Sounds to His Summer

by lunettawolf321

Sirius knew Remus would be surprised when he showed up on his doorstep one morning during the Summer holidays before their seventh year at Hogwarts. He'd planned on it, actually. What starts as a day filled with fun and music, eventually turns into one where his biggest secret will be revealed. What will Remus say when he finds out the truth? Wolfstar Oneshot. Warnings in A/N.

Hello! So this oneshot is technically my second time writing for the HP fandom, but the first story I ever wrote has long since been deleted so that one doesn't really count anymore. In any case, this is the first Wolfstar fic I've ever written, so I hope I did these two characters justice. If you want, let me know your thoughts! If not, that's okay, just sit back and enjoy the story. :)

I want to give a warning that there are slight references to child abuse and underage drinking in this fic. So, if anything like that is not something you like to read, please take care of yourself if you choose to continue with this story.

There are several songs listed throughout the story. I'm not going to name them up here, because I don't want to spoil anything. I'll just issue a blanket disclaimer: I do not own any rights to any songs listed below, nor do I own anything of Harry Potter.

"Happy Birthday!"

This was the greeting Sirius gave Remus when the boy opened the door to the small cottage he and his parents called home. Admittedly not the best way to say hello, but Sirius had wanted to sound charming and funny and after spending several hours trying to come up with something, his brain fell short and settled with that. The house was exactly as he'd pictured it from the stories Moony would tell about his summers at home- weathered white stone, a gray shingled roof, two worn steps that led up to the faded front door with blue, chipped paint. There was a chimney to his right and on his left a row of windows swung open to let in a breeze. Verdant vines twisted up and down its front, like long green snakes, so thick in parts he couldn't see the wall through them. All around the edge of the house were bushes and overflowing flower beds- deep purple lilac, red roses the size of his hand, white and yellow yarrow, and pretty orange calendula just some of the plants he could name, but there were plenty more he couldn't. Their smell was overpoweringly sweet, like a heady wine in the summer heat. It tickled his nose and throat the way the greenhouses at Hogwarts always did. He could see a few odd knickknacks sitting on the windowsills; hand-painted clay animals, a small bowl with lapis lazuli and rose quarts, and several potted plants. There was music playing somewhere in the house. The singer's voice floated out to him like a feather on the wind- Joni Mitchell's "A Case Of You," he recognized. Sirius soaked everything in, like a greedy sponge that hadn't tasted water in years. The sounds, the smells, every crack along the house's walls, the way Remus's curls fluffed up like he's just gotten out of bed, and his dark green pajamas that brought out the pale color of his eyes. He memorized it all, because this was a side of Moony he hadn't seen before.

In what was most likely sheer luck, but what he considered incredible skill, Sirius had arrived precisely when he'd planned to- early enough that he'd catch his friend before he could get too busy with his day, but not so early that he might piss the boy off. Moony was always a bit of a grump before he got his breakfast in him. Remus, on his part, looked properly confused.

"What- Padfoot? It's July."

"Yea, so?"

"You know my birthday's in March."

"So I'm a little late. Can't you just pretend?" Sirius placed his hands on his hips and said in a sing-song voice, "I got you a present."

This seemed to nullify whatever remark Remus had been about to make. He raised an eyebrow at him instead and leaned all his weight on the door frame, arms crossed across his chest. Sirius wondered if he looked as cool whenever he tried to do that. He thought so, because the girls at school always fluttered their eyelashes at him when he did, but he didn't think it made him look as quite as handsome as Moony at the moment. "Oh, what is it?"

"This." Sirius grinned, and pulled from his pocket a crumpled up flyer with big block lettering. He smoothed it out on his knee as best he could, and then held it up to Remus for the boy to inspect. Moony took it from him carefully, eyes skimming the words on it slowly.

"What's this for?"

"Live Music! My new neighbor told me about this pub she goes to that has bands play on weekends. She said she's seen this one a few times and they're good."

If there was anything he and Remus shared that their other friends just didn't understand, it was their love of music. Sure, James and Peter listened to music from time to time and they hopped around whenever their favorite songs would play, but it didn't speak to them the way it did him and Moony. Music was Sirius's window into what life could really be about- love, heartbreak, freedom. It told him he was meant for more than the life his parents had planned out for him. He didn't have to fear he'd one day spiral down into the darkness of his own soul. That he could make his own choices and be whoever the hell he wanted to be. He remembered how he used to sneak away from Grimmauld Place so he could wander throughout London and linger outside open shop doors or press his face against the windows, just to get a chance to listen to the music drifting out from their radios and record players. Music made him feel alive, and he knew Remus felt the same. Moony would talk about the boxes of records his mother kept throughout every room of their house, how if she didn't have a song playing, she filled the quiet in their home with her own singing. Sirius listened hungrily, and admittedly a little jealously, to these stories because his own Mother would rather curse his ears off than let him play a singe note of muggle music in their house.

"What's this band play?"

"Punk music. I know you prefer folk rock, but you've got to expand your horizons, Moonykins."

Remus rolled his eyes. "I like punk too, you prat. So is my present supposed to be the flyer or- why are you giving me a present anyway? You already got me something, in March, on my actual birthday. "

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. That cake, remember?"

