They're laying side-by-side on the small four poster bed, their grown-man legs and grown-man bodies too big to fit comfortably, but they make it work.
Remus doesn't think he would ever really complain about being draped over Sirius, but the warmth they're sharing is becoming suffocating, sweltering beneath the heavy red curtains.
He doesn't dare let go. Doesn't dare let go of this boy, this man, this beautiful dark-haired man who's pressed up against his chest, head settled beneath Remus's chin with shoulders shaking lightly.
Remus holds in his hands the pieces of one of the most commanding boys in the school, and he desperately wants to put him back together.
So he does, with tender kisses to his forehead, cheeks, nose, neck.
With gentle hands that slide under a shirt for the warmth of skin-against-skin, fingertips dancing across a broad back with lean muscles.
With soft words whispered hot against tear-stained cheeks and delicate ears, "You deserve better", "We can face this together", "I love you."
With silence and the beat of his heart, because he knows it calms Sirius to hear it.
And when Sirius raises his head, tear-glazed, all those shattered pieces of him that were thrown to the ground when his parents kicked him out were together again. Not very well, perhaps, the edges were rough and the bindings weak, he would scar, but they were there.
Sirius would be stronger for it.
And Remus would be there, ready to repair any damage incurred as they rode through this life together.