Beautiful [Remus/Sirius, R]
Title: Beautiful
Rating: I would say PG-13, but there are quite a few F-bombs. So I put R to be safe.
Genre: This is almost purely fluff and romantic schmoop, with a bit of angst. Mainly schmoop though. Oh God, the schmoop.
Warnings: Language (Sirius has a potty mouth), references to sex but nothing explicit (it's a bit of a fade to black).
Length: 2,986 words.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to somebody who is not me. I don't intend any infringement by writing this. It's just for fun.
Author's Note: I want to apologize for the unoriginal title, but I'm even worse at titles than I am at ending stories. This is not the first story I've written, but it's the first I've ever shared with anybody. I welcome constructive feedback of all kinds. Enjoy! <3
Summary: Sirius tries to make Remus, who is feeling fragile after the full moon, see himself as Sirius does. Takes place at Hogwarts during sixth year.
Remus sighed as he stood by the foot of his bed, staring at the pile of books he had placed on top of his coverlet. He really ought to start in on the make-up work he had to finish before Monday, now that he was back from the hospital wing. Remus couldn’t quite bring himself to care, though.
Anyone who knew the young werewolf well knew that this was relatively unusual behavior for him. Remus was good about keeping a stiff upper lip and a forward-thinking, no-nonsense mien about him. If he let himself feel every negative feeling or indulge in every pessimistic thought that crossed his mind, he would never get anything done, so what was the point?
But ever since one harsh, long full moon in the summer before third year had him snapping at shadows for a week, Remus would be periodically hit with what his best friends called “moods”. It didn’t happen after each and every full moon, but only after particularly bad ones. Going into a full with unusually high stress levels or a low reserve of sleep also exacerbated it.
Remus would come out of these full moons feeling despondent, morose. He was slower, both physically and mentally, and would be unable to do any work for several days longer than it normally took to get back into the swing of things. He hated it. And it seemed to be getting worse in the last few months, since the beginning of their sixth year.
Since the age of 14, after realizing that no, he did not have a low sex drive - he was gay - Remus was scrupulous about suppressing any untoward feelings he might have about other boys he knew. As far as he knew, he was the only gay wizard at Hogwarts and he was no glutton for punishment.
For two years, this worked well. His wank fantasies were strictly about either featureless bodies or famous people. His gaze never wandered in the dorm showers or when crossing paths with other Prefects in the baths.
Then something happened that made this repression harder and harder to keep up, and caused his “moods” to happen more and more frequently. Remus fell in love with his best friend, Sirius Black.
- - -
Remus was still standing in the same spot, staring at nothing and slumped against the bedpost, several minutes later when the door to the sixth year boys’ dorm flew open with a bang.
“Hey there, sexy!” Sirius didn’t notice Remus tense at his carefree greeting. “Pomfrey let you out of her clutches finally? Jamie and Pete are down in the common room finishing the Astronomy assignment. The only good thing about being a Black is knowing all the constellations backwards and forwards; I swear I could do that class in my sleep. Come to think of it, I usually do, don’t I?” Sirius laughed at his own joke as he threw his bag down on his bed and kicked off his shoes. He didn’t seem to notice Remus’ lack of response until he finally lifted his head to look at his dark blond friend.
“What’s the matter, beautiful?”
Slumping even further against the post, Remus took in a shaky breath and turned to look at Sirius, eyes wide and wet-looking. “Pads, please, don’t. I can’t handle your teasing right now.” Voice soft, Remus looked down at his feet as he clutched the bedpost for support.
“Teasing? I wasn’t teasing you, Moony!” Sirius exclaimed indignantly.
Remus’ voice trembled slightly as he spoke, jutting his jaw out in defiance. “You were, you always do. Calling me beautiful, se-” voice hitching, he took a deep breath. “Sexy. Normally it’s fine, but I just, I just can’t right now Sirius.”
Sirius cocked his head, brow furrowing in confusion, and stared at his best friend who looked like he was doing his very best to avoid breaking down completely and was very nearly failing. Then, the words began to process in his mind, and his brow cleared. He chuckled slightly in surprised realization, then immediately regretted it when Remus appeared to curve in on himself even more at the light sound.
“Remus... you think I’m teasing you when I say you’re beautiful? You think I’m making fun?” Remus just looked lost, golden eyes flickering briefly to meet Sirius’ own gray ones in confusion before finding his feet again.
