I drew a line,

I drew a line for you,

Oh what a thing to do...

"I'm sorry," he said, feeling like there was a frog or some other foreign object stuck in his throat as he stood in his new bedroom at Potter Manor—an old guest room that James's parents had insisted was never used when they had welcomed him into their home permanently—the very next morning after his arrival.

"You're... sorry?" Hazel eyes blinked.

Once.

Sirius nodded, the movement as faint as his thoughts, downward angled black eyebrows pulled in, pain twisting bittersweet inside his chest.

Because Remus had said something to him, and he didn't care if it sounded numb or even a little mocking.

"I know, it's not what you want to hear," he continued on at a painfully slow pace, pushing through the heavy haze that was hiding his thoughts from him, the two feet of space between them feeling like a million, because he couldn't close it; and Remus wouldn't. "I messed up. I don't know what I was thinking."

His right hand tugged roughly at black locks that had gotten a little too long and unkempt since he'd left home, and he felt the urge to pull it out. "I just"—he tried to gather his words—"I just, sometimes I can't think straight. I don't know why. I. I just get all turned around."

Sandy locks dipped down to hide hazel eyes once more, Remus suddenly needing to watch the floor. "I know. I know you do... but I can't just pretend like it's okay. Because it's not. I'll always be your friend, no matter what, but us... what we had, it's over, Sirius. I just... I can't do this anymore."

Sirius felt his heart fall into his stomach, and he tried to nod his understanding but nothing happened.

And he realized something too late.

He did know what it was like to be in love. He had to.

Because he knew what it was like to lose the one he loved.

His breath jerked in his chest, laughing at him, and his thoughts grew more distant.

His lips began to tingle, and he heard himself say, "I understand Remus," and then when hazel eyes shot up, and a feeling that looked like guilt began to fill them, he added with a jerky shake of his head: "It's not your fault, don't feel bad."

And you know,

For you I'd bleed myself dry.

"Is this... is this all right?" Sirius asked, his words hard to get out as he breathed heavily, his hips shifting as he moved over the body below him after three long weeks since the 'Astronomy Tower Incident,' because Remus had pulled him onto his dormitory bed in front of a shocked, but finally accepting, James, saying it was okay, that Sirius didn't have to feel the same as he did.

He understood.

Sirius's chest filled itself with air almost painfully, and then forced it back out, leaving a weird aching tickle behind. "Is this all right, Remus?"

The sandy blond beneath him bit down on his lower lip, his eyes clenched tight. "Yeah, it. It hurts though, a little. It's been a while."

Sirius dipped his head down and placed a gentle kiss on parted lips. "I'm sorry," he said, slowing his movement to almost a full stop, and then his entire body decided to take a poll right there—unanimous in the fact that it absolutely loathed him—his cock the ringleader. But his cock could go to hell, because he only cared about Remus.

Well, maybe not hell, because then he couldn't shift his hips like that, angling them up towards the Gryffindor stained ceiling high above Remus's bed just so, and elicit that moan from his lips that told Sirius that maybe it was hurting a little less now, and that he could finally speed up some, so he wouldn't faint from all the extra oxygen soaking his bloodstream as he gasped for air at almost a stand-still.

"Sirius," Remus whispered, his words so raw, they almost didn't sound like a word, but a message instead, a secret message meant only for him, one he'd shared before with terrible consequences, "Sirius-"

He kissed him again, quieting him, silky raven locks falling into grey eyes, concealing the unsure emotion in them and brushing Remus's cheek as he continued to move over him slowly. "Best one-night stand ever," he murmured against gasping lips, smiling when Remus laughed, his chest fluttering against his and somehow warming it.

And he would swear he was in love, if he were a normal person without all the emotional scars messing with his not so solid mind, and if he was just certain he knew how it actually felt: to love, to be loved.

But he didn't, and he'd been wrong time after time, and he didn't want to do that to Remus—so he kissed him again, his hand trailing down his scar-kissed torso, using his body to tell him what he couldn't.

That if he didn't, he wanted to more than anything.

Look at the stars,

Look how they shine for you,

And all the things that you do...