A/N: This is on my tumblr already. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue. Actually, I probably will. I don't know. Anyway, so... yeah. As usual, I don't own the boys or anything from the Harry Potter 'verse. I'm just writing for fun. Enjoy! :)
With a thud, a motorbike landed on a country road, upright and tires spinning, transitioning smoothly from flight to driving. It's riders, a pair of young men, seemed to have different takes on the action. One, the driver, a bit scruffy with flowing dark hair, hooted with delight as they made contact. The other, clean cut with a pair of dark sunglasses that seemed to swallow his entire face, didn't seem too happy with the entire situation.
Remus wrapped his arms tighter against Sirius, yelling over the roar of the motorbike, hoping desperately that it wouldn't take flight again, never sure whether it was the bike's own will or the operator's that did it. "Why are we doing this again?" He hated this blasted thing and had thought he'd made it clear. For some reason, though, here he was, plastered to the back of his boyfriend, following along behind two rented bikes carrying newlywed James and Lily Potter and Peter Pettigrew and Mary MacDonald.
"Because," Sirius called back, hair flying behind him and smattering in Remus's face, making the young man even more reminiscent of his canine form. "You were the one wanted to spend our last days summer together before you go off to nap training camp and I go off to Auror training with Peter and James, our best friends and fellow marauders, who you are abandoning doing something 'fun.'" He revved the engine and pulled back, bike levitating a bit and causing Remus to clutch for a stronger grip around his midsection. He let out a wicked laugh. "This is fun, Moony!"
"This is suicide is more like it," he yelled back, followed by a yelp as they swerved around a particularly adventurous hare.
They slowed back down a bit, taking on a more relaxed pace. "Oh, come on," Sirius cooed, taking one hand off the handlebars and smoothing it up into his passenger's hair. "You know you think it's sexy."
"I do," Remus concurred without any protest. "When it's just you. Because you're crazy enough to pull it off. I, as a moderately sane individual," he began to gesture with his hands as he spoke, panicked and froze for a moment before flinging himself back around Sirius, "cannot. Therefore, I find this to be rather terrifying."
A few moments later, the vehicle began to slow, whether of it's own volition or it's operator's, Sirius seemed to be on board. "Why don't we get off the bike for a while and go for a walk." The bike came to a stop and the Sirius hopped off, offering a hand to Remus, already aware that he was not the most elegant at disembarking.
"Are you sure?" Remus asked, looking ahead at the other two bikes vanishing into the distance. "You don't think James, Peter, Lily and Mary will mind if we're a bit behind?" He leaned over into the sidecar and pulled out a moderately small contraption that Sirius wasn't really sure of the function.
"I'm sure." Sensing no movement from the young man, he lifted him right off the metal hunk. "Besides," he added, putting him down with an oomph before lacing their fingers together in one smooth movement, "I know Mrs. Potter will more than understand the whinging of a woman right before her cycle." He laughed a bit, kissing him lightly on the cheek.
"Oh, sod off," he scoffed pushing him away, then readjusting his sunglasses, though not releasing his grip on the other's hand. The pair walked along the grassy field silently for a few moments. Sirius kicked mindlessly at a small rock and hissed in pain when it didn't move, despite his force. Remus merely smiled, his brown eyes deep in thought. He stopped walking for a moment, hardly budging when Sirius moved almost to the full length of their arms. He tugged him back, sliding his free hand around his waist and slipping his thumb into the middle belt loop of his jeans. "What am I going to do without you?"
Sirius smiled his infamous mischievous, "shirk-it-all" playboy smile, dropping his left arm unceremoniously over Remus's shoulder. "You'll get by, I presume." He pursed his lips, nodding a bit, surveying the situation and looking off into the line of trees. "I mean, we lot-"
But he was cut off. "I didn't mean 'you lot'." Sirius's attention whipped back to Remus and only Remus. "I meant you."
Lacing his hand through the weathered young man's hair, his demeanor softened. They'd been through so much as a group and now so much more as a pair but none of it compared to what his Remus had been through as an individual. There was something so heartbreakingly beautiful about him. It seemed that, despite all of his reasons to let go and brood and fall into the playfully destructive habits that Sirius did, Remus never let it go that way. He knew who he was and what he needed to do to be the best that he could be. He never let people's perceptions of him get in the way. And he really admired that in him. But still, he couldn't bring himself to say it. "Moony…"
"No. Don't. Not yet." Remus interjected, not wanting to lose his nerve. "Let me finish." He'd been waiting since they'd left Hogwarts to have this conversation. The thought crossed his mind regularly. When he'd start off his morning with nothing more than a cup of tea and find in his bag a scone and an apple. Or when he'd come home from tutoring that insufferable first year that had nearly had to repeat and flop down on the couch in Sirius's flat to doze off and wake up with half as much space as he'd had before because Sirius had taken his dog form and curled up behind him. Or in their last few moments before falling asleep. Or the morning after a full moon, how he'd be almost unable to walk back to the shrieking shack and Sirius would stride up beside him, sweep him off his feet and carry him the remainder of the way.
