Written for Liza's Days of the Year Challenge: I'm Not Going To Take It Anymore Day - Write about someone who decides not to take something anymore.

Words: 1294

Sirius woke up alone for the second time that week. The empty space where Remus should have been was cold, so Sirius knew he'd been alone long enough for the sheets to cool. The realization made him frown. It was only Wednesday.

He sighed and rolled over, running a hand over the sheets and knowing that he should have been fondling Remus, not fabric. Sirius had never had any reason to doubt Remus, but over the past couple of months, he'd woken up alone more and more. What was there that was more important to Remus than him? Sirius didn't want to be too vain, but that something would have to be pretty big.

He wanted to know where Remus had been going, because it wasn't like him to just… undertake something and leave Sirius completely in the dark over it. And sure, Sirius could be spacey and miss some things that were told to him, but he always—most of the time—listened to everything Remus said.

The clock on the bedside table showed it to be seven in the morning. It was not a normal time for Remus to be out of bed, but he was It was not a normal time for Sirius to be up, but he needed cuddles. He listened to the silence throughout the rest of the flat; he would not be getting cuddles anytime soon.

"Remus?" he called out, just in case he'd been wrong.

There was no answer.

Sirius knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, not now, so reluctantly got out of bed and went over to his and Remus's shared closet. His t-shirts hung in line with Remus's cardigans, and at first glance, Sirius could tell that one was missing. It was the grey one he'd gotten for Remus about six months ago.

He took a lonely shower and had a lonely breakfast of toast and milk, and by the time he'd sat himself on the couch for a leisurely mope, Remus came home.

Well, he said 'came'.

Remus slunk in like a guilty man, his cardigan thrown over one arm and his shirt and trousers covered in what looked like mud. He rushed past Sirius to the bathroom, and Sirius heard the shower before he'd fully registered his boyfriend's return.

By the time he realized he wasn't alone, Sirius found himself in an even bigger slump. Remus hadn't even said 'hi' to him. Remus hadn't even looked at him. It wasn't fair, damn it, and he pouted harder. (No one had ever said that Sirius dealt well with conflict.)

He listened to the shower run, hit the bathtub, and eventually turn off. The taps squeaked and the showerhead groaned, and Sirius remembered how they always joked about it; they didn't have enough money to fix it, and now it was more of a joke than an annoyance.

Now, though, the annoying and painful sound of the water sloshing and the taps groaning only highlighted Sirius's loneliness. He hated it. He hated that Remus was sneaking around, he hated that Remus hadn't looked at him, he hated that Remus didn't want him anymore, and he hated the stupid taps for squeaking!

It was stupid, and unfair, and—

"Good morning, Sirius." Remus casually made his way into the kitchen, towel slung around his hips.

Sirius resolutely did not say anything. Remus didn't deserve it. (He didn't deserve it either, but did Remus ask? No, of course not. Remus, please come back to me.) Sirius pouted harder, looking at Remus out of the corner of his eye, but turning away when Remus looked at him.

He was angry and upset and Remus didn't look like anything was wrong, damn him!

Remus looked at him; Sirius wasn't looking back.

Remus turned away; Sirius stared at him.

Remus looked at him; Sirius wasn't looking back.

"What is your problem?" It was the first time Remus had ever yelled at him—sure, he was passive-aggressive, but he'd never raised his voice; it just wasn't who he was—and Sirius couldn't control his flinch. He looked away. "Sirius?"

"Nothing," he grumbled.

"It doesn't seem like 'nothing' to me."

"You're not me."

"No, I'm not." He was back to the calm Remus that Sirius loved. "I'm sorry I yelled. Sirius, please: what's wrong?"

He hugged one of the couch cushions to himself. "You don't love me anymore."

"What?"

"I said you don't love me anymore!"

Remus blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. "...what?"

"You don't love me anymore!" Sirius lifted his head from the cushion and glared. "You leave in the middle of the night. You come in and don't even say 'hi' to me. You don't tell me what you're doing. You… Remus, I thought what we had was special. I love you. The least you can do is tell me the truth. You're cheating on me, aren't you?"

"I…" And without warning, Remus doubled over laughing.

It was the strangest thing Sirius had ever seen, and he'd seen some strange things. Did Remus not believe him when he was being the most serious he'd ever been in his life? Or was Remus enjoying his emotional torture?

He wanted to slap Remus. To drag him out of whatever sadistic euphoria his suffering had brought him. He had loved Remus, still loved him, and if Remus was just going to laugh at the depth of his feeling and then tell him what—who—he'd been doing… there were only so many things Sirius's heart could take.

"I'm not cheating on you, Sirius!" Remus eventually managed to say. He straightened up, smiling. Slowly, the smile was replaced by a frown. "I can't believe you thought it was."

"Then what were you doing?" Sirius was furious. Remus could be composed, but most people weren't so alright with being accused of cheating. If he was being honest, he'd expected Remus to be mad or sad or confused. Not amused.

"I told you."

"You didn't."

"Did."

"Didn't."

"Did. Were you not listening?" Remus sighed and crossed his arms. "I told you months ago."

"What did you tell me, then?" He was accusatory and he wasn't sorry. Maybe he was. It was easier to focus on one emotion, rather than all of them, and if he focused on the good, he'd forget about the bad.

"I told you that Lily was starting a bakery—"

"What?"

"And she's asked me to help out. Just… set things up, you know? I've been helping her build up the kitchen and practice a few recipes, but we've had to do it at night because she works at the clinic in the morning."

"And you could tell me this before?" He stood up and marched over. "Remus, I spent months worrying! I thought you cheated on me! I thought you didn't love me! And then I confront you and tell you and all you can say is 'I told you before'?"

It was their first actual fight. Sirius couldn't believe it. He wasn't a naturally angry person, but he'd had enough experiences with people who were, and this mad, accusatory person… it wasn't who he wanted to be. And this angry, upset person in front of him… it wasn't who he wanted Remus to be.

To be sure, they'd need to work through it.

But they'd work through it over breakfast, like the civilized people they were. And they'd talk about communication and respect, and that if Remus decided to do more secret things, he'd be more insistent in making sure Sirius was listening. Sirius would make sure to confront his fears and insecurities sooner.

(Because, honestly, how many great shags and dates had they missed out on while Sirius was being paranoid and Remus was being evasive?)