Author’s Note: Much love to the betas, Ivy and Kathleen, again. One more time, proper capitalization is what? :o)

 

It should have been too dark to see his hand in front of his face. He knew that. It was the reason he was waving it about in the first place- to confirm that, yes, despite the hour he could still see it. He wouldn't have been able to at Hogwarts. But he wasn't there anymore, hadn't been for two months now. And wouldn't be ever again. He was here, in back of this run-down, dilapidated, one-story, poor excuse for a house, nearly poking himself in the eye trying to prove a point. Not that he was complaining, Sirius and James were here too, and Peter. It was a home, no matter that by all laws of science and nature, it shouldn't even be standing.

Mrs. Potter had insisted that the 'boys' (she never called them Marauders, even when a twelve year old Sirius had insisted upon it and refused to answer to anything else) take the summer to relax. They'd earned it. They'd all passed their NEWTs, ranging from near top scores across the board (Sirius and James) to getting by on sheer luck (Peter). Remus was floating about in the middle. As always. He'd done well, particularly in DADA and Charms and Transfiguration…all right, so he'd gotten near top marks in everything too, it just seemed that he hadn't done it with quite the flair Sirius and James had.

So that brought them here, to this house, to this Muggle neighborhood, where they wiled away their days, pretending, hoping, ignoring the fact that Life would start soon. Life meant uncertainty for him. Life meant an internship at St. Mungo's for Peter, who had mistook the booth at Career Day for the refreshments table and found himself signing up for bedpan changing to get the attention of a witch who hadn't even looked twice at him. And finally, Life meant Auror training for Sirius and James. Funny how he thought of them like that. Sirius and James. SiriusandJames. An entity. And JamesandLily. He couldn't remember a time when James was just James. He figured he probably hadn't ever been. That's what made James so fantastic, his ability to bond with another person. Remus felt he probably hadn't been bonded with James on his own, but that together they all were. MoonyWormtailPadfootandProngs. It was squashed together in his brain.

But there was that other pairing, that other compound, that no one knew about. No one except the two involved. RemusandSirius. SiriusandRemus. MoonyandPadfoot. He'd tried every combination, they all sounded smooth, mellifluous, like they should have been played on the piano and not spoken in conversation. But then, that was probably just a load of shit, because they weren't spoken in conversation, not that way anyway. Not the way JamesandLily was.

And that was It, wasn't it? The It that had sent him to the backyard, pack of cigarettes clenched in his fist, wand tucked in the waist of his trousers. It seemed to him that this spot, leaning against the house, staring at the wooden fence, was the place he could think most clearly. He caught sight of a spot of brightness between the slats and thought briefly that the house the next street over was on fire. He shifted his head around and the play of the light shifted with it. It was just a streetlight, glowing the same jack-o-lantern orange as the end of his cigarette. Which, come to think of it, was probably the reason he could see his hand. He liked to think that that wasn't so, that the energy, the thrumming activity of the world around him, was what kept it lit up. Obviously this spot against the house drew out his most sentimental thoughts as well. But he knew that. And that was the real reason he was here. How else could he think of Sirius, but all sentimental and foolish and alone in the backyard? Because James and Peter didn't know. And sometimes he thought Sirius didn't either.

If things were the way they should be, he would be off to Auror training too, there would be no werewolf restrictions. If things were the way they should be, they'd still be at Hogwarts, worrying about who'd misplaced the Marauder's Map this time. If things were the way they should be, he would feel happy that he was with Sirius at all, publicly or not.

But things weren't the way they should be.

Sirius had never said that they couldn't, shouldn't, wouldn't tell anyone about the two of them, but he'd never said the opposite either. He was happy to spend their time gallivanting like children during the day and engaging in decidedly adult things during the night.

He was right earlier, this was all just a load of shit. He could march in there right now, to the living room where SiriusJamesandPeter were playing Exploding Snap, grab Sirius and snog him for all he was worth. Sirius wouldn't object…he didn't think. And then someone else would know. James would know. Pete would know. He could be Remus in SiriusandRemus. And it would all be out in the light of the house, if not in the light of the world. Or was the house his world? Blasted backyard thinking spot anyway.

For all the stumbling and falling of the relationship (because that's what it really was, he knew, despite his long-winded, ominous thinking about it, it was a relationship), it was something he was madly cheerful about most of the time. There were just…times, instances, moments, situations that sparked a desire to yell himself hoarse that he and Sirius were just that. HeandSirius.

Lily had come over this evening to visit with them. Well, ostensibly them; he doubted Lily's visits would be as frequent were James not living there too.

Those two didn't even have to do anything. They just had to be. Pete would say something only he would say and everyone would laugh and their eyes would catch and it was like the room was silent and they were the only ones there. Like they were ready to set about making their first child there on the hardwood floor or like they were reciting sonnets to one another in hushed, loving tones. Wasn't even possible, that. James would have a mouthful of beer and Lily was already replying to Pete, but Remus could hear them, feel them, nonetheless. He wanted that. He knew sonnets too, after all. But it was so much more guarded with he and Sirius. Or, rather, he was guarded. He was sure Sirius would have spouted dirty limericks to him at every pass if Remus would only have let on that he wanted to hear them.

