Archive of Our Own ^beta

The dorm was quiet, unusually so. James and Peter were off doing Merlin-knows-what, and Remus, for once, had the room to himself.

Well, almost.

Sirius was draped across his bed like he owned the place, long legs kicked up, shirt rucked slightly from where he’d been “adjusting” his position for the last five minutes.
Remus was sitting at the foot of the bed, book open in his lap, but he hadn’t turned a page in a while.
Sirius stretched again, exaggerated, groaning just loud enough to be obnoxious.
“You know,” he said lazily, “for someone so clever, you’re being very rude to your very handsome company.”
Remus didn’t look at him. “Shut up.”
Sirius shifted, crawling slowly toward him now. His voice dipped lower, teasing. “Moony, don’t be shy. I know you’ve been thinking about it.”
“About what?” Remus snapped, finally glancing over.

Sirius gave him a grin full of teeth and trouble. “Me. This.” He gestured lazily to himself, sprawled and smirking. “Us. In this big empty dorm. Two days before the full moon… all that pent-up tension. It’s begging for a release.”
Remus stared at him. “You’re an idiot.”
“And you,” Sirius said, leaning in close now, close enough to feel the heat between them, “are a liar.”
That was it.
In a blink, Remus moved. The book hit the floor with a dull thud, and Sirius found himself shoved up against the dormitory wall, hard enough to knock the smugness right out of his lungs.
Remus’s hand was fisted in his shirt, breathing heavy, golden eyes sharp and hungry. Sirius gasped, startled but not afraid.
“Shut. Up.” Remus growled, voice like gravel and fire.
Sirius blinked, lips parted like he wanted to say something smart, something wicked—
But he didn’t.
Remus held him there for another heartbeat, chest rising and falling, gaze flickering down to Sirius’s mouth for just a second too long.
Then—like the fire had burned out—Remus let go, fingers loosening with startling gentleness. He helped Sirius down, steadied him as if it hadn’t happened at all.
He picked up his book, spine cracked open right where he’d left it, and stalked off to his bed on the other side of the room.
Didn’t look back.
Didn’t say a word.
Sirius stayed by the wall, still catching his breath.
And for once?
He had nothing to say either.
---------
James had barely taken a bite of his sandwich before Sirius threw himself down beside him with the weight and despair of a man wronged by fate itself.
“James,” Sirius said, eyes wide, hair wild, soul clearly shattered. “I’m doomed.”
James chewed. “Again?”
“No, but like—actually doomed this time.”
James swallowed. “Let me guess: this is about Moony.”
Sirius groaned and faceplanted into James’s lap. “I think I’m in love with him.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“Yeah, but this time it’s real love. Like, I saw the light, the stars, the stupid glint in his stupid golden eyes and now I think I’d let him murder me.”

“Okay—” James shifted uncomfortably. “You really need to stop saying that.”

“I can’t help it! He slammed me against a wall, Prongs. He growled at me.”

“…You’re smiling.”

“I know! It was bloody hot!”

James sighed, sandwich forgotten. “So… make a move. Merlin, Padfoot, you flirt with him every five seconds. What’s stopping you?”

“I have been making moves!” Sirius sat up, wild-eyed. “I basically threw myself at him. I was sprawled on my bed, flirting like a bloody champion—you should’ve seen it, textbook seduction—and what does he do? He nearly rips my head off and then gently puts me down like a kitten he’s trying not to scold. And then just—walks off. Like I’m the problem!”

James blinked. “That… actually sounds kind of hot.”

“EXACTLY!” Sirius looked around like he was about to tear his hair out. “But I don’t know what he wants! One minute he looks like he’s about to snog me into the floor, and the next he’s pretending nothing happened and going back to his bloody book like he’s immune to my charms.”

“Maybe he’s just nervous.”

Sirius scoffed. “Remus Lupin is made of restraint and polite disapproval. I’m chaos and flirtation. We’re doomed.”

“You could try… talking to him,” James suggested slowly, like he knew how that would land.

Sirius stared at him, offended. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”

“No, like actual talking. Feelings. Words.”

“I’d rather die.”

James patted him on the head. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Sirius groaned again, flopping back down like the floor itself had betrayed him.

“I’m gonna pine forever, aren’t I?” he mumbled into the carpet.

“Yes,” James said. “But at least you’ll be dramatic about it.”
-----
Sirius sat dramatically on the top step of the staircase leading to the girls' dorms, legs sprawled, one hand in his hair like he was auditioning for a tragic love ballad.

