A/N: Hi guys :D This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so be gentle with me [: Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Sadly enough, not my boys...
Remus doesn't look up as Sirius throws himself into the seat beside him at the Gryffindor table – he's deeply engrossed in his conversation with Peter about their Charms homework and besides, he knows better. That doesn't mean, however, that he isn't hyper-aware of the other boy as he reaches out blindly to drag a cup of tea and a plate of toast towards him. Everyone assumes that Remus is the one with the sweet tooth – mainly because Sirius always buys him chocolate so that when Remus 'reminds' him that he doesn't even like chocolate, he can eat it himself – but they couldn't be more wrong and he can't help shuddering as he listens to Sirius heaping an obscene amount of sugar into his cup and taking a large slurp from it before biting into a disgustingly dry slice of toast. This shudder used to earn him a puzzled look from Peter, but he long ago accepted that each one of Remus' werewolf-heightened senses are focused solely on Sirius the second he enters the room, and he takes it in stride, continuing to talk as though his friend is listening.
His friend isn't listening. Remus blinks as he realises he hasn't got a clue what Peter has just said, but he is looking at him expectantly, apparently waiting for some sort of response.
"Sorry... What?"
Peter doesn't mention Remus' inattention, but repeats his question rather breathlessly. "Do you think Flitwick will mind that my essay's half an inch off?"
The logical thing to do, Remus knows, would be to tell Peter that after six years he should know that Flitwick never bothers to measure assignments that are longer than he is tall, so he should just calm down and finish his bacon. Remus also knows that the illogical thing to do would be to bring Sirius into the conversation. He really does know better, but he can't resist trying, just to see if this is the morning that it's different.
He adopts a carefully blank expression and shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe." He turns in his seat to look at Sirius, who is bent so low over his breakfast that his nose is almost touching his toast and his long fringe is actually in his tea. "What do you think, Padfoot?"
Sirius flinches despite Remus' soft tone and sighs exasperatedly, but otherwise doesn't move.
"Fuck off, will you, Moony?"
The other boy swallows hard and looks away. He really should have known better, but he can't help the sting of hurt and disappointment, or the way he automatically searches his memory for something he might have done to deserve such treatment even though he already knows that he will find nothing.
Peter looks sympathetic when he turns back to him and Remus can't bring himself to give his friend the answer he had originally intended – after all, would it not be a tad hypocritical of him to tell Peter that he should know one of their teachers after six years when he doesn't even know his best friend after the same amount of time?
"No, Pete. Flitwick won't mind."
Peter offers him a relieved smile and begins to chatter about nothing, giving Remus the option to tune out, which he takes.
He doesn't return to himself until a movement to his right disturbs him; Sirius has finally sat up and is currently downing his, by now cold, tea. Once the cup is drained he sets it down, pushes his sopping and sticky fringe off his face and stands, gritting out, "I need a fucking fag," as he does so.
Remus and Peter stand with him and all three pause long enough for Remus to signal to James, who is sitting well out of the firing line down the other end of the table, talking to Lily, and who immediately excuses himself and moves to join them.
The four friends exit the Great Hall together and before long they're stood against the back wall of Greenhouse Four.
"It's your turn, Moony," James announces, breaking the silence first – as always, he's the only one brave enough to. "What's first lesson?"
"Potions," Remus mumbles around the cigarette already held between his lips – of course he knows it's his turn – and leans around Sirius to offer the pack to James, who takes three and gives two to Sirius. Peter doesn't smoke, so Remus returns the carton to his robe's inside pocket.
The three of them light their cigs with their wands and smoke in silence. Peter knows by now that to interrupt them would earn him multiple, simultaneous 'Stupefy's.
No one speaks even after they've finished their cigarettes and Sirius lights up his second. It's only when he's halfway through it that any of them move again.
An arm is looped around Remus' waist and a firm kiss is pressed to his temple, and the werewolf breathes a sigh of relief. It's over for another day – Sirius is awake.
Keeping his hold on his boyfriend, Sirius drapes his other arm over James' shoulders – Remus, out of habit, does the same to Peter – and flicks his fag, avoiding getting ash on James' robes with practiced ease.
"Look at that sky, lads!" he barks suddenly, his trademark grin finally spreading over his face. "It's going to be a cracker of a day."
Remus turns his gaze to the stretch of clear blue above them and thinks that maybe he's right.