The Comfort of Knowledge, Chapter 15
Why didn't it feel wrong?
It had been five days since he last felt those strong, pale hands tugging desperately at his clothes, and still the only thing he could think about was how right it had felt.
Sirius knew that he shouldn't want Remus as much as he did.
His cheeks should be heating up in embarrassment and shame at the memory of how much he enjoyed the boy's fervent actions in the bookshop.
He wondered at first whether maybe it did feel wrong...to Remus.
Every time that the golden eyes looked up at him when he entered the common room or the great hall or the library, Sirius' jaw would tighten painfully and he would wait for the regret to wash over Remus' pale features.
When they would brush by one other in the hallway, Sirius would bite the inside of his cheek, positive that Remus would tell him off for touching his hand as he passed.
When it didn't happen one time, he was sure it would happen the next.
But after three, four, five quick touches, the boy's reaction was still the same.
The golden eyes would snap to his, the same wild, hungry look from their first encounter flashing through them; the soft lips would part and Remus would inhale sharply – taking in Sirius' tentative smile with disbelief.
After a few moments of staring, the boy would bite his bottom lip gently and smile back.
For the few seconds that it took for Remus to do all that, Sirius' heart would pound painfully in his chest until Remus turned away.
They never spoke a word.
Sirius wondered if Remus, too, was worried about tainting what they had started with words or explanations.
When the bright, full moon rose into the sky that week, Sirius tried to ignore the twisting muscles in his stomach.
He'd heard that the transformation was painful.
He could imagine Remus standing alone, biting his lips to keep from crying out in pain.
Would Remus be squeezing his eyes shut tightly as it began?
Would he be clenching his fists as he felt his body change?
Sirius thought about the poor, soft skin and all those scars.
If it weren't for the books and essays laid before him, offering potential relief to Remus' pain, Sirius could imagine himself pacing the room like the caged werewolf must be.
For now though, he had a distraction.
The animagus potion.
Sirius sat for hours, biting his quill in concentration; making quick, messy notes in the margins; folding the corners of the most important pages.
When James and Peter returned from the common room, wide-eyed and curious, he merely waved a hand in acknowledgment and tossed a book to each of them.
He felt James' puzzled, questioning gaze on him throughout the evening but could not bring himself to explain.
Not now.
Not yet.
Sirius continued researching well into the early hours of the morning before his eyelids began to get heavy. It was a cold night. James and Peter had long since abandoned their books to curl up snugly in their own beds.
Sirius looked down at his hands to find that each one of his fingers had been stained with ink.
Through the window, he could see that the moon had already disappeared from the sky.
He sighed in relief and leaned back to rest his eyes.
It hardly felt like time had passed before Sirius was stumbling down to the Great Hall for a late breakfast before class. He quickly found his messy-haired friend among the dwindling crowd of Gryffindors.
"Sirius, mate, you, uh, decided not to have a shower today, I see..."
Sirius made a non-committal grunt as he took a seat across from his two friends.
"Merlin she's sexy when she's angry."
Sirius glanced up in time to see the glaring red head pass by without a word...the same way she had every day that week.
Sirius shook his head and reached for some toast.
"That's convenient," he remarked. "You'll be able to keep her looking sexy all the time."
James ignored him.
"She doesn't look quite so upset today, James," Peter offered. "Maybe she's starting to forgive you?"
Peter's words of encouragement were scoffed at by several of the surrounding students and James' lovesick expression turned into a scowl.
Pretending to look over at the glaring girl, Sirius scanned the length of the table and sighed.
Remus would probably be absent from classes that day.
Sirius would have liked to check up on the boy but he knew that if he turned up at the hospital wing looking for Remus the nurse would have questions. He certainly wasn't going to risk getting Remus in trouble by admitting to knowing his secret.
Much to James' bewilderment, he remained uncharacteristically quiet and subdued throughout the day. When their last class finally ended, Sirius quickly bypassed the Great Hall and made his way back to Gryffindor Tower without a word.