“Lily,” he called up plaintively.

Lily appeared at the landing, arms crossed, wearing a look that said 'I was enjoying my evening before this.'

“What,” she said flatly.

“I need your help.”

“Oh, Gods. Is it about Remus?”

Sirius blinked up at her, wounded. “Is it that obvious?”

“You were just in the common room making a tragic face at the fireplace like you’re in a Shakespeare play. So yes.”

Sirius groaned. “Lils, I’m losing it. I think I might actually combust if I don’t kiss him or punch a wall. Maybe both.”

Lily sat on the step above him, exhaling like this conversation was a personal tax.

“Don't hurt the walls.” She paused, "I don't understand what I could do though."

“Advice! Wisdom! A plan! You’re good with the feelings stuff. Or at least better than me and James. The bar is low.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You want a plan to seduce Remus Lupin.”

“I want him to want me back, Lils! I want him to kiss me like he means it and stop pretending I’m not flirting for my life every time I so much as breathe in his direction.”

Lily blinked. “Okay, so tell him that.”

Sirius paused. “What.”

“Tell him you like him,” she said with a shrug. “Be honest. Then fuck off.”

“…What?”

“Say it. All of it. Look him in the face, tell him how you feel, and then walk away. Don’t wait for him to fix it or figure it out. Just let it sit with him.”

Sirius looked mildly offended. “That’s evil.”

“It’s effective,” Lily said smugly. “And if he doesn’t come crawling after you within the hour, I’ll hex him.”

Sirius stared. “You’re terrifying. I love it.”

She patted his cheek. “I know. Now go be honest, you dramatic little bastard.”

Sirius stood up like a man marching to battle, chest puffed out, grin slowly creeping onto his face.

“I’m gonna do it.”

“You’d better. I’m sick of this slow-burn nightmare.”
------
Sirius had come upstairs with his chest puffed out, still riding the high of Lily's evil plan, ready to cause chaos and bare his soul in a blaze of glory.

But then.

Then he saw Remus.

Remus in his threadbare jumper, collarbone just barely visible, knees pulled up as he read something in dim candlelight, glasses sliding down his nose. There was a mug of tea forgotten on his nightstand, and his hair was all sleep-mussed and soft, and—

Sirius just deflated.

Like a balloon stabbed mid-flight.

No more bravado. No speech. Just Sirius standing there, helplessly fond and stupid, trying to remember why he thought anything in the world mattered more than this.

He wandered over like he’d forgotten how legs worked and dropped wordlessly onto the bed, curling into the space beside Remus like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Remus looked up, eyebrows raised. “Everything alright?”

Sirius nodded dumbly, eyes already half-lidded, cheek pressed against Remus’s thigh like it was the softest pillow in the castle.

Remus gave a soft little laugh—barely audible, barely real—and let his fingers drift into Sirius’s hair, brushing through it slowly.

Sirius melted. Fully, completely. He turned his face into the fabric of Remus’s jumper and let out a contented, muffled groan.

“This should be illegal,” he murmured. “You should come with a warning. 'Hazardous to egos.'”

Remus snorted. “You say that like you have an ego left.”

“Rude.”

Remus didn’t reply. He just kept carding his fingers through Sirius’s hair, absently now, like it was second nature.

Sirius sighed, half-asleep, all warm limbs and gentle gravity.

“You’re so…” he trailed off, words dissolving into a sleepy hum. “...annoyingly pretty.”

Remus huffed, flipping a page in his book without even pausing. “And you’re clingy.”

“Not clingy. I’m lounging. Gracefully.”

Remus hummed. “Like a very needy cat.”

“I will bite you.”

“Please dont.”

Another pause. Sirius curled in closer, arm draped lazily over Remus’s leg.

Remus glanced down and realized—with no small amount of fondness—that Sirius was already dozing, breathing slow and steady, completely boneless.

A smug little smile tugged at his lips.

“I win,” he whispered.

And maybe—just maybe—Sirius, half-asleep, managed to mumble back:

“Yeah… you do.”
------
Sirius noticed the shift as soon as he woke up.

Gone was the soft, cuddly Remus who had let him fall asleep in his lap last night like some scruffy domestic dream. The boy pacing the dorm this morning was not the same.

Remus was tense—too tense. His movements were jerky, like he was being tugged around by something inside him. His jaw was tight, and he hadn’t said a word when Sirius tried to say good morning.

Not a word.

Just a glance.

