Title: To fall in love with me.
Pairing: Remus/Sirius.
Disclaimer: I wish.
Summary: Sirius keeps asking Remus to fall in love with him. Remus keeps saying no. But there's more to it than that.
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"I think you should fall in love with me," Sirius muttered off-handedly one afternoon; curled around himself haphazardly in an overstuffed chair. His knees kept knocking together clumsily as his head lolled against the backrest. But he didn't smile. James didn't say anything and Peter almost laughed; but one look at Remus's sharp brow and white knuckles and he fell silent too. Brushing gritty fingertips over the loose threads of his trousers and frowning.

The fire crackled like static in the background and Sirius sighed impatiently at the lack of response. He shook his glance between the four deep red walls and swung his legs over the arm before turning to look at Remus again. Casual but direct. And the others almost winced as they heard a page crinkle - and then rip.

"I said," Sirius repeated, lowering his voice, "I think you should fall in love with me."

His arm stretched to the corner of the couch and he placed his left palm flat over Remus's book when the only reply he got was a glare. He grit his teeth together, about to speak again when Remus looked up and caught the edge of his gaze. He shook his head and smiled sadly, pushing the pages closed as he pushed up from his seat. With his head pounding between his ears, he turned and left the room as quietly as he had entered. Leaving a whirlwind in his wake.

Sirius didn't sleep that night.

--

"Hey, Moony, you awake?" Sirius whispered as he dodged his way around cases and clothes and unfinished essays scattered on the dormitory floor. The curtains hung loose around Remus's bed and he almost smiled as he batted them open with one hand. "Moony?" he asked again and a pair of deep amber eyes jutted open.

"Hey," Remus said softly and his throat ached, and his muscles ached, and his stomach twisted in on itself with a growl. He coughed harshly to try and clear his lungs. And his head.

Sirius sat down beside him and smoothed back his hair.

"I brought you chocolate," he said, and Remus smiled back at him, "The good kind. Peter didn't even get his hands on it this time. And there's a glass of water on the nightstand. In case," he shrugged, "You know."

"I know?" Remus grinned. And Sirius shook his head.

"Yeah, you know!" he scoffed and they both laughed.

It was early afternoon and Remus had been in the hospital wing all morning, a rather unfortunate consequence of the Full Moon being the night before. Madame Pomfrey had offered him the same advice she did every other time (despite thinking he should know better by now) and told him to get some sleep. He usually insisted, rather forcefully, on attending classes anyway. At least the later ones. So she had good reason to worry. But he'd followed her rules precisely this time, feeling a bit worse for wear. And Sirius thought it apt to miss his own classes to check up on him.

"Transfiguration was pretty boring," he started suddenly, fidgeting with the bed covers, "McGonagall had us transfigure chalk into food. Necessity for survival or something. Peter ate his and threw up all over the table. Didn't do it right, of course."

Remus made a grab for the foiled chocolate sitting between them and shoved some into his mouth as he laughed.

"Typically." he commented.

"Typically," Sirius confirmed, thinking the crunching of the wrapper sounded like muggle television signals, and he glanced at Remus as if he thought it too.

"History of Magic was as dull as ever, though," he continued and he found himself breaking the bar into small chunks for Remus, "In fact, it was so dull today it made me wonder if I was the one who was dead." he paused, looking across the bed, and biting his lip, "I took notes for you though."

And that was all it took.

A huge grin erupted on Remus's face and he nudged Sirius gently in the side.

"No wonder you found it so boring then," he laughed, "Having to pay attention."

Sirius smudged his chocolate covered hands on his trousers and laughed too, "You're the only one I'd stay awake for."

--

Sirius was laid on his back under the huge oak tree by the lake. The grass was rough in spring and it pinched his skin when he stretched. Remus was sitting beside him, leaning against the trunk, with a long roll of parchment and a quill. He kept glancing up at the sun and smiling before reading diligently through what he'd written. And James was laughing, along with Peter, as they witnessed Snape tripping over the discarded cloak of a first year. The flush across his cheeks made their day. Sirius would have been laughing too if his mind wasn't already ticking over, timing its escape just right.

"Remus?" he questioned softly and everyone looked at him with varying degrees of curiosity. Peter picked a ladybird from the ground before he realised what was going on and he almost squealed when he felt it crawl across the back of his hand and up under his jumper.

Sirius nudged Remus with his foot and he looked up.

"I think you should fall in love with me," he mumbled, cleared his throat, then repeated a little clearer.

"I think you should fall in love with me."

Remus held his gaze a fraction of a second longer than Sirius thought he would before he glanced back up at the sun and then back to his parchment again.

"No," he smiled.

And Sirius shut his eyes to try and pretend that it didn't hurt.

"Okay."

