more than who we are
by Kait


The radio was what worried him.

Waking up alone in the middle of the night - that was all right. He would prefer to have Remus huddled at his side, but sometimes during certain phases of the moon the other man got restless. This wasn't new.

The light under the study door - also all right. On such nights Remus often sought refuge in the study, one of the only rooms that wasn't teaming with strange creatures and infestations. It helped that it was also filled with books and had worn, comfortable couches. Sirius reckoned his lover felt right at home inside.

But the radio... the radio was new. Remus liked quiet. He liked to concentrate. He almost never listened to the wireless and never at night. Sirius bit his lip as he stared at the dark walnut door. It was probably nothing... probably just a measure to block out Kreacher's continuous moaning. Still...

After a moment of hesitation during which he contemplated just going back to bed and waiting up for Remus, Sirius pushed the door open.

Nothing seemed out of place at first. The fire was going; Remus was curled up on a sofa in his favourite worn dressing gown. There was a book on the table in front of him, open, and the reading glasses that he used sometimes when he had particularly strong headaches. No, everything save the radio was normal.

Except... Remus was... no.

Remus was crying.

He couldn't hear any whimpers or sobs, the radio drowned them out. But his shoulders were hitching occasionally and his hands kept drifting to his face to rub at his eyes.

Sirius could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Remus cry. Twice that he could think of. The first time was when they had confronted him about his lycanthropy. The second was sixth year after the Whomping Willow Incident, when Sirius had finally been forgiven. Crying was completely out of character for Remus J. Lupin, Remus who was the strong one, Remus who had to deal with enormous pain each month since he was four years old, Remus who had lost nearly everything he held dear and still stood tall. Remus didn't cry.

But Remus was crying.

"Remy?" The nickname slipped out unconsciously. The sound slipped out unconsciously. He was as startled by it as Remus. The other man's head snapped around. He regarded Sirius with wide, bloodshot eyes, his cheeks flushed already but going even blotchier in a mixture of embarrassment and shock. "Oh damn... Moony..." Remus feebly wiped at his eyes and laughed shakily.

"It's alright, Padfoot." It was watery, but almost bashful, as if he felt so silly he couldn't rightly explain it. "I just... you know, I'm sure it's got something to do with the phases of the moon or..." Before he could finish Sirius had wrapped him into a hug.

"Remus..." he murmured, hugging him close. "Oh, Remus, what's wrong?" Another weak laugh. Another shaky sigh.

"Nothing... it's nothing, Sirius..." Sirius pulled away slightly to look at Remus. Their noses nearly touched as Sirius searched Remus' eyes. His hand automatically came up to wipe away the tears that were lingering on his lover's cheeks.

"Remy... I've known you since you were eleven years old. Twenty-five years. I have seen you cry twice. Please talk to me, love." Talking wasn't their strong point anymore. It used to be. Sirius used to confide in Remus things that even James didn't know. Remus, having never had real friends before, told Sirius things that no one else knew. They had been known, in their later years at school, when they were officially together, to sit up all night in the common room whispering things to each other until they fell asleep in one another's arms. But now... after all of the years and separation and solitude... they still hadn't fully gotten back into the habit. Remus' oral fixation had taken on the form of a drink or two every evening in front of the fire. Sometimes Sirius would drink with him. Sometimes they would talk. Most times they did not. Most times he just sat there and stared and wondered when the little boy who used to gnaw compulsively on chocolate when he was worn out had turned into the graying man who preferred whiskey and ice and chewing on his cuticles.

"I just... it's nothing, Padfoot. It's silly." Sirius relaxed his grip and slid back into the cushions. Remus did the same and looked down at his lap for a long time.

"Please talk to me," Sirius breathed almost silently. "Please, Moony..." When Remus looked up again his eyes were filled with fresh tears.

"We're in a war, Sirius." His tone was a mix between firm and frightened. "Again. We're back in a war. And three years ago I would have been okay with that. Because I thought I had nothing left to lose. But now..." He trailed off and looked away again, his tears on the verge of spilling. He wiped them angrily. "Now... in the past few years I've gotten almost everything back. You and James and Lily's son. A job that makes me feel worthwhile. Something resembling friends, comrades." He took a deep shuddering breath.
"People are going to die, Sirius."

"You said that," Sirius murmured, reaching out and taking Remus' hands, referring to their first meeting back in June.

