Your skin is something that I stir into my tea
And I am watching you
And you are starry, starry, starry
So many things bore him lately, but there are the valuable exceptions: Remus, with crisp leaves in his hair. Remus, smelling of wet wool scarves and old tea. Remus, dreamy and stellar.
It starts innocently and pristine; the sky is clear and thus he proposes a evening of stargazing ('Oh come on, Remus, nothing can be as dull as doing your Runes homework.').
These things always do start out this way, but when Sirius' beckoning fingers pull him down onto the grass, they forget about the ancient telescope, whose lens are still hopefully adjusted at the sky, on some constellation that looks exactly the same as every other one he's been shown.
'Sirius,' He murmurs, a thin finger pointing past him and towards the sky. It's unnecessary for him to turn his head, he can see the stars reflected in his honey-colored eyes like a glossy photograph. Alpha Canis Majoris situates itself only a centimeter above Remus' pupil, bright and almost crystalline. The constellation dances across his eyesight, unbeknown to Remus and yet reveled by Sirius as he stops momentarily.
While James and Peter sleep soundly like children, the two meld and mold their eager bodies into the velvet sky. They are unearthly creatures of the night, tied ironically to this much too solid world that they're just unable to escape from.
'That's what you're like. The brightest star.'
So many things bore him lately, but there are valuable exceptions: Remus, the beautiful son of Mars, a quiet and subdued star, and lover of Sirius Black.