"That doesn't count." Sirius frowned. He did remember that cake- a simple one layer chocolate one with red icing that spelled out "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" in too large letters so it looked a little cramped. He'd sneaked down to the kitchens after dinner the night of Remus's birthday and asked the house-elves to make it for him. They'd done all the hard work, but they'd let him write the words on it himself. Remus had said he loved it, and the four of them had devoured it that night in the dormitory, but it wasn't what Sirius had wanted to get him for his birthday. What he'd wanted didn't really matter though, because he didn't have any money to buy his friend a gift. At the time he was completely broke, not a single knut to his name, all because his parents had cut him off for being a blood-traitor and a disgrace to the family. Not that he cared. Being penniless was worth it as long as he never had to go back to that hell hole and all the evil inside it. But he still felt bad handing over that cake to Remus, even though the boy had gushed about how good it looked and had even given him a hug as a "thank you." James had told him over and over again in the weeks before to just write his mother for some money. Euphemia and Fleamont Potter loved Sirius like a second son and they would happily give him whatever he needed, but Sirius couldn't bring himself to do it. The Potter's were good to him. They took him in, no questions asked, when he showed up on their doorstep in the middle of the night at sixteen years old, soaked and trembling from the rain and with a black eye he didn't have the energy to hide. He didn't want to use them, and even though he knew they would say he was being ridiculous, he couldn't help but feel like asking them for anything when they'd already done so much was doing just that.

But, he thought, I don't have to worry about that now. He may have not been very close to him, but somehow he'd found a way into his Uncle Alphard's heart, because the man had left Sirius a rather nice-sized inheritance in his will. He was thankful for the old codger, because now he could afford his own tiny flat, and the motorbike he'd been dreaming of for years now, and he could give his best mate a proper birthday gift.

He realized Remus was speaking to him, with the look of someones who's had to explain the same thing to the same person five times. "It does too count. How many times do I have to say you don't have to buy me anything. I love that you thought to get me something at all."

He did remember Remus saying this, and after talking himself down from all the expensive things he immediately thought to get him as a late gift, he settled for something much more likely to be Moony-approved. "I'm not buying you anything. I can't buy a band. Do you know how expensive that would be? I've a monthly budget I have to keep to, you know."

"Then what-"

"I'm taking you to see them!" Sirius interrupted, because he couldn't contain his excitement any longer. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, hands shoved into his trouser pockets so he wouldn't wave them around as he spoke. "I thought we'd ride around for a bit, and then I'd buy us lunch- oh, I guess I am buying something. Ignore that- but then we'd pop over to London and listen to them play. A fun day with your best mate! How great of a present is that? Much better than just some cake!"

The smile Remus gave him made his face feel hot. It always did whenever he gave it to him. It was just so soft and fond. No one ever really smiled at him like that. No one except Moony. "I think it sounds like the greatest present."

"So, you'll come?"

"As long as Mam's alright with it. I was supposed to help her can vegetables today."

He invited Sirius inside, but told him to wait by the door so he could go ask about leaving. Sirius stood there as patiently as he could, trying to politely ignore the murmuring voices just a few feet away that seemed oddly loud now that the record player had been stopped, but it was hard when he was practically vibrating with anticipation. Merlin, he hoped she said yes. A whole day of Remus all to himself? He couldn't ask for more.

So the thing about him- and it's a thing he's admitted out loud, at least to James in the late-night, quiet darkness of the Potter's kitchen as they munched on biscuits and sipped on tea they spiked when Mrs. Potter wasn't looking- was that he was a taker. That was the best way he could describe it. He stole things all the time- moments, mind you, not physical things. And they were always with Remus. Letting himself fall asleep in the Gryffindor common room instead of just going up to his dorm so he could rest his head on Moony's shoulder, pretending he still hadn't done his homework so he could sit quietly with him in the library, making sure to save the spot across from him at the table in the Great Hall whenever Remus ran late getting to meals so he'd give him that same smile he'd swear was reserved just for him; he selfishly stole all these moments and more. He filed them away, desperately, pathetically, so that when he was alone he could pick them apart piece by piece, searching for signs that deep down he knew weren't there. It was so easy to pretend, so easy to take, because he didn't know what else to do.

Because no matter how many times he'd tried to get over it, or how many boys whose hands he let wander, or fawning girls with soft skin and even softer lips he snogged in empty classrooms until he got bored- he couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop the taking. Because the truth was, he was in love with Remus Lupin. And it was the worst thing he thought could ever happen to him.

Maybe he was overreacting. James did like to tell him he was too dramatic sometimes. But that was honestly how he felt about the whole situation. And it was such cliché nonsense too, falling in love with your best friend. James told him that was rubbish, that most people would see it as romantic, but Sirius said he only thought that because his parents told him they'd been friends at Hogwarts before they got married. And it was different for him, because Remus didn't, couldn't, wouldn't love him back. It was impossible. So instead, Sirius was stuck taking things he had no right to, all the while trying to ignore how hard his heart beat when Remus touched him, and how sweaty his palms got when he lingered too close for too long, and how all summer long all he could think about was how much he missed him. His quiet, kind, yet devilishly-wicked, unfairly handsome best friend.

A voice sang from somewhere to his left, Frankie Valli's "My Eyes Adored You" slipping sweetly around the corner. Sirius took a few more steps inside the Lupin's home, drawn in by the lovely sound. He peered around the wall into the kitchen. Remus was gone now, he assumed up the set of rickety stairs on the far side of the kitchen. His mother, Hope, was in front of a muggle cooker, cleaning up the remnants of their breakfast. She went from singing to humming the song as she turned to slide leftover bacon and eggs from a pan onto a plate on the kitchen table. She caught Sirius's eye and gave him a friendly grin.

"You can come in, you know. We don't bite."

Well, Moony does, he thought. He said out loud. "Sorry, Remus said to wait. But, good morning, Mrs. Lupin."

"Just Hope is fine, dear. And don't listen to him. Come and sit. Rem' went upstairs to change so he'll be a minute."

He did as told and walked to the big round table that took up most of the space in the small room. He plopped down into an empty chair and tried very hard to not knock any of the clutter covering it off onto the floor. There were newspapers, both muggle and magic, worn paperback books, letters, scraps of parchment with hastily scrawled notes like Out of twine, pick up more on your way home please?, a half drunk cup of cold tea, and all sorts of other bits and bobs strewn about. He had to carefully slide a dirty plate over so he wouldn't set his arm in what looked like jam. Hope asked him if he'd had breakfast yet, which he hadn't, so she set the plate of bacon and eggs in front of him along with a cup of tea. He gave her a hearty thank you before tucking into the food. It tasted amazing, but that might have just been because Sirius had been eating only takeaway ever since he'd moved out on his own.

