poly!wolfstar x asexual!gn!reader
summary: After the early stages of relationship bliss, familiar insecurities start to eat at you…
det./cw.: description of feeling inadequate, discussions of asexuality, eatablished relationship, hurt/comfort, angst but not really angst yk? they love you very much, no use of y/n
A/N: This is the first thing I’ve ever written tbh (might delete it again), it’s very very self indulgent because I’ve been feeling a little off these past days and was craving reassurance in my sexuality after devouring most of the ace!reader content on here. Anywho, English is not my first language and I proof read this once maybe, so bear with me.
My participation in this fandom does not mean I support or agree with JKR, her opinions, or her values. I don’t.
Things with Sirius and Remus felt easy. After all, they say the honeymoon phase of relationships is light and bright. It was almost surreal, having long before decided that love was not in the picture for you, that the lack of sexual desire predestined you for a life of loneliness. But they proved you wrong, persisted, and won you over slowly.
But, after the rosy haze of early love clears a little, insecurities pave their way into heart and head. Joining a relationship after they established a rhythm was difficult, Sirius and Remus had been together for a while before falling in love with you. Not questioning your place in their hearts, especially when you question yourself daily as is, proved itself to be herculean. But maybe it’s your tendency to overthink pulling a prank on you. Maybe you just imagine them gravitating to one another in rooms, or laughing about jokes that have long been established between them, excluding you without the intention of doing so.
Sometimes, then, it feels like you have not quite surpassed the status of friends in more than the word, stuck in a limbo between platonic and truly romantic.
A spectator to their love rather than a participant in your own relationship.
These thoughts creep in during the small moments. When you watch them dance at a party like they can anticipate the other’s next movement, when they’re telling stories about their school days, when Sirius automatically orders Remus’s food, knowing his preference, and then turns to you to ask what you would like to have.
Or when they’re both late to dates, like now.
You prepared everything for a cozy night in: dinner, tea, a movie, a soft record in the background. They arrived almost an hour late with guilty apologies and soft kisses to your head. They ‘got caught up’ as Remus so delicately puts it, the blooming hickey on Sirius’s neck and the slight glow to them both telling you enough.
It’s not that you feel bad about them having sex, you would never dare to. Quite the contrary; You basked in the knowledge that while they loved and cared for you, they still had one another to love and care for, and to satiate those desires that you do not need to satiate yourself. That you cannot concentrate on the movie or Remus’s warm hand on your thigh lies solely with feeling less than, because they arrived late due to being caught up in one another. The movie’s picture blurs when your eyes lose focus, mind running in circles around the usual thoughts that plague you, that plagued you long before they entered your life in a contradicting storm of affection and mindfulness. If you were normal, you could have been there. Participated. Known what it feels like to be loved like that and not feel like they were afraid to touch you.
Remus notices the exact moment you zone out; he always does. His fingers squeeze your thigh gently. “Dove?” When you don’t reply, he repeats the affection, Sirius looking over as well now. You hum and look at him, shaking out of your spiral for a moment to give him your undivided attention.
“You okay? Seemed like we lost you there for a moment.”
“Oh, yes, sorry.” He smiles gently, “penny for your thoughts?” You return the smile, “not important.”
Now Sirius chimes in, “always important if it’s occupying your mind like that, lovely.”
With how they both look at you now, nothing but adoration reflected in their gaze, you feel your sinuses burn and tears push against your lash-line. “Sorry,” you mutter quickly and press your palms into your eyes, voice giving out halfway through the word. Suddenly it feels like you’re alone on a stage, spotlight bright and insistent on you sharing something with the audience that consists of your boyfriends. There’s a moment of silence before the couch dips on your other side as well, now sandwiched between both men.
“Take your time, focus on your breath,” Remus instructs gently, the way his fingers flex slightly on your thigh before retreating to his own to not crowd you the only indication of any inner distress he feels. Sirius is less subtle; you can feel him shift nervously beside you. “What’s wrong, baby?”
You just shake your head, not trusting your voice yet. It’s a curse, really, how it refuses to cooperate in moments when everybody expects you to articulate yourself. They give you the time you need, Sirius’s hand interlacing with one of yours in reassurance, lightly at first should you feel like you need to pull away, then more firmly when you don’t. Taking a moment to sort your thoughts, you grapple for a way to voice your feelings sensibly. “Are you two sure you want to be with me?” By the silence that follows, you’re sure to have caught them off guard. “Of course we are, dove. Why would you think we wouldn’t want to be with you?” You take a breath, using your free hand to wipe beneath your eyes. “Sometimes I feel like I’m just… not offering enough. Logically, I know you love me, you have told me as much, but I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.”
“You don’t need to do anything in particular to deserve our love,” Sirius’s thumb strokes over you’re the back of your hand when he says that, his tone softer than you expected. Your heart squeezes.
“Every moment you two share feels sacred, like it’s an honour to witness it. And then I ask myself how I deserve to be part of that, how will I ever know you two the way you know one another. I can’t participate in the most intimate moments. I can’t have sex. And just maybe… I’m too broken to be with.” You reply, voice barely above a whisper. No turning back now, you’ve laid out your most crucial insecurity before them to do with whatever they please to. To your surprise Sirius looks baffled, appalled almost, that you would talk about yourself like that. Remus’s face tightens minutely, but understanding fills his eyes.
“Knowing a person takes time. We don’t expect you to achieve that immediately, dove. That is the fun of a relationship – learning each other’s uniqueness. Being asexual does not mean you’re less worthy of getting to know and love us or be loved and known. It just means that we have to find ways to make you feel as appreciated and desired without sex. We should have properly asked what affection you feel comfortable with and learned your boundaries. I’m sorry if we made you feel like you’re not enough, and I’m sure being late today hasn’t helped much.” You nod, new tears filling your eyes. “I should have communicated that earlier.”
“It’s my fault, really,” Sirius chimes in in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “I hold back so much when you’re close, I never know what to do with the urge to squeeze you that you give me, so poor Remus had to compensate. Really ought to know what I’m allowed to do with you, lovely. I’ll go mad.” You laugh a little, squeezing his hand. “How about we start with cuddling and the occasional kiss?”
They don’t seem to need to be told twice. The movie is rewound and you find yourself in a tangle of limbs and warmth soon after. For the first time in a while, your brain is quiet. You’re not broken; all you needed was somebody willing to love you the way you didn’t know you needed to be loved and accept the ways you don’t want to be loved.
