A/N: Okay so it was a day turn around. This is not a precedent. The next two chapters have been written, and they will be out soon but when is a surprise x

The last thing Sirius remembered about his dream was feeling warm, and the sensation of something soft gently brushing his fingertips. He felt like he was smiling, but he couldn't be sure. That's always the thing with dreaming. If it feels real it's only tantalisingly so. One of life's many empty promises and saving graces. As quickly as he thought he could feel it, the sensation slipped deep within his memory, comforting but cowering, like it would disappear forever if he dared to even look at it.

As he eased back into consciousness, Sirius found himself in the rather strange position of looking down at his own sleeping form. Which was... odd? He felt awake, but he mustn't be. In this vision, he was indeed smiling softly, hand outstretched in front of him on the mattress. He tried moving it, and sure enough, he watched his fingers slowly curl against the sheets

He's so fucking gorgeous that's actually unfair, who just wakes up like that the twat. Do I have to wake him? Yeah I guess I do. Stupid James and his stupid morning routine up at stupid hours of the morning... But he just looks so peaceful and soft and- dear god pull yourself together Remus...

Wait, Remus?

Oh.

Oh.

The spell.

The telepathy.

The huge invasion of privacy and soon-to-be very broken trust.

Oh, this was very much not a dream.

Sirius bolted upright, back in his own body. Looking around trying acquaint himself with these new bearings, he found himself locked in amber eyes and before he could start shuffling through all the very overwhelming thoughts that came with direct eye contact with Remus Lupin, he jerked back, snatching the covers over his head to avoid looking at the other boy, not ready to hear anything more going on beneath those gorgeous curls.

"Jesus Moons, little privacy?"

"Since when have you cared about privacy? Mr the-marauders-are-a-socialist-utopia-so-your-bed-is-my-bed-and-I'll-sleep-where-I-damn-well-please?"

Well then. Sirius didn't have a comeback for that, so he instead went with a very well placed groan. As fun as banter with Moony was, he needed him out of the room as soon as possible.

"Wow Pads, truly I'm wounded, that was so clever of you to say," Remus said somewhere above him, and Sirius practically heard the roll of his eyes. "Now hurry up, or you're going to miss breakfast."

"I'll have you for breakfast," Sirius grumbled in reply, his thoughts sluggish and unresponsive in this syrupy state of half-consciousness.

"Piss off," Remus scoffed and backed away.

After waiting a generous few seconds and hearing only silence, Sirius peaked from beneath the covers to check the coast was clear. Unfortunately, he hadn't waited quite long enough and caught the back of both Remus and his train of thought - can't just say things like that to me when - as the door shut promptly behind him.

Crap, he hadn't meant to upset him. He should probably apologise. Wait, could he even do that without giving everything away? Oh god he hadn't made him uncomfortable had he? This stupid spell took intrusive thoughts to a whole new level. Sirius propped himself up on a bent elbow and ran his hand through his hair, already very sure that this was going to be the most frustratingly difficult day ever.

Being the president of the huge-crush-on-Remus fanclub (unbeknownst to its many other members) was already a difficult task. The tall, caramel curled, scarred, sarcastic and stunning asshole was simply impossible to resist for long. And Sirius tried, god he tried so hard. Since he was about thirteen he was aware that his relationship with Remus was Different to everyone else. Having less than the normal level of preteen self awareness, Sirius had chalked this up to Moony's complete uniqueness and nothing more. No one had a friend like Remus Lupin, he was just Different, and so their friendship was also Different.

Around the age of fourteen, Sirius grew more comfortable in all his friendships, exploring all the tactile connections he hadn't realised he could have. This year was spent frequently tackling or being tackled by James in the morning, linking arms with whoever he was walking down the halls with and, as Remus had said, falling asleep on whomever or whatever bed was closest, sharing with all the marauders and not caring one bit about it. It always felt different when it was Moony, but it hadn't registered as something significant to him back then.

Age fifteen? Enter: girls. Sirius Black had always been stunning and charismatic, and that year he experienced all the many benefits that reaped for him. Even he could hardly keep up, never saying no and never attributing great meaning to any fancy, fling or fantasy. Until of course, the great debut of the shit-im-falling-for-Remus-Lupin feelings took centre stage.

