You Make Me Live (Remus Lupin x Reader One-Shots)

Five Years

Sirius was of no help, as usual. "Moony, you're drooling." He grinned, tongue flicking evilly at the back of his teeth.

"Oh, fuck off," he said softly, going back into the kitchen.

When she got out of the shower, and ventured into the living room, Remus was waiting with a hot cup of tea and a plate full of (too many) chocolate biscuits. She nursed the tea in both hands and sat on the carpet next to the empty space on the couch. Remus would have to sit next to her or risk looking incredibly awkward. To make it worse, over the clothes he had given her she had selected a worn, patched, blue and maroon bathrobe rather than the smaller, softer velvet one.

"This isn't yours, is it?" She asked Sirius, playing with the seam at her collarbone, her eyes wide and innocent.

"No," Sirius smirked over y/n's shoulder.

"Excellent," she took a biscuit and tucked in happily.

Remus was frozen in the doorway, holding his own mug. She looked beautiful. She looked beautiful and she was wearing his clothes. Shit.

"You're out of conditioner, by the way, Sirius."

"y/l/n! How dare you, that's sacred!"

Looking between Sirius' hair and y/n's, Remus jumped at the stupidest opportunity. "You've got a bit of knot there, y/n/n."

Her hand flew to the back of her head, "Oh. Thanks, Rem." She began working at it with her fingers.

"Here, don't do that. I'll get a hairbrush."

"She is not using my hairbrush."

"Padfoot."

"Your girlfriend has defiled my hair routine enough for one day, Moony." The word girlfriend made him shift a bit where he stood. He had to get out of the room.

"Fine, I'll get my comb, then." He made straight for the bathroom, and a chance to collect himself.

"What about your only female friend you haven't managed to shag yet? Doesn't she get to use your hairbrush?" asked y/n teasingly.

"Absolutely not. In fact, I daresay especially not."

"So the price of using your hairbrush is sex?"

"Basically, yes."

"Well, I guess we're both out of luck, then."

Oblivious to their conversation, Remus emerged from the bathroom with a comb, saying, "Here, since Pads is being an arse about it, sorry."

"Have you used Sirius' hairbrush, Moony?" asked y/n, a curious smile on her face.

He squinted suspiciously at the use of his nickname, "Yeah, all the time. So I don't get what his problem is." He ignored his friends' laughter and sat on the corner of the couch cushions, y/n scooted back on the white carpet so that she was settled between his legs. Remus felt like he'd gone into cardiac arrest. He gathered the knot in his hand and worked at the edges of it with the comb. When he'd finished, her hair was left soft and silken from the expensive conditioner and Remus took his chance to run his fingers through it one last time, under the pretense of checking for tangles. The sigh that left her lips when he did this caught him completely off his guard, it was almost a low moan, completely heavenly, and he felt compelled to escape to the bathroom again before she saw whatever his face must look like. When he saw her about to turn around, he leapt to his feet.

"Thank you," he could hear the smile in her voice and he closed his eyes, half in shame, half in ecstasy.

"Mm-hmm." He said, smiling though his whole body had gone rigid. "I'm just gonna -" he held up the comb between his fingers and made for the bathroom again. His feelings clashed with the sight of his face in the mirror and he nearly vomited from nerves. He hated the way blushing made his scars look. How could he allow himself to feel these things about someone so pure and whole? What made him think that he could ever deserve her? It was best if he just shut these feelings away, shove them down into the deepest, darkest portion of his soul where she could never judge him for them. They were just friends, and who knew how difficult it must have been for her to befriend a monster? Asking any more of her was cruel. He tucked the comb into his drawer under the sink, but before he could turn off the light and leave, a glint of silver caught his eye. He turned to find y/n's necklace hanging next to the pile of dirty clothes by the radiator. He ran his fingers along the black cord, which was still soaked. She must have hung it up to dry. Drawing the pendant up to his fingertips, he finally saw the image on the pewter seal. A howling wolf. He suddenly remembered the first time he'd seen her wear it. It was after the Christmas holiday in sixth year, right after she had found out about his condition. It had been like an appendage ever since, but he had just assumed it was a Christmas present.

'Maybe it was,' said a cruel voice in his head, 'It likely has nothing to do with you. Just let her go, you know she doesn't deserve to be saddled with someone like you.'

He let the necklace fall from his hand to swing back and forth over the radiator. He had planned to straighten himself up before going back into the living room, but when he turned around, there was a figure in the doorway.

"Thought I should give you your robe back." She held out the thick, heavy dressing gown in one hand, the veins on her wrists protruding from the strain.

"You could have kept it with you," he said, taking it from her. His voice sounded hollow now, no matter what he tried.

She just smiled at him softly, looking deep into his eyes. She did that a lot, and he had never allowed himself to wonder why. She looked down at the sign of movement, though, to see her necklace still swinging slightly.

"Sorry, I was just - I'd never gotten a good look at it before. I'd always seen you wear it, so."

"That's fine. It's just my Patronus."

"What?" he spluttered.

"Yeah, the Christmas after I turned sixteen it just - changed. I love it, though. Just wish I knew what it meant. . ." she stopped, laughing at herself, "Anyway, it's probably dry by now. It's kind of comforting, wearing it. Makes me feel like I have a purpose, somehow. Not sure why." She smiled down at the image resting in her palm. "You coming? Your tea's going cold."

The burdensome ache in Remus' chest had deepened, but lightened somehow. He smiled, just a twitch at the corner of his lips but it was more than he could have managed five minutes before. "Yeah, after you." He followed her into the living room and watched the colors flit across the television screen without comprehending a damn thing, because her head was resting against his inner thigh as she watched Top of the Pops, and even though his heart was beating faster by the minute he had never felt so calm in all his life.