And Merlin. That glance.

Golden eyes, sharp and glowing in the low light, slid sideways toward Sirius like they were seeing through him. Not hostile—no, worse. Ferally indifferent.

Sirius stopped mid-step, halfway to brushing their shoulders, and backed up like he’d touched fire.

He didn’t say anything after that.

He didn’t dare.

---

By lunch, Sirius was a ghost.

He hadn’t sat next to Remus in the Great Hall. Didn’t try to meet up between classes. No teasing, no flirting, no dramatically lounging across desks in Defense just to watch Remus sigh through his nose in that way he secretly liked.

Nothing.

Every time Sirius saw him—across the courtyard, passing in the corridor, entering the dorm—he ducked out like someone had fired a spell at him.

Because honestly?

He was scared.

Remus wasn’t talking. Wasn’t eating. His eyes were glowing too early, his hands were shaking like they wanted to do something, and Sirius didn’t want to be the thing they did. Unless it was fucking.

So he kept his distance.

Watched from far enough away that Remus couldn’t catch his scent on the air.

He hated it. The distance. The way it made his chest feel hollow. Like someone had knocked all the wind out of him and left him walking around in the echo of it.

But the fear was real. It wasn’t Remus’s fault—he knew that—but that didn’t make it any easier to get close. Not today.

So Sirius disappeared.

Quiet. Careful.

Waiting.

That night, in the Shack, he didn’t even look at Remus when he changed.

Didn’t say good luck.

Didn’t dare.

And Remus?

He didn’t ask why.
-------
They’d run.

Hard.

Moony had burst from the Shrieking Shack like he had to outrun his own skin, wild with too much power and too little restraint. And Padfoot was right behind him, as always—his legs aching, lungs burning, paws muddy and sore, but never once letting Moony out of his sight.

They ran until Moony's frenzy wore thin, until the anger had bled into exhaustion and the forest started to still around them.

Now the moon hung high, casting long silver shadows across the clearing. The air was cold. The trees whispered.

And Moony—massive, ragged, beautiful—was breathing hard, his sides heaving, claws sunk into the dirt like he couldn’t remember how to let go.

Padfoot sat a little ways away, not too close. Waiting. Watching.

He knew better than to press in too soon.

Moony turned his head slowly, golden eyes meeting his.

And then, just… moved.

Crossed the space between them with slow, lumbering steps until the space was gone. His head dropped gently onto Padfoot’s back, just behind his shoulders. Not heavy—careful. Like even now, even like this, he was trying not to break anything.

Padfoot froze.

Then, slowly, he settled. Let his body lower to the ground, paws stretching forward. Let Moony lean into him, curl around his side like a too-large shadow. Let him breathe.

The wolf’s breath warmed his fur. A soft huff. A shiver. Then nothing.

Sleep found him like a surrender.

Padfoot didn’t move.

Didn’t dare.

Just closed his eyes and stayed there, still and quiet, his flank rising and falling under the weight of the only boy he’d ever truly followed into the dark.
-----
The room smelled like antiseptic and morning light.

Sirius sat slouched in the chair beside Remus’s bed, arms crossed on the edge of the mattress, chin resting on top. He looked like he’d been there all night—and he had. Too wired to sleep, too guilty to go. Too full of something he couldn’t name, burning under his ribs.

Remus was still out cold. Pale. Covered in bandages, jaw tight even in sleep. But breathing steady.

Sirius watched his chest rise and fall.

“Come on, Moony,” he whispered. “You’re missing class. This is your nightmare.”

He meant it as a joke, but his voice cracked halfway through.

A few more hours passed. Then, finally—finally—Remus stirred.

A slow, pained wince. Fingers twitching against the scratchy sheets. His eyes blinked open, unfocused at first, then sharpening slowly until they landed on the face inches from his.

“…Sirius?” His voice was rough, raw like gravel. “What time is it?”

Sirius sat up straighter instantly, a grin tugging at his face even as his eyes stayed wide with concern. “Morning. You missed breakfast, the world nearly ended, and James tried to explain Transfiguration to me without diagrams. Absolute hell.”

Remus blinked, trying to sit up, but Sirius pressed a hand gently to his shoulder. “Hey. Take it slow.”

“I can’t fall behind,” Remus muttered, already frowning. “McGonagall—”

“—would personally murder me if I let that happen,” Sirius said, reaching down to grab something off the floor. He plopped a stack of textbooks and notes onto Remus’s lap, already bookmarked and scribbled with margin notes in different handwriting.