“Love, no. I’m not- I wouldn’t-” Sirius sighed, frustrated. “I call you beautiful because you are, Remmy.”
The werewolf made a strangled, derisive noise deep in his throat, but didn’t move. Sirius continued stubbornly. “Merlin, Remus, you really don’t see it? Don’t you ever wonder why that gaggle of Ravenclaw fifth years always follows you in the library, giggling and playing with their hair? They see what I see, what everyone with a brain sees, Remus, except for you apparently.”
The raven-haired youth took a few steps toward his friend, coming to stand an arm’s breadth away. He made a twitching motion as if to reach out and touch, but thought better of it. Remus backed up slightly until he was sitting on the edge of his bed, spine curved downwards as he fiddled with a lose thread on the sleeve of his jumper. His eyes flickered up to his friend’s once more before falling back to stare studiously at the carpet.
“Let’s start with the superficial, hm?” Sirius said briskly, like he was working through an agenda at a business meeting. He wasn’t quite sure where he was going with this, but he knew he had to do something to remove that horrible, lost expression from his Remus’ face.
“You have gorgeous hair, Rem. I mean, it’s not like mine, but then again my hair is in a league of it’s own. You don’t have flashy hair. Your hair is subtle. At first, you think it’s just an unremarkable dark blond or light brown depending on the light, and you don’t pay it much mind. But then, then Remus, if you really look you start to realize how fucking incredible your hair is. I swear, I’ve seen 50 different colors in your fucking hair. Gold and amber and honey and butterbeer and toffee. Everything I love is in that hair. At sunset, if you’re standing with the light behind you, you look like a fucking revelation. Brilliant. Literally.”
He chuckled slightly at this, then paused. After a moment, voice soft, Sirius continued, “Or in the early morning, when your smile is still soft and open, it’s cinnamon-sugar toast. In the afternoon when we’re out by the lake it always looks so bright, reflecting the sun, a clear golden blond. Fuck, Rem, your hair is a fucking light show.”
Remus hadn’t moved during this speech, other than to back a bit further onto his bed. His shoulders were tense, but he kept his face hidden from view and he continued to stare resolutely at his feet. Sirius had no idea how he was reacting, but in true Sirius fashion he decided to plow forward regardless. In for a knut, in for a galleon.
“And your eyes, Moony. Your eyes are the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. Sometimes they’re almost yellow, near the full, and you look so predatory and hot with your pupils blown wide. They mellow out as the moon wanes, though, and become more and more golden. Everything about you is golden. You’re so warm, and your hair and your eyes are like being wrapped in sunlight. I love when your eyes are soft and sleepy (you’re always sleepy, Rem), but your eyes - so, so wide, like innocence and sex and wonder and home all in one.
“Your features are subtle, too. I know you think your nose is a bit too large, too rough. Your cheekbones couldn’t cut steel, you don’t have a patrician profile like me. But your brow is straight and your jaw is strong, and you have that little bump on the bridge of your nose...
“You have the face of a man. Not a pretty man, like me. Or a classically handsome one, like James. Or even a cute one, like Peter. Your features are those of a real man, a sexy one. Your crow’s feet, that bump on your nose - you call them imperfections. I call them fascinating, and so, so hot. Primal. And I’ve heard more than one of those Ravenclaw bints waxing rhapsodic about it, especially if you forgot to shave that morning.”
Sirius could see a faint pink glow spreading down Remus’ ears and neck where he was sitting with his head bowed. He had a feeling that Remus’ face was bright red. The thought was both endearing and frustrating. He knew he hadn’t gotten through yet; Remus still didn’t understand. He had no choice but to keep going, now that he had started; things he had been thinking about, obsessing over really, for months now were bubbling to the surface.
“I can’t forget about your smile. I could write epic poems about all your different smiles. Your I-love-you-Sirius-I-really-do-but-I-could-just-kill-you-right-now smile. Your I-am-about-to-eat-chocolate-and-it’s-going-to-be-fucking-awesome smile. Your I-just-figured-out-some-complicated-homework-problem smile. My favorite is your I-am-so-fucking-happy-and-I-don’t-care-about-anything-else smile. That one takes up your whole face. I love it when that happens, even if it’s only every once in a while. You have a million different smiles, Remus, and I love every one of them.
