Most of the time I guess I felt alright
But I wanted you to love me like you used to do
But you cannot run and you cannot hide
From the wreck we've made of our house
And the mess inside

Sirius-

I talked to Dumbledore and he told me that you're coming home tonight. I was hoping we could go into Hogsmeade and get some drinks or something. I feel like we haven't done anything in forever. What do you think?

-Remus

This is the letter that Remus agonizes over for two hours and eventually sends with Sirius' owl, hoping it is able to find him. He's not sure what to expect, but he knows the night is not going to go well when he gets the letter back a half an hour later with one word scribbled under it:

sure

"Hey," Sirius says a bit blandly as he steps in the door. He looks more tired and older than Remus has ever seen him. He puts a little bit of effort into giving Remus a smile as he takes his shoes off, but it doesn't reach his eyes, and he gives up on it right away anyway. "I'm just gonna go take a shower," he says, "Then we can go."

"Sure."

Remus remembers when Sirius used to sing in the shower, and then when he used to drag Remus in with him, but he doesn't mention this. Instead, he lets it eat away at him silently as he listens to the water hitting the shower walls and Sirius' silence.

The thing that freaked him out, he remembers, was that it was another bloke. He remembers this clearly, both being glad that it didn't freak him out that it was Sirius and being freaked out that it didn't freak him out that it was Sirius. It felt natural, which itself was unnatural, because nothing ever really felt natural for Remus. Even the uncomfortable act of admitting that they were flaming poofs for each other earlier that day had felt vaguely comfortable, as if it was okay because it was Sirius. And so he felt safe walking into the Three Broomsticks with Sirius that night, even if they were in the middle of a dangerous war.

"It's fine," Sirius says, ushering him inside. "I'd protect you, anyway, if anything happened."

"Oh, barf. Don't do that."

Sirius snickers as they head over to their booth. "Just trying to ease you into the idea of you bottoming."

Remus rubs his forehead in exasperation. "Why do you know so much about gay sex? You're barely even gay."

"I'm plenty gay. I have a bloody boyfriend, for Merlin's sake," he says as they slide in across from each other.

"Yeah, and you have for a whole four hours."

Then Sirius' hand slips into his and gives it a tight squeeze, and that alone is enough to shut him up. He wiggles his eyebrows, and Remus feels all of his muscles weaken in a very un-masculine way, but Sirius pulls his hand away in time to keep him from fainting as Madam Rosemerta walks over.

"I hadn't realized they decided to schedule Hogsmeade visits in the middle of the night during weekdays now."

Sirius gives her a charming grin. "I'm here on very important business."

"I see. And what would that be?"

"It's top secret," he tells her.

She gives him a quirky grin, a bit like she's trying to hold it back because even she knows that encouraging Sirius is a bad idea. "I'm sure. You know that you're likely to get expelled if I tell Dumbledore?"

"We're of age," he argues. "And besides, you wouldn't ruin my date like that, would you?"

She looks around the room, searching with furrowed eyebrows for any underage witches that might be accompanying Sirius. Remus clears his throat a bit and Sirius snickers his signature, private laugh again. Her eyes fall back upon them, and she looks suspicious for a moment. "What can I get you?" she asks reluctantly.

"Thought you'd never ask. Just two butterbeers."

Now she's extra suspicious, because Sirius Black does not order a butterbeer when he could get something with a much higher alcohol content, but she doesn't say anything as she summons them from behind the bar and lets Sirius pay for both of them.

"Maybe this'll be easier to hide than we thought," Sirius comments thoughtfully once Madam Rosemerta is out of earshot.

"I think we could've snogged and she wouldn't have gotten it."

"We could try, if you'd like."

Remus thinks that he should probably give some kind of sarcastic area, but then Sirius puts his hand on his knee under the table and any witty joke he might've had drops right out of his head. "Not here," he says instead, quite seriously, as a blush spreads across his cheeks.

Sirius finds himself in the same situation as Remus, his throat drying up as he leans forward in his seat. "Where?" he asks, his voice croaking a bit.

Remus shrugs, a bit embarrassed and unsure, but Sirius' hand is still there, warm and Sirius, and that is enough, that it's Sirius.

He's in the bathroom for a good fifteen minutes after the water stops running, and when he steps out with tired eyes and a worn leather jacket and black jeans, Remus barely recognizes him. He tries to smile, but nothing happens. Instead he stands and waits by the door while Sirius puts his boots on.

"Hog's Head?"

"Doesn't matter. Don't imagine too many people will be around either way."

Sirius shrugs indifferently, and they head outside and then downstairs in the muggle elevator that used to fascinate Sirius but now just makes him sigh and tap his foot, and then they walk outside and turn down an alley. "Ready?" Sirius asks.

"Yeah," He says, and shock ripples through him at the contact of Sirius' hand on his arm as they turn. Which is stupid, he realizes as they appear in front of The Three Broomsticks, considering the way they used to be, but it's been so long since Sirius has so much as touched him. He feels sick, and it's not entirely from apparating.

