a/n: found this floating around on my computer and thought it was cute. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, unfortunately.
Something shifted behind Remus, waking him. Not something, someone. Sirius tightened his grip around Remus's waist and snuggled closer. Remus could tell he was awake. He rolled over to face his boyfriend. "Morning, love," he mumbled. Sirius didn't reply, instead lightly tracing the scars that covered Remus's face with one finger. There was an order to it that he always followed, as though he was mapping the werewolf's face. When he'd reached the end of the final scar he cupped Remus's cheek and leaned in to kiss him. Their lips met slowly and sweetly, in a calm, gentle way that only seemed to exist in the early mornings. Any other time, and everything was urgent. Stolen kisses, stolen moments, always acting on borrowed time. The war made it that way. They always had places they needed to be, people they needed to help. Mornings, however, made them feel like they had all the time in the world. It was these moments, somewhere between sleeping and waking, that reminded Remus what he was fighting for. Sirius pulled back, resting his forehead against Remus's.
"Someday," he whispered, "It'll be like this all the time."
Remus smiled faintly, "I hope so."