The following week was spent in less innocent pursuits than their first night alone in the dormitory had been. Though they did not try anything new, there was less concern about keeping quiet with James and Peter gone. Sirius loudly moaning Remus's name as he came was often the catalyst which took Remus, cursing, over the edge with him. When Remus's hands were on him, all of Sirius's guilt and anxiety melted away, and he knew nothing but pure joy.
Christmas morning dawned bright and cold. Frosty sunlight bounced off a crust of snow to stream through the dormitory's open window, waking the intertwined sleepers.
"Happy Christmas," they mumbled against one another's mouths before hurrying to the bathroom to wash away the sticky residue of the previous night's activities.
Sirius's foot nudged Remus's under the table at breakfast as the handful of students and professors who had remained at school over the break exchanged holiday greetings. Even Professor McGonagall was brimming with Christmas cheer, and Sirius relaxed a little, allowing some of his own happiness to shine through as he greeted the English mistress.
After breakfast, the staff herded the chattering students to the chapel for Christmas services. Sirius usually found chapel unspeakably dull, but today Remus sat beside him, and there could be nothing dull about that.
Remus was not bored by chapel. He had once confided to Sirius that he found it peaceful. So far as Sirius was concerned, Remus was entitled to every measure of peace he could find. This morning, Remus was relaxed and bright-eyed, his rough but clear tenor voice sending shivers of pleasure down Sirius's spine during the hymns. Sirius had no gift for music. He had been informed on more than one occasion that if that was the best he could do, he should at least have the decency to do it quietly, so he kept his voice low, and listened instead to Remus, soaring through the familiar carols.
When they knelt in prayer after receiving the sacrament, Sirius admired Remus's profile from beneath lowered lashes. Head bowed, cheeks flushed, lips moving in silent petition, the honey-haired boy was the picture of innocence and pious devotion.
He's beautiful, thought Sirius, a soppy smile tugging at his mouth. He was just thinking of leaning over to steal a kiss while the eyes of the congregation were closed in spiritual contemplation, when Remus's lips moved, forming a silent Sirius.
Sirius's smile faltered as a wave of some huge, unnamed emotion welled up in his chest. He did not understand why it should so move him to know that Remus spoke his name to a god Sirius himself barely believed in, but it did. His throat felt tight, and he wanted very badly to touch Remus, but Amens were being said, and the worshippers were rising to their feet.
Sirius mouthed his way obliviously through Joy to the World, unable to focus on anything but the ache in his chest and the boy beside him who was the cause of it.
The service ended and they were released into the bright winter sunlight, but Sirius remained silent on the walk back to the dormitory. Some of the boys had arranged an impromptu holiday celebration in the common area, complete with tea, biscuits, and mince pies, but Sirius did not feel inclined to be sociable. Instead, he followed Remus down the corridor to their room.
Closing the door behind them, Remus gave him a mischievous grin. "I have something for you," he said, crossing the room to his bed. A brief rummage through his case produced a tiny parcel wrapped in brown paper which Remus dropped into Sirius's surprised hands. "Happy Christmas."
Sirius stared at it, feeling guilty. "I didn't get you anything."
"You've given me loads more than -" Remus broke off, blushing. "The least I could do was get you a Christmas prezzie. Stop whinging and open it."
Tearing through the thick brown paper, Sirius found a small wooden box with a sliding top. Inside were the crumbling green buds and rich organic scent of the finest grass to be had at St Godric's school. Sirius looked up, bewildered.
"I made some discreet inquiries," said Remus smugly. "Potter gave me the name of your supplier."
"Remus, this is too much. You shouldn't have -"
Remus waved a hand dismissively. "I had some pocket money lying around. Anyway, it's not just from me; Potter and Pettigrew chipped in, too."
Sirius bit his lip. "I - thank you."
"So?" Remus nudged him in the ribs, grinning. "Shall we try it out?"
They circled around the grounds the long way, not wishing to seem in too much of a hurry to be anywhere in particular, merely two friends enjoying a stroll in the fresh air and rare winter sunshine. When they reached the chapel, they glanced around to make certain they were not observed, then ducked behind the building.
