Their ability to confide in each other had been what founded the relationship. What Sirius told James and Peter about his parents and life at Grimmauld Place only scraped the surface. It might have been James who opened his door that summer's night to find Sirius on the other side of it, broken but strangely relieved having seen the last of what had only ever been a prison. But it was Remus who heard the worst of it. After the full moon, when Sirius took him for being only half-conscious, Remus heard all about the wounds his parents had inflicted upon him and the scars he bore because of it, metaphorically speaking of course.
Their ability to make sense through words solely in the company of the other was the spring from which affection flowed. And yet he and Sirius hadn't so much as said an honest word to each other in a long time. Remus credited the war for the distance that formed between them. He blamed the long nights apart, when Sirius was Merlin-knows-where and he was preparing for his next encounter with more of his kind.
But it had nothing to do with the war. It was all about them. Sirius and Remus. Padfoot and Moony. Two friends who would rather die than betray each other, yet couldn't help but stumble along the path towards betrayal regardless. The first stroke had been in their fifth year, when Sirius had sent Snape down the dangerous path to the Shrieking Shack. It was but a small mercy that Remus couldn't remember anything of that night, whether he'd come face to face with the Slytherin in werewolf form or all too close to snuffing out the life from his lungs with venomous claws. It was that initial act of betrayal which defined each one to follow.
Remus' hands were anything but clean. He was by no means innocent. He betrayed Sirius with every full moon when he allowed the animagus in the wolf's presence. Time and time again, Remus put Sirius in danger, knowing full well that he could rip him to shreds at even the slightest provocation. It didn't matter that he hadn't as of yet, only that he could.
At times, Remus could forget. At times he could forget that with all that affection and want and yearning and glorious, unadulterated love, there was also guilt and hurt and snide remarks when information was concealed or when "I love you" just wasn't enough. He could forget that betrayal came as easily to them as desire.
There was a clock on whatever was between them but only Remus heard it tick. There were times when he could drown it out and yet others where it transformed into a violent beat, pounding against his chest and weighing on his shoulders. It flooded his senses and robbed him of every shred of common sense. It made it even more difficult to hear the words that were left unspoken, that in itself being a betrayal of their entire relationship; Remus and Sirius might be lacking in many ways but never had they had felt such an intense inability to relate to the other.
It was one of those rare occasions where Sirius and James were met with little resistance when they joined forces and demanded that the Marauders and Lily meet at the pub. In truth, the pub was just a pub like any other in London. It was a muggle pub, the only kind remaining that hadn't been touched by the war. It was a short walk from Peter's, a long walk from Sirius and Remus' flat and a quick trip by apparition from James and Lily's. If Lily were able to drink, Remus suspected they might have been there a great deal longer. As it was, she was herded home by a very protective boyfriend after a pint and a quick game of muggle darts (and Remus wouldn't blame him given the fact that, despite the night's events, there was still a war on). Peter had drunk himself under the table by then anyway, so after dropping him off at his flat Remus and Sirius were soon on their way home too.
And for almost the entire walk home - with the exception of a mumbled suggestion that he ought to have brought the bike - Sirius didn't say a word.
Walking along the curb of the pavement, Sirius' eyes lingered on the ground a few steps ahead of him, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. He was quiet, pensive, brooding; Remus knew better than to leave Sirius in this state.
"Sirius.." The streets were empty, as was to be expected given that it was nearing the early hours of the morning. Remus' voice broke the silence that was looming over their surroundings, looming over them.
"Mmh," Sirius replied, not so much as looking up from his path. Instead, he kicked an empty can that had obstructed his path, sending it coursing down the deserted road with a tinny rattle.
The steady tick of the clock had followed him ever since they had left the bustling atmosphere of the pub. Remus forced it to out of earshot. Rotating so that he was now walking backwards, Remus confirmed that they were as alone as one could be on the street at night. An uncertain smile crossed his lips before he once more broke the silence, his eyes trained on Sirius.
"It's been a… Loooong, loong.. long time."
There was a moment in which, once more, silence slipped over them like a veil. Then, an eyebrow cocked that Remus had chosen this moment to break into song, Sirius finally lifted his gaze to meet Remus.
"How could I.. ever have lost you. Okay, Pads, forgive my inability to hold a tune."
The sound of Remus' laughter was enough to tempt a devilish smirk back onto those luscious lips that Sirius so cruelly possessed.
"When I loved you.."
"Fuck off, Remus," Sirius laughed, giving his boyfriend in all but name a slight shove.
"It took a loong, long, long time.. Now I'm so happy I found you-"
Only then Remus couldn't sing because Sirius' lips were locked on his, his back pressed against the cold brick of whatever building they'd been passing at the time, those familiar fingers weaving a path in his hair. And he was filled with that feeling that made everything else seem petty and insignificant.
How I love you.
The ticking hadn't ceased. Time was running out, be it because of the war or because he and Sirius couldn't help but annoy the hell out of each other. Each tick brought Remus closer to losing Sirius entirely and he knew it. But in that brief moment in which Sirius relaxed and melted against him, when he was so painfully exposed to the warmth and the strength that emanated from him so beautifully, it didn't matter.
The tick tock of the clock paled in comparison to the beat of Sirius' heart, utterly welcome against his chest.