“Here,” he said softly. “Everything from yesterday and today. I made James copy Peter’s notes. You know, for legibility.”

Remus stared at the stack, then up at Sirius.

“You’re ridiculous,” he whispered.

“Yeah, well,” Sirius shrugged, cheeks pink. “You’re insufferable about school, so.”

Remus gave a small, crooked smile. And Sirius—Sirius just looked at him for a second too long.

The sunlight hit his cheekbones in this golden way, and his hair was still sticking up funny, and he looked wrecked and stitched up and perfect and alive.

And Sirius stopped thinking.

He leaned in.

Pressed the quickest kiss to Remus’s lips, soft and sure, barely more than a breath, like a secret he had to let out before it killed him.

Then he pulled back so fast he nearly tripped over his own chair, muttered “Right, I have... to go... do things,” and bolted out of the hospital wing like the place was on fire.

Remus blinked at the empty space where Sirius had been.

Touched his lips.

And whispered, to no one at all, “...What the fuck?”
------
Sirius couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. All that was running through his head was that kiss. That fucking kiss—quick, too quick, a mistake, a big mistake, and now he was pacing the length of the Gryffindor common room like a man possessed, wringing his hands like he was going to combust.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO," he hissed to himself, staring at the ceiling like it would help him somehow. "I kissed Moony! I kissed him. And he doesn't like me back. Oh Merlin. I've ruined everything! He felt like he'd just been punched in the gut, and it hurt. It burned. Because, oh, no big deal, Sirius had been in love with Remus since second year. No pressure there. Totally fine. Definitely didn’t just kiss him and run out of the room like a nervous wreck.

He whipped around, still muttering to himself. “I am fucked. I am so royally fucked. What the hell is wrong with me?!”

At this point, he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed someone to talk to. He needed Lily Evans—the one person he could rely on for blunt, terrifyingly honest advice. She was probably the only one who wasn’t going to punch him in the face after he admitted to the world that he was the World's Biggest Idiot She might laugh but she wouldn't punch him.

Sirius ran towards the staircase and started yelling. When she finally popped her head out of her room Sirius didn’t even give her a second to greet him. He just launched in.

“I kissed him! I kissed Remus! And I didn’t even mean to and now I think I might die from embarrassment and confusion and—oh my God I don’t know what to do!”

Lily just blinked at him for a moment, staring at him in silence like he was a strange animal that had wandered into her personal space.

And then—

She leapt up, screamed a high-pitched “YESS!!!” that made Sirius flinch backward, eyes wide, jaw dropping.

“Lily?! What the hell—”

“FINALLY!” She was practically vibrating now, hands clasped over her heart. “FINALLY!!! Sirius, this is exactly what I’ve been waiting for since second year! You two are completely ridiculous and this is so perfect! You’ve liked him forever and I can’t even believe it took you this long!”

Sirius’s eyes were still wide. “What. No. What? You’re not listening! I didn’t mean to do it! I wasn’t—I wasn’t prepared for it! I just—I couldn't not! And—oh my god I kissed him like a total disaster and now he probably thinks I’m insane and—”

“OH MY GOD Sirius,” Lily cut him off, her hands going to her head like she was about to scream again. “I literally cannot believe you’re making this so complicated. He likes you back, you idiot! Remus has liked you for ages.”

Sirius froze.

“…What?”

“Yeah!” Lily was practically bouncing now, and Sirius just stared at her, blinking, processing. “You seriously didn’t notice? I swear to God, if you two were any more obvious, I’d have to start a betting pool.”

Sirius felt his heart skip a beat. “Wait. What are you—no. You’re joking, right? He doesn't like me. He—"

Lily rolled her eyes, marching over to him with a slight smirk, her tone taking on a teasing edge. “Do you honestly think he didn't like you? Seriously? He’s been just as obvious as you are. You think he didn’t notice you falling for him since second year? The moon-eyed looks, the way you both can’t stop being near each other? It’s like watching two cats try to fight their feelings.”

Sirius felt like the floor had suddenly given way beneath him. His mind was spiraling out of control. Remus likes me? He likes me?

Lily, sensing his imminent collapse, grinned slyly. “So now you just need to talk to him. You’re fine. Go to him. Tell him—don’t run away like you did this morning. You like him, he likes you—boom. Everything’s fine.”

Sirius stared at her like she'd just grown a second head. “Wait, wait, wait. You think I should talk to him? After this disaster?! After I kissed him and ran?”

