A/N: Okay, so I know that I said I wouldn't be able to update within this month, but I was feeling suddenly motivated. I'm surprised I had the energy to finish up and update with this chapter and I'm so happy I got to. Please don't expect chapters to me this punctual after this, I really am busy, but it's just that I felt so excited for this one and I've been drafting for a long time. I love this chapter, and I hope you'll feel the same. Thank you for your support! Enjoy!

After finally getting the last of the dust off the bed we just made, Peter and I collapse onto it.

"Why is James excused from helping you move in, exactly?" Peter asks, as we stare at the newly-cleaned ceiling.

"Because he's preparing for his trip and I honestly don't think I can handle the version of him that has had a date with Lily already. Remus and I talked to him all night through the mirror. I'm not sure I can quite deal with that in person," I reply.

Last night, a bit after finally leaving the bathroom and silently thanking Remus for pretending to forget that I had just told him that his eyes were - ugh -beautiful, James gave us the full report on The Date. Then, Remus left the room and I told James how my night went. He just laughed until he couldn't breathe ("You told him – oh my god – and you actually? – Beatles song and just – oh Merlin I can't do this, you're amazing, this is amazing") and then disappeared. I question my taste in friends quite a lot.

Peter laughs, folding his arms underneath his head. "I understand. He Apparated into my room last night on his way back from walking Lily home and just tackled me. He kissed me all over my face yelling 'Can you taste the Lily on my lips?' then left."

I snort, shaking my head. "Maybe it's a good thing that he's in a different country for two weeks after all."

"Definitely," he sighs in a dramatic voice. "How's living with the boyfriend?"

I turn to glare at him. "Well, it's only been a day, so it's been fun. Although, I hardly think he'll be as welcoming once I tell him about our slight detour from when he sent us to buy more paint."

He snorts. "Slight detour? He's going to bloody kill ya."

"Nah, he loves me too much," I say, only half-kidding. "Even if he isn't really, as you put it, the boyfriend."

He looks at me and deadpans, "Five hours ago you two were arguing about which color to paint your walls so that it matches the couch. Practically married."

Returning my gaze to the ceiling to hide my reddening face, I just shrug nonchalantly. "Not my fault he thinks cerulean and turquoise are the same thing."

He laughs beside me. "Be careful, Pads. Your ridiculously-educated Pureblood is showing. Don't let your ol' mum win."

I roll my eyes and elbow him in the rib and I feel him squirm away, still snickering.

Then, we hear a voice from the doorway. "Why, what is he saying now? Did he slap you with a color palette, or...?"

Peter and I sit up to find Remus leaning against the door frame with paint smears on his cheek. The bedroom door is near the bay window in the living room, so the warm orange of the sunset is streaming into the flat in the perfect angle to make Remus' hair look a bit blond and his eyes golden green. The light plays with his angles, especially with his prominent cheekbones and jaw as he grins widely at us. He has his sleeves rolled up and the way he –

"Sirius?" Peter snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?" I blurt out.

Remus crosses his arms from the doorway. "You were spacing out again. You okay there, mate? I mean if you're that tired, we can just get going and fix up the rest of the place some other time," he suggests. "I mean, we all could use some rest after James causing us all sleep deprivation last night. I need to have a talk with Lils regarding her having to control her bloke."

"No, it's okay, I just –" But I cut myself off, suddenly feeling very welcoming of the idea of spending more time alone with Remus. Even though it will mean that I end up looking stupid. Again. "You know what? Yeah, you're right, Moony. We really should get going."

Peter sighs in relief. "Finally," he mumbles.

Then I see a smile on Remus' face that makes him look like he's as pleased as ever.

The next day, I wake up to see the clock on the wall reading 11:45. I rub my eyes and let my vision adjust to the blinding sunlight, as I sit up and look around Remus' room. Although we were tired from yesterday, after dropping Peter at his place, we ended up going back here and deciding to play a bunch of board games that Remus managed to find in the attic. We planned to play a few rounds until we got sleepy, but ended up staying awake until five in the morning, yelling at each other about point systems and whether it was fair to call dibs on Park Lane or not. The boards, cards, dices and tokens were still sprawled all over the floor in a mess. I smile to myself, remembering the night. But as I look to my side – to Remus' bed – I see nothing but a heap of blankets.

