius’ tongue, and it takes about half a second for him to burst out laughing after he’s said it. James stares at him for a few seconds, then bursts out laughing himself.

Laughing when he’s high might be the worst feeling in the world, if Sirius is honest. It sticks in his chest and if he opens his mouth he might scream or vomit, so he laughs with his mouth closed, letting out weird puffs of air, shoulders shaking. James, however, absolutely hollers with laughter, banging his fist against the bathtub.

“OI!” there’s a bang on the door. “Get the fuck out of there you shits! Some people need to take a fucking piss!”

The banging continues, fists rapping against the bathroom door so hard it rattles in its frame.

“Alright, alright!” Sirius shouts. “Hold your fuckin’ horses.”

He clambers out of the bathtub first, boots smacking against more tiles. Briefly, he pities Marlene and Mary for the cleaning spree they’ll have to go on in the morning, but then James is up on his feet and opens the bathroom door, and Sirius suddenly doesn’t care.

Dorcas Meadowes stands there, eyes like fucking thunder and shoulders squared. She sniffs the air, stares into Sirius’ eyes, and huffs.

“Couldn’t you fucking stoners just gone into the garden like everyone else?”

“Everyone else?” James echoes. He looks stupid. Sirius makes a mental note of telling him that once Meadowes leaves.

“Christ,” she murmurs. “You’re not the only ones who smoke weed in our grade.”

“But we’re the only one with standards on our grass, Meadowes,” Sirius says. “Now. We best be off so you can take your fucking piss, eh? See you darling.”

He hooks his arm around James’ shoulders and trudges off, ignoring the way Meadowes scoffs again after them. And right there, smack in the middle of the sitting room, Remus stands, laughing at something with a red solo cup in hand—it’s extraordinarily cliche, and it feels like it’s only something you see on American high school dramas, but there Remus stands.

Benjy Fuckwick has his arm around his waist, and Sirius wants to gag. He doesn’t.

Instead he drops his arm from James’ shoulders and holds his hand out for him instead.

“Quick,” Sirius says, “hold my hand so he gets jealous.”

“He’s not even looking your way,” James says.

“Hold my fucking hand Jimmy.”

“Jesus, hakuna your tatas,” James murmurs, but grabs Sirius’ hand anyway.

It’s dry and warm and feels like a fucking frying pan in Sirius’ slender hand. Sirius looks at James, then at Remus, and starts howling with laughter to grab his attention.

And it works. Remus looks at him, eyebrows furrowed, and Sirius would smirk if he wasn’t busy laughing at absolutely nothing. He leans against James, leaning his head against his shoulder and tries to look in love and sappy and stupid like Remus does around Benjy. Fucking Benjy Fuckwick, and his stupid perfect blond hair and straight teeth and straight nose.

Remus keeps his eyes on Sirius, and Sirius stares back, smiling before he presses a dry kiss to James’ neck.

“Ew, what the fuck was that for?” James says. Sirius thinks he’s glaring but he can’t see, he’s too busy staring at Remus, getting his attention and—

41. “You’re going out dressed like that?”

This one got a touch out of hand 😂 Sirius in a big mess of feelings is truly my favourite. Thank you for the prompt Len, enjoy!

——— 

It’s round about now, Sirius realises, that he needs to fully face the truly, horrifically shit situation he’s ended up in. It’s not the fact he has a paper on the impact of Frida Kahlo on modern feminism due on Monday that he’s written one whole paragraph for, or the fact he hasn’t done laundry in a few weeks and is down to one shirt and possibly two pairs of underwear, or the fact the cigarette he’s trying to roll is going abysmally and his jeans are covered in tobacco dust.

It’s the fact that Remus Lupin is going on a date.

Remus Lupin is going on a date and it’s not with him.

It’s Saturday night, and he and Peter are staying in to do work, when James is off probably doing something Sirius doesn’t want to think about with Lily, and Remus is going on a date with someone from his Lit class.

Surrounded by a moat of books and notes, Sirius’ laptop is forgotten to the side as he rolls a cigarette with shaky fingers—finally manages to get it to tuck under properly, Jesus—and listens to Remus singing along somewhat loudly to The Jam in his room. Any minute now, Sirius knows he’s going to walk out of his room, looking so stupidly, ridiculously attractive that Sirius will probably let his smoke fall out of his mouth and burn a hole in his jeans… again. Grumbling to himself and pushing aside a notebook to grab his lighter, he sparks up and takes a long drag.

If there’s one thing Sirius does well, it’s talk himself in circles. He’s so thoroughly convinced, and has been since that second term of first year, when he and James had moved from halls into a shared flat with Remus and Peter, that Remus is uninterested in him. He’s not even sure Remus is queer, though he does have a bisexual pin on one of his beanies, and they did all go to Pride that past summer before they went home, but what if he’s just a damn enthusiastic ally? Or even worse, truthfully, what if he is queer, but it’s Sirius that’s the problem?