--

They sat huddled on Sirius's bed in the dark. The thick curtains crossing windows and the only sliver of light coming from the slice just beneath the door. And it was enough. Sirius's shoulders were shaking and his hair was matted to his forehead, creasing into his eyes, and Remus held him and kept brushing it away.

"I hate this," Sirius cried in a deep hiss, "I hate him. I hate them. They don't care. They don't. They've said themselves. We're better off alone. Apart. In bloody ignorance. Yet they still have to ruin this for me, ruin everything they can. Just in case I think about disgracing the family name!"

"Ssssh," Remus hushed, clinging to his back, his hands smoothing down his shirt and Sirius's fists balling in his jumper, "Ssssh. They ruined it years ago. None of this is your fault."

"But it is!" he almost screamed, "According to them it all is. Gryffindor, running away, James's parents, you. Especially you. Regulus went --"

"I know what happened," Remus added, as Sirius trailed off into his neck. His eyes hot and sticky against the bare skin and it only made him hold on tighter, "I know, Sirius. Dumbledore told me everything. Nothing is going to happen to me, I promise. He said it's all fine and he said to look after you because nothing will happen to me at all."

Sirius fell silent for a moment and he followed suit. Carding his fingers through the back of his hair and placing a gentle kiss just above his ear.

"They only found out because of -- he only found out because I --" Sirius stammered but Remus shook his head.

"It's not your fault," he whispered again, "It was bound to happen sometime and Regulus was always going to go to Dumbledore when it did. I can't change what I am. There's no miracle cure. Even an idiot knows that. So I was quite prepared for the --"

"But you shouldn't have to be!" Sirius replied, halfway between a scream and a sob, and he hiccupped somewhere in the back of his throat, trying to push it away, "You shouldn't! If you weren't friends with me, if you didn't know me, if you didn't put up with me -- you wouldn't have had Regulus saying -- you wouldn't have Dumbledore and the --"

"Shut up," Remus snapped, tugging him closer harshly, his throat drying out and his words cutting nearer to that deep wrack of fear burning in his chest, of hate, of anger. Not for Sirius, not because of what they'd done, but because of how they were making Sirius feel. What they were forcing him to feel. And a shiver arched up his spine at the sudden thought of walking into the Black's rather prestige house and socking a good punch to his father.

But he forgot it all when Sirius's damp cheek pressed against his own.

"I just don't want you to hate me," he muttered, his breath stinging his skin, curling around and across his lips, "I don't know what I'd do without you here."

Remus nodded, pressing his own cheek back hard and swallowing the bile creeping up into his mouth.

"It's okay," he whispered, "It's okay, I'm here."

And that's how James found them when he walked in, a couple of hours later, Sirius crumpled over Remus, breaking. He didn't have the heart to tell them the curtains were still open.

--

Hogsmeade was relatively crowded for a winter visit, with a lot of the students back home in front of warm fires and Christmas trees and family. Remus was tucked into a woollen jumper three sizes too big and his ears stung from where the snow nipped them beneath his hat. Peter was walking around with mittens dangling from his sleeves (he claimed his mother still thought of him as a kid, James and Sirius thought he just liked them) and he kept rubbing his hands together every few minutes and checking his scattering of coins hadn't fallen through the hole in his pocket.

Sirius was walking in front of him and he couldn't help but marvel at the way his dark hair caught the snowflakes so brilliantly. And he smiled every time he counted an extra one or two between the strands. They turned when they reached the Three Broomsticks and manoeuvred their way inside. And for such a sparse scattering of people around, in there, it was like a whole different world. Butterbeers and firewhisky's spilling from tabletops and languages blurring together to a gentle buzz behind their eyes.

Remus took the table just behind the door and Sirius sat beside him, Peter fiddling with a beer mat whilst James went to get the drinks.

"Hey, Remus?" Sirius nudged him in the side and he turned to smile at the damp water now dribbling down his face.

"Padfoot, you're soaking!" he laughed and Sirius ran his hands through his hair roughly before grinning back.

"Hey, Remus," Sirius tried again and this time he raised a brow just as James reached the table with the drinks.

"Like a madhouse in here," he exclaimed as he slammed four bottles deftly in the middle of the table, "Rosmerta says she doesn't know where they all came from. One minute it was dead and the next --"

"Butterbeer James?" Sirius interrupted and he got a scowl in return, "Butterbeer?" he snorted, brandishing his bottle, "What are we, twelve?"

That got a laugh out of Peter who snorted thick foam from his nostril, mid sip. And they all joined in the laughter.

It wasn't until they were right near the bottom of their drinks that Sirius nudged him again, the mixture of thick butter lingering resolutely, waiting to stick to your taste buds.

"Remus," Sirius said and Remus placed his bottle on the table, deciding against it this time, and smiled; "Yes?"