As smart as he was, it did admittedly take him a while to put the pieces together. A small smile that was just too hard to keep back after remembering a joke Remus had made that morning. Pestering him with any little irrelevant question he could think of just to spend time talking to him. Being unable to stop himself staring across classrooms and pulling faces when the other boy looked his way, trying to play it off, feeling as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn't. But it was just Moony, wasn't it?

Well, it stopped being 'just Moony' when Sirius found himself watching the flickering firelight of the common room juxtapose glowing scars against darkening freckles and thinking it looked like art being painted right in front of him.

It stopped being 'just Moony' when in a regular fit of Sirius's-evening-energy-bursts he found himself flustered at being face to face with an exasperated Remus pinning him down, and instinctually licked straight up the bridge of his nose, effectively freeing himself through shock factor alone.

It stopped being 'just Moony' when Sirius stopped mid laugh at Remus's stunned expression with the realisation that he had very nearly kissed him and maybe very much would have preferred too.

Cue: a whole year of very confusing feelings and failed attempts at suppressing them.

By sixteen Sirius had come to terms with the fact that these feelings weren't going away. The fifteen year old angst-and-pining era had been almost unbearable and he finally broke down one day to James about the whole thing.

And thank whoever called themselves God for James potter.

James Potter, who sat him down in his very first week of being sixteen, told him to "Just spit out whatever's bothering you would you?" around a mouthful of red apple, because, "If you keep this stupid scowling thing up, I'll start confusing you with Snivellus. And if I can't tell you apart then I'll start thinking he's my best friend, so save all three of us the trauma and get on with it!"

To which Sirius promptly burst into tears and told him everything.

"So? You like Moony, I don't see the big deal, he's a dashing lad," James had said tossing the core in the bin, landing it perfectly (obviously he did, he was just so James like that sometimes).

"Exactly, he's a guy!" Sirius had protested. "And he's our friend! Isn't there problem with that?"

Even after listening patiently to Sirius's blubbering (which included at least two seperate spiels about Remus's eyes) James seemed annoyingly nonchalant about the whole thing.

"Some people like boys Sirius, it happens. And some people like their friends. Not much you can do about either," he had shrugged, before grinning cheekily and adding, "Except in Evan's case, in which I pray for both."

They had said little else about it since, James's smirks and Sirius's longing stares saying enough about where they both continued to stand on the whole situation.

Sixteen was also the year of Remus's ridiculous growth spurt, so he shot up above all the other marauders and just kept going. His hair continued to fall gracefully into the deep soulful eyes he finally grew into, and he began catching more than a few stares.

So yes. Several months later, Sirius was not the only person to find himself tripping and falling head over heels for the werewolf, but he proudly believed himself to be the first and most sincere member of this little fanclub growing steadily around Remus. Not that he would ever tell Remus how he felt because despite James's assurances that everything he was feeling was normal and okay, Sirius hadn't seen anything else like it. 'Normal' didn't mean 'common'. 'Normal' didn't mean 'not shocking'. 'Normal' didn't erase the friendship-ruining potential of these feelings. So, while Sirius was very settled in them, and knew they weren't likely to go away if they hadn't by this point, he definitely wasn't going to act on whatever these feelings were.

And reflecting on this, a process with as many detours and direction changes as the stairs beneath him as he made his way to the great hall, Sirius was very very glad that Remus wasn't able to hear his thoughts on it all. It was enough to give anyone a headache - Sirius knew that better than anyone.

Rounding the corner and entering the hall, Sirius kept his eyes on the floor, following the sound of James's loud laugh and flicking his eyes towards it as often as he dared, trying to put off the inevitable as long as possible. Knowing he had reached his destination he plastered on a smile, flicked his head back to get the hair out of his eyes and declare a jovial "Morning lads!" which was met with a chorus of returned sentiments from his friends.

Instinctually, Sirius collapsed into his usual place at the dining table next to James and across from Remus, but as he took in the tracing of slender fingers over the morning news - the narration of which ran crystal clear through his head - and the absolute softness that was a reading Moony, he realised this would absolutely not do.

