Remus sat facing Sirius across a small table, lit by a dozen lanterns hanging from long strings tied to the branches of trees that swayed slightly in the ocean breeze coming off the Costa Rican coastline. Remus took a sip from the guaro sour he'd tried, watching Sirius drink his pina colada. He studied his husband, Sirius unaware of the scrutiny he was under, which always made for the best view of Sirius, Remus felt. When Sirius knew he was being looked at or watched, he tended to act a bit like a peacock - with or without the "pea-" Remus thought, and it was easier to see the real Sirius when he was in his own little world. Like right now.
Sirius's hair was drying out after a day spent by the ocean, and he was bronzing up even after only a day and a half in Costa Rica, his skin darkening like warm toast. His grey eyes lacked the sadness that sometimes Sirius would carry for days at a time, with or without an obvious reason, and his motions were fluid as he leaned back, a cigarette hanging from one hand, arm over the back of the chair, staring off into the darkness at the moon-lit ocean beyond the edge of the dock that was the home of the restaurant's wharf-side seating. He wore a tropical-printed shirt, open, with a tank top beneath which let the edge of his freckle-constellation tattoo show, and Remus's eyes travelled from that tattoo along Sirius's collar bone and up his throat, pausing at his Adam's apple before grazing over Sirius's jawline to his temple and over to his eyes...
Sirius's eyes were as grey as the Atlantic Ocean, Remus thought, the Northern Atlantic, that is, not the Pacific Ocean, or even the Atlantic in the south, where the water was clear and blue. But that dark and grey part, where it was easy to imagine it being fathoms deep, and containing innumerable things of a dark and mysterious nature. He started thinking of the northern bit of the Atlantic, or even the sea along the coast of east Britain, nearby to Yorkshire. That was the sea he was used to, close to home, where he would go with his mum and dad when he was small. They would collect shells and his mum would sing songs as they walked... Some of Remus's favorite early memories were tied up in that color... and of course many more of his favorite newer memories were the ones he'd made staring into those very eyes.
Sirius shifted and their eyes met. Remus smiled as Sirius raised an eyebrow and held his gaze.
Remus loved it when they did this, when they just caught one another's eyes and a thousand things would pass between them, entirely unspoken, like seeing into one another's souls. He couldn't give a summary of what was there when they did that - there were no words that described it - but the closest he could ever come would be to say that there was a connection, something made of pure shining gold if it were to be made tangible, like a lifeline that hung from Sirius to Remus, tying up their beings so that their souls could travel between them. A star twinkle from the interior universe of Sirius Black reaching out across the void to shine on Remus.
"For purely academic purposes," Remus started, pausing as he took another sip of his guaro sour --
"Here we go," Sirius murmured, an amused expression on his face.
"For our first year of marriage, how would you say we've done?"
"Excellently," Sirius answered. "Exceeds Expectations. You've earned yourself a N.E.W.T. in Marriage, congratulation, Moony."
Remus chuckled, "That wasn't what I was looking for, but thank you, I appreciate you know how much good grades mean to me."
"You are well underway to having earned yourself an N.E.W.T. in several other categories, too," Sirius smirked, raising his pina colada glass up, his eyes glinting suggestively. "You'll be taking your practical exam in that tonight, of course."
"Of course."
"No pressure."
"I'm not worried about it. I am, after all, the logistical expert around here." Remus flushed and grinned down into his glass.
Sirius laughed quietly, then leaned forward, putting down his glass, cigarette trailing a faint thread of smoke that rose up into the night sky. "It's fucking hot as hell when you're confident like that."
Remus looked up.
"My bold, insertive husband, I do love you desperately." Sirius took a drag off the cigarette.
"I love you, too, Sirius. Desperately as well. And every day I think I love you a little bit more. I know sometimes we have some - you know, ups and downs - but every marriage does and I reckon it only means we're growing more." Remus said, "I know there were things I could've done better this year, and I do feel sorry for the things I've messed up and the times I've hurt you or been separated from you this year. But I think we're closer now than we were last year at this time and I hope that I get to have a hundred more of these anniversary things, marking time shared between the two of us... but more than milestones, I hope that each time we do this, I can honestly look at you and tell you that I love you more because I know more of you to love."
Sirius could barely breathe, his chest felt rather tight as though it were overcrowded, as though his heart had expanded up like a balloon being inflated and the confines of his rib cage had become too small to contain all of the feelings that Remus's words had filled him up with. "That was beautiful, Moony," Sirius whispered. "How the fuck am I supposed to top that? Nothing in my heart ever comes out as beautiful as all that."
