Tea Leaves
Happy Pride month! Have some queer joy that simply would not leave my mind <3 Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!
“Re.”
Oh, it was warm. So warm.
“Remus?”
Remus was warm, too, from his rosy cheeks to his feet, twined with Sirius’ own beneath the sheets. The metal band around his ring finger was warm. The whole world was warm, like Hope’s blankets, like a fleece in the middle of winter, like a hearth.
“Re, honey.” He scooted impossibly closer, propping his chin on Remus’ shoulder as he rubbed wide circles over his belly beneath a worn-soft shirt. Wake up, wake up. “Loup. Mon vœu. Hey, hey—”
“Don’t wanna airpl—Jesus Christ—” Remus’ eye cracked open half a degree before he jolted hard enough that Sirius’ teeth clacked together rather uncomfortably. His head flopped back onto the pillow with a harsh breath; his eyes scrunched shut, one hand scrubbing down his face, before he blinked them open and squinted blearily back at Sirius. A small smile tipped his lip up. “Hey, you. ‘S goin’ on?”
Fireworks popped in Sirius’ stomach. He held Remus’ hand tighter, burying his grin in the strong curve of his arm. “We got married.”
Remus’ smile grew. “Mhmm.”
“Married,” Sirius repeated. Remus smelled so good, even mostly asleep. A little sweaty from the June heat, still clean from their earlier shower. Soft and rumpled and his. He tucked his knees in the hollow of Remus’ own—heat curled in his stomach at the contented hum that answered. Mon mari.
“Yeah,” Remus said quietly. His hand was a little clumsy when he wrangled it out of their blanket nest, but devastating in its gentleness when he stroked the side of Sirius’ face. Once, then again, like he really wanted to keep touching him. Sirius wasn’t even sure Remus could see him properly in this light. But he touched all the same.
He pulled their joined hands up to his mouth, dragging Remus over as his drowsiness gave way to laughter and a helpful little shimmy that rolled him right into Sirius’ chest. His knuckles were knobbly against Sirius’ lips. He knew all the scars that decorated them, now, in the darkness and by touch alone. Some from hockey, many from Remus’ endless motion. Kind fingers on healing hands. Only ever healing hands.
His hands.
“Mine.” If he could press the words into Remus’ bones, so the lucky scientist that dug them up in a thousand years would know they belonged to each other, he would. He could make this man so happy. He would, he would, he would. He would spend eternity proving it.
Remus exhaled softly. His smile stamped Sirius’ jaw, stubble scratching lightly at his skin. He fucking loved Remus’ stubble. “Yours,” came the whispered answer, rough from sleep.
It rushed over Sirius. It pulled him under and launched him high. The sleep-roughness was his and his alone. Nobody else would ever get the honor of having Remus like this, when he was sweet and cozy and safer here than anywhere in the world. He turned to kiss the inside of a slender wrist, then leaned in for a brush of lips that became a shared laugh into each others’ mouths. Married. It hardly felt real.
“Come here,” Remus whispered, hardly audible. His hand cupped the nape of Sirius’ neck and pulled him closer, close enough to slot their noses side-to-side and kiss him sweetly. He could taste the honeysuckle of Remus’ silent laugh. “Sorry. Morning breath.”
“Non, non.” His lower back was the perfect arch against Sirius’ palm. “You always taste good.”
Remus made a quiet scoffing noise, though Sirius felt his face heat when he nuzzled closer and dragged a few sloppy kisses over his cheek and jaw. God, he was so tired. They had hardly been asleep for two hours—he supposed it wasn’t very nice to wake Remus, in hindsight, but his sleepy nudges to any exposed bit of Sirius’ skin were well worth a brief interlude. He let the weight of his head fall back into Remus’ steady hand and kept him close. Absurdly, he thought back to the song playing in Sid’s as they tangled their ankles under the table and shared slices of pizza like high schoolers on a first date rather than newlyweds. All I ever wanted, all I ever needed, is here in my arms.
His next breath came out slower than the others. He held Remus tight enough to feel his heart beating on both sides. This touch—this everything—this sense of utter rightness. He was such a fool for ever pretending he could let this go.
How could I have thought I could go without this? he had whispered across this very same pillow, only 18 months ago. Remus had been haloed by pleasure and satisfaction then. Here, in the night, shrouded in the sheets they bought together, he was so much brighter.
How could I have thought I could go without this? He had tried, though. Sirius breathed deep, and felt a steady hum answer him. He had tried to imagine other futures for himself. Told himself it wouldn’t be so bad: a wife who was nice and patient with his schedule, kids he’d do his best to raise in the midst of hockey, a house they could decorate however the rest of them saw fit. It would be basic, but not…bad. Not anything to be ashamed of. He could make it work. He could love his kids and kiss his wife and be a good enough husband.
Remus’ mumble was lost in his collarbone.
“Quoi?”
A moment of readjustment. One amber eye peeked out at him, bemused and tired. Remus’ hand flattened over the small of his back. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He would never let Remus settle for ‘good enough’. For decent. For dry kisses on the cheek or the forehead, or a cold line down the center of the bed. It was unimaginable. He would be a fool, a terrible fool, to let Remus Lupin down like that. His wedding ring would not be reserved for dinner guests, and his body—his heart—would always be safe.
Ne, he thought as he kissed Remus’ broad cheekbone. There would be no future like that. Not anymore. Not ever again. Remus was his and his and his until the sun sank under the waves, and he would make it so they’d be together in the darkness, too.
His future was not a sterile, unfamiliar house, or a kind wife, or children he barely saw between games. He did not have to settle for that.
Sirius breathed him in. Pushed their faces together. “Hey.”
“Mhmm.”
The words stuck for a second before slipping free. “Thank you for letting me reach.”
Remus’ brow knit. “For what?”
It’s all you. Always has been, always will be. He would reach for a better future for himself. He deserved joy that overwhelmed exhaustion. “All the times people told me I wasn’t good enough.” For a home, for a family. He pulled the hem of Remus’ sleep shirt. “You made me forget.”
Remus made a happy sound somewhere in his chest. “Workin’ on it.”
“Still?” Sirius laughed.
“Got time.”
That coy smile. Lopsided, mischievous, unbearably handsome. Those eyes, so bright, so clever. Remus’ thigh weighed his hip down, and a wandering hand skimmed the faint ridges of his bones. They had time, now—not for waiting, but for living. This could be his future. All the time in the world.
