Descend - Wolfstar + Marauders

I Love You

Remus wasn’t expecting Sirius to be awake. He hadn’t made it home until late into the night.

His debrief with Dumbledore had taken some time. He’d become convinced that they needed a new approach with Annabelle, to reach out directly to negotiate. She didn’t have the same intense distrust of wizards that so many werewolves did. Given that she already seemed to harbor her doubts about Remus’ cover, he believed it might be more successful for a meeting to be set with Dumbledore directly. Remus would go back once everything was arranged, assess the safety of the situation, and approach Annabelle with the proposal. He didn’t think she’d be interested, but Dumbledore seemed confident he could convince her.

He was dreading the thought of returning, even if just to arrange the meeting. He couldn't see Andy again. He'd left without a word. It wasn't his fault that Andy was the living, breathing personification of his failure. He deserved better than Remus. They all did.

He’d closed out the long night with a trip to Madam Pomfrey. He came back clean on all her tests. She told him she was proud of him. He felt sick as she said it.

Sirius was not asleep when he got home. He was wide awake, Sex Pistols blaring loud enough that the neighbors would have called the cops if Sirius hadn’t set silencing charms. He was sat on the living room floor, a pile of playing cards in front of him that were being stacked into an elaborate castle, complete with levitated draw bridge.

There were records strewn across the living room, along with a pile of takeout containers on the floor beside the coffee table. They had clearly been set aside to make room for the game. There were days’ worth.

The tower of cards fell and scattered spectacularly as Remus opened the door onto the scene, Sirius standing up abruptly and knocking the table in the process. His unbrushed hair was falling around his pale, slightly sickly face.

“Moony, you’re home!” Sirius called out.

He whipped his wand in the direction of the record player wordlessly, halting the music with a dramatic scratch. Remus had hoped he’d have more time before having to face him. He seemed frantic. Almost manic. He hadn't decided if he was going to confess. He knew it would hurt Sirius. Probably end things between them for good. He didn't want any of that. He was so tired of lying.

“Hi Pads,” he said carefully as he closed the door.

Sirius rushed over to him but stopped just short of reaching out physically to greet him. He seemed nervous.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said painfully. “I’m sorry for what I did. Please don’t leave like that again. I’m-”

He was cut off as Remus kissed him. Deeply, passionately. Remus could taste Firewhisky on him. He held him close. A silent, desperate plea for forgiveness that Sirius could not understand.

When they broke apart, he looked around, noticed the half empty bottle by the couch. There were empties in the bin, too. Sirius didn’t notice, just stared at Remus in confusion.

“I thought you were mad at me. You should be mad at me,” he stated as if it were obvious.

“I was,” said Remus, feeling sick to his stomach at the guilt that Sirius had been so clearly harboring. “I’m not now. I know you did what you did because you love me. I love you too,” he said, reaching out and squeezing Sirius’ hand, begging him to believe it. I loved you even as I ruined everything, even as I took another man into my bed.

“I- yeah, okay. Okay,” said Sirius, struggling to change gears.

This time he noticed as Remus’ eyes wandered back over to the bottle, almost wistfully. He slapped his palm to his face, swearing. He whipped out his wand and pointed to the bottle, muttering ‘Accio.’ It flew into his hand, a little bit sloshing out of the open lid onto the floor.