He never wakes up before noon on summer days, never mind that the sun was on the verge of rising by the time he fell asleep. I mean, before falling asleep, I did hear him tossing and turning. His nightmares have always been more constant when he's home. So I swing my legs off the bed and trudge out of the room, my brain still half-asleep.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I don't see a sulking Remus on the couch. Instead, I see him setting the table, which is laden with food that I assume he cooked.

He looks up and sees me. His eyes look tired and his smile looks unsure, but it's a smile nonetheless. "Breakfast? I mean, technically, brunch, but yeah."

I nod, moving to sit across from him. As soon as I sit down, however, I ask him, "Why so early, Moonshine?"

He shrugs. "Well, I had to catch my folks before they left for work. Planned to go back to sleep afterwards, but now I can't."

"Why, what happened?"

"I...Well, I talked to them," he replies as he pours orange juice into my glass.

I raise my eyebrows. "...About?" I ask, before shoving hash browns into my mouth.

He plays around with his food with his fork, glancing up at me. "Well, I kind of...Okay, so I kind of told them I was gay. No big deal."

Just like that, I feel my breakfast get clogged in my throat. I cough violently before getting through the ache of swallowing it whole, but eventually, I manage to talk again, failing to grasp what he just said. "W-what?"

"I came out to my parents," he says simply, before sipping at his juice. "Why is this a surprise? I told you the other day I was considering it."

I snort. "Well I didn't think you'd do it so soon! I wasn't even here!" I add before I can help it.

For the first time, a genuine smile appears on his face. "What, you want a show? Want to witness me coming out again because the last time you did, it didn't end so well?"

I frown at him.

His smirk fades and he gives a nervous laugh. "Sorry, bad joke," he murmurs, reaching out to place his hand on mine reassuringly. "I promise we're okay."

His touch is enough to make me ignore the comment. So I just nod and ask him the obvious. "How did they react?"

He laughs fondly and does this little shake with his head, his smile easing me again. "Well, apparently, she wasn't surprised at all and said that I shouldn't bother her with things she already knows when she's late for work. She was kidding, of course," he adds. "She just hugged me and asked really embarrassing questions that I'd rather not pass onto you while we're eating."

I chuckle and roll my eyes, trying my best to not grow too aware of his hand still resting on mine. "What about your dad?"

His face falls and I immediately regret asking.

"He didn't exactly take it so well," he murmurs, shoveling food into his mouth.

My eyebrows draw together. I flip my hand over and wrap it around his, giving it a squeeze. "What happened?"

"Well," he starts with a heavy sigh, his eye-bags looking more obvious now. "He got this weird look on his face and then asked me what turned me gay and, I quote, 'How long is this thing going to last, exactly?'"

My jaw drops as I try to take that in. "You're kidding."

He scoffs. "I wish I were," he mumbles. "But it could have been worse. I mean, of course I was hoping for a better reaction and everything, but once I got around to explaining to him, and mum threw a fit about how he reacted, he said that of course he still loves me and of course he accepts me for who I am. I reckon he's just uncomfortable about it and that he just doesn't understand. He really is a good bloke, though, and I guess he just needs more time, yeah?"

I smile at him reassuringly and tighten my grip on his hand. "Hey there, it'll be okay. Like you said, Mr. Lupin's a good bloke and he'll come around eventually. For now, you've still got a handful of people who do understand. There's Lily, James ...er, Ashwood, even. Me. And now, your mum. Plus, I'm pretty sure you don't need to tell Pete. Majority of the time, I think he's got us all figured out and he just keeps quiet about it."

He chuckles a little at that and then nods. "You're right. I mean, of course I know all that... it's just... I can't stop thinking about the look on my dad's face. Like he needs to convince himself all over again that I'm normal and well... Oh god, I can't get it out of my head. He kept looking at me like I had another condition to worry about and he's going to have to deal with it. It's rubbish, really, but it's hard to get over, you know?"

