A/N: For Mount Potter (6/55, prompt: flame).
They sit the common room, watching the flames dance in the fireplace. Neither speak for several minutes. It's maddening to Sirius who is made of nothing but noise and reckless energy.
Sirius wants to speak, but, for once, he's a coward. How can he be worthy of Gryffindor when he's trembling right now, too afraid of the boy sitting beside him, the boy whose hands and heartbeat Sirius knows better than his own.
He'd almost made that boy into a murderer. Snape's blood would have been forever stained into Remus' skin if James hadn't intervened. Maybe Snape deserved it. But not Remus, never Remus.
"I'm sorry," Sirius whispers at last, and he's surprised when he feels tears roll down his cheeks. He can't remember starting to cry. He never cries. "I'm so sorry, Moony."
Remus doesn't speak. His arm wraps around Sirius' shoulder. Sirius knows the warm weight so well. He has Remus memorized, every inch of him. But now it's more crushing than comforting.
Sirius buries his face in his lover's chest, crying freely for the first time in his memory. He's pathetic. Remus is the one who should be emotional. Remus is the one whose life was nearly ruined for the sake of a good laugh. But it's Sirius who breaks, who allows himself to completely shatter because Remus knows how to mend the broken pieces.
Remus' arms fold around him, pulling him close until there's no space left between them. The flames crackle, and slowly they go back into the comfortable silence, watching the fireplace with heavy eyes, no sound interrupting save for the out of sync rhythm of their hearts.
