May

Nick: Well, her dog died

Nick’s mum:

Sirius: Your skin is pale white and covered in scars

Sirius: Your eyes change color

Sirius: You disappear every full moon

Sirius: I know what you are

Remus: Say it out loud

Remus: Say it

Sirius: Werewolf

Remus: Are you afraid

Sirius: No

Remus: C’mere

*Remus and Sirius kissing*

For @goodboylupin’s Candy Hearts Challenge. My candy heart prompt was “What’s up”. This is my first texting fic so let me know what you think! 

What’s up?

Remus gets the text a couple minutes past midnight. He’d been about to fall asleep. His body tipsy, and light, and wrung out with exhaustion, but all it takes is one glance at Sirius’s name, for his heart rate to speed up in his chest, for his hands to gather a light sheen of sweat. 

It’s cliche, is the thing. To fall so far in love with your best friend that you can’t see a way out. 

Whenever Remus lets himself think about it it makes him want to hit something. His head against a brick wall for starters. 

He didn’t mean for it to end up like this. The feelings had crept up on him so innocently, a small wriggle in his chest when Sirius winked at him, a spark when their hands touched. 

It used to be so easy to pretend that it was nothing. They were friends, close friends. And if Sirius looked insanely attractive with a cigarette between his fingers, or his guitar across his thighs, well that was just a completely platonic thing to notice. 

Remus wasn’t quite sure when things had started to change. 

Maybe, a year ago late at night when they’d both stumbled back to James’s house drunk and woken up sprawled across his floor, legs intertwined, Remus’s hand cradling the dip of Sirius’s waist.

Maybe, six months ago when Sirius had boroughed a t-shirt and the light from the window had hit him at the perfect angle, turning his tousled curls into a shining halo. 

Maybe, half an hour ago at Lily’s party, when Sirius’s cheeks were flushed and his smile was a mile wide and the glimpse of his collarbones made a sudden surge of want slam through Remus’s stomach. 

Maybe it doesn’t matter where it started. Maybe every second spent in Sirius’s presence has been leading up to this moment, the brightness of a screen burning Remus’s retinas, the black plastic of a phone slippery against Remus’s hot hand. 

Remus sucks in a breath, holds it, feels unsteady on his feet. 

Before he can stop himself he lets his fingers fly over the keyboard. 

Have you ever thought that maybe we could be more than just friends? 

He presses send and feels like he’s standing at a precipice, a strong wind blowing him closer to the edge. 

The sharp ding of a text tone reminds him to draw a breath against the tightness of his ribcage. Heat crackles down his spine. 

Yes 

Then, two seconds later.