They shared only one joint between them, but it was enough to give them a pleasant buzz. They were more interested in one another's company than the drug. It was not long before Sirius found himself on his back in the snow with Remus on top of him, his cold laughing mouth tasting of everything wonderful, though the thick layers of wool between them kept anything more from happening.
Christmas dinner was an enormous many-coursed affair lasting most of the afternoon. By the end of it, Sirius felt as stuffed as a Christmas goose, and pleasantly drowsy. So relaxed was he that he almost forgot himself and took Remus's hand during the short walk back to the dormitory afterwards. Remus appeared lost in thought, but he smiled warmly when he caught Sirius looking at him.
The dormitory was chilly and dark. Sirius knelt and laid a fire in the small hearth at Peter's end of the room. By the time Remus joined him on the hearth rug, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close, the flames were crackling merrily. They sat enveloped in the little pool of dancing light, reveling in companionable warmth and stillness.
"Good Christmas?" murmured Remus, lips brushing Sirius's ear.
"Yes," sighed Sirius. His hand moved to cover the one resting on his hip. "I'm glad you decided to stay."
"I couldn't very well let you keep Christmas alone, could I?" said Remus.
"Oh." Sirius turned to look at him, surprised. "I thought -"
"That I only stayed to get into your pants?" Firelight flickered in Remus's eyes, hiding his expression. "Enjoyable as that is, I do actually like spending time with you, Sirius."
"I like being with you, too," said Sirius softly.
Remus's answering smile was tremulous.
"What's wrong?" Sirius reached up automatically to push Remus's hair back from his cheek.
"I feel safe with you, Sirius," Remus admitted. "Safer than I've ever felt with anyone except my family. I haven't had the dream in almost a month. It scares me a little."
"Why?" asked Sirius, startled. His own nightmares had not put in an appearance since the first night he had found his way into Remus's bed, and he could only consider that a good thing.
Remus kissed his forehead. "Because I don't know what this is or how long it will last. It's bad enough thinking things could go back to the way they were before; I don't need my heart broken, too." His tone was light, but there was an undercurrent of tension in it.
"Never - I would never -" Sirius's chest felt tight, and he had to force the words out, eyes fixed imploringly on Remus's face. "I don't ever want us to stop. Remus, you're - everything."
Words ran out, but actions were better. Twisting in Remus's arms, he pressed their mouths together, trying to demonstrate his feelings for the other boy that way. When that means of expression also proved insufficient, Sirius pulled away and stood. Eyes never leaving Remus's, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, shedding it along with his vest. His trousers, socks, and pants followed with the deliberate slowness of a sacred ritual, until he stood naked before Remus, skin glowing in the firelight.
"Yours," he whispered fiercely.
"Oh," breathed Remus again. "Oh, Sirius. You're beautiful."
Sirius knelt, reaching for the buttons of Remus's shirt. Reverie shaken, Remus's hands flew up to grab his, holding them fast.
"Don't -"
"Why not?"
Remus looked away, biting his lip. "I - it's kind of a mess. There are a lot of scars. It's ugly. You don't want -"
"I don't care." Sirius's voice was low and thick with yearning. His hands squeezed Remus's. "I want to see you, Remus. I want to be with you. Trust me, please?"
Slowly, Remus released Sirius's hands. "I trust you," he whispered.
The words and the tremor in his voice clutched at Sirius's heart and he had to kiss Remus again before he could think of doing anything else, savouring the sweetness of those full, soft lips. This time, when his fingers moved to Remus's buttons, there was no protest, and when the white linen fell from his shoulders, Remus's shaking hands helped him tug the vest over his head.
Sirius's breath caught in his throat. Firelight gleamed on knots and slashes of shiny scar tissue. A blade passing too close to one dark nipple had left the round shape with a straight edge. The other had been cut or burned away entirely.
Sirius beheld the devastation for only a split second before tears blurred his vision. His hands splayed over the damaged skin, and he bent his head to hide the strong emotion, pressing his lips to the worst of the scars - a twisted pucker over Remus's heart - as if the feeling flowing through him might prove powerful enough to heal even that with a touch.