“And your body, Remus. Oh Godric, your body. You think you’re scrawny, I know you do. But Merlin, Remus, you know how strong you are. Some of it may be magical because of the wolf thing, but I’ve felt the muscles in your arms. Your strength is physical, too. I’ve seen you without a shirt. You may be slender, and you might not have all these clearly-defined lines like some weird muggle body builder, but your body is sure as hell not scrawny. Fuck, when you take off your shirt and I can see the sinews in your back rippling and your shoulders look so broad... Gods, Remus your torso is a work of art. It’s slender and solid at the same time. Strong and smooth. Like your rough nose and your soulful eyes. That’s what’s so intoxicating Remmy, it’s the contradictions. Fuck.
“And I can’t get started about your arse and your legs or I’ll have a real problem.” Sirius closed his eyes, feeling overwhelmed suddenly. Remus was still studiously avoiding his gaze, no matter that Sirius was laying everything bare. But knowing Remus, he was still rationalizing it all away. All the yearning, the love, the - Merlin forbid - desire, behind Sirius’ words was probably being dismissed by that pessimistic, analytical mind as he stood there, helpless to prevent it.
“Like your skin. You’d expect it to be kind of rough, wouldn’t you? You’re not exactly easy on it. But it’s golden, just like the rest of you, and so, so soft. Your hands are rough, but the rest of your skin is so beautiful and silky. Maybe because it never fully gets the chance to age before it’s destroyed every month. Your skin is brand new, always.”
Remus was breathing loudly, almost hyperventilating, and Sirius knew he was skirting a dangerous subject. He was feeling reckless, though.
“Now we get to your scars. I will never be able to know, truly, how deeply you hate them, and why. Maybe you can tell me more, one day. All I know now is what they make me feel.” Sirius took a deep breath, steeling himself. He knew Remus’ wouldn’t particularly like hearing what he was about to say.
“I don’t say it enough, every month, when we’re planning our marauding, because I’m working so hard to distract you. But your transformation kills me a little bit every time. The moment it happens, when I’m Padfoot and I’m right there next to you watching every little thing happen to your, Gods, to your precious, perfect, beautiful body. That moment, every month, is the new worst moment of my life.
“I hate your curse and your pain more than anything in the world. More than my dear cousin Bella. More than Mother. More than fucking Voldemort.” Sirius exhaled loudly and closed his eyes.
“But I don’t hate your scars. Fuck, I kind of love your scars. When I see them, they do remind me of those nights. Mostly, though, what I see is you, Remus, not your wolf. You - healing. Every fucking month your body is destroyed and your mind, your incredible mind, is fucking lost to you and it fucking sucks. And every month your body gets put back together again. That gorgeous mind of yours doesn’t destroy anything, it comes back and starts getting excited about some obscure transfiguration theory and it makes beautiful things happen in charms and it fucks up potions like nobody else on Earth.”
Remus made a choked laughing noise that was really more of a whine, and finally, finally he looked up and his eyes met Sirius’. They were wider than he’d ever seen, and Sirius could make out confusion and worry and a lot of disbelief and just a little hope all mixed around inside those eyes. He latched on to the hope, and held eye contact as he continued.
“You are the strongest person I know, Rem, and I include Minnie and Dumbledore in that. That you can just pick yourself up, dust off your robes and fucking be this amazing human being every day... You are the most compassionate and caring and devoted person, Remus, and I know we make fun of you for it but it’s a fucking miracle, and the three of us - I - would be so lost without you.
“So I see your scars and it’s not your curse, it’s not ugliness. It’s your incredible courage and strength and it’s so beautiful I could weep, every day, it’s all I see when I look at you and your scars and your body. I look at you and I see the most gorgeous man, inside and out, that has ever been put on this earth, and nothing else. It’s home and it’s love and it’s you, Remmy, it’s always been you.” Sirius’ voice roughened and broke as tears threatened to fall, but he forced them down with gulping deep breaths. This was not about him.
Remus hadn’t once looked away from Sirius’ face as he spoke. His wide eyes were wet, but he didn’t let the tears fall either. Sirius’s own eyes darted across Remus’ face, trying to gauge his emotions, and almost laughed with incredulity when he still saw the uncertainty outweighing hope in the other boy’s expression.
The silence stretched, and Sirius began to panic. Maybe it wasn’t hope, he saw. Maybe Remus was trying to think of how to let Sirius down gently. There’s no way he could play this off as a friend trying to make a friend feel better, he revealed way too much, and oh fuck, now he’s ruined everything and Remus is never going to be able to look him in the eye again and - Remus’s hand was reaching towards him.
