teka

I've been blossoming alone over you

The first time Remus says ‘I love you’ he doesn’t mean it. Sirius knows he doesn’t mean it because he’s half-asleep, fresh off the back of a full moon and obviously a little dopey from the pain potions. 

Sirius sits on the hospital bed next to him, recounting the day's events that Remus missed, Remus absentmindedly playing with Sirius’ hands while he talks—tracing random patterns on his skin with sluggish fingers. 

The hand-holding is new. It may be Sirius’ favourite thing about the recent development in their friendship. Or maybe it’s the kissing. Or the cuddling. It’s all his favourite. 

“You doing okay there, moonbeam?” (The pet names are also new and a contender for favourite thing.)

Remus’ eyes flicker up, lagging a moment behind with a hazy, lopsided smile. “M’okay.”

“You seem a little tired.”

Remus scrunches his face, gives an exaggerated shrug. Whatever Pomfrey pumped him up on has sent him halfway to Twinkle Town and it would be hilarious if he wasn’t so damn cute.

Sirius kicks off his shoes, swings his legs up onto the bed and Remus responds immediately. Despite all his gangly long limbs, Remus sleeps like a limpet. Curls into Sirius’ side and clings steadfast to him.

It comes as a muffled, half-asleep whisper as Remus drifts off. So quiet that Sirius isn’t sure he heard it properly.

‘I love you.’

And it's still early days, too early into their relationship to know for sure. (Except Sirius is sure, has been sure for ages.) And it is clearly some half-conscious ramblings that don’t mean anything and that Remus won’t remember.

Papa Moony doodles