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“Is that how you think of yourself?” Sirius whispers to him, pained.
“No,” Remus whispers back, frowning. “That’s just the truth."
“What can I do for you to see the other truth?”
“It’s not your job to-”
Sirius puts a hand on Remus' face.
Thumb stroking his jaw. He knows those hands. He knows them well. But on the heated skin of Remus' face, they're suddenly new, because they've never been there. In the absolution of his touch, he's momentarily whole. He feels, through Sirius’ palm, tremors.
“What if..?” His eyes are dilated, black eating away at gray. “What if I want it to be?”
War hero Remus Lupin has always categorized his unrequited love for Sirius Black, his roommate of ten years, as background noise. Ubiquitous, but ultimately, ignorable. But during a week-long June heatwave in which lines are blurred, thresholds are crossed, and Lily and James’ housewarming looms ever closer, Remus realizes he’s wrong. What he feels isn’t white noise.
It’s hell.
And to make matters worse, their housewarming present is so terrible that if his attraction to Sirius doesn’t kill him, then the star-patterned curtains definitely will.
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