Hope laughed at his enthusiasm, a good-natured laugh that reminded him of Remus. A lot of things about Hope reminded him of her son, actually. They had the same light brown hair, though hers was streaked with gray, and the same fluffy curls. Their eyes were identical- hooded with thick lashes and pale green like toy marbles- and so were their noses and mouths. The only thing that seemed to be different was Hope short with soft curves, while Remus was long-limbed and thin.

Hope filled the time he spent eating with one-sided chitchat. He hadn't spoken to her much the few times she'd come with her husband to King's Cross Station, but she was friendly and nice in the same way Mrs. Potter always was to him. He didn't respond with much more than a few head nods, but that didn't deter her from continuing on. He got the feeling she didn't like silence, which he understood. Silence meant you were left with nothing but your own thoughts for company. Still, instead of really answering, he couldn't help but move his gaze around what he could see of the Lupin's cottage. It had a beamed ceiling and tile floors, and a large frayed motley-colored rug covering the space between this room and the one behind him. The sitting room had a large fireplace; the mantle covered in both muggle and magical photographs, vases of flowers, and an odd figurine that sort of resembled an illustration he once saw in his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook about the suspected true form of a boggart. He spotted two wide bookcases crammed with books and several shelves of knickknacks. The furniture was older, and worn, but comfortable looking. He liked the heavy, floral quilt thrown over the back of the couch.

There was a hallway, but he couldn't see down it from his seat at the table, so he turned his head back towards the kitchen instead. There were a lot of herbs hung from drying racks or shoved into glass jars, bottles of cooking oils, biscuit tins, and another jar filled with tea leaves. He saw a stack of recipe books and beside them a large tome on healing balms and salves. One long shelf above the sink had mismatched dishware and then another above it that had more jars, this time with canned vegetables and jams inside. He finally spotted the record player on a small spindly-legged table right by the stairs Remus had gone up, a box of records sat beside it.

It was all very... cozy-looking. Lived in. Warm. Sirius liked it. It was exactly the kind of place he'd expect Moony to call home. Despite the boy's efforts to always seem so neat and proper, Sirius knew the truth. It'd be impossible not to, after sharing a dorm for the past six years. Remus was all clutter and mismatched socks. He kept things that most people would just throw away, like old notes Sirius passed him in class, odd colored rocks, feathers from James and Peter's owls. It seemed only right his house would look the same, like a treasure chest of nonsense.

Remus came thundering down the stairs a moment later, dressed in trousers and a t-shirt for The Who Sirius remembered stealing from him sometime last year. He asked, "when did you get that back?"

"Grabbed it from your trunk when you weren't looking, you little thief. Anyway, thanks, Mam. See you later."

He leaned over to place a quick kiss to his mother's cheek, and then grabbed Sirius by the arm and started pulling him towards the door. Hope called out "Have fun!" to them as they left.

Remus let go once they were outside. Sirius tired to ignore the flutter of disappointment he felt. Instead, he asked, "ready to go, then?"

"Yea, except I realized while I was getting dressed you said something about going for a ride? What, you nick some brooms from James or something?"

"No," and he was bouncing on his feet again, he was so excited. "Come see."

He'd purposely left his motorbike parked behind the huge blackthorn hedge lining the road so Moony wouldn't notice. He'd gotten it just days after he'd found his new flat. Maybe it wasn't his most responsible purchase, but he still loved it. It was a Triumph Bonneville T120. The fenders and gas tank were painted a beautiful maroon color called astral red. Sirius had played around with it a little, using his magic to make it a bit bigger, a bit louder, and- though he hasn't tested it out all that much yet- able to fly.

He skipped the last few steps and then spun around, arms outstretched like the ringmaster of a circus, as he sang "Ta-da!"

"Padfoot!" Remus laughed as soon as he spotted it. He walked around, giving the motorbike an appreciative hum as he passed his fingers over the handlebars. "It's amazing, mate. What did James say when you took him for a ride? Did he try to give you a lecture on why brooms are better?"

"I haven't taken him yet."

"No?"

"No, I was saving the first ride for-" He stopped himself, mouth going dry as he felt heat burn his cheeks. He almost gave a little too much away. Remus wasn't dumb. He was sure one day his world was going to come crashing down when his friend realized the truth about how he felt. When that happened, everything would be gone. All their casual intimacy, the moments he stole, they'd go poof. Vanish, as quick as a bubble pops. He knew that day was coming. But until it did, he'd toe the line between what he had and what he wanted, never giving too much away so it would all last just a little bit longer. It's what takers did.

Remus's eyes were still on the bike, but one corner of his mouth was tilted up like he might be fighting a smile. "So, I get to be the first one, huh?"

Sirius just nodded and then handed Remus the spare helmet he'd brought along. He sat down and got the bike ready, and then kick-started the engine. It roared to life, like a great beast, the rumbling settling Sirius's nerves. He motioned for Remus to climb on behind him and then said a little breathlessly, "just keep your hands around my waist. And don't make any sudden turns or movements."

"Okay." Moony did as he was told, slipping his arms around him and leaning his head on Sirius's shoulder. "Like this?"

"Y-yea." He cleared his throat. "That's, um, perfect."

They rode for a long time, down empty roads lined with hedges all twisted up with honeysuckle and wild clematis, across rolling hills, passed green pastures, and through thick shady forests. Remus kept his arms wrapped tight all throughout the drive. Sirius's hands felt sweaty on the handlebars, and he didn't think it was just from his grip. He went as far away from Remus's home as he dared, finally pulling over a few hours later at a petrol station in a picturesque riverside village. They parked the bike and then walked across the street to a charming little pub with a wooden sign shaped like a cat. He bought them lunch and then they both tucked into their meals with all the gusto you'd expect of two teenage boys.

