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“The day came like fire and smoke. Low in the East there were black bars of cloud like the fumes of a great burning. The rising su-” Remus blinked, he definitely read this paragraph few minutes ago.
Only a few pages left before he could call it a day without any guilt. He could persevere.
Lying on his stomach on his bed with the book in his hand, Remus was supposed to be reading. Rereading, rather. But it had been an extremely distracting day.
Sirius was sitting up against the headboard, only inches away, working on the crossword for the day.
This was nothing new. A daily event that contributed to the warmest hours of Remus’ day, regardless of the weather.
There was a glaring difference today, though. Sirius was in his reading glasses.
It was a change that needed some getting used to. That would explain why Remus had taken to looking at the frown on Sirius' face as he worked his clues instead of getting to Boromir's greed.
For all the trouble his body gave him, Remus was lucky enough to have good eyesight. Sirius, on the other hand, lost the sharpness in his eyes to the passage of time.
Same couldn't be said for his stubbornness. He had initially refused to get his eyes checked and get some glasses prescribed. Something about matching way too much with James already.
They couldn’t be more different, from where Remus stood, but if Sirius insisted on squinting and putting things at an arm's distance just to read them, he was welcome to look like an idiot. Remus had made the sentiment clear to him.
In response, Sirius had blindfolded him that night. To prove a point.
Gently shaking his head, Remus tore his eyes away from Sirius. He hoped the warmth he felt creeping up didn't show on his face. Clearing his throat, he refocused on the task at hand.
“The day came like fire and smoke. Low in the Eas-”
Sirius’ glasses slid along his nose. He pushed them up, letting his fingers glide along his forehead and into his hair, messing it up. Remus looked down to the page. He was being inconspicuous enough, he thought.
From the corner of his eye, Sirius saw Remus fidgeting, staring blank at the page he refused to move from. He had seen him with this worn out copy enough times to almost memorize his rapid eye movements and quiet gasps of indignation.
Remus gave him none of that today.
Instead he took to looking at him like he lit up the entire room.
Sirius had to bite back a grin as he remembered a younger Remus with a smaller, worn out face, wearing a similarly fond expression.
Back then, he didn't think the look would be associated with him. It made all the sense and none.
He wondered what was going on his mind for his cheeks to suddenly flush.
"You know, Moony," he started, simply raising his eyes without lifting his head, "I’m not so sure you actually read." Sirius exhaled, as he made a show of folding up his paper and crossing his arms to look at Remus fully.
"None of us read muggle books,” he couldn't stop the corner of his lips twitching at Remus' confusion, “so you get away with it. Is that it?"
Remus was not entirely sure where this conversation was going. He knows for a fact that Sirius had read this very copy before. Just to argue with him.
But Sirius’ playful tone told him he was just preparing for a quip. So, he decided not to dignify this with a response and simply arched his eyebrow in question.
Sirius continued, "Tell me what's going on in the page that's open - don't look down, I can see you."
Remus looked a little bashful at that but furrowed his brows. Sirius' game didn't make sense.
"I could make up anything,” Remus started light, discreetly turning to the previous page, “and you wouldn't know," he added while dogearing it.
Sirius let his grin grow as his eyes flitted from the book in Remus' hands to his face. "But you didn't," he said matter of fact, "and I'd know if you made it up. You know that."
Remus let go of the pretense and put his book to the side. "How?" He cupped his chin in his palm, hiding his smile, "You would use legilimens just to check?"
It wasn't even a comeback much to his disappointment, but he didn't want to stop whatever Sirius started.
Sirius stared at him for a beat before bridging the small distance between them. He leaned forward and took Remus' face into his hand, holding him by his jaw. Remus' lips puckered into a pout in the process.
Before he could open his mouth to complain, Sirius kissed him.
Anyone who encountered Sirius thought him an enigma. Never quite placing him anywhere concrete.
Those who knew him from school would assure you he was casual about everything. The way he sat, crossed his feet, held his wand, down to the way he often spoke in a bored tone.
Those who were acquainted through the Order thought him intense. Arrogant, even.
Seeing him through it all, Remus figured these descriptors never encapsulated the Sirius he knew. They weren't wrong but it gave him a slight pleasure knowing he was privy to more.
He knew a Sirius who loved to cook something new and intricate when the Potters came over. He was surprisingly strict about no one entering his kitchen. If Remus wasn’t allowed to chop an onion, he was banished to the other side of the counter.
Sirius’ passion also meant he was meticulous. About everything worth caring for.
That meant he cleaned his bike every Sunday without fail after his grocery run while letting Remus sleep in. It was calming, he had confessed.
Remus never really understood how he had earned the extra hours to rest. Sirius looked at him silently when he voiced that one day. He had been on the receiving end of his kinder looks enough times to know that wasn't one, but Sirius wasn’t harsh about it either. He simply said Remus was always welcome to ride along.
After three weeks, Remus decided he wasn’t intense enough for this. But that had at least adjusted his body clock and allowed him to start waking up when Sirius did; a happy coincidence.
Observing Sirius stretch, change, and grab his keys was one thing, but he enjoyed it all the more when Sirius leaned down to drop a kiss against his temple. Almost a ritual.
It left him with the same high riding the bike had given him, only without any imminent threat against his life. His heart did beat against his chest, alarmingly fast.
Not so different then.
Knowing what he did, it still took Remus by surprise when Sirius kissed him like this.
Perhaps, only Remus knew how Sirius first slotted his lips to capture his bottom lip, gently suck at it, waiting for Remus to catch up. It was funny, Remus always needed a few seconds to reciprocate even after all these years. Sirius waited every time.
He rose onto his knees, clutching at Sirius’ shirt to support himself, and matched the fervor.
Remus knew no one else was privy to how Sirius loved to draw circles over his cheekbones and cover his entire face with his warm, calloused palms. Sirius pressed their noses together when he kissed him deeply, as if to meld their faces together and Remus wondered if anyone ever got to feel like he did.
Maybe not even Sirius.
He sighed, resigning to his fate, and melted entirely into the kiss. He moved to loop his arms around Sirius' neck, as he usually did, so that they could fall back on the bed.
It was practiced but never boring.
As if someone had pulled the rug beneath his feet, Remus felt cold air replace the warm breath that had engulfed his lips.
Sirius broke away.
Remus could feel a frown forming on his face. He almost whined, all senses lost.
And Sirius was softly chuckling.
Remus opened his eyes to glare at him but faltered when he saw how Sirius' glasses had fogged.
He couldn't help but join Sirius and chuckled. At the absurd turn of events and his pointed preferences.
As the fog cleared, Sirius grazed his face with the back of his hand, looking him in the eyes with striking softness, "Don't think I need a spell to read your mind now."