But how to let on? That was the real trick.

He wasn't the best with talking. Well, not about emotions and all the other complicated things infinitely more important than the mating habits of the Grindylow, which he could go on for hours about.

It hadn't occurred to him then, with all this exhausting thinking, that the decision would be taken out of his hands.

"Moony, get your arse in here!"

That was Sirius.

He looked at the mess he'd made of the grass near where he was, slumped against the house. Cigarette butts littered an obscene amount of the ground and he pulled back the corner of his pack to realize he didn't have any left, he'd have been going in soon anyway.

"I meant it, mate! Now!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming…" He pulled the backdoor of the porch open, "You rang?"

Sirius threw him an exasperated look, "Oy, Moony! You have a cloud of smoke following you, how many of those did you have anyway?"

"Not enough. I could go back out there, if you're going to get all critical."

"No, no, don't do that. I wanted you back for a reason."

"Oh?"

Pete spoke up, "Sirius said you guys had a trick you were going to show us!"

"A trick?" What was he playing at?

"Yeah, a trick, we finished Exploding Snap and I actually won for once! Can you believe that? I never beat Siri--"

"Pete?"

"Oh, yeah, so we finished and James said he was bored and told Sirius to entertain him and Sirius said you and him had something to show us that would probably stop the boredom. So…show us!"

We do? That seemed like something he should have said out loud.

"We do?"

"Of course we do, Moony! That thing we've been working on for ages now!"

What had they been working on? He couldn't have been talking about…no…

"Let's have it then. I'm not getting any amusement out of watching Remus gape like a fish and Sirius fairly beam with glee."

"Don't get your knickers in a wad, Potter, I'm sure Lily wouldn't like that. Remus, come here."

There wasn't much to do but listen. He still wasn't sure what was going on and this seemed like the best way to find out. Standing next to Sirius, he found himself being turned around to face him.

"Ready?"

"What are you guys going to do? You don't even have your wands out!"

"Belt up, Wormtail!"

Sirius looked Remus in the eye and asked once more, "Ready?" But Remus wasn't even sure if that had been spoken aloud, he had simply felt it, and the next thing he knew he felt hands frame his face and saw Sirius moving in.

He was going to do it.

And then…he did.

Sirius' lips met his, coarse and slightly damp, and Remus heard sonnets, and he moved his lips to recite them and then his lips were just moving, moving against Sirius', catching his top one, his bottom one, his mouth opening, his tongue snaking out to lap at them, and Sirius' tongue was there then too, and they had moved into a mouth now, and their lips were pressed together, and there was the wet, grainy slide of deep kissing, and they were in a different mouth now, and he wasn't sure whose it was, but then, he wasn't sure earlier either and a hand had wound into his hair and clamped onto his hip and where were his hands? Oh, there they were, in hair and on hips too, moving, inching up under Sirius' shirt, just grazing skin, and OH, he loved it when he licked at the roof of his mouth like that and what was that noise? Cows? Moo? Moo…knee? And then louder, "Moony! Padfoot!"

Sirius pulled back and Remus chased after his mouth unwittingly, realizing at that moment that the noise was his name.

Peter was staring and James was staring and Sirius was staring.

And then James clapped. "Good show, mates!"

Peter squeaked. "So that was your trick then? You've learned to kiss blokes?"

Sirius apparently still had command over the power of speech, something Remus found himself lacking. "We haven't learned to kiss blokes. We've learned to kiss each other…And you mates will be seeing a lot of that trick now that we've finally shown it to you." He looked hesitantly at Remus, "If that's all right with you…?"

When in the chronicle of wasted time…

"Remus?"

Sirius was looking at him with eyes that were trembling with the effort of not going all wide and pleading and puppy dog like.

"I do…er, like that trick an awful lot." He looked awkwardly at James and Peter, "Would you two mind seeing it again? I mean, if you didn't hate it?"

"Of course we didn't hate it! That was brilliant! But why would you do it again?"

James shoved at Peter, "That trick wasn't for us, you pillock! That trick was for them. And no, we didn't hate it, we're quite happy that you decided to show us, aren't we, Pete?"

The click of the pieces falling into place in Peter's head was almost audible. "Yes…OH! Yes! We are happy, I mean, um, if you're happy…"

Remus looked at Sirius and Sirius looked at Remus.

"They're happy, Wormtail…let's let them practice at that a little more," and he was hauling Peter out of his seat and out of the room.

Remus could hear Peter as he entered the kitchen, "Would've thought? Remus and Sirius?" and James, "RemusandSirius, indeed."

Sirius reached out a hand to his jaw and drew Remus' eyes back to his own, grinning like he'd just figured out a secret. He leaned into kiss him again then, and in that almost never-ending second before their lips met, he murmured, "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

*

(Remus' thought is the beginning of Shakespeare's Sonnet #106, and Sirius quotes #18.)

*