Sirius finished his food long before Remus, who between bites had gotten distracted looking around the other tables. Moony loved to people watch. Sirius wondered if it was because he'd spent most of his childhood hidden away from others. Today, the person to grab his attention was a rather curvy woman with steel gray hair piled high on top her head, wearing a floral dress that looked oddly identical to the couch Mrs. Potter had in her sitting room. She was by herself, with a half eaten plate of food and a worn book open in front of her. She was singing to herself, not a care in the world for the people starting to look her way. She had a nice voice, raspy and smokey, and he recognized the lyrics to Queen's "Somebody To Love." Moony smiled as she sang, his fingers tapping along to a nonexistent beat.

While Remus watched her, Sirius let his eyes wander over his friend. He seemed a little tanner, and with quite a few more freckles than Sirius remembered. There was a new scar peeking out from the neckline of his shirt. It trailed up the side of his throat in a sharp jagged line, just reaching the base of his jaw. His nails were bitten down on his left hand- a bad habit the boy did whenever he was anxious. Sirius and James were all the time having to pull his fingers away from his mouth so he wouldn't bite them till he bled. He noticed his right hand had a few plasters wrapped around its fingertips, which meant he'd recently started in on those nails too. Which also meant, Sirius realized, there was something Remus was still worrying about. He shouldn't be surprised about that, though. If there was anything his friend was good at, it was worrying. Moony liked to pretend he was this level-headed, overly-kind, perfect boy- but his friends knew the real him. He was sarcastic, and witty, and he could cut you into miserable little pieces with just words if you got him mad enough. He also cared too much about what other people thought. Remus's greatest fear was that the world would only ever see him as a monster, as the beast that lurked in the shadows and hunted people by the light of the moon. That's why he always tried to be that warped sense of perfect. Sirius told him he should tell the world to go fuck itself. If people didn't like Moony for who he was, than to hell with them. They didn't deserve him.

"You're staring," his friend's voice shot through him, pulling him up from the well of thought he'd been stuck in.

"So were you," he said back, nodding his head towards the singing woman.

"I was appreciating. She has a lovely voice."

"So do you," he said simply, the words leaving his mouth before he even had a chance to stop them.

A blush rose high on Remus's cheeks, as red as the roses at his house. He stared at Sirius, bewildered. "You've never even heard me sing."

"Uh, actually, I have," he admitted, because he'd already stuck his foot in it, might as well dive all the way in. "You sing in the shower every morning before class."

Remus looked mortified. He hid his face behind his hands and muttered a rather impressive bit of profanity. "You're supposed to be asleep that early, not listening to me!"

"Sorry," Sirius shrugged, and he couldn't help the smirk spreading across his lips. "Guess I can't help tuning in for the show."

He'd always known Remus woke up much earlier than the rest of them, but it was sort of an unspoken pact between himself, James, and Peter to not disturb him when he did. Moony liked his privacy, but when you share a dorm room with three other boys, privacy was hard to come by. So the three of them always made sure he had what little of it they could give. That hour to himself every morning was one thing they'd never taken away from him. At least it was, until Sirius's big fuck up near the end of fifth year. He'll forever wonder what possessed him to betray one of the most important people in his life like that, and to Snape of all people. Why he let that dark side of himself he normally kept locked away take control. He'd spent so many nights staring up at the canopy of his four-poster bed, exhausted from beating himself up with what-have-i-dones and what-ifs.

It was the morning after one of those nights that he heard Remus wake and shuffle over to the bathroom. He'd stared through a gap in his curtains at the closed door and listened to the sound of water being turned on. A few moments later, soft singing floated its way towards him, nearly drowned out by the sound of the water rushing down the drain. Sirius remembered being mesmerized by the sound, not just because Remus had a nice voice, but because this- the singing- was something he'd never known about his friend before. None of them did. It was a secret, and Remus didn't share secrets with him anymore, not after what he'd done. Not after he'd nearly told the person that hated them the most how to find out his biggest secret of all. This was the moment he realized he was a taker. Because instead of rolling over and trying to ignore the sound, he'd kept on listening. Hungrily, like a starving animal and the singing was scraps of food Moony was dangling in front of him. Remus had barely spoken to him in weeks and Sirius was desperate for even one moment with him. And since Remus wasn't giving them away freely anymore, Sirius took that one. Every day since that moment- took it and locked it away so on the days when their ruined relationship was too much to bear, he could think of Moony's soft, pretty voice and imagine he'd meant to share that moment with him.

Their relationship was repaired, after a lot of hard work on his part and more forgiveness from Remus than he deserved, but Sirius still woke at the same time as his friend now, just so he could listen to whatever song drifting out from the dormitory bathroom. He felt guilty about it, because he'd stolen this moment of privacy from him, but he did it anyway. Because the sound enchanted him the same way the music from his records did.

"I swear, I'm never singing in the shower again."

"Come on, don't do that," Sirius whined. "I promise it'll be our little secret."

Remus scoffed. "No way. Do you know how embarrassed I am, knowing I've had an audience all this time?"

"Don't be embarrassed. It's a compliment, how much I like your singing."

"Like it that much, do you?"

Sirius hummed his agreement, staring across the table with a bit more intensity than he'd meant to. "Who wouldn't? Now, if only I could get you to serenade me."

"Oh, would you like me to?" Remus's voice was husky, and the red that stained his cheeks was somehow even brighter. Sirius swallowed thickly, and when that didn't stop the nerves from fluttering up his throat like a swarm of butterflies trying to escape, he bit his lip, hard. Anything to keep him from opening his big mouth again. He always did this, if he spent too much time alone with Moony. He teetered at the edge, one foot dangling over the precipice to what he truly wanted, but knew he'd never have. It was just so easy though, so easy to flirt and touch and tease. Moony always gave back what he was given, sometimes more, to the point where Sirius lay awake at night with all sorts of thoughts and wants tumbling around in his lovesick little brain. He knew Moony never meant what he said. It was all in good fun, for him. But to Sirius it was torture, his own self-inflicted personal hell, and yet he wouldn't trade it away for anything. Because it was just something else he could take.

