Behind Grey Eyes.
Genre: Romance, friendship, humor, hurt/comfort, angst.
Pairing: Remus x Sirius
Warning: Contains elements of homosexuality - don't like, don't read.
Notes: Poem is called "How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Browning.
He could've done it by magic, but as his friend loved to remind him, sometimes Muggles had the right idea. He laughed softly to himself, at the irony of it all. Said friend was born and bred a pureblood wizard, came from an elitist family, and he often chided the half-blood Remus for not being Muggle enough.
His soft laughter was now reduced to a gentle smile as he busied himself with preparing some nice ham-and-cheese sandwich for his companion and him. It was almost therapeutic - he could do so many sandwiches without a care in the world. Perhaps this was why Sirius liked it when they did it the Muggle way. It required less mental concentration, and one can afford to think of other things.
The house was quiet today. Harry and his friends had left for Hogwarts, and the other members of the Order had their own respective tasks to fulfill. It was a rare moment of solitude for the both of them.
"You alright there, Remus?" A deep voice called out to him from the hallway, and just as he turned around, Sirius was leaning against the doorframe.
He smiled, eyes twinkling. "Hungry, are you?" He teased, though now his hands were already carrying the two plates of sandwiches to the table.
Sirius didn't answer him, but returned the playful smile as he seated himself across from Remus.
"Very," he replied, just as he finished the first piece.
And there they sat, in companionable silence as both began to indulge in their own melancholic thoughts.
It had been so long.
Remus looked up, munching slowly on his third piece, gaze soft as it lingered on his friend. A gentle smile crept up his lips, and a surge of protectiveness engulfed his heart when he saw the elusive peacefulness resting upon his best friend's gaunt face. He winced slightly, averting his gaze to the crumbs on his plate as he felt guilt gnawing on his conscience. He too had mistrusted Sirius. Of all people, how could he ever think that Sirius was the spy? Of all people, why was he the one that doubted Sirius?
"Stop it, Remus."
He looked up, mouth slightly agape, a questioning glance replaced the one of pain.
"You're thinking about that time again," Sirius continued, his furrowed eyebrows and clenched jaw showing his annoyance.
"H-How?" He stammered, unable to comprehend just how Sirius could fathom his thoughts.
"You looked at me, then at your bread," he explained in a sharp tone, then softened as a cheeky smile played on his lips, "Could anything else be more interesting to look at than me?"
He threw his head back in laughter, the loveliest sound that sent pleasant tingles down to Sirius' toes, warmed the coldest chambers of his heart and sent his mind into a giddy whirl.
Yet nothing had changed.
"You're right," his laughter had subsided as he clutched his aching sides, and wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes, "I'm sorry, Padfoot."
"Apology accepted," Sirius replied, his lips now curling into a mischievous lopsided grin.
"How do I love thee?" Remus asked, arms gesturing in a dramatic flourish, expression contorted in a mix of amusement and emotion.
"Let me count the ways," he reciprocated, voice now raised in a theatrical manner.
"I love thee to the depth and breadth and height," Remus now continued, having caught his surprise in time, "My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight."
"I love thee freely, as men strive for Right," he almost whispered; his voice now lowered to a harsh, hoarse sound - broken as the man who spoke the words himself.
"I love thee with a passion put to use," he said softly, holding back the tears and the urge to embrace the black-haired man who now looked at him with such astonishment, "in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith."
"I love thee with a love I seemed to lose," Sirius went on, a bitter smile now replacing the faltering one before, "with my lost saints."
"I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life!" Remus exclaimed, voice now stronger as he sought to affirm the words he had uttered.
"And, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death," Sirius finished, looking into the brown, soulful eyes of his friend of 25 years. He gulped, swallowing waves of nervousness along with him as he opened his mouth to speak again - this time in his own words - but nothing came out.
"Padfoot," he began, standing up, and as he closed the distance between them with a fierce embrace, stunning the thinner man beneath him, "Hush."