"Children are going to die, Sirius. Again. They already have! But that's not even what I'm fucking crying about and I bloody hate myself for it!" The words were sharp but his voice remained low, quiet. He pulled one hand away from Sirius' grasp and wiped at his eyes again, growling a little at the tears that refused to let up. "I just..." He finally looked at Sirius. "Sirius... I love you. So much. It just... it hurt so bloody badly last time. Losing you. I wanted to die. And I can't do that again. I can't go through that again. Not after I've gotten you back. I can't be teased like that. I can't fucking take it!" A sob escaped his throat and his hands flew to cover his mouth, completely ashamed of the mess of a man he was becoming. Sirius did the only thing he could think to do. He pulled Remus into the tightest embrace he could manage and just... held him.

Remus pulled his hand from his mouth and clung to Sirius, shaking but remaining stubbornly silent.

"I love you... it's okay, Remus... Moony... it's okay... just... I promise I--"

"Don't bloody promise ANYTHING!" Remus nearly shouted, pulling away. "You fucking PROMISED fourteen years ago, Sirius! I asked if you'd be back for the moon when you left that night and you promised and you broke that promise. Promises are shit, Sirius." His breathing leveled. He hiccoughed once. Twice. His shoulders relaxed and he allowed himself to slump into Sirius' embrace again. "You probably hate me. I know how bloody frustrating it must be for you to be in here but at the same time... I sit there thanking the heavens that Dumbledore is locking you away. Keeping you safe. That even if you hate it and even if you're miserable you're still alive and I can still hold on to you every night." He laughed, but it came out more like a shudder. "I'm so bloody selfish." Sirius ignored him, kissed his forehead.

"You're no such thing. I wish the same for you. Every day I wish that you'd be detained here... stuck here with me. Harry too. Molly says... she thinks it's because I'm bored. No. I just... I don't want you two out there. I want you safe. I want you here with me where I can watch you and you can't be hurt anymore."

They sat like that for several minutes, Remus' face pressed into Sirius' neck, small sobs escaping occasionally. Sirius squeezed his eyes shut to hide his own tears, but eventually gave up and just tried to ignore them as he whispered soothingly and wordlessly into Remus' hair. This was so new to him... he wasn't used to being the one that did the comforting. It had been a long time since Remus needed him like this. It felt good, even if it was foreign, and he secretly hoped that their future would include more opportunities for him to make up for the pain his recklessness had caused on Halloween night fourteen years ago.

"I feel so old, Padfoot," Remus finally whispered, staring into space with his chin rested on Sirius' shoulder. "I feel like I'm jumping from thirty-six to one hundred. No. I feel like I jumped from twenty-two to one hundred, but that I hadn't fully realized it until now." His voice was getting slurred, his eyelids drooping. Sirius was warm and comfortable and safe and the more he concentrated on the other man's arms around him, the less he thought about the war.

"War does that to people. And we've seen two of them now." Silence. "I love you."

"I know. I love you too."

"Are you okay now? For tonight, I mean?"

"I think I am." He pulled away from Sirius, finally, much to his body's chagrin, and pressed their foreheads together. "Thank you." Sirius silently asked what for. /For that, you idiot./

/Oh./

Remus laughed at the embarrassed little look in Sirius' eyes and kissed him very gently, almost chastely. "I think you should take me to bed now."

"Take you to bed? What, your legs don't work anymore?" Sirius prodded him in the thigh, giving him a sly smile as he left his hand deliberately pressed against the warm skin.

"No, but I think that, for tonight, I have played the role of the weepy heroine who has no hope for the future and needs her lover to remind her of her will to live. That being the case, it's your job as the devoted, brawny, and somewhat hopeless lover to lift me from my solitude and whisk me off to our bedroom where you will proceed to remind me of my will to live by shagging me into the headboard." A pair of midnight black eyebrows arched.

"Oh really."

"Yes," Remus replied, inspecting and buffing his fingernails. "That is how these things go, you know. It's the normal routine."

"Well then. Far be it from me to break up the normal routine." He scooped Remus into his arms and kissed him again, standing up. "Does this mean that you're going to be on the bottom?" he teased. Remus kissed his earlobe.

"We'll see, love."

And Sirius carried him upstairs. And they made love and Remus forgot for a bit that he was scared half to death of what Sirius might do and Sirius forgot for a bit that he as scared half to death of exactly the same thing. And as Sirius lay there, staring at Remus as he slept, he made a decision. /Soon,/ he thought. /Soon. I'll tell Harry. Life's too short to keep secrets from the only other person I love this much./

.end.

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