Moony seemed like he was waiting for something, but when whatever it was never came, he sighed and pushed his plate away from him. "You ready to go?"

They left the pub, retrieved the bike from the petrol station, and then drove back to the cottage. Sirius thought, since they were both seventeen and had their licenses, it would be easier to just apparate to London and Remus agreed. Sirius parked his motorbike by that same blackthorn hedge and waited for Remus to pop inside his house to let his mother know they were off again. When he returned, they whisked themselves off to London with a loud crack!

"I still hate how that feels," Moony complained, as soon as Sirius landed beside him. They were standing in an alleyway, right next to a dumpster with something in it the summer heat was making smell absolutely foul. The sides of the buildings were littered with old, faded posters. Some were just advertisements, others were signs detailing long-past protests or live music shows- their messages handwritten with marker that had bled from the rain so the lettering was all runny and misshapen. There was even a rather crude drawing, a small flyer hidden amongst the larger posters, of what he thought might be a man and woman in the throes of passion. Sirius took Remus by the arm and led him towards the sounds of people.

"Me too. Next time, let's just floo to the Leaky Cauldron. I'd rather feel a bit queasy from all the spinning, instead of like I'd just shoved myself inside a pipe."

They'd reached the crowd now. Remus had to step closer to him to avoid running into a group of people. "Next time, huh? Planning on taking me out again?"

Sirius felt his stomach somersault. He wondered what that would be like, getting to take Moony out on a proper date. One where Remus knew how Sirius felt, and he actually felt the same. No one had to hide anything, and he didn't have to watch what he said, or how much he flirted. They'd do something just like this- food and music- because that was the one thing they both loved the most, the thing they shared. Or maybe they would do something else. He'd always wanted to go to a muggle Cinema, and he's sure Remus had mentioned enjoying them the few times he'd gone with his mother, Hope. There wouldn't be any taking, no moments he had to steal. It would just be him and Remus and nothing else would matter.

It's a shame getting his hopes up like that only ever led to him being hurt in the end.

He finally released Remus's arm. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw him frown. Sirius cleared his throat and answered, before the moment got too awkward. "Of course I am. I have been trying to corrupt you since first year. Can't stop now."

"Trying to pull me over to your villainous ways on my make-believe birthday? Tut, tut, Padfoot."

Sirius snorted, and then in an act of bravery, grabbed his friend by the arm again so he could lead him deeper into muggle London. They walked around as aimlessly as they could, laughing and teasing and smirking at each other like the day was some great secret meant only for them. They went past cute little boutiques with overdressed mannequins, flower shops even more fragrant than the Lupin's garden, dusty bookstores with tables outside piled high with used books in every genre, and crowded cafes- the smell of the food cooking inside lingering in the air and making his stomach growl. One souvenir shop had a little radio playing, tinny music drifting up and dancing over the heads of tourists to reach them. A group of boys not too much older than them were singing along, their voices tumbling over the lyrics to the Dead Ends Kids' "Have I The Right" as they knocked into one another.

Finally, when most of the shops were closing for the night, they walked to the pub where the band from the flyer would be playing. It was small, and crowded, and cigarette smoke hung thick and hazy in the air. Remus went to find a table while Sirius pushed his way to the bar and bought them each a pint and some chips to share. When he finally sat at the table with his friend, the band was walking out onto the small stage at the far side of the room. Remus slid his chair over so he was sitting right next to him, as Sirius dug into the chips. They burned his fingers a little as he grabbed him, so he dropped them back onto the plate. He stuck his sore finger into his mouth, grumbling a swear as he did so.

Remus laughed at him and then leaned in close so he could be heard over the noise of the pub. Sirius felt a little shiver run through him as Moony's breath ghosted over his ear and cheek. "What's this band called again?"

"Um." He wiped his hand on a napkin as he thought. "It's On Dreamer's Street, I think. Something like that."

"Tell me their drummer doesn't look exactly like Peter."

Sirius looked at the man towards the back of the stage. He had mousy-brown hair and a very round face and was almost a head shorter than his other bandmates. "Blimey, he does! We ought to tell Wormtail he's got a much cooler twin walking around London."

Remus elbowed him in the ribs. He had that same disapproving look in his eye he always got when he thought Sirius was being too mean. Or whenever he made fun of Peter, which admittedly, he did often. It was just too much fun not to, not to mention easy. Sirius ignored the look and instead threw one of the chips at Moony's face.

Soon the noise of the crowd was lost to the strumming of guitars and the beating of drums. The band was great. They played some original music, but mostly covered songs from other bands; the Ramones, the Clash, the Sex Pistols. When they started on Patti Smith's version of "Gloria," Remus grabbed Sirius by the hand and pulled him into the crowd gathering around the stage. Sirius's blood was singing in is veins. He was hot and his ears were starting to ring with a high-pitched whine from the pounding drum beats. People were smashed up against them and everything smelled like sweat and leather and the beer someone spilled down his arm- but his fingers were interlocked with Moony's and Remus's mouth was just a hairsbreadth away from his face as he sang along with the band. And suddenly everything was too bright and too loud and his heart was beating so hard in his chest he was surprised it hadn't exploded out of him and gone flying across the room. It was all too much and yet, when someone behind him knocked him into Remus and the space between them was almost nonexistent, it wasn't enough. And all he could think about was how he wished he knew a spell to make the night last forever.

It had to end eventually, though. They left the pub hours later, hair smelling like cigarettes, breath like alcohol. Sirius threw an arm around Moony's shoulders and leaned all his weight on him. Remus let out a snort- almost tripping them both as he fought to keep from dropping him. Sirius yawned, "well, I'm completely knackered."

