AN: I wrote this angsty little piece last April… it seems I can only finish stories if they are super-short. Sorry if the ending is too vague…
Ship: Remus/Sirius
Takes Place: The morning and evening of October 31, 1981.
Rating: T just to be safe
Warning: Implied sex between two guys
POV: Sirius, then Remus.
Disclaimer: Do I look like a super famous British genius millionaire?
Feedback: Is orgasmic love
When Sirius first wakes, he does not open his eyes. He deeply fears that what happened last night was a dream, and if he opens his eyes the illusion will be shattered. He will find that that warmth is just his own body heat, that touch is just his blanket, that smell is just his bedclothes.
But then he feels another heart beating in another chest very close to his. He gasps slightly, and what is irrefutably a hand closes around his own.
Sirius screws up his courage, trying to prepare for the immense disappointment of finding he was somehow mistaken, and opens his eyes.
His love—or would it be lover, now?—is there.
Sirius feels the same swoop in his stomach and rush to his head that he felt the first time he saw Remus Lupin. And the first time he realized he loved him. And now, the first time he really knows that Remus loves him back.
"Sirius?" Remus speaks for the first time since…Sirius flushes at the sound of his name. Ridiculous, he thinks. It's like I'm a smitten little boy all over again.
"Mm?" he manages.
"I love you." Remus states simply, not doubting, not melodramatic, just certain. It is all that needs to be said.
Sirius feels a tingle run all the way into his fingers. Must be ecstasy and true happiness, he thinks giddily. Or are those the same thing?
He is silent for a long time. And then he knows. It is just right. No what-ifs, no questions. Just right.
"Remus. I'm going to tell James." Pause. "And Lily, of course, and Pete too… but James first. Because it's just…"
Remus nods. It is all that needs to be said.
The door opens. "Did you tell him?" Remus calls out, too excited and strung out to even say hello.
Silence.
"Sirius?"
Silence. Remus steps into the hall.
"Siri--"
He stops short when he sees him. Sirius has aged a hundred years in one day. His face is haggard and grey, and all the life Remus fell in love with is gone from his eyes.
Remus hears a distant pounding in his ears as a sense of dread envelops him. He tries to ask what happened, but he cannot bring himself to say the words.
Finally, Sirius speaks. His voice is thick, gruff, harsh, cold. All things from his family he tried to reject, Remus thinks desperately. He does not want to hear these words. This morning, he loved the words from Sirius's mouth. Now, he'd do anything to be deaf.
He does not want to hear these words. But he does.
"I couldn't tell him."
No. It can't mean that.
"Well, then fine, I'll do it, I mean--" Remus croaks out nearly hysterically, grabbing at straws.
Sirius's voice is as dead as his eyes, his spirit, his ecstasy. Dead, as everything is now. "No, Remus. I couldn't tell him."
It is all that needs to be said.