I got bored on Tumblr. This happened. Dedicated to eudaemonia-in-love, for being a great person.
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Their rented cottage in London is a dingy, little, run-down place. The ceiling drips, the tiles on the floor are peeling, and the muggle Air-Conditioner that Remus used his first few paychecks to buy gives out on the freezing cold days. Sirius absolutely hates the one bedroom, one bath, and suspects Remus to hate it, too, but its located perfectly. It's in the middle of Bristol, halfway between London and Godric's Hollow, and has a cellar for the cruel Full Moon nights and a fireplace for Floo calls.
Sirius is out of a job, ("I can donate all of my time to the Order, and to you, Moony! It's great!" "You expect us to live off of my salary?" "Godric, no! The money Uncle Alfred left will hold out until this war is over.") and Remus works writing for the Quibbler. At least, Sirius hopes to whatever God is up there that Remus does.
There is a spy in the Order Of The Phoenix.. The fact is undeniable, and Remus is gone. At almost all hours of the day. Every bloody day!
Wartime in 1981 is not a good time for young love. Young homosexual love? Not a chance. Sirius can feel himself drifting from Remus as the search for the spy continues. Voldemort is after James, Lily, and Harry. Peter is after his old, suck mum. Sirius knows that he isn't the spy. That leaves Remus, but he can't believe it. His Moony would never betray the Order, never betray the Marauders, never betray HIM!
Your Moony is also a Dark Creature, the treacherous Black part of his mind supplies.
He hears the front door open, and Remus brings himself into the living room. Remus's feet drag, and Sirius runs out to meet him, panic evident.
He's right to be panicked.
Remus is limping; something he refuses to do in front of others on principle. He's bleeding profusely from his right temple, streaks of crimson running down his face. He seems to have opened a wound on his left arm, because his long-sleeved white shirt is stained in one large circle on the sleeve where, after hours studying the anatomy of his Moony, Sirius knows there is a huge, puckered scar in the shape of a wolf's bite. His eyes are tired, his jaw is set, and his voice is gravelly.
"Hello," he says, and promptly faints.
Remus lands on the rough rug with a resounding thump. As Sirius rushes over, frantically, to help him, he wonders how Remus can still be so beautiful whilst lying in a broken mass on the floor. The calico-coloured scrap of fabric below him is covered in dust, tracked in by hundreds of footsteps prior to the most recent footfalls, and is being stained, yet again, by the bloodflow from Remus' head. Sirius doesn't have time to brood on the sharp, disgustingly beautiful, contrast of dull, pink scars, pale skin, smudged by sickening red that any artist would long to capture on a canvas, the creepy gits that they are.
He has a job to do.
His heart is pounding, but he forces the erattic thumping, which signals his emminent panic, to the back of his mind.
"Episkey is a complex charm," Madam Pomfrey had told him as he watched her patch Remus up after a particularly bad Full in third year, "and if not performed with a steady hand and a clear mind, will prove to be equally as dangerous as a wound, itself."
He grabs his wand from the arse pocket of his muggle trousers ("Jeans!" Lily had almost shouted, smiling exuberantly at him when he first wore them in Godric's Hollow) and aims it at the head wound, pretending it isn't His Moony lying in an odd position on the floor.
"E- Episkey," he says, startled by how his voice sounds so controlled when inwardly, he's sputtering and shaking. (And sobbing, although he would never admit it to himself)
Remus makes a noise, though Sirius can't tell if it is a grunt of pain or a sigh of relief.
Sirius's gaze falls immediately to the arm of Remus's white shirt.
It's Remus' favorite, one that Sirius bought for him way back in seventh year, so Sirius can't rip it off. He undoes the buttons on the garment, fingers fumbling slightly, and opens it to reveal Remus's chest. There is a red mark, most likely where he was hit by a spell (though Sirius doesn't want to know which) that will bruise. He goes about removing Remus's arms from the sleeves gently, as if the other man is a china doll. He cradles Remus's head in his lap, maneuvering the soft fabric off of his body.
Sirius' eyes move to his- well, he and Remus don't have a word for eachother, because boyfriend is entirely TOO poufy for their tastes and 'lover' is just… eugh!- to Remus's left arm, and is pleased to see that they bite mark on his arm is only bleeding slightly now, clotting having done it's job.
"Episkey."
The wound closes. Remus sighs, this time in obvious relief.
Sirius lifts the other man in his arms ("Sirius! Put me down!" Remus told him as he ran towards the Black lake, just before they were due to ride the Hogwart's express for the last time. "If you throw me in, I will hex your bollocks into another Galaxy!") and carries him to their bedroom. He sets Remus down on the bed.
Sirius runs to the loo, grabs a wash towel, and dampens it. They cloth is cold in his hands. The water heater must have given out again. He brings it to Remus, moves the fringe off of his forehead, and starts to clean off the dry blood. Remus's hair is matted, so he casts Scorgify on the light brown strands.
He puts the wash cloth in the pile of clothes due to be laundered, then goes to find Remus some pajamas. He steps in front of their mahogany dresser (stolen from the Blacks, one drunken night with the Marauders) and grabs a pair of flannels.
He could wake Remus, he supposes. Enneverate would work, but he cant bring himself to wake him. Now is the time for Moony to rest. The questions can come later, and Sirius can dress him now.
He eases Moony's legs into the pajamas, careful to to disturb him, and brings them up. The ties the string at Remus's hips enough to keep them up, but not enough to cause him any pain. The shirt is easier to work with, and comes on quickly.
The air conditioner/heater/clothes drier isn't working, so he casts a heating charm. He gets up to leave he room, but is stopped by a whimper.
"S-siri," Remus says in a tiny voice, "Stay. Please."
Its funny how three words can render me defenseless, Sirius thinks as he lies down.