"Well then," I say, grinning and suddenly remembering something. "How about I take your mind off it?"

He looks at me and then shakes his head. "No bloody way, mate. Nope."

"Why?!" I exclaim, letting go of his hand. "I haven't even said what –"

"You don't need to say anything," he interrupts. "You've got that smirk on your face."

I frown. "What smirk?!"

"Your James Smirk."

"James Smirk? Really?"

"Yeah," he mutters. "That smirk you two get when you want to bugger things up. What did you do?"

"Please just let me get dressed and show you something, Moonshine," I whine.

He scoffs, leans back, and folds his arms. "Hah. Not until you tell me."

"Fine," I sigh. "Okay, don't go off your rocker when I tell you this because it really isn't a big deal –"

"I don't like the sound of this…"

"–I mean, it's not exactly dangerous, and I swear I had a few lessons from Uncle Alphard. It's just that when Pete and I said we ran late while buying the paints because we got lost, we kinda lied –"

"Jesus Christ…"

"–because we actually stumbled into this really ace motorbike shop, and Moony, my dream bike. It was right there just –"

"Oh god…Oh no, Sirius don't tell me that –"

"–waiting for me and –"

"You bought it. You bought a death trap," he deadpans. "And what, hid it at Peter's place?"

I scoff. "It's not a death trap!…And no," I add meekly. "We kind of snuck it into your garage."

He glares at me.

I straddle my bike out in the street and look up at Remus, beaming.

He crosses his arms. "I know you wanted to take my mind off things, but getting me killed is a bit too much, now, isn't it?"

Rolling my eyes, I let go of one of the handlebars to tap the space behind me, urging him to join. "Come on, Moony, just a quick ride, yeah? You'll love it, I promise."

"I don't have a death wish, you know."

"Rem!" I groan. "It's perfectly safe, I swear."

"Sirius, I am not going on that thing."

"Please?" I start to sound desperate. "Come on, let me cheer you up. Give me one chance. I'll take of care you, Moony, come on."

His stern expression softens and he rubs his temples. "I can't believe I'm going to do this," he mutters.

A rush of excitement fills me as I exclaim, "That's the spirit, Moonshine!"

I feel him easily swing one of his long legs over the bike, and seat himself behind me. It takes a while for him to ease into it, but when he's comfortably seated, I sense him moving his hands around.

"I- uh- I mean…Do I?"

I turn around to look at him. "What do you- Oh, right."

He smiles sheepishly at me with a questioning look in his eyes. "Do I…" he trails off, his fingertips touching my hips and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

"Um, yeah," I finally say. "Hold on tight."

His hands move cautiously to my waist, and he wraps his arms around me. It takes all I've got to focus.

"A bit closer," I mumble. "You might fall off."

"Well, that's reassuring," he mutters, but he follows my instruction anyway. He moves closer to me, his grip tightening. His chest is against my back, in such a way that I can feel his racing heartbeat. I get too excited, so I have to remind myself that his reaction is probably just caused by the fact that he isn't very trusting of my purchase, not because of the fact that he's pressed up against me.

"Ready?"

"No."

I smirk. "Let's go, then."

I don't know which is louder. The sound of the engine coming to life or the colourful string of words that effortlessly flows out of Remus' mouth.

A couple hours of later, I glide through the air jerkily and into the garage on the motorbike, landing with a roaring thud. As soon as I cut the engine, Remus stumbles off and backs away from me. With his back against his dad's old truck, he outstretches his arms in front of himself.

"Do not ever come near me again," he says firmly, although I can see him shake.

I bite down on my lip for a while until I can stop myself from laughing. However, I feel my mouth tremble a bit, which does not go unnoticed.

"Not. Funny," he practically growls. He takes a deep breath, obviously trying to keep himself calm. "You just fucking flew me all over bloody England. Somebody could have seen us. We could have died. You arse, how did you even manage to – you know what? I don't even want to know how you made that…thing fly, okay? I am… For fuck's sake, can I ground you? You're grounded."