Lily shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah.”

Sirius groaned and started pacing again. “I am freaking out, Lily. I’m going to mess this up! What if I say the wrong thing? What if he thinks I’m... weird now?! I’ve completely ruined everything, haven’t I?”

Lily laughed, shaking her head. “Sirius, you’re not weird. Trust me, you’re just as screwed up as he is—it’s fine. Go to him. Tell him how you feel. He’s not going to bite your head off.”

“You’re sure?” Sirius asked, still unsure, his eyes wide.

Lily grinned. “I’m sure. It'll be fine.”

Sirius exhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing thoughts. “Okay. Okay, I’ll do it.”

Lily, smirking, added one last thing before he could escape. “But first, can I just say—thank you for finally kissing him. You’ve given me so much to work with for the next few weeks. You’re the best.”

Sirius just turned and bolted out of the room, muttering to himself. "I’m dead. I’m going to die. I can’t believe I kissed Remus. What the hell is wrong with me?"
-------
The day after the full moon was always the hardest. But this? This was something different. Remus had woken up groggy, his body aching in places he didn’t even know existed, the aftermath of the transformation still lingering in his bones. It felt like he’d been running for days. Like he hadn’t slept in forever./p>

But worse than that was the gnawing, unsettling feeling in his chest. The one he couldn’t shake, no matter how much he tried. He’d woken up to a stack of books—his books—Sirius’s handwriting all over them. He’d been so exhausted, so disoriented, that he didn’t even register at first. The kiss? The rush of warm breath against his lips? The horrifying feeling that followed when Sirius bolted out of the room without saying anything?

He hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask.

Now, after hours of lying in this damn bed, he was being released from the infirmary—thankfully—and all he wanted was to find Sirius, to look him in the eye and figure out what the hell had just happened between them. But when he asked Madam Pomfrey where he was, all she did was wave him off, murmuring something about “young men” and “needing rest.”

Rest?

No. What he needed was to find Sirius. To talk to him. To get some answers because, at this point, his mind was spiraling with the endless possibilities.

But... where the hell was he?
----
Remus wandered the hallways in a daze. He walked past the common room, the kitchens, the courtyards—and not a single sign of Sirius. Not a shadow of him.

He checked their dorm. Empty.

He went to the common room. No Sirius.

He wandered down to the Quidditch pitch, checked the library, even peeked into the broom cupboard (just in case)—nothing. His heart was starting to sink lower with every empty corner, every empty seat.

What the hell was going on?

He didn’t even realize how tired he was until he found himself back at their dorm, the weight of the day and the moon pressing down on him. His legs felt like lead, his body begging for rest. And still, he couldn’t find him.

Still, he hadn't talked to him.

With a deep sigh, Remus dragged himself back up to the dorm and collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The silence in the room was deafening. He just wanted to talk.

And as his eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion creeping over him, he thought he might have just dreamed the whole thing—the kiss, Sirius running away, the kiss, the look on his face.

But then—then—the tiniest little flicker of warmth, of memory, swam to the surface of his mind. The way Sirius had been there, the way he’d looked at him, held him in the forest after the moon.

God, I’m so stupid, Remus thought to himself, already half asleep. Why is this so complicated?

