Chapter Text
Remus sat in his bed, weary with sleep, stealing glances while Sirius took off his clothes. A deep ache pulsing through his body had awakened him just minutes before his friend came in with the intention to do the same. Still recovering from the full moon in the late afternoon of a rainy day, Remus couldn’t find much of an incentive to be up and about, doing things. James and Sirius felt differently, of course, and had spent their free time in an improvised Quidditch practice that left them both covered in mud.
Yet, now, there was only Sirius in the room, James off to change somewhere else.
“Had a good nap, Moony?”.
His voice was joyous, as it always was after Quidditch. He spoke whilst removing his muddy robe only to reveal more soaked clothes under it.
Remus threw him a smile that required some effort.
“Sure did”.
He could smell the scent of sweat and rain exuding from the wet garments.
“Well, come on then! Rise and shine, darling!”, Sirius exclaimed, opening the curtains swiftly before charming his robe dry.
The dim light that came through the dormitory window hit Sirius from behind, so shade hid what should not be stared at. Remus caught a glimpse of his friend’s silhouette almost involuntarily and it felt as if his restless eyes were betraying the innocent intimacy of the moment. He made an effort not to blame himself. After all, this was how everyone felt about the great, mesmerizing, Sirius Black, wasn’t it?
It was not the first time Remus found himself stirred by Sirius. From that very first train ride when they were mere strangers, there was no doubt the Black boy had some sort of spell, an ineffable magnetism that forced all eyes in his direction. Right away, Remus sensed it must have always been that way because Sirius was so used to the staring that he didn’t seem to notice, not once turning his head to the glances and whispers that arose as he walked by. Pleased by them, if anything. Remus did notice. The attention often drove him mad, yet he could not blame anyone, for he had felt it too; the urge to turn his head when his friend entered the room, to heed his words carefully, to study every gesture.
And much to Remus’ chagrin, after everything that had happened in the last year, it had only gotten worse. He would never have guessed that the pain of distance could be as excruciating as the pain of betrayal, yet, even when he had felt a nauseating loathing for Sirius, he still craved his presence. As if Sirius held some greater power over him. Something he could not do without.
It was over now and things had found their pace, but that disturbing realization had left its mark on Remus. So, in the last year, his fascination with the boy had only intensified, as he tried to find the exact source of Sirius’ power to make sure what happened would never happen again.
Everybody sees something in him. I’m just trying to understand what it is, he reasoned. The rationalization had turned into a secret mantra that Remus kept having to recite in his head, over and over again.
Now, it echoed while he contemplated the strands of wet, dark, hair that fell in disjointed ways over Sirius’s face, unable to look away when the boy shook his head, making droplets fly everywhere. Remus kept watching while Sirius blew the locks mindlessly out of his face with his mouth slightly open. He stood in an innately regal posture, removing his uniform as if he had an invisible string attached to his head, elongating his spine. There was an oblivious grace to the way Sirius moved that Remus found funny and dissonant: the gestures of a kid and a king at the same time.
As soon as Sirius started to take off his trousers, Remus grabbed the book that was sitting on his bedside table, filled with a frantic need to do something that gave his friend some unnecessary privacy. James and Sirius were always comfortable removing their clothes anywhere at any time, which was a practical consequence of both spending many hours in Quidditch changing rooms and having the privilege of looking like movie stars. Remus, however, was not comfortable with it, much less if it was just him and Sirius in the room, his scratched and scrawny body next to Sirius’ Michelangelo-sculpted figure.
Words fell out of him before he could catch them.
“So, how’s Mary?”, Remus asked.
“You know how’s Mary. Since when do you want to talk about this?”.
Remus recoiled quickly.
“Just thought she seemed a bit sad yesterday”.
Even if Sirius was right, he had turned around to hide his face, his voice pitching up at the end of the sentence. The signs of awkwardness he rarely showed. There was no need to say anything else because the message was clear: he would not discuss Mary with Remus. Mary was out of boundaries for him. Probably not for James, but definitely for him, who had been consistently eager to distance himself from the whole situation. Indeed, this was of no surprise to Remus. He already knew it. He wouldn’t have asked if it weren’t for the energy of the full moon that still buzzed around in his head. However, although it had not been intentional, he rejoiced just a small amount in Sirius’ discomfort. Accustomed to being the nervous one, he did not feel guilty, when the chance presented itself, to humble Sirius just a little bit. Being able to disarm the highest and mightiest of his friends was one of Remus’ secret pleasures.
Everybody wants to make Sirius Black feel something. It’s only normal.
Fully changed now, Sirius stood on the edge of Remus’ bed, looking eagerly at him in his regular clothes. Things went back to their usual flow as if the feelings from their previous conversation were carried away with the last drops of rain.
“Ready to go, sleepyhead?” he smiled, extending an arm out for Remus.
The sky shone lilac in the window behind him and washed every color inside the room with its pastel glow.
A wave of tension came over Remus as his hand clasped around Sirius’, who pulled him up. No matter how many times it happened, he still found it hard to keep it from showing on his face.
It’s just what Sirius does to people. This is how everyone feels about Sirius Black, Remus kept repeating to himself as they walked all the way to the Great Hall, the sides of their bodies occasionally brushing together.
This is how everyone feels about Sirius.