And so he did.
Pairing: Remus x Sirius
Warning: Contains elements of homosexuality - don't like, don't read.
Notes: Poem is called "How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Browning.
He could've done it by magic, but as his friend loved to remind him, sometimes Muggles had the right idea. He laughed softly to himself, at the irony of it all. Said friend was born and bred a pureblood wizard, came from an elitist family, and he often chided the half-blood Remus for not being Muggle enough.
His soft laughter was now reduced to a gentle smile as he busied himself with preparing some nice ham-and-cheese sandwich for his companion and him. It was almost therapeutic - he could do so many sandwiches without a care in the world. Perhaps this was why Sirius liked it when they did it the Muggle way. It required less mental concentration, and one can afford to think of other things.
The house was quiet today. Harry and his friends had left for Hogwarts, and the other members of the Order had their own respective tasks to fulfill. It was a rare moment of solitude for the both of them.
"You alright there, Remus?" A deep voice called out to him from the hallway, and just as he turned around, Sirius was leaning against the doorframe.
He smiled, eyes twinkling. "Hungry, are you?" He teased, though now his hands were already carrying the two plates of sandwiches to the table.
Sirius didn't answer him, but returned the playful smile as he seated himself across from Remus.
"Very," he replied, just as he finished the first piece.
And there they sat, in companionable silence as both began to indulge in their own melancholic thoughts.
It had been so long.
Remus looked up, munching slowly on his third piece, gaze soft as it lingered on his friend. A gentle smile crept up his lips, and a surge of protectiveness engulfed his heart when he saw the elusive peacefulness resting upon his best friend's gaunt face. He winced slightly, averting his gaze to the crumbs on his plate as he felt guilt gnawing on his conscience. He too had mistrusted Sirius. Of all people, how could he ever think that Sirius was the spy? Of all people, why was he the one that doubted Sirius?
"Stop it, Remus."
He looked up, mouth slightly agape, a questioning glance replaced the one of pain.
"You're thinking about that time again," Sirius continued, his furrowed eyebrows and clenched jaw showing his annoyance.
"H-How?" He stammered, unable to comprehend just how Sirius could fathom his thoughts.
"You looked at me, then at your bread," he explained in a sharp tone, then softened as a cheeky smile played on his lips, "Could anything else be more interesting to look at than me?"
He threw his head back in laughter, the loveliest sound that sent pleasant tingles down to Sirius' toes, warmed the coldest chambers of his heart and sent his mind into a giddy whirl.
Yet nothing had changed.
"You're right," his laughter had subsided as he clutched his aching sides, and wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes, "I'm sorry, Padfoot."
"Apology accepted," Sirius replied, his lips now curling into a mischievous lopsided grin.
"How do I love thee?" Remus asked, arms gesturing in a dramatic flourish, expression contorted in a mix of amusement and emotion.
"Let me count the ways," he reciprocated, voice now raised in a theatrical manner.
"I love thee to the depth and breadth and height," Remus now continued, having caught his surprise in time, "My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight."
"I love thee freely, as men strive for Right," he almost whispered; his voice now lowered to a harsh, hoarse sound - broken as the man who spoke the words himself.
"I love thee with a passion put to use," he said softly, holding back the tears and the urge to embrace the black-haired man who now looked at him with such astonishment, "in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith."
"I love thee with a love I seemed to lose," Sirius went on, a bitter smile now replacing the faltering one before, "with my lost saints."
"I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life!" Remus exclaimed, voice now stronger as he sought to affirm the words he had uttered.
"And, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death," Sirius finished, looking into the brown, soulful eyes of his friend of 25 years. He gulped, swallowing waves of nervousness along with him as he opened his mouth to speak again - this time in his own words - but nothing came out.
"Padfoot," he began, standing up, and as he closed the distance between them with a fierce embrace, stunning the thinner man beneath him, "Hush."
And so he did.