"Wormy," he said abruptly, and possibly too loudly, trying to talk over Remus's thoughts, as a couple of heads turned his way.

Peter, who had a piece of toast half way to already very full mouth, mumbled a disgruntled, "What?" in reply.

"Swap with me?" he grinned.

Wormtail looked him apprehensively, "Really? But I always sit here and I don't feel like going all the way around just because you want - whatare you doing?"

Sirius had in fact decided to duck under the long table and crawl up the other side to sit between Remus and Peter. On his way, he untied Peter's laces with his left hand just to piss the guy off, and propped himself up on Remus's leg with his right. As soon as his hand was flush with Remus's thigh, an onslaught of fuck sirius what the fucking fuck is happening sirius fuck what rushed into his head, throwing him slightly off balance. He struggled to keep an unsuspecting smile as he pushed himself onto the bench, shoulder to shoulder with Remus and trying very hard not to look at him, even in his peripherals.

"Getting my way Petey boy, surely this isn't new to you?" he joked, propping his head on his hand, intentionally facing away from Remus, who had gone back to hunching deliberately over the paper.

"Happens every day," Peter sighed, getting up and making his way around the entire length of the table to fill Sirius's vacant seat next to James. Sirius winked at him as he sat back down, before helping himself to the food in front of him.

The snippets of Remus's thoughts as the boy next to him kept straying into his line of sight, were almost as confusing as his response to Sirius under the table;

...smells absolutely amazing like always...

I mean sure? Hogwarts breakfasts were pretty good, thats not an unusual think to be thinking about. And even better, that was safe because it was very much not off limits and therefore definitely not a problem that he overheard it.

... just sitting next to me like...

Okay never mind that was very obviously about him. Should he not have sat here? First the leg thing and then this? Remus wouldn't take it as flirting would he? That would make him so uncomfortable, Sirius was sure. Except, well, he'd never been shy about being as physical with Remus as his other friends. He had been draping himself over the werewolf since his fourteen year old phase, and hadn't ever stopped. Also? There was no guarantee that Remus thought like he did about, you know, boys. It was very unlikely that he did, in fact, assume anything Sirius had done to mean anything more than friendship. Everything was totally fine.

...you can't just ask him that Remus what kind of friend just goes and...

Okay maybe not. Remus definitely saw right through him and all his uncommonly normal feelings and was going to confront him about it and he'd have to explain himself, and how he'd been lying to Remus all these years, and then the boy of his absolute dreams would be all grossed out and probably confused and maybe even disturbed and would definitely never want anything to do with him and... and maybe Sirius was spiralling just a bit.

Caught up in this whirlwind, body angled away from the source of all his internal anguish, Sirius didn't think twice about leaning into the hand that was placed on his shoulder, turning right into the concerned eyes of the boy next to him.

"You alright Pads?" Remus asked, carefully. "Your eyes are all flickery," he continued, waving his fingers for emphasis as he drew back his hand laughing gently, "like you've dropped something in your eggs."

Sirius snapped his gaze to his half empty plate, the weight of the soft amber gaze just too much. In that split second of looking at the boy he loved so dearly, Sirius had felt such fondness extend from him as if, as well as his thoughts, Sirius could feel everything he felt. As if something reached out from Remus and brushed gently against Sirius's heart, filling him with warmth and the most beautiful colours that danced through his mind and reached down into his throat, choking him with poetry he didn't know how to say until it hurt to breathe.

"Charms."

"Come again?"

Sirius stood abruptly, and backed away from the table, looking over everyone's heads.

"We... we have Charms, and we should go. To Charms. I'm going now. I'll see you there."

Sirius left hurriedly, catching a hushed what's up with him? from Remus as he made his way out of the hall.

He rounded the corner and pressed himself into the cool stone of an alcove hidden in the wall, just off the main walkway.

Sirius pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, trying to process everything that had just happened. He had never experienced a sensation like that. Seeing colours that so vividly felt like all the best things he had ever felt towards Remus was so strange and so perfect. He slid down the wall, hands over his face, as the realisation of just how difficult but necessary avoiding Remus was going to be sunk like water into his bones and made attempting to rise again feel weighted and exhaustingly inconceivable.