I start laughing. "You can't ground me, Moonshine."

He frowns, crossing his arms. "Fine. Then I'm going to ground myself and sleep for the rest of the day because I haven't gotten any sleep, and, on top of that, a fuckin' wanker just took me on a ride a hundred feet above London. You're impossible, Black."

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad!"

"We almost crashed into The Shard at one point! I could have fallen off and died without ever warning the world that there's some idiot on the loose with a flying motorbike!"

"Oh, come on, Moonshine, you know I'd always catch you," I say, winking.

He scoffs, but I can see his expression softening. I swing my leg off my bike and nudge the kickstand down. Then I walk over to him, grabbing his shoulders. "Come on, really though, you've gotta admit that was bloody brill."

He rolls his eyes, but I catch the corner of his mouth upturn for a second. "You're impossible," he repeats.

I grin. "Really, though."

He sighs and finally lets himself smile. "Okay, so that did cheer me up. Don't get cocky. Now will you let me sleep?"

Laughing with relief and glowing with pride, I nod. "Okay, let's go."

We make our way back into the house and up into his room with his unsteady legs causing him to wobble from time to time. Of course, it's hard to be that worried when he's still having difficulty hiding his smile and keeps accidentally stumbling into me.

We drop down to our respective beds on our backs in sync, sighing out of exhaustion.

I turn to him, as he looks like he's about to fall quickly into sleep, curled up on his side and still fully dressed. I smile to myself.

The weather had turned particularly warm since we left in the morning, so I grab my wand from my pocket and flick towards the windows, causing it to fly and stay open, inviting a soft breeze into the room.

"Padfoot, keep the window close," Remus mutters.

"It's hot," I whine.

"Fine, but remember to close it later, okay?"

I raise my eyebrows at him, but decide to let it slide. "Sure, Moonshine."

His eyes start to flutter close as he softly chuckles. "I'm not too thrilled about that nickname becoming a thing."

"Ah, come one, it's adorable," I protest, grinning at him.

"Sure it is," he mumbles, his eyes completely closed now. "Hey, Pads?"

"Mmm?"

"Thanks…" he says timidly. "I mean, I'll kill you if you ever put me on that thing again, but…I had a good time, really. Thanks."

"No problem, Moony," I mutter.

I spend the rest of the afternoon skimming through Remus' books and talking to James with the mirror. When I tell him about the bike and how I charmed it to fly, I don't think I've ever seen him prouder. Then, of course, he proceeds to scold me for not waiting for him before taking it out on a ride.

It doesn't occur to me how long we've been talking until I notice the air getting colder and hear the loud rustle of the branches against the window. When I look out, I see that it has already gone dark. When I turn back, I notice Remus tossing and turning, muttering frantically. Another strong breeze rushes into the room and he winces again, a strangled sob sounding from his throat.

"Hey, James, mate, I gotta go."

James looks at me curiously from the mirror. "What's wrong?"

"I think Moony's getting nightmares again and –" I cut myself off, seeing his worried face. "It's okay, I'll take care of it, yeah?"

He sighs. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Say hi for me."

"Sure, Prongs. Talk to you tomorrow?"

"'f'course, Pads. 'Night, you two."

"Goodnight. You can return to your fit local girls now. Don't do anything stupid or Lily'll kill ya."

He rolls his eyes, and then his face disappears.

Another whine snaps me back into focus.

I drop the mirror and rush to his bed, sitting at the edge. I place my hand on his arm, shaking him awake. "Hey, Moony?"

He just shivers, his breathing still heavy.

"Remus, come on," I urge, wiping the sweat on his forehead and shaking him a bit more. "Hey…Come on, Moonshine…"

He jumps awake, his eyes flying open as he jerks into a sitting position, gasping. "There's a…I mean, there was a…It's…"

I grab his shoulders, looking him in the eye. "Hey, Remus, look at me. Just a dream. Just a dream, okay?"