Remus hummed his agreement. "S'pose we should be getting back to my place, then."

"Well..." That flame of desire he'd had earlier, about wanting the night to last forever, flickered back to life. He just needed a little more time, that's all. A little more of Remus all to himself, and he'd be fine. That wasn't too selfish. He could take a little more. "I don't know how well I'd apparate right now. Plus, I'd have to ride my motorbike all the way back here..."

"Okay, well, do you want me to ask Mam if you can stay over?"

He paused. He realized that wasn't quite what he'd been hoping Remus would suggest. Maybe it was the bit of alcohol he'd drank, or maybe it was that Gryffindor courage James liked to preach about before his Quidditch matches, but finally he just thought fuck it and threw caution to the wind and did it himself. "Actually, I was thinking I'd just get us a room at the Leaky Cauldron? It's not too far from here. We can go back to your place in the morning."

Remus stopped and studied him, those marble-like eyes strangely bright in the glow of the streetlight they were standing under. They pierced right through him, like a needle into skin. Sirius gulped. Maybe he shouldn't have tried his luck. He felt like he was standing on the edge again, one wrong step from the sharp rocks below. He just wanted more time, but if he kept on, he might say too much, give too much away. And that would be the end of everything.

Moony's mouth tilted up into a grin, one that was all teeth and playful mischief. Sirius felt his heart thumping for a whole different reason. "Sounds good to me."

He supposed they could have just gone back to his flat, but it was still a mess of half unpacked boxes and leftover takeaway containers. Not exactly guest-having appropriate, though he was sure Moony wouldn't care. When they reached the inn, Sirius booked a room, and then asked the barman, Tom, to send up some steak and kidney pie and pumpkin juice for dinner. He also bought a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey. They ate on the floor of the room, below the open window so the noise from the street and the hot night air could drift in, and swapped the bottle of whiskey back and forth until it was gone. They talked, and joked, and eventually their loud boisterous laughter faded away into whispered secrets that even James and Peter didn't know. Like how worried Remus was about life after Hogwarts- if he'd be able to find a job when no one wanted to hire a werewolf or if he'd even have money for a place to live. Sirius told him all about how scared he'd been on his first night alone in his new flat. How he'd kept every light on in every room and woke any time the dingy little place creaked or groaned.

The rest of the night was mostly a blur. He remembered Remus putting the dirty dishes and empty bottle on the bedside table and he remembered tripping over himself as he tried taking off his boots and trousers so he could go to sleep. He remembered Moony laughing at him when he fell face first into the covers. And, he remembered pulling his friend down onto the bed beside him, and hitting him with a pillow until they were both out of breath and red-faced from cackling. But most vividly of all, he remembered Remus smiling at him, right before he'd leaned forward to catch Moony's lips with his own.

He groaned, much louder than he'd meant to, but even the sound of his arm sliding across the bed sheets was too much for him right now. There was light falling into the room from the window they'd left open, and it was shining right in his face. His tongue felt like it'd been wrapped in cotton and was now a little too big for his mouth. His head pounded worse than that time in third year when Peter had hit him in the face with a bludger- James had been determined to convert his friends over to his Quidditch-loving ways with a little hands-on experience. Newsflash, it didn't work. He tried rolling over away from the light, but the bulging mass of cover beside him grumbled something indistinguishable before happily going back to snoring. Sirius rolled back over and faced the light brown curls peeking out from under the old duvet- the only part of Remus he could see at the moment. He froze.

Why did he always have to fuck things up?

That was his immediate thought after the few seconds it took for his muddled brain to catch up. If this was any other day, and Remus was any other boy, he'd be excited with how things ended up. If this was any other morning, Sirius would linger in the morning light, under the covers where everything felt nice and warm, and he'd take in the person beside him. If this was just some handsome bloke, or that charming muggle boy he'd often sneaked off to see the summer he ran away to the Potter's, he'd be happy. But it was not any other morning, and though the boy beside him was doubly charming and handsome than all the others, there was nothing good about this situation Sirius could linger in.

He'd messed up. That's all there was to it. Remus was one of his best mates and, most importantly, he didn't know how Sirius felt. Sirius never should have kissed him. He shouldn't have let himself get so drunk he'd forget his most important rule. Don't take too much. He didn't think he could salvage their friendship now. When Remus woke, nothing would be the same. And since he couldn't have Remus in the way he wanted- and he knew he couldn't, it wouldn't be possible to- he at least had to have his friendship. He had to. He was greedy, and he didn't want to give up the moments he took. All the inside jokes not even James or Peter knew, accidentally brushing hands when he handed him a spare quill, slow walks back to the dorm under the invisibility cloak with their arms full of goodies from the kitchen, Remus so close all Sirius could smell was his soap and that woodsy cologne he always wore; he wanted all these moments and more. Had to have them. It was the only way he could get through knowing the boy beside him would never want him back.

He wished he could keep it forever, their intimate, effortless way of being with each other. It was such a different kind of friendship than he had with the other boys. It was special. Remus was special. Remus was kind, and funny, and sarcastic, and he forgave you when you became the worst version of yourself, but only after he made sure you knew you couldn't stay that way. You couldn't be stagnant in your own wickedness. Sirius was a better person because of Remus. But now he'd ruined it.

The snoring had stopped and he could feel his friend fumbling around under the covers, like he'd forgotten which way would bring him out into the daylight. He saw Remus's eyes, and then his nose, and then his mouth mid-yawn free themselves from the duvet. He gave Sirius a sleepy smile that he tried to return, but he knew he didn't quite manage to.

"Morning, Padfoot."

"Morning... Moony."