"I think you should fall in love with me," his hands rested against the edge of an ashtray, his knuckles barely brushing the deep purple lettering. James and Peter pretended to ignore the whole situation, glancing around, as if desperate for something to take their attention away.

"Not this again," James muttered under his breath before knocking back the last of his butterbeer and standing up, "Right lads, I'm off to the bathroom."

"Me too!" Peter squeaked, pushing out of his chair a bit too hard and scurrying off through the swarm of surly afternoon drunks.

Remus turned to look at Sirius once the others had left and sighed.

"I think you should fall in love with me," Sirius repeated as a wave of raucous laughter bounded from the bar.

"What?" Remus asked, shifting uncomfortably on the seat.

"I think you should fall in love with me," Sirius repeated again, as another clap of jokes sang from the space before Madame Rosmerta.

"Sorry?" Remus murmured, trying desperately to buy time.

"For fucks sake," Sirius hissed, and yelled, "I think you should fall in love with me," just as everything else fell silent.

"N- no," Remus stammered as all eyes turned to them and he felt too warm for December, all of a sudden.

Sirius stared out at the sea of faces before slamming his chair back and storming out.

Once the silence subsided, James and Peter crawled back to the table, took one glance at the figure kicking snow sulkily outside the window and said to Remus, "What did he do this time?"

They all sighed collectively before wrapping back up and following him out. But by the time they got to the spot they'd seen him - he was gone.

--

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"What's going to happen to us after Hogwarts?"

"Well. You'll go off and become some genius. James will probably blackmail Evans into marrying him or something. Peter -- will be Peter. And I'll buy a motorbike."

"No. I -- I meant with us. Will we still be able to stay in touch? Be friends?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't we. I couldn't not see my--"

"Wait. Wait. A motorbike? A muggle motorbike?"

"What is more important here?"

"Yeah, you're right I guess."

"You know I am. But yes, a muggle motorbike. And I'll write to you every week."

"What about the full moon?"

"What about it?"

"I mean, once we've left -- we won't still -- you know -- Padfoot, Prongs, Wormtail --"

"I meant what about it as in do you really need to ask? You know we'll still come."

"What about when you all grow up and get married, have kids. I'll still be --"

"Remus, really, not a problem. Stop worrying. I'm not going to grow up."

"I'm going to miss you the most, you know."

"I know. I'm going to miss you too."

--

It was well after midnight when Sirius slipped into his bed and he shivered involuntarily at the warm body pressing up against him. Neither of them said anything as Sirius pulled the curtains around them and rested his head on Remus's shoulder. Neither of them said anything when he settled his arm across Remus's waist, or his stomach pushed into his hip, or his hand dipped a little too low.

The shadows chased the moonlight up the curtains and they both smiled.

"I really think you should fall in love with me," Sirius whispered eventually, his lips pressed right up close to Remus's ear and he felt the words before he heard them. His fingers tingled and he gripped tightly onto the duvet.

He didn't answer right away which only caused Sirius to press their thighs together and curl around him. His leg rested right in between Remus's and he tried so hard not to get too comfortable.

"Will you fall in love with me?" Sirius asked again and Remus caught his breath before shaking his head.

"No," he answered, the words catching against Sirius's lips in the dark.

They both paused and their knuckles brushed with their hips. And if they both closed their eyes there would be nothing to admit to. To talk about.

"Why not?" Sirius added, and Remus stilled. It had always been a statement. A simple statement. A joke, sometimes. Never a question. And never a wondering. He bit down on his lip and felt Sirius's so close to his own.

"Why?" he repeated. And Remus let out a shaky breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"Because I don't much like the thought of unrequited love," he stammered, and his heart shot up into his throat.

Sirius seemed to be considering it for a moment before he nodded.

"Okay," he mumbled as he sat back up and stretched, "Okay," and Remus could have sworn all of his sense followed him as he watched him saunter awkwardly back to his own bed.

--

"Come on, it's Christmas!" Sirius laughed as they stood rooted to the spot under a sprig of well placed mistletoe in Gryffindor Tower. They'd just walked through the door when it struck, holding them in place, and he regretted helping Sirius with the spell to make it, right then.

"But --" Remus pushed, his cheeks glowing under his scarf and his grip tightening on the books he had pressed against his chest.

Sirius just shook his head and leaned in, lips pressing to lips to hips to hearts. And their teeth crashed, and saliva trickled down their chins and their bodies were in just the wrong positions and Remus didn't dare move his hands or feet. Sirius ran a rough finger down along his jaw before wrapping his arm awkwardly around him and pushing their faces together. His nose ached from being squashed against cheeks and he kept opening his eyes to check he was doing it right. To try and mimic it. And then his hands were on Sirius too. And by supper, the whole of Gryffindor had heard of the way in which Remus Lupin had dropped his books and Sirius Black had kissed him senseless.