His breathing slows, and he returns my gaze. "Yeah…I just…I don't know, I just –" then he stops himself, looking past me. Before I can turn to see what he's staring at, he mutters, "Oh." Then he grabs his wand from his nightstand, and with a wave, the windows go shut.

Confusion starts to irk me. "Um…were you just cold?"

"Sort of," he mutters. "It's not big deal, Padfoot. I just can't sleep well with open windows. Never have. I mean…you know, ever since…"

A sad sense of panic and trauma fills his eyes, and just like that, I feel a pang in my chest and I suddenly want to hit myself.

I remember how he had gotten bitten in the first place. Right here in this room. The werewolf breaking into his room and attacking him. The werewolf getting in through the open window.

"Shit," I blurt out. "Oh Merlin, I'm an arse, oh god, I'm sorry. I should have shut the window, I never thought –"

"No, no, no," Remus says hastily, grabbing my wrists to stop my hands from flailing around. "It's not usually this bad. It's just that, with the whole thing with my dad this morning, well, I guess I've been dreaming about it already. It's not some window's fault, really. I'm just…yeah."

I draw my eyebrows together, placing a hand on his knee. "What does your dad have to do with…that night?"

He sighs, rubbing the back of his head. "God, I can't believe I'm telling you this…Okay, you know how you were asking about why my dad seems more sensitive about the Furry Little Problem?"

I nod.

"Well, that's because the reason the werewolf who attacked me did what he did was because…My dad…My dad insulted this bloke because he was a werewolf. This bloke was brought in for questioning at the Ministry of Magic following the deaths of two Muggle children, apparently after being caught with a pack. The Ministry didn't know this bloke was a werewolf. However, my dad recognized the physical and characteristic signs in him. When dad spoke up and the Ministry ridiculed him for being 'mad', he lost his temper, declaring werewolves to be 'soulless, evil, deserving nothing but death.' The Ministry ordered him out of the room and after dad was forced to apologize, they let the werewolf go. That should have been the end of it, but well…he held quite a grudge. Found out where we lived, broke in, and yeah…I was his revenge."

Remus' expression remains blank as he says all this, but his voice keeps hitching and cracking. I feel my chest contract and grow heavy. I take his hand in mine and squeeze it reassuringly. He flashes me a tight smile before continuing.

"And I don't know, I guess it's just that this morning, he got this look like it was another burden that I've got one more thing that made me different and unacceptable. Like he had to protect me for even more things. Like the shame he felt when I was five came rushing back to him in full effect. And I guess I just feel guilty now because telling him that seemed to have put more weight on his shoulders. I should have just kept my mouth shut and –"

I squeeze tighter. Tight enough to shut him up. "Don't say that, Moony. Don't. You aren't supposed to feel responsible for this. Yes, he's feeling bad, but he shouldn't put the burden of how he feels – wrongly feels – about who are on your shoulders. You shouldn't ever hesitate to be who you are, okay? He'll come around, yeah, and sometimes you're going to have to be patient. But that doesn't make his reaction any less wrong. There is nothing wrong with who you are. There is nothing wrong with who choose to be and how you choose to show that. There is nothing wrong in the strength and bravery you have in dealing with people who can't see how amazing you are. You are so much more than the guilt your dad feels. You are so much more than what anyone feels about you. You're a person who shouldn't be fucking ashamed because nothing – not even being queer or being a werewolf – invalidates the fact that you can beat anyone in a duel with your eyes closed or that you can memorize The Beatles' discography or that you own the most ridiculous amount of nerdy jumpers and cardigans that only someone as bloody adorable as you can pull off. No one should ever be ashamed of who they are. Especially if that someone is as bloody brilliant as Remus fucking Lupin."

He gives me a watery smile and I smile back, brushing his hair out of his face. "You're perfect the way you are," I add, staring into his emerald eyes. "Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise…"

Without warning, he launches himself at me with a hug. I wrap my arms around him in return, holding him tight.

When he pulls back with his arms still around my neck, I see that his face is now tear-stained.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry, I–"

"It's okay, Moony," I mutter, bringing up my hand to his face, and wiping away the wetness at his cheeks. I let my hand stay there.