Remus sat up. His shirt was rumpled and there were red lines from the pillow criss-crossing over the right side of his face. He stretched, his back giving several audible pops. He pulled himself out of bed and Sirius silently watched him search the floor for his trousers. When he'd found them, Remus turned to him and said through another yawn, "I should have found a telephone box before we came here last night. Mam's probably worried."

"That thing that lets you make... calls to people? Is that right?"

Remus nodded and started dressing. Sirius was still just lying in bed. He didn't understand. Did Remus not remember the kiss? Or was he just pretending nothing happened because he thought it would spare them both any embarrassment. Remus sat down on the bed again so he could slip on his trainers, but he seemed to finally notice that Sirius hadn't moved yet, because he stopped. He tilted his head to the side to try and catch Sirius's eye.

"Padfoot?"

Sirius finally sat up, but he looked away from his friend. He wondered if he should pretend too. If Moony was willing to ignore the whole situation for the sake of their friendship, then he should go along with it. Right? He froze again when he felt Remus's fingers tuck a strand of his long hair behind his ear.

"You alright?"

"I'm..." He couldn't do it. He wanted to, he did, because that meant things could stay the same. He'd still have Moony. But they had to at least talk about it. Even if all Remus said was to never bring it up again. He wanted to at least acknowledge the kiss. It was stupid, but he couldn't help it. He'd imagined so many times over the past few months what it would be like to kiss him. Now that he had, he thought it might drive him mad if he didn't get to say it out loud. "Are we going to talk about last night?"

Remus pulled his hand away, twisting them in his lap before he gave in and started chewing on his nails. "Okay. What about?"

Sirius almost lost his nerve, but after a deep breath he finally managed to whisper," I kissed you."

"I know."

He waited, expecting more, but nothing came. He suddenly remembered the first night of the summer holiday, when James had made a passing comment that was something like, "if you opened your eyes, you might actually see." He still isn't sure what he'd meant by that. James had seemed a little annoyed, but Sirius had chalked it up to him having spent the better part of the night waxing poetic about his feelings for Moony. James was the only person who knew how he felt and usually he let Sirius ramble on as long as he wanted, since there was no one else he could talk to about it. But James had seemed frustrated that night, and no amount of prodding would get him to say why. Was there something Sirius was missing? He took another deep breath, and turned to face his friend.

"You're not freaking out." It was more of an observation than a question, because besides the nail-biting, Remus was his usual calm and collected self.

"Am I supposed to be?"

"Well, I mean- you're supposed to do something. Scream at me, shout, tell me never to speak to you again. And leave your nails alone! You're going to make yourself bleed."

Remus dropped his hand into his lap. He moved a little closer on the bed. "Why would I do any of that?"

"Because I kissed you!"

"So? I kissed you back!"

Sirius felt his voice catch in his throat. He stared open-mouth at Remus, trying to detect some hint of a lie in his eyes. He definitely didn't remember that. "W-what?"

"Merlin's beard, Sirius, how drunk were you last night?"

"T-the same as you were. But that doesn't matter. What do you mean you kissed me back?"

"I mean exactly what I said," Remus sighed at him. He brought a hand forward again and gently grabbed Sirius by the chin. He moved Sirius's face so his gaze would be back on him, because at some point Sirius had started looking over Moony's shoulder, afraid that he would actually see the lie in his eyes. But now it was no use. If Moony wanted your attention, he got it. And it was almost impossible to look away from that unflinching stare. At least, Sirius had never found a way to. "Padfoot, I like you too."

Sirius wrenched his face out of the other boy's hand. Couldn't, wouldn't. That's what he always told himself. Remus couldn't feel the same, wouldn't feel the same. Sirius was just wicked loveliness- cold and dark, like a rainy, lonely night when you've just run away from home, all wrapped up in a pretty silk bow. He's known this since the night he fucked everything up. Remus may have forgiven him, may have convinced him to do better from now on, but that didn't mean he got to ignore what he'd done. It didn't mean he got to ignore what he really was. There was good in him too, he knew this, but so what? What mattered was the choices he'd made then, and the ones he'd make in the future. And Sirius had a lifetime of good choices to make before he deserved a chance with the handsome, charming boy in front of him. "No, you don't."

Remus flinched like he'd been slapped. He snarled, "don't tell me what I feel, Sirius. And don't start with this shit again! I know you like to put me on some stupid pedestal, just so you can act like you're beneath me. I can tell by your face that's what you're doing. It's fucking rubbish, and it needs to stop."

"I don't do that!"

"Yes, you fucking do! James said-"

He stopped, mouth hanging open like the words he'd been about to say had curled up and died. Sirius felt himself go rigid as stone. There was fire working it's way up his throat, leaving everything behind it cold as the Hogwarts's dungeons in the middle of Winter. He bit out his next words through clenched teeth. "James. Said. What?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't!" Something clicked in Sirius's brain. "He... He told you I liked you, didn't he?"

He regretted the thought as soon as the words left his mouth. James wouldn't do that to him. No way. Never. He kept his friend's secrets, no matter what. And yet, he was the only person who knew how Sirius felt. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut. James had promised not to tell. And he wanted to believe he didn't, because it was James, but there was no one else who could have.

Remus rolled his eyes and scoffed at him, like James betraying his trust wasn't a big deal. "Of course he didn't, you twit. You told me."

Sirius stared at him for a long moment, not quite sure what he'd just heard. When he finally found his voice again, all he managed was a half-intelligible, "huh?"

"You know, I've secretly been hoping you were just pretending all this time that it didn't happen in some weird attempt to save your dignity, but I guess you really don't remember." Remus started, shaking his head at him. "It was months ago, after the Gryffindor match against Slytherin? We won and had that big party in the common room to celebrate. You and James got absolutely smashed trying to see who could do more shots. Remember, James puked all over Mary Macdonald's shoes?"

He did remember that party, bits and pieces of it at least. The thought of it always made his stomach roll. "I still don't know what you're talking about."