Sirius trembled as he felt his best friend’s palm cup his jaw so delicately, a question in those fathomless golden eyes. Sirius couldn’t deny those eyes anything. He leaned forward, slowly, his own hands coming up, one to cup Remus’ nape and the other to thread through that thick hair he had been gushing about what felt like hours ago.
Remus closed his golden owl eyes with a little sigh, a shaky, but happy sigh, as Sirius moved closer. The raven-haired boy refused to close his own until the last possible moment. He didn’t want to miss anything. Only after brushing his lips as light as a feather against Remus’ did Sirius let them fall shut, too busy trying to memorize the sound of Remus’ breath catching and the feel of it puffing lightly over his skin.
He brushed his lips over the other boy’s again, twice, three times, then pressed a little closer. Tilting his mouth slightly, he slotted their lips together, and Sirius slid along the crease of Remus’ mouth with his own upper lip, letting Remus’ bottom lip catch between his. A pause, and another press, a bit more insistent.
Sirius slid his hand from Remus’ neck to his cheek, mirroring Remus’ own, and the movement caused Remus’ lips to part slightly. Sirius heard his own breath hitch, this time, and he pressed a lightening succession of little pecks along the full bow of Remus’ lower lip before darting his tongue to follow the trail his upper lip had blazed a few moments earlier.
Like a switch had been flicked, he could feel all of the tension that had been strumming so tightly wound inside Remus dissipate completely. Sirius was suddenly presented with an armful of languid werewolf, and he did the only thing he could think to do. He laid his best friend gently across his bed and covered him with his own body.
Remus’ eyes were open again, and he was staring up at Sirius with something like wonder. Sirius grinned lopsidedly, and Remus’ eyes crinkled at the corners, Sirius’ favorite Remus smile stretching across his face.
For now, it was enough to just look. In a minute (they were teenage boys, after all) they would kiss more, and then do even more than kiss, and it would be amazing and overwhelmingly perfect. Then much later, they would talk about everything and Remus would stumble through his own thoughts and they would decide to be boyfriends. But that was much later. Right then, at that moment, staring down at his best friend with eyes filled with love, as his best friend returned his gaze, the same emotion pouring from his own eyes, it was enough just to look, in silence.
Rating: I would say PG-13, but there are quite a few F-bombs. So I put R to be safe.
Genre: This is almost purely fluff and romantic schmoop, with a bit of angst. Mainly schmoop though. Oh God, the schmoop.
Warnings: Language (Sirius has a potty mouth), references to sex but nothing explicit (it's a bit of a fade to black).
Length: 2,986 words.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to somebody who is not me. I don't intend any infringement by writing this. It's just for fun.
Author's Note: I want to apologize for the unoriginal title, but I'm even worse at titles than I am at ending stories. This is not the first story I've written, but it's the first I've ever shared with anybody. I welcome constructive feedback of all kinds. Enjoy! <3
Summary: Sirius tries to make Remus, who is feeling fragile after the full moon, see himself as Sirius does. Takes place at Hogwarts during sixth year.
Remus sighed as he stood by the foot of his bed, staring at the pile of books he had placed on top of his coverlet. He really ought to start in on the make-up work he had to finish before Monday, now that he was back from the hospital wing. Remus couldn’t quite bring himself to care, though.
Anyone who knew the young werewolf well knew that this was relatively unusual behavior for him. Remus was good about keeping a stiff upper lip and a forward-thinking, no-nonsense mien about him. If he let himself feel every negative feeling or indulge in every pessimistic thought that crossed his mind, he would never get anything done, so what was the point?
But ever since one harsh, long full moon in the summer before third year had him snapping at shadows for a week, Remus would be periodically hit with what his best friends called “moods”. It didn’t happen after each and every full moon, but only after particularly bad ones. Going into a full with unusually high stress levels or a low reserve of sleep also exacerbated it.
Remus would come out of these full moons feeling despondent, morose. He was slower, both physically and mentally, and would be unable to do any work for several days longer than it normally took to get back into the swing of things. He hated it. And it seemed to be getting worse in the last few months, since the beginning of their sixth year.
Since the age of 14, after realizing that no, he did not have a low sex drive - he was gay - Remus was scrupulous about suppressing any untoward feelings he might have about other boys he knew. As far as he knew, he was the only gay wizard at Hogwarts and he was no glutton for punishment.