The common room was mostly empty. There was a small group of girls giggling by the stairs to the boy's dorms and a couple of first years playing Wizard's chess at one side of the room.
He figured it would be several hours before Remus was released from the hospital wing but he wanted to be there waiting.
It was a good thing there wasn't a clock in the room. He sighed despairingly and fell onto one of the sofas by the fire – staring down at his ink-stained hands until his eyes closed again.
When he next woke, it took him several moments to realize where he was and what it was that had disturbed his sleep.
He looked around blearily and quickly noticed the hand grasping his arm in a gentle grip.
He turned his gray eyes up to look at the owner of it.
Remus.
The boy was staring down at him with concern in his eyes. He looked tired but alert.
"Alright?" Remus whispered.
He nodded.
"I think you were dreaming."
Sirius wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to talk.
He looked back down at the hand still grasping his arm. The white edge of a bandage was peeking out from under the sleeve of the boy's robe.
Remus saw him looking and pulled his hand back quickly.
"Dinner's almost over, Sirius," he said softly, turning to face the stairs. "You should get something to eat."
I'm not hungry, he meant to say.
But Remus had gone up the stairs before he opened his mouth.
Frowning, Sirius looked around at all the students lounging in the common room.
When had they all come in? And why hadn't he heard them?
He recognized some of the fifth year boys that Remus shared his dorm with. None of them appeared to have noticed their friend entering – or exiting – the room.
Remus probably didn't want them to notice.
Sirius wondered if anyone would notice him leave as well.
He glanced around the room as he stood up to follow.
No one was looking his way.
He walked to the foot of the steps quietly.
Would Remus mind if he followed him to his dorm again?
He climbed the stairs in a daze.
He could always blame it on a lack of sleep...
The fifth years' room was dark and vacant like it had been the last time he had been there. Sirius' eyes were immediately drawn to the strip of light at the foot of the bathroom door.
Would Remus be half-naked again?
He crossed the room in seconds and knocked softly.
When he opened the door to find Remus facing the door – as if he had known Sirius would follow him – he felt a guilty flush creep up his neck.
Remus' school robes were gone but he still wore his uniform.
The black-haired boy struggled to keep his eyes fixed on Remus' face. He wasn't sure what to say.
Hadn't they – in their own strange way – agreed on silence?
Remus didn't look expectant in the least as he stared back at him. He was holding on tightly to what looked like a small bottle. A healing potion.
"Here, let me help," Sirius whispered quickly, startled by the sound of his own voice.
Remus looked surprised too. He stood for awhile, unmoving.
Without taking his eyes off of the boy in front of him, Sirius cautiously made his way across the room with soft, steady footsteps.
"Remus," he breathed.
He wanted to touch the soft skin.
Remus shuddered noticeably at the sound of his name but when he reached up to pull his shirt off, he removed it with steady hands.
Sirius' fingertips ghosted across the tense shoulders and down the backs of the scarred arms.
I imagined they were you, he thought.
Remus shivered.
They don't compare.
Sirius' fingers continued down until they reached the hand with the potion in it.
Remus released the small bottle into his open palm without a word.
Their eyes met in the mirror as Sirius poured some of the potion into his hand.
I imagined. I imagined. But this...
When he started to trace Remus' skin with the liquid, the boy's breath hitched but he merely watched intently as he leaned into Sirius' soft touches.
Sirius covered each and every scratch, cut and scar – taking much more time than he needed to.
And never saying a word.
When there were no more cuts left to treat, Sirius' hands fell to his sides and he raised his head to look at Remus' face. He thought he could see his own disappointment reflected in the golden eyes. It wouldn't have been the first time he saw something that wasn't really there though...
His eyes traveled over the pale face and down past the smooth neck.
He swallowed hard.
Remus' chest and stomach were littered with a few fresh cuts as well.
The boy followed his gaze down and, after a short pause, turned to face him.