Remus sighed. "After that, Lily took the bottle away from you two and told Peter to go clean James up in the common room bathroom. You said you were feeling sick so you went up to the dorm room alone. I was worried so I followed you up there. I found you with your head practically shoved in the toilet, puking your guts up. I tried to get you to lay down, but you got all weepy-"

"I don't get weepy when I drink!"

"Yes, you do. Don't interrupt." Remus scrubbed a hand down his face. "Like I was saying, I tried to put you in your bed, but you started saying how you were in love with me, but you were afraid to tell me because you thought I wouldn't like you back. It took me like twenty minutes to get you to calm down."

Sirius felt like the bed had disappeared out from underneath him. This couldn't be happening. He didn't tell, right? Suddenly, it was a little hard for him to breathe. "No, I... I didn't."

"You did. Remember, afterwards you grabbed the duvet off James's bed and tried sleeping on the floor, but he came in and accidentally stepped on you?"

Sirius did remember the pain of a foot smashing his face into the floor, and James's godawful shriek when he sat up and started swearing at him. But that was it. He didn't remember talking to Remus at all. "So, you're saying I told you months ago how I felt and you've just been, what, keeping it to yourself?"

"Well I asked James a couple days later if it was true or not, because I figured if you'd told anyone about it, it would have been him. He didn't tell me anything, of course. He just kept saying it was a conversation I needed to have with you. I figured that meant you did fancy me and it wasn't just the whiskey talking."

"But, if you knew and you liked me back, why didn't you do anything about it?"

"I did!" Remus looked like he wanted to smack him. "I've been flirting with you for months, Padfoot."

That declaration made Sirius's stomach flutter, like the butterflies were back again. "Why didn't you just say something?"

"Because, I know you didn't mean to tell me. I thought the least I could do was wait for you to make a move. I didn't want to pressure you before you were ready.I figured flirting with you would at least let you know I liked you back, but you never noticed!"

If you opened your eyes, you might actually see. That bloody tosser. James had known all along that Moony knew, that he felt the same. When he saw Prongs again, he was going to curse a broom to chase him around and whack him over the head. That'd show him.

But, more importantly, were all the emotions swirling inside him right now. He'd never been more embarrassed in his life, and he was definitely angry at himself for wasting all that time telling himself Moony would never like him, when apparently he did. But, he was also happy. Stupidly happy.

"I'm never drinking again," was all he could think to say, and he couldn't keep the smile off his face now.

Remus snorted. "Sure, you won't."

Sirius leaned forward, face mere inches away from Moony's. "You like me."

"I do," and now Remus was smiling too, that same grin from last night. The one that did funny things to Sirius's heart. "And you like me."

"I do."

Remus met him the rest of the way, capturing Sirius lips with his own. It was a little awkward at first, a sort of bumbling mess of who should do what, but finally Sirius gave in and let Remus lead. He felt the other boy's hand tangle in his hair, so he brought his up to cup Moony's face. Remus deepened the kiss, and Sirius followed along, his heart thumping like the drums from last night.

It wasn't fireworks. It wasn't an explosion of feelings, like a rocket taking off into the sky. It wasn't magical, like a muggle fairy tale. He didn't hear choirs singing, or see some nonsensical vision of their future together. It was nothing he thought his first kiss with Remus would be.

It was warmth blanketing his skin as he was washed in the first rays of sunlight peeking in through his bedroom window. It was soft gloves sliding over his frozen fingers when he'd played barehanded too long in the snow. It was diving into his freshly made bed, sheets rumbling and tangling around his limbs. It was hot tea sliding over his sore throat. It was cool raindrops splashing on his face when the storm broke on a hot summer afternoon. It was someone's thumbs gently wiping tears away from his cheeks.

It was comfort. It was calm. It was relief.

It was something he'd felt a thousand times before, and everything he hoped he'd feel again and again for the rest of his life. And when Moony finally pulled away, he didn't feel the need to chase after him. Because he knew he'd always be right there.

"As much as I'd love to just stay here and do this all day, think you could get me back to my house now? Mam's going to kill me."

Sirius laughed, and even he could tell the sound was a little freer, a little happier. "Of course, Moonykins. I'd hate for you to be locked away for the rest of the Summer."

"Me too. If I am, how are you going to take me out on another date?"

Sirius felt his stomach flip at the word "another." He was queasy, he was so happy. Or maybe that was just the hangover. He didn't care. The point was, he'd have another day just like yesterday. Only better, because there'd be no hiding how anyone felt. It was going to be amazing.

"Help me find my trousers," he said, throwing the covers off his legs finally. "Or do you want your mother to see me saying goodbye to you in just my pants?"

Remus threw a pillow at him, which Sirius expertly dodged by rolling off the bed. He got dressed, and though he wanted to buy them both breakfast at the inn, he figured it wasn't worth getting the boy into even more trouble. When they finally apparated back to the cottage, the windows were thrown open again and he could hear music drifting out from the record player in the kitchen- this time the mellow sounds of the Carpenters's "(They Long To Be) Close To You." He walked him to the front door, where Moony's hand lingered on the door knob, like he wasn't quite ready to say goodbye.

"Happy birthday, Moony." Sirius grinned.

Remus snorted. "Can't wait to see what you do for my actual birthday."

"Oh, it'll be something spectacular. Trust me."

Remus's lips tilted up in the corners like he was fighting a smile. He leaned forward and kissed Sirius's cheek and with a ghost of a breath muttered, "see you later, Padfoot."

He disappeared into the house without another word. Sirius walked back to his bike just as the song on the record stopped. For a moment, all he could hear were the sounds of summer. Bugs humming, birds chirping. And then, another song started, but he didn't pay attention to what it was. He just turned back to cast one last glance at the quaint little cottage with its overflowing flowerbeds and cluttered windowsills. Finally, he sat on his bike, kick-started the engine, and began the long ride back home- feeling just a little bit lighter than he had before.