"You know what Prongs said when I told him about us?" Sirius asks playfully, tossing a dishcloth at Peter. Peter tries to catch the cloth, but misses, and it falls into the dirty water in the sink.
"No. What did James say?" Peter picks the damp cloth out of the sink, and not bothering to wring the water out, folds it neatly. He can't imagine what James said when he learnt the true nature of his and Sirius's relationship, but he knows it can't have been anything good.
"Well," Sirius continues, stacking plates noisily, "I said to him, Prongsie, I've got something to tell you. And then he said, What, you twat? And I said, I never expected it to happen, but you know how the four of us are so close and everything, and before I could say anything else, do you know what he said?"
Sirius pauses and looks at Peter with his dark brown, inquiring eyes. Peter simply stares back at him. He's starting to feel a bit nauseous for some reason. Sirius grins at him fondly, and scratches his stubbly cheek.
"Moony."
"Moony," Peter repeats. He slowly walks over to the kitchen table and sinks down onto an uneven wooden stool. The familiar nickname tastes sour in his mouth. "Moony."
"Moony," Sirius agrees, shoving the plates into a cabinet. "Isn't that weird? He said, I knew it, I knew all along you and Remus were up to something, you two just fit. And then I said, whoa, hold on, it isn't Moony. And he said, but then... and then he just went, oh."
"Mhmm," Peter mumbles awkwardly. He doesn't want to talk about Moony. Peter wants to cuddle up with Sirius on the battered sofa with a glass of wine, and talk about nothing in particular, and then after a while Sirius will get bored and fall asleep in his lap, and then maybe Peter will be able to think straight. Sirius always gets so... animated when he talks about James and Remus, and Peter doesn't like it. He doesn't like it at all.
"I mean, sure, Moony's ace," Sirius goes on, coming to join Peter at the table. "He's so wise, and he doesn't know when he's being funny, and he's hopeless at public speaking, and he's got that thing about chocolate, and there are all those little things about him that make him so... Moony. But he couldn't... I mean he can't... he..."
Sirius's face clouds over briefly, remembering that day in the woods with Moony. He hates to think about it, about how he could be so stupid and insensitive and ruin everything that might have been. Sirius could never tell Peter about it – he wouldn't want to make him feel like second-best, or a poor substitute for Remus. And there's no point in him brooding about it, because it never would have worked.
Sirius shakes his head and smiles at Peter, who gives him a small smile in return. Peter knows all about that day with Moony. Peter knows a lot of things Sirius doesn't want anyone to know. Things about Remus and James, things about Sirius's mother, things about his little brother. Private, personal, intimate things. Sirius has recently confided a few of these things to Peter, but Peter found out these snippets of information by himself, early on. Peter needs this information; it helps him maintain his power. He needs to know he has a secret weapon at his disposal. When he's with someone as overwhelming as Sirius, he needs to know he has the power.
"You know why I like you?" Sirius's deep voice cuts through Peter's train of thought. Peter blinks in surprise and shakes his head, startled. Sirius raises an eyebrow, and reaches out to take Peter's small hand from across the table. Peter flinches. He doesn't mean to, but he does. He curses himself silently, hoping that Sirius hasn't noticed.
"You're so reliable, Pete. You're always there for me. For everyone. Not that..." Sirius pauses, unsure if he's being disloyal. "I mean, Prongs and Moony are there whenever they can be. They're both great. But with you... you're so uncomplicated. I just know you'll be there for all of us no matter what. And you'd never keep anything from us. You're so honest, and loyal... I mean, at school, people saw you as just plain old Peter. But you're so good and pure, and simple... and that's why I love you."
Peter doesn't say anything. He refuses to let his brain register the fact that Sirius has just said "I love you". He refuses to think about Sirius sitting across the table from him, waiting for any kind of response. All he is thinking about is how he can stop himself from bursting into tears and giving the whole game away.
"Sirius," Peter croaks out, removing his hand from Sirius's grasp, "Look, I'm really sorry and I know I'm being an arse, but I think I need to go to sleep. I feel really sick." A look of disappointment flickers across Sirius's face, but it's soon replaced with one of concern.
"Yeah, sure thing." Sirius stands up abruptly. He looks around the small kitchen uncomfortably, and then turns back to Peter. "You're sure you don't want me to stay and look after you? Make you soup? Tuck you in?"
"Sirius, you can't cook," Peter mumbles. "And I don't think I have nearly enough energy for 'tucking in'. I just need a quiet night alone." Sirius smiles wryly, and picks up his leather jacket from the single hook near the door. Peter never hangs his clothes up there. It's Sirius's hook.
"Ok, I'm going. But I'll pop by tomorrow morning to see how you are. Check if you've died in the night." Sirius waits by the door as Peter gets up, and gives him a very chaste kiss on the lips. Peter knows it's not nearly as much affection as he wants, but he can't bring himself to do anything more passionate, otherwise Sirius might change his mind about tucking him in.
"Bye." Sirius opens the door with some reluctance, and leaves. Peter can hear him whistling merrily as he saunters down the hallway. He closes the door and leans against it, his hand resting on the metal doorknob. Peter inhales deeply, then exhales, in an attempt to calm himself down. He can faintly hear the couple from upstairs playing classical music.
Peter sinks down onto the floor and puts his head in his hands. He hates all this; all the lies. He wishes that he didn't have a secret, that he was still plain old Peter, and that he didn't have to pretend to his friends, his best friends, the best friends in the whole world. Or were they?
None of them really understood him, none of them respected him, none of them ever took him seriously. He was never the most intelligent, or the bravest, or the funniest. They were always surprised whenever he did anything remotely out of character, like standing up to a teacher, or cracking a funny joke. They'd always underestimated him. That was their biggest mistake.
Peter remembers Sirius and Remus together, on that day, that horrible day... the day he'd finally made his choice. He hates remembering it. Whether it was the right decision or the wrong one doesn't matter anymore. It's too late to start having any second thoughts.
"Just imagine," Peter whispers to himself, as he rocks backwards and forwards on the wooden floorboards. "Just imagine the look on Sirius's face when he finds out it was you."