They have a large bed in the bedroom.

It's very wide, and very long, and could comfortably fit another person or two. Sirius likes to spread out on the bed, stretching himself out, unable to touch both ends of the mattress.

Remus doesn't like it much. Sure, it's easy for when they slip into bed, enough space on either side for them to get comfortable, a sea of blankets and pillows that they can lose themselves in, but...

Remus would much rather lose himself in Sirius, though he never says so.

Sirius seems happy with the bed. When they fuck they have enough room to move around, enough room to roll the other over and not have to worry about toppling over the side. And afterwards, when they're sated, Sirius can move aside and stretch out without bumping into Remus. Then he can roll over and fall asleep, seemingly on his own bed, unconcerned with where his limbs are placed, knowing he has so much space all to himself.

Remus has grown to hate the bed.

He likes it when they're in the study, and Sirius suddenly decides he wants him, and drags him over to the couch, the couch that's against the wall, the small, narrow couch that they can both just fit on. When they get on the couch they can't fuck - they can only make love. Slow and gentle and wonderful, everything Remus wants and rarely gets. Sirius can't go too hard or too fast, there's not enough room. There's only enough space for them to gently move together, a quiet whisper of skin against skin. Afterwards Sirius has no choice but to curl up next to Remus, his arms wrapped around him to prevent himself from falling off the side of the couch.

It's then that Remus can pretend that he's happy. It's then that he can pretend that Sirius feels for him the way he feels for Sirius - that Sirius wants to hold him, wants to really love him, wants to comfort him and make sure he's always safe, always protected. It's when Remus' back is pressed against the wall, and Sirius body is half-draped over his, that he can let himself imagine it'll always be this way... that even when they go back to the big bed, Sirius will be gentle and soft and will pull Remus into his arms afterwards. Remus knows better than to imagine Sirius whispering words of love, but sometimes he can imagine those arms around him when he wakes up, those blue eyes gazing at him as he opens his own.

But when they got back to the big bed and Remus wakes, all he sees is the distance between them. The ever growing gap that separates them - so close yet so far. The sheets are cold betweem them, their bodies apart, Sirius' back facing Remus. He wants to move closer, to slide his arms around Sirius' waist, to press against him and know that Sirius will turn around and hold him, will wrap his arms around him and kiss him and tell him that everything's alright, that he loves him and only him, that he wants to spend the rest of his life just holding him.

Remus can't allow himself to dream to often though. He knows that when he wakes up they'll be apart, each on either side of the large bed.

And no matter how far he reaches, he can't quite get ahold of Sirius.