For two years, this worked well. His wank fantasies were strictly about either featureless bodies or famous people. His gaze never wandered in the dorm showers or when crossing paths with other Prefects in the baths.
Then something happened that made this repression harder and harder to keep up, and caused his “moods” to happen more and more frequently. Remus fell in love with his best friend, Sirius Black.
- - -
Remus was still standing in the same spot, staring at nothing and slumped against the bedpost, several minutes later when the door to the sixth year boys’ dorm flew open with a bang.
“Hey there, sexy!” Sirius didn’t notice Remus tense at his carefree greeting. “Pomfrey let you out of her clutches finally? Jamie and Pete are down in the common room finishing the Astronomy assignment. The only good thing about being a Black is knowing all the constellations backwards and forwards; I swear I could do that class in my sleep. Come to think of it, I usually do, don’t I?” Sirius laughed at his own joke as he threw his bag down on his bed and kicked off his shoes. He didn’t seem to notice Remus’ lack of response until he finally lifted his head to look at his dark blond friend.
“What’s the matter, beautiful?”
Slumping even further against the post, Remus took in a shaky breath and turned to look at Sirius, eyes wide and wet-looking. “Pads, please, don’t. I can’t handle your teasing right now.” Voice soft, Remus looked down at his feet as he clutched the bedpost for support.
“Teasing? I wasn’t teasing you, Moony!” Sirius exclaimed indignantly.
Remus’ voice trembled slightly as he spoke, jutting his jaw out in defiance. “You were, you always do. Calling me beautiful, se-” voice hitching, he took a deep breath. “Sexy. Normally it’s fine, but I just, I just can’t right now Sirius.”
Sirius cocked his head, brow furrowing in confusion, and stared at his best friend who looked like he was doing his very best to avoid breaking down completely and was very nearly failing. Then, the words began to process in his mind, and his brow cleared. He chuckled slightly in surprised realization, then immediately regretted it when Remus appeared to curve in on himself even more at the light sound.
“Remus... you think I’m teasing you when I say you’re beautiful? You think I’m making fun?” Remus just looked lost, golden eyes flickering briefly to meet Sirius’ own gray ones in confusion before finding his feet again.
“Love, no. I’m not- I wouldn’t-” Sirius sighed, frustrated. “I call you beautiful because you are, Remmy.”
The werewolf made a strangled, derisive noise deep in his throat, but didn’t move. Sirius continued stubbornly. “Merlin, Remus, you really don’t see it? Don’t you ever wonder why that gaggle of Ravenclaw fifth years always follows you in the library, giggling and playing with their hair? They see what I see, what everyone with a brain sees, Remus, except for you apparently.”
The raven-haired youth took a few steps toward his friend, coming to stand an arm’s breadth away. He made a twitching motion as if to reach out and touch, but thought better of it. Remus backed up slightly until he was sitting on the edge of his bed, spine curved downwards as he fiddled with a lose thread on the sleeve of his jumper. His eyes flickered up to his friend’s once more before falling back to stare studiously at the carpet.
“Let’s start with the superficial, hm?” Sirius said briskly, like he was working through an agenda at a business meeting. He wasn’t quite sure where he was going with this, but he knew he had to do something to remove that horrible, lost expression from his Remus’ face.
“You have gorgeous hair, Rem. I mean, it’s not like mine, but then again my hair is in a league of it’s own. You don’t have flashy hair. Your hair is subtle. At first, you think it’s just an unremarkable dark blond or light brown depending on the light, and you don’t pay it much mind. But then, then Remus, if you really look you start to realize how fucking incredible your hair is. I swear, I’ve seen 50 different colors in your fucking hair. Gold and amber and honey and butterbeer and toffee. Everything I love is in that hair. At sunset, if you’re standing with the light behind you, you look like a fucking revelation. Brilliant. Literally.”
He chuckled slightly at this, then paused. After a moment, voice soft, Sirius continued, “Or in the early morning, when your smile is still soft and open, it’s cinnamon-sugar toast. In the afternoon when we’re out by the lake it always looks so bright, reflecting the sun, a clear golden blond. Fuck, Rem, your hair is a fucking light show.”
Remus hadn’t moved during this speech, other than to back a bit further onto his bed. His shoulders were tense, but he kept his face hidden from view and he continued to stare resolutely at his feet. Sirius had no idea how he was reacting, but in true Sirius fashion he decided to plow forward regardless. In for a knut, in for a galleon.
