Cast: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black.
Warnings: Implied M/M.
Notes: For Sheafrotherdon on the occasion of her birthday. I spent days upon days in the Scottish Highlands, wandering around the places mentioned in this ficlet, and I doubt I'll ever forget what they looked, and, more importantly, felt like.
Summary: "And for a moment in time I could feel."

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AND FOR A MOMENT
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The glass fogs with his breath when he leans forward and rests his hand on the sill. On the other side of the glass, the thin-stemmed harebells bend in the breeze, but Remus's eyes are focussed beyond, past his grandmother's garden and across Loch Leven, to where the hovering mist curls like smoke rings around the swells of Doire Ban.

Sirius's cheek is still pillow-creased, but he's managed to make himself otherwise presentable in record time, even if there are toast crumbs scattered across the table and a small explosion of clothing around his suitcase. Remus turns to retrieve his umbrella from the table on his way out the door, but Sirius's hand is locked around his wrist, and the latch clicks shut behind them. He eyes the clouds waiting on the horizon, and hopes.

It's a long walk, along the crumbling pavement with grass growing up through the cracks, through the town of Ballachulish and toward Glencoe. A weather-battered signpost announces the parish of Tigphuirst, but as far as Remus can tell the entire population seems to be made up of a small flock of sheep, plus one grey-and-white barn cat. It hisses when he gets too close.

"What did you want to be when you grew up?" asks Sirius. "When you were a kid." Two pairs of bare feet navigate the shallow water beneath the bridge over the river Coe.

Remus occupies himself with plucking tide-smoothed stones from the banks, and shrugs. "Everyone wanted to be something," Sirius presses, and the way his voice trails off makes it clear that he's waiting, despite the way he concentrates on spearing the riverbed with the sharpened end of a stick.

"If I say a librarian, will you leave me alone?"

"No," Sirius says. "Race you to the other side."

Far be it for either to refuse a challenge, and for a time there's only splashing, with laughter, echoing under the bridge.

The first droplet hits Remus's arm, and the second, his face. "Home," he decides, and Sirius only protests a little before scrambling up the bank. By the time they're halfway back, it's pouring, and Remus thinks that the rain has seeped through his clothes and into his skin deep enough that he'll never be dry again.

"This is your fault," Sirius decides. "If you'd brought your umbrella it wouldn't have rained."

"If you'd let me reach it, I would have."

They sprint, trainers squelching and water running into their eyes, until they're throwing open the cottage door and flinging themselves inside, trailing watery footsteps across the kitchen. "She's gone to Fort William, with Mum," Remus reads from the note on the table, and peels off his socks.

Dried and changed, he sprawls on the sofa, blanket pulled up over his legs. There are spots of water on Sirius's shirt when he reappears in the hall, and his hair is still dripping. "You're wet," Remus says.

"So're you."

Remus reaches behind his neck, grasping the balled-up terrycloth he'd been using as a pillow and throwing it directly at Sirius's face. "At least I know how to use a towel." He lifts the edge of the blanket, and Sirius nearly knocks the wind out of him as he flops, wiggling his way between Remus and the back of the sofa. Remus sucks in a breath when ice-cold fingers work their way under his shirt; he watches Sirius out of the corner of his eye, but Sirius only nudges Remus's neck with his nose, tucking his hands against Remus's sides.

One hand is still chilled when he moves it to settle on Remus's chest, but there is warmth, too, coming from somewhere Remus can sense instead of feel. "They'll be home soon," he says, sleepily, somewhat annoyed at his practical side for reminding him.

"Five more minutes. And the key in the lock'd wake you in time, anyhow."

"Mmm. All right."

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Soundtrack:
Secret Garden - Greenwaves

2005.10.15