”the quiet.”
polywolfstar x reader
early twenties au
fluff mostly slight NSFW if you squint
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The apartment was quiet in that late-night way it only ever got when the fire had burned low and the portraits had stopped gossiping for the evening.
You were half curled into the corner of the sofa, your knees tucked under you, an old jumper stolen from remus hanging off one shoulder because it’s huge on you, the wool was soft from years of washing.
on-top of you sirius was sprawled across your lap like her never heard of personal space. His head was in your lap, one arm dangling off the cushion, looking completely at peace for once. Every so often, he’d tilt his face up just to glance at you like he was making sure you were still there.
Remus sat beside you, closer than he pretended to be. He was reading, though the book had been abandoned half-open in his hands for the last ten minutes. His attention kept drifting—always back to you, or Sirius, or the way the firelight made everything feel softer than it had any right to.
“You’re both ridiculous,” you murmured, though your fingers were absentmindedly combing through Sirius’s hair anyway.
“That’s why you love us,” Sirius said immediately, eyes closing in contentment.
Remus let out a quiet breath that might’ve been a laugh. “I don’t think that’s what she said.”
“I implied it,” Sirius corrected, turning his head just enough to press a lazy kiss against your wrist.
That small gesture made something in your chest loosen.
Remus finally set his book aside.
“You’re cold,” he said, like it was a fact he’d only just decided to care about.
“I’m fine,” you replied automatically.
He gave you a look—calm, steady, annoyingly perceptive.
Then, without asking, he shifted closer and tugged your legs across his lap. His hands were warm as they settled there, grounding you in a way that made your protest die before it even formed.
Sirius peeked up again. “You’re stealing her.”
“I’m improving circulation,” Remus said dryly.
You snorted, and Sirius reached up to tap your cheek lightly. “I could improve your circulation too, you know.”
“Oh?” you said, raising a brow.
He grinned—sharp and fond at the same time—and sat up just enough to lean in.
The kiss was intense. hard. More like he was trying to sallow you rather than anything else. his hand around your neck his thumb stroking your jaw. You felt him linger there for a second longer than necessary, like he never quite got tired of proving he could anything he wanted whenever he wanted.
When he pulled back, Remus was watching you both with that soft, unreadable expression he got when he was trying not to look too affected.
“What?” Sirius asked innocently.
Remus shook his head slightly. “Nothing.”
But then he leaned in anyway.
His kiss was different—gentler, quieter. Like he didn’t need to prove anything at all. One of his hands came up to rest lightly against your jaw, thumb brushing there for a moment like he was memorizing the shape of you.
When he pulled back, Sirius made a sound of protest.
“That’s not fair,” Sirius said. “He does the serious one.”
Remus huffed. “The ‘serious one’?”
“You know what I mean.”
You laughed softly, the sound disappearing into the warmth of the room.
Sirius shifted again, this time tugging you a little closer so you were sandwiched between them properly. Remus adjusted without complaint, letting you lean into his side while Sirius draped an arm over both of you like he’d decided this was where you belonged.
For a while, nobody spoke.
Just the fire crackling. The occasional turn of a page. The steady rhythm of breathing that matched, slowly, without trying.
Sirius broke the silence first.
“Stay like this,” he said quietly.
Remus didn’t look up this time. “We are staying like this.”
“I mean forever.”
You felt Remus’s hand tighten just slightly around yours at that, subtle but real.
“No promises,” Remus said softly.
Sirius rolled his eyes, but there was no bite to it. “You’re hopeless.”
“And you’re dramatic,” you murmured.
He grinned again, then leaned his head back against the sofa, eyes closing.
“Still staying,” he said.
And somehow, in the warm, tangled quiet of the common room, with Remus’s hand steady in yours and Sirius pressed close like he belonged there, it didn’t feel like a question at all.
