"Sirius?" Remus whispered into the dark flat. His eyes strained in the darkness as he quietly shut the front door behind himself.
"Remus." A hoarse voice. Nothing like what Remus remembered. It sounded nothing like the young and handsome Sirius Black that Remus saw in his dreams every single night. Their brief meeting in the Shrieking Shack had been quick. There wasn't spare time for noticing things. Like how a fearful decade in Azkaban had turned Sirius' voice from a silken confidence to a ragged tremor. Remus was almost afraid to turn the lights on and see just how different his Sirius was. But he did. With a wave of his wand, Remus lit the apartment. Out of the shadows came the man that he had seen in the Shrieking Shack.
The two stood and simply looked at each other, noting the differences that time had brought. The waxy skin, pulled too tight over sharp, jutting cheek bones. It was an unhealthy yellow hue. Not his Sirius, with his sun-kissed skin, practically glowing from the many hours outside playing Quidditch. A haggard shell of who he once was. Just skin and bones. Remus swallowed heavily before he looked at the man's eyes. A spark flickered inside of him.
"Sirius?" Another whisper. Unbelieving. Remus saw the stormy gray eyes. Those eyes took his breathe away, made it catch in his throat. He knew those eyes. He had spent most of his youth gazing into them, loving them and the man that they belonged to. His Sirius.
Remus shook his head, they couldn't just stand there in the hallway all day long,
"You'll probably want to get out of those," Remus paused and gestured to the filthy tattered Azkaban prison attire, "...clothes." Remus took a small step forwards, fumbling nervously with hands. "I think I might still have a few of your things around-"
"I found some of my old things in the closet, Remus." Sirius' voice was soft. He eyed the taller man knowingly. Remus' face burned red. Those eyes, they always saw right through his lies. He sighed,
"Right...make yourself at home, then." After a moment Sirius walked away. Remus heard him speak softly,
"It is my home."
It took three days for the past to catch up to them. Three tense days of cautionary behavior, awkward conversation and stolen glances. It was their third morning together. Remus passed Sirius a plate of scrambled eggs, their fingers brushed and Remus' hand jerked away instinctively. Sirius sighed. He dropped the plate loudly onto the tabletop and fixed Remus with a hard stare.
"How long are you going to pretend that this is nothing? That there's nothing between us? That there never was?"