"Christ," he mutters with a shuddering voice. "I'm a mess..."

I lean forward, touching his forehead with mine. "No, you aren't," I whisper into the minuscule space between us. My heart is pounding against my ribcage, the close proximity making it hard for me to get a grip on my nerves. His eyes glow with such lovely innocence and I'm starting to stare; the only thing anchoring me from a complete trance is his rough hands as they move to my face. The feel of his warm fingers splayed against my skin causes my breathing to quicken, any more and I'll melt into a pathetic puddle.

"Sirius..." His eyes are intently boring into my own, and I realize he has leaned closer, for I can no longer have a full view of him. But I hear the desperate, but testing, tone in his voice and I feel his breath on my skin. At this point, I don't need to see him. I just want him this close. For as long as I can have him.

"Yeah?" I manage, my voice faltering.

"Where is this going?" he asks, a bit breathlessly. "What are you doing now?"

"I don't know," I mutter, but I do know. I keep my mouth shut before I say something stupid, like the truth, and resolve to keep it that way, but he sighs dreamily. He moves his hand down to my chest, clutching at my leather jacket, and his other hand finds his way to curl below my chin, tilting my head up for me to look at him straight in the eye again. Our foreheads are no longer resting against each other's, but somehow, we find ourselves closer.

So I take back my lie, and tell him my real answer.

"Remus..."

"Yeah?"

"I do know where this is going."

"Where?"

"Well," I mumble nervously. "It might involve me kissing you."

I wait for him to back away or tell me to stop. I wait for his hands to leave me. I wait for him to push me off the bed. But he doesn't. He does something different.

Tentatively, his lips brush mine. So I go for it.

I press my mouth against his, and he kisses me back, pulling me against him.

Just like that, my mind shuts down and my heart feels like melting. I suddenly lose track of where and when, and just let my eyes flutter to a close and take note of nothing that doesn't have anything to do with his soft lips that taste like chocolate or the way his hands roam up and down my chest. I feel his fingers through my shirt. Pulling and clutching and needing.

My heart hammers wildly as I nudge his lips apart with my tongue, and he obliges with a low whine at the back of his throat and one of his hand grabbing a fistful of locks at the back of my head. His urgency makes me moan against his mouth, my breathing getting erratic and our tongues in perfect sync.

Without thinking, I lean closer, tasting even more of his mouth and tracing his jawline with my trembling fingers. My other hand at his waist pushes him a bit down as I impulsively swing a leg over his lap, straddling him. He groans into the kiss as I roll my hips in response to his teeth scraping at my lips.

I keep snogging him and he returns each kiss with such fervor and passion, his hands gripping at me hard and his appreciative sighs flowing from his lips, matching my own.

I'm only about to form the thought that I want this little realm of touches and warm tongues and whines of pleasure to last forever, when he slowly pulls away and looks at me.

We're both breathing fast and heavy. I feel like my world has compacted into this tiny space we're in and I feel a warm glow in my chest as I see his beautiful face flustered and taste his wonderful mouth on my tongue. I smile and caress my thumb against his cheekbone, and he closes his eyes, leaning into my touch.

Merlin, he's gorgeous.

My mind starts working at a hundred miles per hour, trying to think of what to say. More accurately, trying to think of what he's going to say. A worried part of me hears his voice in my head, saying, "This is wrong, Sirius." A more optimistic, and frankly, smug part of me imagines his voice whispering, "I've been waiting for this for so long." A million possibilities resound in my head, making my heart swim both with hope and anxiety.

However, my thoughts stop working again when he opens his eyes and I see panic flood his gaze. He pulls away from my touch and looks at me with a face that resembles that of a kicked puppy.

I thought of a million possibilities of what he would say to me. None of them prepares me for the heart-crumpled-and-dropped-to-my-sick-stomach feeling of what he actually does say.

"Sirius, I...I'm dating Anthony."

Preview:

"But I am so in love with you, Remus," he whispers.