A/N: For the Sherlock Competition (Part 2, Prompt 2: write about someone in denial)
I.
Remus doesn't notice Sirius. Not in that way.
He doesn't notice the way lines form around his eyes when he gives a mischievous grin. He doesn't notice the way only the left side of his hair is a mess when he wakes in the mornings, or the way he pokes out his tongue whenever he's focused on copying Remus' class notes.
He doesn't notice any of that. At least, that's what he tells himself.
II.
Sirius notices the way Remus watches him. He waits for him to come around, to be honest with him, but he never does.
Sometimes, Sirius wants to shake him and scream, "You fancy me, you idiot!" But Remus doesn't appreciate the more direct, upfront approaches in life.
So Sirius waits, noticing Remus, noticing everything about Remus.
His skin feels too tight, and he grows restless, wanting to take action but forcing himself to remain patient.
III.
Sirius has changed his shampoo. Remus knows this because he's sitting a little too close, brushing against Remus.
"Something wrong, Moony?" Sirius asks, brows lifting.
Remus shakes his head. "No. Nothing," he says.
"Really? You seem a bit tense."
Before Remus can reply, Sirius is behind him, fingers kneading his shoulders. He manages to find all the right places, and his touch is surprisingly softer than Remus would have imagined.
Not that he's ever imagined Sirius touching him, because he doesn't notice Sirius, and he certainly doesn't think about Sirius like that.
IV.
Sirius brushes his hand over Remus' deliberately as they both reach for the last piece of chocolate. Remus draws back, crimson creeping into his cheeks like he's done something wrong.
Sirius grabs the chocolate. "Sure you don't want it?"
Remus shrugs, making a noncommittal sound.
With a grin, Sirius reaches out, pressing the chocolate to Remus' lips. "Go on," he says. "Open wide."
If possible, Remus blushes more deeply but hesitantly complies, and Sirius sets the little bar on his tongue.
V.
"You know what they say about denial, don't you, Moony?"
Remus looks up from his notes, caught off guard by the question. "I- What?"
Sirius sits too close to him again, and Remus swallows dryly. "It's more than just a river in wherever the hell it is."
"Egypt," Remus says automatically.
Sirius waves a dismissive hand, like geography isn't important. "You must be Cleopatra's husband, then, because you are king of denial."
"What are you on about?"
"You fancy me," Sirius says, so light and casual as though he'd just commented on the weather.
Remus sputters, shaking his head. "I don't- on earth would make you think that?"
"Denial," Sirius says in a singsong voice, an unmistakably victorious smirk on his lips.
"I'm not in denial!"
"It's okay," Sirius assures him. "Because I fancy you, too."
"You do?"
Sirius almost wants to thump him. For someone so clever, Remus has this annoying habit of being so incredibly thick. "I do."
Remus considers for a moment, wondering how he hasn't noticed during his time pretending not to notice Sirius. "Oh."
"I believe this is the part where you say I'm right and you've fancied me and my rugged good looks from the second you laid eyes on me."
Remus snorts, staring down at his trainers. "I fancy you," he admits.
"And this is the part where we run off to an empty classroom and snog to make up for your ridiculous denial," Sirius adds hopefully.
Remus climbs to his feet, pecking Sirius on the cheek.
"Close enough."