Title: A
little less than magic.
Pairing: Remus/Sirius.
Disclaimer: I wish.
Summary: Sometimes Sirius
watches the stars. Sometimes Remus lets him.
------
He'd sit, sometimes, on a night, and watch the grounds light up with stars and silence. It was uncomfortable, the way the window ledge dug thick angry lines into his lower back and thighs, but he'd shift, and stare, and tuck his feet up under his hands and it would be okay.
"Do you ever wonder if anyone thinks about us?" he'd ask, and Remus, snuggled behind blankets and sleep, would stumble towards him and nod. And it would all be a haze. A wonderful haze of black and white and grey with a thin dusting of freckles as he looked past Sirius's neck and smiled.
"All the time, I imagine." he would reply. And arms would find shoulders.
He'd sigh, Sirius, a few moments later, when the skin tickled and he couldn't join the light in the right places.
"Do you think any of the muggles, I mean -" he'd whisper, shake his head and then bite barely at the corner of his lip just as Remus tried not to whimper at the sight of the moon; "Do you think any of them ever think about how much better life would be if it were more magical?"
"Yes."
They'd tighten their grip then and pray that dawn didn't come before their chests stopped aching.
"Sirius?" Remus would say, "Sirius?"
He'd turn and keep watch of clouds gathering ahead.
"Do you ever wish your life was more magical?"
And he'd smirk. And tilt his head. And their jaws would catch with breath, knotted in their throats.
"All the time." he'd smile.
They'd never stay to watch the sun rise but they'd feel the veil of warmth through bed curtains and fingerprints and their lips never quite met at the right time, but with heads spilling over pillows, and hips aching against stomachs, they fell half in love with the idea.
And they didn't seem to mind anymore then.