Those were the moments he knew he loved him most. The little moments. And the moments he was scared to death of having to do without. "The last few months have been… incredible and now you're heading off to the ministry and I am performing mundane duties as intern for whomever they decide to stick me with." He took a deep breath, drinking in the sunlight and willing it to relax him, as it so often did. He looked closed his eyes and then, upon reopening them, realized that Sirius hadn't looked away from him. "We'll be apart. For the first time in 7 years," he felt the tears welling up in his brown eyes and focused on steadying his voice, which he knew would start to fail him, "we'll have go more than a couple of months without seeing each other every day." He pulled himself away, spinning himself in frustrated, stomping little circles as Sirius looked on. He stopped, focusing back on the young man in front of him. "Blimey, when was the last time we went more than a weekend without sharing a bed?" Sirius shook his head a little, unsure of the answer, now that he thought about it. Remus crossed closer to him again, leaning his cheek against the other boy's. "What are we going to do?"
This time, it was Sirius who wrapped his arms tightly around Remus. He rocked him back and forth, quietly until he felt the dampness of a foreign tear roll down his cheek. Remus was crying and that would never, never do. He immediately swooped into action, as he had done so many times before. "Hey, we'll get by." He pressed a bit of distance between them and adjusted the angle of his face so that they could see each other. "Hey. Hey now, don't start that." He wiped a tear away as Remus pulled back a few paces, resiliently wiping them away himself, as if a reminder that he'd have to become more independent. Sirius, unfazed, followed him step for step, placing his hands on Remus's waist. "Please. Listen to me. I have this motorbike and I can apparate and so can you. It's not like they won't let you out of that bloody castle from time to time and when they do, I'll be there." He nodded his head in one direction and the next, gesturing the various points of that sentence and not once breaking contact with his boyfriend. He slid his hands slowly up the boy's chest, feeling the soft fabric of his T-shirt beneath his weathered hands until they were behind his head, pulling him closer so that they were merely centimeters apart. "Hell, I know that castle just as well as you do," He waved his head a little before settling it against the other's forehead confidentially, "the ins and outs maybe better." Remus let out a tear-streaked laugh and Sirius smiled a bit. "So don't be surprised if you wake up and this," he circled his head a bit, breaking his touch and sliding into a goofy mock suave expression, "is looming over your beat up old mug, kissing the dreams from that head of yours." He placed a gentle kiss to his forehead, before rubbing his thumb along the slightly taller boy's jawline. "We'll be alright." Still, Remus didn't look at him. "You do trust me, don't you?" He nodded a little, allowing Sirius to relax a little. "Good. Now let's go." He tugged a bit at Remus, taking a few slow steps before suddenly, the small object from the sidecar was being thrust at him and Remus took off at a run heading for the bike and leaping across it. "Oi!" he yelled after him, sprinting, himself.
"Come on, Pads," he teased. "Get on the bike." He swiveled the front wheel pointing in one direction then the next and pretending to rev the engine but in actuality squeezing the brake.
Catching up, he patted the handlebars with a laugh. "They don't let sentimental old women drive these things."
"Who're you calling an old woman?" Remus asked incredulously, sliding his sunglasses back onto his eyes, puffing out his chest and putting his fists on his hips. "Who's on the dashing, macho motorbike and who, dare I ask, has a charming muggle camera?" The realization of what he had in his hands took over and Sirius stepped back, examining the artifact, a "handle" as it were, realizing that it spit the pictures from the top and easily figuring out where the capture button was. "Now, hop on-"
Click. The flashbulb lit and Remus was left stunned. It had taken him hours to figure out how to work his mother's camera and he'd figured it out quicker than the pictures themselves printed out? Unfair. Did he have to be so fast at everything? Sirius's eyebrows raised a bit, impressed with himself and sensing that Remus was too.
Still, Remus let out a playful laugh, "Oh you like that huh?"
Snap. Another flash.
"You tosspot!"
Click. A third bright light.
"Alright, you can stop now." Remus pouted a bit and Sirius strode toward him.
"Are you gonna get off of there and let me drive before you go ass over tit and take my bike with you?" He swayed a bit where he stood, raising the camera up beside him.
Remus made an over exaggerated pout and stuck out his chin. "'M not."
A fourth click. A fourth flash. "Now?" Remus shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. Sirius got ever closer, resting the camera on the sidecar, and entangled his hands in the lower hem of his boyfriend's shirt. "Now?"
Rolling his head back, he cooed "Getting warmer."
"How about now?" Sirius pressed a trail of kisses up from the lowest region of skin left exposed above his T-shirt, up his neck, across his strong jaw, then finally landing on his mouth. His lips parted ever so slightly, his tongue making a journey of it's own, darting across to the lips of the boy atop the motorbike. When they finally parted and Remus pulled Sirius in tighter, sliding backward on the bike, Sirius moved one hand away, reaching across and grabbing the camera for one last surprise picture. He deepened the kiss, nearly laying himself atop Remus and flash. The bright light sent Remus sliding back far enough, leaving room for Sirius to swing his leg over the bike and chorus a quick "Alright then, off we go," before howling into the wind, tossing the camera and snapshots into the vacant sidecar.
Remus simply rolled his eyes and pressed his cheek into Sirius's back as they reared up into the air, catching up to the rest of the group before they knew it.
—
A ragged man stares at the contents of an envelope of pictures dated 31 August 1979. Shadows of himself and ghosts of his past stand stoic on the sepia toned papers. He reaches a point in the group where stand four pictures of himself, each with a grotesque face as though taken mid sentence. Then, as fast as they had appeared, the next- another picture of himself with another boy plastered on top of him. He looked so happy. He almost couldn't remember being that happy, but the photo. He could almost feel the sun, the lips, the l- no. He slammed the photos back into the envelope and into a box in his trunk before lugging it off to the train station to board the Hogwarts express as he'd intended to do less than 24 hours after those pictures were taken.