"You don't have to," he breathed. "I can do these."
Even as he said this though, Sirius was reaching for the bottle again and pouring more of the potion out into his hands – staring at the body before him in silence.
Looking to Remus for permission, he waited until he received a small, quick nod, before reaching forward hesitantly.
Remus' chest, though slighter than his, was strong. He watched, mesmerized, as Remus shivered almost imperceptibly under his touch.
The feel of Remus' skin under his fingertips felt too right.
You're perfect, he wanted to say.
No words came out.
He was finished much too quickly for his taste.
Sirius looked down into Remus' eyes again and frowned at the dark circles he saw there.
"Did you sleep today?" he asked softly.
"A bit."
The boy hesitated.
"I've been dreaming a lot lately."
Sirius blinked. "Nightmares?"
Remus looked away and reached for his shirt. "Just dreams. It's not important. Really. I – "
"You could try sleeping with me," Sirius interrupted quickly.
Remus turned back to him, both eyebrows raised in surprise, and a flush immediately spread across Sirius' cheeks.
"I mean I could wake you," he amended. "If you dream..."
Remus stared.
"I won't –" Sirius started. "I mean I would never – if you're worried that I'd –"
He couldn't say it.
"You can trust me," he whispered finally.
The golden eyes studied his face again for a few seconds.
"I know."
Remus still looked worried about something though.
"You can come up to the sixth year dorms with me," Sirius continued softly. "James and Peter won't be back until later...I'll put up a few charms. They won't know you're there."
He didn't want to talk anymore but this sudden desire to hold Remus while he slept overpowered his need for silence.
Say yes.
"Stay with me, Remus?" he asked again. His voice had gotten softer with every word.
Remus' expression was pensive and he seemed to be working something out in his mind.
Please.
Sirius felt uncertainty flood through him as the silence stretched on.
He shouldn't have asked.
But just as he thought that, Remus let out a slow, soft breath, and answered.
"Ok."
The idea of sharing his bed with someone had never been appealing to Sirius.
What if the person kicked and stole the covers? Or snored? Or had some other aggravating sleeping habit that kept him awake?
Sirius had decided very early on that it was best to sleep alone.
But this was different.
Remus was different.
And Sirius' current inability to sleep could not be attributed to an annoying sleeping habit of Remus'.
The boy probably didn't have any.
No. All Sirius could think about was reaching across the space separating him from Remus and pulling the warm body close to his.
Remus' breathing had been soft and steady since they'd gotten in bed.
Would Remus let him hold him if he dreamt that night?
The thought was strangely thrilling.
Would Remus feel safe with him?
He hoped so.
Sirius turned on his side – rustling the covers as he did so – and tried to make out Remus' features in the dark.
How could the boy sleep so easily right now?
"You move around a lot."
Sirius jumped.
It was too dark to see Remus' face but he could hear the amusement in the boy's voice.
"Sorry," he whispered.
Remus laughed softly and that warm feeling spread through Sirius again.
If he moved his hand over he could touch Remus' soft skin.
"Warm enough?" Sirius breathed.
"Yes, thank you."
"Good."
Sirius started to turn over to lie on his back but stopped when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Thank you, Sirius," the boy whispered.
Sirius stared into the dark but still couldn't see a thing.
Why did it have to be so bloody dark?
He inched closer, taking hold of the hand on his shoulder. He wondered if Remus could see better in the dark than he could.
Remus shifted and Sirius felt the steady puffs of breath against his cheek.
Even that felt good.
Sirius turned and felt the boy move forward carefully until their lips brushed together.
He leaned forward in excitement but the warm mouth had already disappeared.
Now Remus was feeling shy?
Sirius smiled.
He could still feel the boy's breath hitting his lips; sharp and unsteady now.
"Remus?"
The boy's breath tickled his lips. "Yes?"
"I think you should sleep here from now on."
Remus didn't answer.
He just buried his nose in Sirius' warm neck and slept.