And then, without even realizing it, he let the dark of sleep take over.
------
Meanwhile, across the castle, Sirius was spiraling again, trying to find his own answers—avoiding Remus like a coward.
----- Sirius couldn’t breathe. The entire castle felt like it was closing in on him, and every hallway he turned down only made it worse. He hadn’t been able to sit still all day. Not after the kiss. Not after he’d run out of the infirmary without a second thought. How could he be so stupid? Why couldn’t he have just stayed? Stayed with Remus and talked? Why did he have to leave like that? He’d been pacing the corridors, hiding in the library (where he was sure no one could see him fall apart), trying to figure out how to face Remus. How? How could he fix this? How could he go back to that moment, rewind it, and make it right? He needed answers. He needed to fix this. When the doors to the dorm finally opened, Sirius wasn’t even sure what he was doing there. His feet carried him up to their shared room before his brain could catch up, and his heart was thumping so loudly in his chest that he thought everyone in the tower could hear it. And then— There. Remus was there. The mess of his bed was a clear sign that he'd been in and out of it, but now? Now, he was just there, face buried in the pillow, the faintest hint of exhaustion pulling at his features. Sirius froze. He had no words. He didn’t even know where to begin. How could he? How could he explain the mess in his head without sounding like a total disaster? But he couldn’t leave. Not now. Not when it was just him and Remus. So, without thinking, he moved. He crossed the room in a few long strides, still in his clothes from earlier, a little messy, a little disheveled, his hair falling in his eyes, and slid under the covers beside Remus. No words. Just the soft rustle of fabric and the quiet exhale that only Remus could hear. Sirius curled up a little closer, just enough so that his shoulder brushed against Remus’s, his breath warm against the back of his neck. And then—finally—he let himself feel the weight of it all. Remus shifted slightly, eyes fluttering open just enough to realize that Sirius was there. He didn’t move. Didn’t say anything. They didn’t need to. The room was filled with a soft, steady quiet, and it was enough. Sirius had spent the entire day running from his feelings, from the mess inside his chest, and now—now he was here, beside Remus, not needing to explain a thing. Just this. For a long moment, Sirius lay there, half on his side, his eyes closed, his body as still as he could manage. He could feel the warmth of Remus’s body near his, hear the steady rhythm of his breath, and somehow—somehow—that was enough. Maybe there were still things to figure out. Maybe they needed to talk. But for now, this was more than enough. The steady beat of his heart slowed. His mind quieted. Sirius felt home again. ------ The days had stretched on. Weeks had come and gone, and Sirius and Remus hadn’t really talked about the kiss. Or the way it had felt. Or the way it had shattered all the careful walls they’d built between them, a secret they both carried in their chests, unspoken but always there. The truth was, Remus didn’t know how to bring it up. He didn’t know what to say. And Sirius—well, he was just as painfully silent about it. They’d both been dancing around in this strange, suffocating bubble of almost andnot quite, and neither of them could find the courage to break it. There were glances. There were moments. But no words. It was killing Remus. ------ It had been building for days now. Remus couldn’t stand it anymore. The constant tension between them was driving him insane—each time they bumped into each other, every time their eyes lingered a little too long, every time Sirius said something that made his stomach flip, it felt like he was going to explode. He was fed up. So done with the silence. This time, when he walked into the corridor and saw Sirius leaning casually against the wall, flipping through a letter he had just received, something snapped inside him. Without thinking, Remus marched up to Sirius, grabbed him by the wrist, and dragged him down the hallway. Sirius blinked in surprise. “Remus? What—” “Shut up,” Remus snapped, the words more out of frustration than anger. But he didn’t stop. He pulled Sirius along with him, ignoring the confused looks of students passing by. They reached the broom cupboard. And Remus didn’t hesitate. He shoved the door open, tugged Sirius inside, and locked it with a sharp click. For a moment, they both just stood there, the tiny room far too small, far too intimate. The air was thick with the tension that had been building for months. And then Remus, all raw and impatient, spun Sirius around, pressing him up against the wall with a strength that surprised them both. His hand was gripping Sirius’s wrist, his breath coming out in quick, shallow bursts. Sirius didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. His heart was pounding too loud in his chest, and his brain was buzzing, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Remus?” Sirius finally managed, but his voice was barely a whisper, lost in the silence of the cupboard. Remus’s eyes locked onto his, and in that moment, everything that had been unspoken for so long flooded between them. “I’m done,” Remus said quietly, voice steady, but with an edge of raw need. “I’m so fucking done with this.” Sirius barely had time to respond before Remus closed the gap, crashing his lips into Sirius’s in a kiss that was everything but gentle. It was desperate. It was fierce. It was a long time coming. And Remus kissed him like he was his oxygen—like he couldn’t breathe without him, couldn’t stand another second of this tension and the silence that had smothered them both for so long. Sirius’s breath hitched in his throat. His hands reached out instinctively, one landing on Remus’s neck, the other sliding around his waist, pulling him closer—closer until there was no space between them, until they were both breathless, lost in the kiss. The world outside the cupboard didn’t exist anymore. The whispers of the hallways, the students passing by, all of it faded into the background as the only thing that mattered was the taste of Remus’s lips, the feeling of his body against his, the heat of him, the rush of finally doing something about the years of unspoken longing. When they finally pulled away—just for a moment, breathless and still caught in the aftershocks of the kiss—Sirius stared at him, wide-eyed. His hands were still on Remus, his body still pressed against him. “Remus—” he started, but Remus didn’t let him finish. He kissed him again. This time, slower, deeper—like he was savoring the feeling of being able to touch, to taste, to finally have what they’d both been craving for so long. -------