"Everything in your heart comes out a thousand times more beautiful than that, love," Remus said, shaking his head, "Bloody hell, Sirius, I have been thinking about how to even start to say that for days. You'd probably sat something like that just off the cuff and not even realize you were speaking poetry."
Sirius laughed, "I dunno about all that."
"It's true. Your mouth is constantly spurting off poetry like it's natural to speak it, like it's your native language."
Sirius stared off at the ocean again, taking another drag off his cigarette.
"It's one of the things I love about you," Remus said.
"I say a lot of stuff because there's a lot of stuff in me to say," Sirius murmured, his hand fluttering, the trail of smoke from the cigarette danced, illuminated by the glow of the lanterns over head, mesmerizing in a strange way. "And I say it all at once in whatever way it falls out because if I kept it in I'd go mad. If it comes out in a way that is in anyway sensical - much less poetic - then it is entirely an accident as half the time it isn't even organized properly in my head but more of a jumbled enigma that just crashes out the moment I open the gateway. Everything wants to be said all at once, and sometimes I have to slow it down and tell my mouth to mind itself." He paused, then looked at Remus. "My heart opens up and things just fall out. Which is an awful lot like how I fell in love with you. Explosively."
"See? There you go again," Remus whispered.
Sirius chuckled and put out the cigarette in an ash tray on the table.
They finished off their drinks and dinner and started off, walking back to the secluded bits of the beach where they could disapparate back to the bungalow where they were staying. They held hands as they walked, palms pressed together, fingers twined about, and pausing now and then for the view or else to let Remus's knees rest, passing other muggles out doing the same thing they were, enjoying the warm air - so warm that even Remus didn't have on a jumper, but a short sleeve t-shirt.
Sirius paused and bent to pick up a perfectly smooth bit of glass, polished and rounded by the ocean's currents and deposited there on the sand by the tide. The glass was pale blue and vaguely heart shaped. He turned it over in his palm, then turned and put it into Remus's hand, smiling, and Remus held onto it a moment before slipping into his pocket.
The seaglass had been through so much, yet it made it here, and it was beautiful, and Remus stared at Sirius, thinking about how they'd both done the same thing.
Sirius glanced up and down the empty beach, then leaned closer to Remus, taking his hands up in his own, and he brought his mouth right up close to Remus's ear and he whispered, "Time for your practical example, Mr. Lupin."
Remus smirked, then, with what he hoped was that confidence Sirius mentioned liking, he added, "I'm ready. I've been revising."
"Revising?" Sirius asked, surprised. "How do you revise for -- Remus, you know I'm talking about you giving me a good f---"
"Yes I know what you're talking about," Remus flushed, "Bloody hell, I was trying to do the thing where I play along with whatever ridiculous -- What? What are you looking at me like that for?"
"I just love it when you blush."
Remus murmured, "That's it - now you're in trouble." He stepped forward quickly, so their chests bumped against one another and they started to fall backward, right there on the beach but with a CRACK! he'd disapparated them both with such determination that they landed on the bed in their room at the bungalow and Sirius gasped in surprise when his back hit the soft mattress instead of the damp beach sand and he stared up at Remus, head nested in a pillows, a grin upon his face as Remus began his exam...
Hours later, Sirius lay in the dark, Remus's body curved around him, holding on to Remus's arm as it draped across Sirius's torso. He stared up at the ceiling, listening to Remus breathe.
It was going to be over - their anniversary trip - very soon, sooner than he wanted it to be, but Remus's classes were starting on the 26th and there was Minnie's wedding to get ready for and they still had Bradley back home, waiting for them. There were responsibilities and life stuff to get on with. Sirius needed to find a new job because, despite things having worked out alright in the end, Gomer Grimes wasn't going to rehire him.
He had a strange feeling deep in his stomach, a foreboding sort of feeling, and even though Achlys was silent, it seemed some other voice voice had taken up her role and was whispering to him... a distant echo, as though someone were speaking across a very great distance...
Sirius looked over at Remus, at the way the pale, barely-there moonlight played over the edges of his silhouette, how it turned his curls lighter and made his eyelashes look longer, how it reflected on the shiny silver-pink of his scars as they criss-crossed over his nose...
Sirius wished he could stay right there in Costa Rica, right there in that bed, right there in that moment because something deep, deep inside of himself was whispering that things were about to change, that this moment was the last of something, and the feeling crawled and squirmed it's way through all his limbs, making his nerves quiver so that he could scarcely lay still. He shifted his legs, restless, anxiety suddenly engulfing him.
He felt like he wanted to reach out and touch the walls, cling on with his fingers and slow things down. Grab hold of something and refuse to allow time to move forward. But time is heartless and it moves cruelly on no matter how hard you try at stopping it.
All we can do, Sirius thought, is hold onto the precious seconds while we have them.