"You okay?"

"Mhm."

They step inside, and as they sit down in the booth they used every time they came while they were in school, the memories come pouring in. It strikes him that they used to be good memories, but now they just sting like the memory of someone long dead.

"What would you like?" an exhausted Madam Rosemerta asks, walking over.

"I'll have..." Sirius turns to Remus with a half-questioning look, and Remus may feel like he doesn't know Sirius anymore, but he knows this look: are we getting shitfaced? It's lost the hope that it swelled with back when they were in school, but Remus knows those eyes.

"Two butterbeers," he says, and all he can think of is how different that order used to feel while they were in Hogwarts, and he almost turns to Sirius and asks him if he remembers, but he doesn't. He doesn't think he can handle the sting of the "no" that will come, and so he'd rather not know.

"Let's go," Sirius says, standing up and grabbing Remus' hand to tug him along. He is so nervous and flustered that he almost drops his drink as he's pulled out of his seat.

"See you boys later," Madam Rosemerta calls. Sirius appears not to notice, and Remus has long since forgotten how to speak. "Stay safe," she adds.

"Stop blushing," Sirius says, "Or I'm gonna end up ravishing you against the window and Rosemerta'll have a heart attack from the shock."

This, of course, only makes the blush deepen, and Sirius literally, actually groans when he glances at Remus.

"What," Remus mumbles feebly, due a bit to the fact that his body is made of jello at the moment and a bit to his extreme embarrassment.

"S'hot," Sirius says with a sloppy grin that does nothing to help Remus' jelly-like state.

"Sirius," Remus says, and Sirius gives his hand a squeeze.

"Really," he insists, pulling Remus down onto a bench. They sit so close that they are practically in each other's laps, angled into each other against the cold. "You're sexy. You're like my own personal version of those sexy librarian pictures in those muggle magazines."

He laughs. "You do know just how to flatter a bloke, Pads."

"S'true," he says, leaning in a bit. He pulls Remus closer by the red and gold tails of his scarf, and then their foreheads are against each other and Sirius is kissing him, which he did a few times after the awkward fumbling admissions that afternoon, but it's still one of the first, and Remus' heart thuds louder and time seems to slow as Sirius mumbles a soft noise, slipping an arm around Remus' waist. They part reluctantly, out of breath, wonder swimming in both of their eyes.

"Shit," Sirius says. "Why didn't we do this sooner?"

Remus laughs softly, twining his fingers with Sirius. Everything feels so mushy and too romantic, and he tells himself that he hopes things aren't going to be like this all the time just because he's gay now, but on some level he likes it, loves it, even. "We have plenty of time," he tells Sirius, his voice like a warm night in the middle of July. "Plenty."

"I know," Sirius says, nuzzling against Remus' hair gently. "It's freezing. This was dumb."

Remus shakes his head. "Let's just go back," he says. "Not like James or Pete are going to be up. We can still snog in one of our beds."

"Sounds like you have more than snogging in mind," Sirius says, his eyes flashing with their famous look of mischief, and Remus would not be worried, except the last time he got that look the great hall flooded during breakfast the next day.

"One step at a time," he says jokingly, standing up, and Sirius is still grinning one of those heated, mischevous grins when they begin heading back towards the Shrieking Shack hand in hand.

Neither of them speaks until their drinks are empty, and even then it's just one suspicious stare at Remus out of the corner of Sirius' eye. The air feels stale, like a piece of bread left out on the counter too long. Sirius' fingers drum against the counter for a moment, his unfamiliar scars moving up and down. Remus remembers that he used to drum out a rhythm, first his last three fingers three times then his pointer finger twice, then all of his fingers in sequence. He remembers this pissing him off when they were in detention and the room was silent except for the beat of his fingers on the table.

He feels like he's in a silent detention now, except instead of McGonagall, Madam Rosemerta is watching over them, and instead of his boyfriend, a stranger is sitting next to him.

"We could go for a walk," he suggests, because he'd do anything to get out of this silent, burning tension, and Sirius shrugs with about as much enthusiasm as someone asked if they'd like to be led to their execution.

So they head outside, walking a good foot apart, and Sirius digs into his pocket, looking for something. He comes up empty handed and sighs. "Have you got a fag?"

"I stopped smoking about a month ago," Remus says, and he can't keep the bitterness out of his tone. Every drag had been a memory, every smoky exhale a reminder of what they used to be, when they'd kiss under the quidditch bleachers after midnight and Sirius much preferred Remus' mouth to a cigarette, thought there were always a few involved anyway. He'd quit, and Sirius had not said anything, but he'd figured he'd noticed, at least.

But he hasn't judging by the long, evaluating look he gives Remus. "Didn't know," he says simply.

Remus is discouraged by this, but he's not willing to give up. He thinks of all of the years heavy with happiness between them and is determined to get Sirius to talk to him, so he tries again: "Wanna go sit?"