Right on cue, the music in Remus’ room shuts off, and a moment later he appears in the doorway that Sirius studiously tries to ignore but fails miserably at. Shit, and he looks unreal. Remus is usually in oversized sweaters and jeans too long that bunch up around his ankles atop his brogues. The beanies and the wallet chain are usually the only real thing that gives away the complete punk riot that appears when he’s three beers deep into a night out. Tonight though, a night out Sirius supposes, but not with him, Remus is in skinny jeans so tight that Sirius has to not stare pointedly at the curve of his arse, and a Distillers shirt that hangs loose and exposes the pointed tip of one collarbone around the neckline, a studded belt visible beneath the ragged hem. When Sirius drags his gaze up, Remus’ hair, sandy blonde with the remnants of teal dye clinging to the tips, is all mussed and in his eyes, and those eyes are ringed in smudged black, and Sirius can’t breathe. 

“Alright Sirius?” Remus asks, his footsteps resonating over the hardwood floor in those studded creepers Sirius would steal if Remus’ feet weren’t woefully smaller than his.

Sirius realises at once that it’s absolutely happened again, and his cigarette burns his fingers, then leaves a smudge of ash and ember on his jeans as he snatches it up and curses his inability to keep it together around Remus fucking Lupin when he looks like that. Sirius wants to push his paper aside, stand up, grab Remus around the waist and throw him against the wall. He wants to grab the front of that shirt and haul Remus in to mark his mouth with kisses, wants to tell him to stay here, fuck the gig, stay here and let me make you scream. He wants it so bad he sees it when he blinks just before answering.

“Yeah, Jesus, sorry—distracted by the idea we might be back in 2005 with that emo fringe. You’re going out dressed like that?” Sirius quips, tugging his laptop back into his lap to hide the fact every millilitre of blood in his body is rushing south.

Remus snorts a laugh and flips him off. “Please, as if you haven’t walked out of a Led Zeppelin biopic at any moment.” 

Sirius rolls his eyes, but he can’t retort; one because it’s true, and two because Jesus fuck, Remus walks towards the door and his arse could launch a thousand ships.

“Want any merch from the gig?” Remus asks, pulling Sirius from an extended metaphor about Helen of Troy or Adonis or Pygmalion.

“Nah,” Sirius hums, shaking his head as he relights his cigarette and tries to steer his mind towards something truly vile so he can concentrate on anything but kissing the living daylights out of Remus. “Have fun with… who is it?”

“Iain.” Remus shrugs on his bomber jacket, a flash of something alighting over his face that Sirius doesn’t recognise. Well, he’s queer then, huh? So it’s Sirius that’s the problem. “From my lit class.”

“Oh yeah. Have fun with Iain.” Sirius tries to keep the disdain out of his voice, really, he does.

Remus chuckles lowly as he pulls open the door to the flat. “Bye Pete!” He calls, and after a shout from Pete’s bedroom, glances through that teal-tinged hair and says, softly, “Bye Sirius.”

With a groan, Sirius pushes himself from the sofa to go and make coffee, and resolutely not think about Remus and Iain at the gig, all pressed close and sweaty, dancing together…

It fails miserably, of course, but thankfully Sirius is passionate about the subject of his paper, so he loses a good few hours in there. Feverish motivation tends to descend on Sirius rather often, and so when the door opens again, he jerks his gaze up and realises it’s dark but for the light of his laptop screen, and it’s late. Pete is snoring softly from his room. Remus is silhouetted in the doorway by the stairwell light. Sirius shifts and pushes his hair back from his face with one hand.

“Alright Remus,” he says, his voice hoarse from an evening of disuse, too many cigarettes and endless coffee.

For a horrid moment, Sirius thinks Remus has brought Iain the Date back with him, but he’s alone and lets the door swing shut behind him. “You’re up late.”

“Hanging out with my best mate Frida, of course,” Sirius drawls, gesturing to his laptop. Remus looks even better now, his eyeliner smudged, a rip in the knee of his jeans. Sirius wants to drag him to bed, to hell with it all. In a fit of impulsivity, he pushes his laptop aside and sits forward.

“Right. I got you a patch, for your jacket, by the way,” Remus tells him as he toes his shoes off by the door and pads over. He looks so earnest in the blue light of Sirius’ laptop, as if this nowhere between time and space exists only for them.

“Thanks Rem.” Sirius tries not to think on whether Remus told Iain the Date he’s buying a patch for his friend, and whether that’s kind of weird. “Have a good date?” He can’t resist asking, as if he likes twisting the knife deeper, or maybe he’s hoping it was an awful date.

“Date?” Remus laughs as he moves one of Sirius’ notebooks aside to sit on the other end of the sofa. “If it was a date neither of us knew that.”

Sirius’ brow furrows. “It wasn’t a date?”

“Why would it be a date?” Remus’ voice is painfully soft now, his eyes wide as he stares at Sirius.

“Because…” Sirius licks his lips. His fingers itch with the urge to bury them in Remus’ hair.

“Because the lad I fancy is a moron,” Remus murmurs, not looking away from Sirius, on the edge of a moment. “A complete moron who I’d quite like to kiss me right now.”

Sirius shoves away the rest of his notebooks with a little scuff of a laugh. “Come here,” he tells Remus, reaching for his wrist and tugging him closer. Remus obliges, shuffling closer, avoiding Sirius’ tobacco and a handful of highlighter pens until Sirius just gives in and hauls the man into his lap. “A complete moron, huh?” He says, as he leans in and kisses Remus like he’s been thinking of all night. Remus hums a little affirmative into the kiss, and it tastes so sweet.

Bonus: