Sirius Black hated being still. He had hated it ever since childhood, when he had to stand still for his beatings, or they would be twice as long. Remus Lupin knew this, yet here he was. Sirius knew Remus wanted a natural pose for the sketch he was doing: that was why he had snuck up while Sirius had been watching out the window and thinking about his family. But Sirius knew just as well that if he moved now, the drawing would remain unfinished. And Remus loved sketching Sirius. So he stayed still, for the only man that could keep him that way.
"You can move now. I know you want to. Thank you." Sirius relaxed and moved to Remus' side. Things after Hogwarts hadn't been going well for the werewolf. Sirius could barely make the rent with his job, and food for the two of them was scarce. Remus, due to his lycanthropy, couldn't get or hold a job, no matter how hard he tried, so Sirius was the only one bringing in money. Remus felt immensely guilty for this state of affairs, but Sirius had never blamed him.
"What do you think?" Remus asked, holding the paper up for inspection. His amber eyes burned Sirius' face. The sketch was perfect: it captured everything—the tension, the anger, the pain—and somehow made Sirius still seem calm.
"It's great," Sirius whispered into Remus' ear as he gently wrapped his arms around the thin blond. Remus was trembling.
"You didn't get the job." It was a statement. Sirius knew already, but it had to be said.
"No, I'm sorry. I tried."
"It will be alright. I promise," Sirius murmured into Remus' shoulder, drawing circles on his stomach with thin fingers.
"How can it be?! We have no food! I've seen you grow skinnier and skinnier every day, Sirius! You're starving! I can't do this to you anymore!" Remus exclaimed with tears in his eyes. Sirius watched helplessly as the other man pushed away from him and stormed from the apartment. Despair gripped him and he stood at the window, watching for Remus. He was as still as a statue, waiting desperately. Remus did not return.
Two days later, Remus came back to the small apartment. Sirius was asleep, but still upright, slumping heavily against the wall. He was thinner than ever and his hair looked as if it hadn't been washed in days. Remus felt a surge of guilt for doing this to his lover, and he tasted bile. Chocking it back, he helped the other man into bed before laying down himself.
"You're back." Remus was watching Sirius, and though the hoarse voice reached out to Remus, those beautiful eyes remained closed.
"Yes." The grey eyes opened and Remus' breathing paused, if only for a second. He loved Sirius' eyes.
"Why?"
"I can't keep on hurting you, Sirius. I feel terrible. But even more than that, I can't stay away from you. You know that."
"I—I was worried, Remus. I thought you wouldn't come back." Remus could see how much this admission pained Sirius.
"I'm sorry to make you worry."
"Where did you go?"
"I went to my father." Remus looked away from Sirius. Sirius said nothing.
"He gave me some money. Not much, but enough."
"We don't need that, Remus."
"But we do. You won't admit how bad things are for us."
"Things are fine." There was an edge to Sirius' passive tone.
"Your savings are almost gone." Sirius was silent again. Remus knew that Sirius hadn't wanted him to know, to worry. But the issues had to be faced sometime or another.
"Just take it, please. For us, Sirius. For everything we are."
"For us then, Remus." Those words brought hope to Remus' mind. Money might not be everything, but it was enough to matter. Now that they had some, perhaps things would be better for the two--no, not perhaps. Remus would make sure things got better. Everything would be okay.
Sirius was taken to Azkaban two days later.