Sirius looks with jaded eyes at the bench they'd snogged on after their first date in the middle of the night seventh year, and he heads towards it without a word. Remus follows, and they sit next to each other, just an inch apart, staring forward.

He regrets the decision as soon as the cold air sweeps around them. It's even worse than in the bar. Sirius shifts uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting a bit, and Remus figures he probably wishes he was at home sleeping, or else back at the bar getting pissed enough to forget all the shit going on.

"So I feel like I haven't seen you in a while."

"We live together," Sirius says as though it's obvious, but Remus glances over at him and can tell by the soft curve of the corner of his lips that he feels the same way.

"When we're both home at the same time."

Sirius gives him a tired half-smile. It's the kind of tired that's really an emotion, and this tugs at Remus' heart in a way that it hasn't been tugged at in a month.

"I've missed you," he says softly, and Sirius looks at him now, really looks at him. His heart surges and something tells him to go for it and he leans in to kiss Sirius.

His lips meet a stubble covered cheek instead. He pulls away feeling infinitely embarrassed, and Sirius himself looks a bit horrified, as if he hadn't expected himself to so blatantly reject something so simple from someone he calls his boyfriend. "Remus-" he says, but they both know that sentence can't end in anything that would be both honest and pleasant, so Remus stands up.

"I'm gonna go," he says. His smile is so forced that he looks a bit deranged. "I'll see you at home later tonight."

Sirius just stares as he turns on the spot and disappears.

"Bugger," Sirius says as they slip into the portrait hole, pulling the cloak off.

"What's wrong?"

"We left our drinks by the bench."

Remus finds it quite amusing that this is what he's thinking about. "I don't care. Wasn't really interested in the butterbeer, to be honest."

Sirius' cool gray eyes turn unreasonably heated, and he nods as Remus tugs his hand up the stairs and towards the entrance to their dormitory. Thankfully, Peter and James do seem to be asleep, and they both undress quietly, grins lingering on their faces. Sirius winks at him as he unbuttons his jeans, making the situation a bit dirtier than Remus had originally preferred, but he blushes and smiles either way. Eventually they both crawl into bed in only their boxers, Remus' bony boy body meshing with Sirius' muscular Quidditch boy body. Sirius makes a noise of content that tears Remus' heart into a million pieces, and they kiss for a few minutes, but then Sirius nuzzles into his ear and murmurs, "M'kinda tired."

"Yeah," Remus says, winding an arm around Sirius' torso. He runs his nails over his back, and Sirius shivers in response.

"Can I stay?"

"Of course," he answers, and Sirius kisses his jaw before making the noise again.

"No hogging the blanket though."

"I'll keep you warm. You don't need a blanket," Sirius says, and Remus pulls away to find him grinning stupidly with his eyes already shut.

"You're an arse," Remus says, and he kisses him, and then he flips over to keep himself from doing it again.

Remus winds up with an arm around his waist and a cold nose pressed into the back of his neck, and he's asleep in seconds.

Remus waits up until one in the morning, but Sirius does not come home.

He flips through an old book for a while, but eventually he give up and crawls into Sirius' side of the bed and has a good cry, and it makes him feel like a ponce, but it also makes him feel better, and that is what he needs.

He can't fall asleep, anyway, and it's not until around three in the morning that his heart finally gives in to exhaustion, and he falls asleep, surrounded by unfamiliar Sirius smell.

Remus wakes up alone. This is normal for the first few seconds, but then he remembers Sirius and cold noses and 3-in-the-morning snogs, and he looks around, but all he finds is a scrap of paper, which he reluctantly picks up and begins to read:

Dearest Moony,

You looked so adorable sleeping, a bit like a little kid, and I couldn't wake you up. But alas, you know how I am if I do not get to breakfast before the bacon runs out, and I didn't want to inflict that kind of torture on everyone else.

Last night was lovely and I probably won't be able to tell you this in person without puking rainbows, and nobody really wants to see that. I'd tell you all of the first date crap like that I've never felt like this before and such cheesy nonsense, but you already know.

Come down to breakfast when you get up. I'll save you some of those maply sausages you like.

Love,

Your sexy and perfect boyfriend,

Padfoot

Remus wakes up at ten in the morning in a cold room with a bad taste lingering in his mouth. He feels hungover despite not drinking, and he rubs his eyes for a good minute before sitting up and inspecting the empty bed beside him.

It is not empty, however, because there is a note, and he dives on it, his hopes rising. They are dashed, however, as soon as he reads:

Went to James'. Going to stay there a while. We can talk about what to do later.

-Sirius

Looked hard for what we'd lost
It was painful to admit it
But we couldn't find a thing
I wanted you to love me like you used to do

This was sad and I wrote a lot of it all at once, which I almost never do lately. Listen to the song! It's good, I promise. Lyrics are from The Mess Inside by the Mountain Goats (hence the title... obviously)