I spent one day writing 90% of this and three months finishing it up
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
1. Cheek
"... Family's who you're supposed to run to if anything's the matter, innit? Like Prongs and Pete, like how I used to t-think I'd always have Reg, even though he was a little shit, because he's my b-b-brother, but now they've kicked me out and it's h-hard not to feel s-s-so fucking alone in this stupid world, y'know? I just..."
It is midnight. They are sitting together in Remus's bed with their arms around each other. Sirius's shoulders are trembling in Remus's grip, Sirius's head sweaty and heavy against Remus's cheek. It is one of those moments again, those that James and Peter wouldn't understand, those that tug at Remus's centre of gravity and make his aching heart come alive.
"You have us, Sirius," he murmurs, stroking Sirius's sweaty fringe out of his eyes. "No matter how they try to make you feel about yourself. We're your friends. And I… I'm here for you too."
(Just like all of you are here for me. Even though Remus turns into a salivating beast every month. Even when Remus cannot be there for himself.)
Pressed up together, Sirius's heartbeat stutters against Remus's skin. He wishes he can will the tension out of Sirius's shoulders with a wave of his wand, soothe him to sleep with another kiss. But he cannot. He cannot, and one of these days he has to learn that he cannot simply love someone else's problems away. The world is far too unkind for magic tricks and promises.
"Thank you, Moony." Sirius's arms wind around his waist, and he looks up so his shining eyes are level with Remus's. "Thank you."
And then his mouth is against Remus's cheek, warm and damp, just for a second, before he pulls away slightly and leans his head into Remus's shoulder.
Remus runs his hands over Sirius's back, listens to his breathing finally even out into slow, deep sighs.
2. Mouth
"Remus," Sirius drawls. "Moony. My Mooooony. Did you know?" Sirius's cheeks are flushed and his voice is thick. Remus raises his eyebrows at him, trapped in a lazy circle of his arms from which he is only half-trying to extricate himself. In the Gryffindor common room not twenty feet away, the post-Quidditch party is in full swing, and James and Sirius, triumphant chasers, have been plied with way too much butterbeer in the last two hours.
"Yes, Padfoot. You scored seven goals today. I know." Remus places his hands on Sirius's chest, feels his own ribcage flutter. Warmth seeps into his clammy palms.
"And also, Moony..." Sirius gives him a little impatient shake, leaning in conspiritorially. "When Marlene was chatting me up, she said that she and that bloke she used to go out with never kissed until three whole months in! Three whole months, Moony. Even we've kissed!" His head leans sideways into Remus's shoulder, lips planting a sloppy kiss on Remus's cheek.
"Well." Remus grins and pulls him in closer. "I don't think she was referring to this sort of kiss, yeah?"
Sirius's eyes gleam. "So that wasn't counted? Greedy, Remus..." And then Sirius's hands are on Remus's shoulders and he is gazing right into his eyes - when did they even get this close? The air skips in Remus's lungs, and he briefly wonders if he has forgotten how to breathe, but then Sirius tugs his face to his and presses his mouth to his lips and, fuck, Remus has bigger things to worry about.
Sirius's mouth is wet and reeks of stale butterbeer. Remus's lips rub messily into it and their teeth click together, and Merlin, they are literally on the dormitory stairs where any tipsy Gryffindor can stumble by and see them. Remus gasps but it comes out like a sigh. He feels someone's hands pushing and touching, and he vaguely thinks they might be his own, but it doesn't really matter because the world is sucked into a blur of breathless heat.
When they part, a silver string of saliva trails between their lips, wet and cool, and the only functioning part of Remus's brain is left to register that, wow, his first kiss is pretty fucking gross.
And he kind of wants to do it again. (It feels like the start of something new.)
3. Eskimo
"In broad daylight, Moony? Naughty."
Their arms are twined around each other, foreheads pressed together. Snow falls softly onto Sirius's hair, glistening in his long eyelashes. Remus leans in closer, pushes his lips forward, but Sirius just giggles like a first-year girl and pulls away just out of reach.
"What happened to those Prefectly complaints about nasty couples snogging in public, eh?"
Sirius's hand, though, finds Remus's and twines their fingers together. His nose is pink in the winter air, and Remus bumps his own against it, as though they are Padfoot and Moony on one of Moony's good days, playing in the snow. Sirius presses in closer, rubbing their noses together in earnest. Laughter rumbles between their chests and Remus is sure he is going to smile until his cheeks fall off. Merlin, it feels like a fucking fairytale.
"We really aren't any better, huh."
4. Letter
Dear Moony,
Hope the Moon wasn't too bad and that your summer is going alright. Wish I could have been there with you. Hope the Honeydukes Bars make you happy. Can't wait to see you again.
Love you lots,
Padfoot
Remus's cheeks bloom with a traitorous blush. A smile tugs the corners of his mouth up, suspends the air in his lungs.
Last night's transformation was not kind to him; the transformations that take place in the holidays rarely are, with Remus alone in the basement of his parents' house, away from Wormtail and Prongs and Padfoot.
But he will be alright. Not least because his mother is looking after him and his friends have not forgotten him, and Sirius is sending him chocolate and love. He will be alright.
Remus glances furtively around to make sure that his mother has left the room, and presses Sirius's note to his face. He imagines that he can smell Sirius's hand, imagines the way Sirius's skin traces across the parchment, Sirius writing about wanting Remus to be happy. Love you lots. The rustle of his long fingers, folding the parchment up. Warm palms gentle around the envelope, safe against Remus's heart. Can't wait to see you again.
Remus's arms feel empty. His hands are cold. And so he presses his mouth against Padfoot's name, and imagines it reaching through the distance to wherever Sirius is now, whatever he is doing - gently wrapping them together, until they can see each other again.
5. Forehead
"Ah! My foot! Where the fuck are you, Moony?"
"Here…"
A dull thud, a muffled grunt, and then Remus's bed creaks as the weight of Sirius's body settles in beside him. Remus reaches over, instinctively by now, wraps one arm around the warm body beside him.
He feels the dampness of Sirius's breath against his neck as Sirius shifts closer. Sirius winds an arm around his waist, rolling him over, trapping Remus's other arm uncomfortably against Sirius's bony hip.
"Do you bring your wand to bed, Padfoot," Remus grumbles, trying to extricate his fingers, "or are you just very happy to see me?"
"Hey," Sirius snickers, adjusting them once again. "I'm always happy to see you, Moony. And much happier to sleep with you."
"Mutt."
"Your mutt."
Sirius's head settles somewhere near the crook of Remus's shoulder. Remus winds one arm around his waist, stretches the other over his head. And, finally, miraculously, it is comfortable enough for him to realise how tired he actually is.
"Don't you dare move," he tells Sirius, lazily, closing his drooping eyelids. His breath releases in a sigh. "This is the perfect spot. We will never find it again."
"Don't tell me what to do, Moony."
Without opening his eyes, he presses a vague kiss to the Sirius's… whatever it is, below Remus's chin. His lips meet a line of hair, the damp smoothness of skin. Sirius hums vaguely into his neck.
"Good night to you too, Sirius."