“And your eyes, Moony. Your eyes are the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. Sometimes they’re almost yellow, near the full, and you look so predatory and hot with your pupils blown wide. They mellow out as the moon wanes, though, and become more and more golden. Everything about you is golden. You’re so warm, and your hair and your eyes are like being wrapped in sunlight. I love when your eyes are soft and sleepy (you’re always sleepy, Rem), but your eyes - so, so wide, like innocence and sex and wonder and home all in one.
“Your features are subtle, too. I know you think your nose is a bit too large, too rough. Your cheekbones couldn’t cut steel, you don’t have a patrician profile like me. But your brow is straight and your jaw is strong, and you have that little bump on the bridge of your nose...
“You have the face of a man. Not a pretty man, like me. Or a classically handsome one, like James. Or even a cute one, like Peter. Your features are those of a real man, a sexy one. Your crow’s feet, that bump on your nose - you call them imperfections. I call them fascinating, and so, so hot. Primal. And I’ve heard more than one of those Ravenclaw bints waxing rhapsodic about it, especially if you forgot to shave that morning.”
Sirius could see a faint pink glow spreading down Remus’ ears and neck where he was sitting with his head bowed. He had a feeling that Remus’ face was bright red. The thought was both endearing and frustrating. He knew he hadn’t gotten through yet; Remus still didn’t understand. He had no choice but to keep going, now that he had started; things he had been thinking about, obsessing over really, for months now were bubbling to the surface.
“I can’t forget about your smile. I could write epic poems about all your different smiles. Your I-love-you-Sirius-I-really-do-but-I-could-just-kill-you-right-now smile. Your I-am-about-to-eat-chocolate-and-it’s-going-to-be-fucking-awesome smile. Your I-just-figured-out-some-complicated-homework-problem smile. My favorite is your I-am-so-fucking-happy-and-I-don’t-care-about-anything-else smile. That one takes up your whole face. I love it when that happens, even if it’s only every once in a while. You have a million different smiles, Remus, and I love every one of them.
“And your body, Remus. Oh Godric, your body. You think you’re scrawny, I know you do. But Merlin, Remus, you know how strong you are. Some of it may be magical because of the wolf thing, but I’ve felt the muscles in your arms. Your strength is physical, too. I’ve seen you without a shirt. You may be slender, and you might not have all these clearly-defined lines like some weird muggle body builder, but your body is sure as hell not scrawny. Fuck, when you take off your shirt and I can see the sinews in your back rippling and your shoulders look so broad... Gods, Remus your torso is a work of art. It’s slender and solid at the same time. Strong and smooth. Like your rough nose and your soulful eyes. That’s what’s so intoxicating Remmy, it’s the contradictions. Fuck.
“And I can’t get started about your arse and your legs or I’ll have a real problem.” Sirius closed his eyes, feeling overwhelmed suddenly. Remus was still studiously avoiding his gaze, no matter that Sirius was laying everything bare. But knowing Remus, he was still rationalizing it all away. All the yearning, the love, the - Merlin forbid - desire, behind Sirius’ words was probably being dismissed by that pessimistic, analytical mind as he stood there, helpless to prevent it.
“Like your skin. You’d expect it to be kind of rough, wouldn’t you? You’re not exactly easy on it. But it’s golden, just like the rest of you, and so, so soft. Your hands are rough, but the rest of your skin is so beautiful and silky. Maybe because it never fully gets the chance to age before it’s destroyed every month. Your skin is brand new, always.”
Remus was breathing loudly, almost hyperventilating, and Sirius knew he was skirting a dangerous subject. He was feeling reckless, though.
“Now we get to your scars. I will never be able to know, truly, how deeply you hate them, and why. Maybe you can tell me more, one day. All I know now is what they make me feel.” Sirius took a deep breath, steeling himself. He knew Remus’ wouldn’t particularly like hearing what he was about to say.
“I don’t say it enough, every month, when we’re planning our marauding, because I’m working so hard to distract you. But your transformation kills me a little bit every time. The moment it happens, when I’m Padfoot and I’m right there next to you watching every little thing happen to your, Gods, to your precious, perfect, beautiful body. That moment, every month, is the new worst moment of my life.
“I hate your curse and your pain more than anything in the world. More than my dear cousin Bella. More than Mother. More than fucking Voldemort.” Sirius exhaled loudly and closed his eyes.