--

It was colder than usual on the train back to Hogwarts. A storm was lashing out against the windows and the odd spark of lightning darted out in front of them. But the rain was the worst, the dark clouds, closing the compartments into a dingy grey that caused the students to argue more than anything. It was the weather, James said, flicking through an old copy of a Quidditch magazine his dad had given him for the ride. Sirius had laughed and Peter had been too busy trying to pick something from the snack trolley to be paying that much attention.

As soon as the rocky mountains of the wilderness took over the view, Remus felt his head lolling and his eyes closing. Everything was weighing down on him and he ached. He hated travelling after a Full Moon. And he hated it even more when the usually pleasant scenery was coated in September showers.

"Moony?" Sirius queried softly as Remus's head landed on his shoulder, "Moony?" he smiled and rested his own head on top. James grinned at them behind his magazine.

"You were right you know," Sirius continued, seemingly quite happy to be getting no response, "When you said about it being unrequited. You were right. So I'm going to fall in love with you. I hope that's okay."

By the time they both woke up they were pulling into Hogsmeade station and neither had time to question the awkward positioning of hands and faces and lips in their dreams.

--

Dear Sirius,

I hope you are well. I am writing now as mum and dad are packing up the living room. We're moving. Apparently it's getting too tricky around here, what with me and the noises the neighbours have heard. Even the police have been called out to the sound of stray dogs. Or animal cruelty, mum heard one woman saying. She likes to listen in over the fences, you know.
But they thought the safest bet was for us to move.

Just in case you tried to write and your owl got lost. Or I couldn't reply right away.

It's a small place, but it's outside of Yorkshire. A wizarding pitch. It's not too bad from what they've been telling me. But it'll never be the same as home. Although I think Hogwarts is more of my home now. It has you.

And James. And Peter. Of course.

The wolf is unsettled without you. I don't like it.
It reminds me of what it used to be like before I met you. And it makes me grateful for everything.

I'll write to the others later but if you happen to be owling them first, could you please pass along the message?

I hope you're surviving.
You'd just better be on the train September 1st.

I miss you.

Love, Remus.

--

"I think I'm ready," Sirius said, as he dragged Remus aside during dinner. He'd been fidgeting nervously the whole afternoon before finally pulling him away before pudding and they'd marched outside of the Great Hall. Remus leaned against the wall and Sirius watched him carefully, breathing heavier than normal. Hands stuffed in his pockets.

"What for?" Remus asked, wrinkling his brows in confusion. Just before treacle tart, too.

They both looked away when they caught the edge of one another's gazes and traced the patter of their feet against the concrete.

"I think I'm ready," Sirius repeated, "On the train, I said I was going to fall in love with you. I think I'm ready to do that now. Then it won't be unrequited."

Remus started at him almost unbelievably, gritting his teeth together so hard it sent a gasp of pain down through his jaw and the back of his neck.

"You just don't get it," he hissed and Sirius shuffled closer.

"I get that you won't fall in love with me because you don't want it to be unrequited," Sirius clarified and nodded, reaching down and squeezing Remus's hand tightly before continuing, "So if I fall in love with you at the same time, there won't be a problem."

He glanced up through the mass of hair falling over his eyes.

But Remus pushed him away.

"No, no, you don't get it!" he screamed, yanking his hand free and stalking back to the doors to the hall, "You just -- I don't want to fall in love with you!" he yelled again, his throat tightening and his hands shaking, "I never wanted to fall in love with you. Don't you think -- don't you think I tried not to. I hate that it's unrequited and I don't -- I just --"

He stopped when Sirius stepped calmly in front of him, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he reached for his hand once more. Remus's eyes ached and his heart stung something terrible, but he was tired. Too tired of this. Of everything.

"I think you should fall in love with me," Sirius asked again. This time his eyes never left Remus's face.

"I can't," Remus replied, swallowing hard, "I can't because I already am."

He sighed and growled and screamed all at once, in whispers against the inside of his head, his fingers were starting to hurt from gripping Sirius's hand so tight and he felt the blood all rush to the very tips. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

But all Sirius said was, "Now ask me," and Remus was far from in the mood for games.

"I don't see why --" he started but Sirius shook his head.

"Just ask me," he whispered.

And Remus watched his feet again as he lined them up perfectly angular to a crack running across the floor.

"I think you should fall in love with me," he rushed out, unenthusiastically, and aching.

But, again, Sirius just smiled and nodded.

"Alright," he whispered, before he leaned in and pushed their lips together without a care in the world.

--

"Remus? Have you ever thought about us?"

"All the time. Some -- sometimes I think you're beautiful. I know it sounds stupid."

"Not at all. Sometimes I think you're beautiful too."

"Sirius?"

"Yes, Remus?"

"Sometimes I think I love you."

"Remus?"

"Yes, Sirius?"

"Sometimes I think I love you too."