Tears spilled over as he closed his eyes, fingers stroking and touching, learning the strange textures of Remus's skin. Under his blind caress, the scars faded, and he felt instead the graceful arch of Remus's ribs, the warmth of his body, the fearful pounding of his heart.
"I can put my shirt back on if - if it's too -" Remus's vocal cords sounded ready to snap under the tension in his voice.
Sirius looked up into fearful brown eyes.
"It's nothing," he said, pressing his mouth to Remus's. "You're perfect."
Remus made a small choked sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. "God, Sirius! You're -"
But whatever Remus thought Sirius might be was lost in a kiss and a sudden rush to separate Remus from his trousers. Their fire-heated skins merged, and like wax figures, they melted into one another, chests and thighs and mouths and cocks. Remus's arms were around him, bearing him down onto the hearth rug, and Sirius went willingly, joyously, sliding his palms over Remus's scarred back, hungry for every inch of his skin to be touching every inch of Remus's.
"Please," Sirius gasped into Remus's mouth as their hips rocked together, sweating bodies seeking closeness, friction, rhythm. "Want you so much."
Something hot splashed onto Sirius's cheek, and he broke the kiss, shaken to see the flames glinting off the tracks of tears on Remus's face.
"Remus?" he whispered.
The other boy opened his mouth, then shook his head and kissed Sirius again as if he meant to drown himself in him. Sirius surrendered himself completely to his lover's desperate embrace, to bruising fingers and straining hips, and when Remus came, sobbing Sirius's name over and over again, he knew, this is it - this is real.
Climax bloomed through him like an epiphany - a slow, warm glow suffusing his entire body - until he lost all awareness of anything except for the trembling boy in his arms.
They lay quiet afterwards, Sirius's thumb stroking slow circles on Remus's shoulderblade, Remus's face pressed against Sirius's neck.
"Remus?" he said softly, when he knew he must speak or burst.
A wuffling sound indicated some level of sentient awareness from the limp, heavy form resting on his chest.
"Remus, what would you say if - if I said I thought I was falling in love with you?" He had hoped to sound casual, but the words left his tongue in a tense rush.
Remus came back to life, raising his head to gaze down at Sirius as half a dozen emotions flitted across his face. "I'd say -" His voice cracked and he stopped, swallowing. "I'd say you needed your head examined."
"Right." Sirius tried to swallow the painful lump of disappointment in his throat.
Then Remus's lips touched his. "And then I'd say that I really hope you are, because I think I'm falling in love with you, too."
A shaky sigh of relief escaped Sirius's lips, and he relaxed, closing his eyes, resuming the tiny caresses of his thumb against the skin of Remus's back, as Remus's head came to rest on his shoulder once more.
"Remus?" he said again a moment later.
"Hmmm?"
"I think I'm falling in love with you."
He felt the rumble of Remus's chuckle between his hand and chest. "Tosser."
A smile of pure happiness spread across Sirius's face, and he turned to press it to the top of Remus's head.
"I love you, Remus," he whispered.
A contented sigh misted warm against the skin of his shoulder. "I love you, too, Sirius."
The dormitory door crashed open and the boisterous conversation that had begun in the corridor ceased abruptly.
Sirius blinked up from where he lay on the floor before the blackened hearth - Remus in his arms, both of them rigid with the shock of sudden waking - and into the drop-jawed faces of James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. He could only be glad that it had been cold enough once the fire had gone out to warrant tugging the quilt off Peter's nearby bed to cover them. He glanced furtively down to make sure nothing personal was showing, drawing the quilt protectively over Remus's exposed scars.
"You're - ah - back early," he said.
"Thought - thought you lot would get bored without us," said James faintly. "Wanted to surprise you."
Sirius grimaced. "Well, you've done that."
"My Gran made that quilt!" squeaked Peter, scandalised.
Remus, pale and wild-eyed, tugged the quilt up to his throat. "It's - ah - very warm."
"You're - but - you two - you're not - are you?" stammered James, staring back and forth between them.
"Er - yes. Yes, we are," Sirius sighed, confirming the obvious. "Sorry. I would've told you. I just -"
But Peter paid no attention to the stilted apology. He rounded on James and punched him in the shoulder. "I said so, didn't I? You owe me a tenner!"