“But I don’t hate your scars. Fuck, I kind of love your scars. When I see them, they do remind me of those nights. Mostly, though, what I see is you, Remus, not your wolf. You - healing. Every fucking month your body is destroyed and your mind, your incredible mind, is fucking lost to you and it fucking sucks. And every month your body gets put back together again. That gorgeous mind of yours doesn’t destroy anything, it comes back and starts getting excited about some obscure transfiguration theory and it makes beautiful things happen in charms and it fucks up potions like nobody else on Earth.”
Remus made a choked laughing noise that was really more of a whine, and finally, finally he looked up and his eyes met Sirius’. They were wider than he’d ever seen, and Sirius could make out confusion and worry and a lot of disbelief and just a little hope all mixed around inside those eyes. He latched on to the hope, and held eye contact as he continued.
“You are the strongest person I know, Rem, and I include Minnie and Dumbledore in that. That you can just pick yourself up, dust off your robes and fucking be this amazing human being every day... You are the most compassionate and caring and devoted person, Remus, and I know we make fun of you for it but it’s a fucking miracle, and the three of us - I - would be so lost without you.
“So I see your scars and it’s not your curse, it’s not ugliness. It’s your incredible courage and strength and it’s so beautiful I could weep, every day, it’s all I see when I look at you and your scars and your body. I look at you and I see the most gorgeous man, inside and out, that has ever been put on this earth, and nothing else. It’s home and it’s love and it’s you, Remmy, it’s always been you.” Sirius’ voice roughened and broke as tears threatened to fall, but he forced them down with gulping deep breaths. This was not about him.
Remus hadn’t once looked away from Sirius’ face as he spoke. His wide eyes were wet, but he didn’t let the tears fall either. Sirius’s own eyes darted across Remus’ face, trying to gauge his emotions, and almost laughed with incredulity when he still saw the uncertainty outweighing hope in the other boy’s expression.
The silence stretched, and Sirius began to panic. Maybe it wasn’t hope, he saw. Maybe Remus was trying to think of how to let Sirius down gently. There’s no way he could play this off as a friend trying to make a friend feel better, he revealed way too much, and oh fuck, now he’s ruined everything and Remus is never going to be able to look him in the eye again and - Remus’s hand was reaching towards him.
Sirius trembled as he felt his best friend’s palm cup his jaw so delicately, a question in those fathomless golden eyes. Sirius couldn’t deny those eyes anything. He leaned forward, slowly, his own hands coming up, one to cup Remus’ nape and the other to thread through that thick hair he had been gushing about what felt like hours ago.
Remus closed his golden owl eyes with a little sigh, a shaky, but happy sigh, as Sirius moved closer. The raven-haired boy refused to close his own until the last possible moment. He didn’t want to miss anything. Only after brushing his lips as light as a feather against Remus’ did Sirius let them fall shut, too busy trying to memorize the sound of Remus’ breath catching and the feel of it puffing lightly over his skin.
He brushed his lips over the other boy’s again, twice, three times, then pressed a little closer. Tilting his mouth slightly, he slotted their lips together, and Sirius slid along the crease of Remus’ mouth with his own upper lip, letting Remus’ bottom lip catch between his. A pause, and another press, a bit more insistent.
Sirius slid his hand from Remus’ neck to his cheek, mirroring Remus’ own, and the movement caused Remus’ lips to part slightly. Sirius heard his own breath hitch, this time, and he pressed a lightening succession of little pecks along the full bow of Remus’ lower lip before darting his tongue to follow the trail his upper lip had blazed a few moments earlier.
Like a switch had been flicked, he could feel all of the tension that had been strumming so tightly wound inside Remus dissipate completely. Sirius was suddenly presented with an armful of languid werewolf, and he did the only thing he could think to do. He laid his best friend gently across his bed and covered him with his own body.
Remus’ eyes were open again, and he was staring up at Sirius with something like wonder. Sirius grinned lopsidedly, and Remus’ eyes crinkled at the corners, Sirius’ favorite Remus smile stretching across his face.
For now, it was enough to just look. In a minute (they were teenage boys, after all) they would kiss more, and then do even more than kiss, and it would be amazing and overwhelmingly perfect. Then much later, they would talk about everything and Remus would stumble through his own thoughts and they would decide to be boyfriends. But that was much later. Right then, at that moment, staring down at his best friend with eyes filled with love, as his best friend returned his gaze, the same emotion pouring from his own eyes, it was enough just to look, in silence.