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Squandered Chances

Summary:

“Come on, Pads. Don’t leave me hanging here.” Remus murmured against his lips, the words light and teasing, but there was a slight tremor in them, and it made Sirius’s chest ache to hear it. It was painfully clear Remus was desperate. Desperate to discourage Tonks from her ceaseless advances toward him in any way he could – even if it meant going as far as kissing Sirius to do so.

Sirius knows Remus can never love him back, he’d squandered his chance when he’d accused him of being the spy. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to watch him losing the love of his life to his own bloody cousin.

The kiss is everything Sirius has ever wanted, and he’s determined to enjoy it, even if Remus is only kissing him to get Tonks off his back.

Or: Sirius lives! Remus kisses him after Tonks’s confession, and he’s convinced it’s only to get her off his back.

Notes:

Sirius lives! He didn't die in the Department of Mysteries and made it to The Battle of the Astronomy Tower at the end of Half Blood Prince.

English is not my first language!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The atmosphere in the hospital wing was heavy, almost suffocating. Everyone was quiet, processing all that had happened that night. Most of the others were gathered around Bill Weasley’s bedside, their voices hushed, their faces drawn with concern and fear. The young man had been savagely attacked by Greyback, and Sirius’s heart clenched with sympathy. Lycanthropy, regardless of the severity of the symptoms, carried a stigma that would follow him for the rest of his life.  

Harry was somewhere amongst them, undoubtedly comforting his friend, Ron.  

Sirius sat on his own bed, propped up against the pillows, despite Poppy’s healing his ribs still ached. Remus hovered at his side, quietly adjusting the pillows behind his back. He always needed to keep busy when he was stressed or anxious. It was subtle, but to Sirius it was clear as day, the way Remus was trying so hard to appear calm in that moment. 

It was one of the few small things that had stayed the same in the twelve years they’d been apart. So much had changed during Sirius’s incarceration: new people had entered the public eye, laws had been altered or added, and new spells and potions had been invented. And he found he barely recognised the wizarding world he’d once known.  

While he had been gone, time had swept on carelessly, leaving Sirius behind it its wake. But Remus... Remus had stayed the same. 

In a world ever changing, Remus remained his one constant.  

Whenever everything became too much, when Sirius felt like he was barely keeping his head above water, he could always count on Remus to do something familiar that reminded him that not everything had changed.  

It was only little things, but they meant the world to Sirius.  

The way he scrunched his nose when annoyed, how he absentmindedly traced the scars on his forearm when lost in thought, or, as was the case now, the way he fussed with Sirius’s pillows in an attempt to calm his nerves. 

As Remus fluffed his pillows for what felt like hundredth time, Sirius dared to steal a glance at him. His friend appeared as he always did, calm and unaffected, his usual quiet control in place – the only sign he was feeling anything but, was the tightness around his beautiful amber eyes and the tension in his jaw.  

Merlin, was Sirius gone on this man. If it had been anyone else fussing over him like this, he’d have snapped at them a long time ago, irritated by their unspoken pity. But not Remus. Never Remus, with his quiet support and his endless kindness.  

Sirius knew he’d worried his friend. During the fight with the Death Eaters one of them had actually managed to land a solid hit. The sickly yellow curse had sent Sirius crashing into a wall, nearly eight feet up. He remembered the nauseating pain that had course through him when he’d hit the floor, Remus’s screaming as the rush of darkness had taken him under.  

He’d come to in the Hospital Wing, his head pounding and ribs aching, and the devastating news that while they’d managed to drive the Death Eaters from the school, Dumbledore was dead, and Bill Weasley had suffered a brutal attack at the hands of Fenrir Greyback. 

Somehow, in the short time he’d been gone, the world had once again shifted irreparably. And it felt like everything was slipping away from him again, lost in the tide of war. 

He stole another glance at Remus, his chest aching with longing. He’d thought, hoped – perhaps foolishly – that he’d gotten over his unrequited feelings for his friend. That the suspicion, mistrust, and constant weight of the war might have dulled them.  

Surely the final blow, the thing shat should have meant the death of his silly, unrequited crush, were the twelve long years in Azkaban that had separated them. 

But no. One look at Remus when he’d entered the Shrieking Shack, wand drawn and aimed straight at Sirius’s heart, and all of it had come rushing back in an instant. The sight of him – his sandy-brown curls, now greying, falling around his face, those fierce amber eyes fixed on Sirius – it was as if nothing had changed, it was all still there, burning inside him, even after all that time. 

Sirius’s heart clenched as Remus looked down at him, his gaze softening as their eyes met for a fleeting moment. The faintest of smiles tugged at his lips, making the lines around his eyes deepen slightly, before they both quickly looked away, the moment gone as quickly as it had come. 

Merlin’s bollocks, Sirius thought bitterly. He was too old for this . Too old to be pining like a lovesick teenager, yearning for someone he could never have.  

He knew he was too late, that he’d squandered his chance when he’d accused Remus of being the spy during the war, when he’d frozen him out for months over it.  

That damn rat, whispering in his ear, feeding his fears, and Sirius had been too blind, too impulsive to see it. But that didn’t make the regret any less crushing. He could never undo the harm he’d done, take back the words that had burned bridges between them. He never should have doubted Remus in the first place.  

Sirius knew he should stop torturing himself, let go of his unrequited feelings and move on. But he couldn’t bring himself to. Because, in some of his darkest days, the only point of light, the only thing that kept him going, was the thought of seeing Remus again.  

And even though it was a constant, aching pain, to know that he would never love Sirius back. The warmth that filled him whenever he was near, the beating of his heart every time their eyes met, was something he couldn’t imagine living without.  

The thought of letting go of that... it terrified him. It wasn’t just a matter of love. It was survival . Remus was the thread that held him together, kept him from unravelling completely, and he couldn’t live without it. 

 

“You see!” the voice was loud and filled with frustration, it cut through the silence in the hospital wing like a whip, shaking him from his spiral. Sirius’s head shot up, he looked past his friend to see Tonks glaring daggers at... Remus , of all people.  

“She still wants to be with him, even though he’s been bitten! She doesn’t care!” Sirius blinked, disoriented for a moment, having been too distracted by his spiralling thoughts to pay any attention to the others in the hospital wing. Remus, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what was going on. 

“It’s different,” Remus said, his voice tight. He was tense in a way Sirius had rarely seen him. “Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely- ”  

Sirius blinked, utterly bewildered. What in Merlin’s name were they talking about? His gaze darted between his cousin and Remus, struggling to piece the conversation together. He caught Harry’s eye from across the room, where his godson was standing with the Weasleys, but he looked as confused as Sirius felt.  

“But I don’t care either, I don’t care!” Tonks exclaimed, her voice rising. In two large strides, she was beside his bed, she seized Remus by the front of his already threadbare robes and shook him vehemently. “I’ve told you a million times!”  

All of a sudden Sirius felt dizzy with realisation. Of course , her patronus – so similar to his own – a wolf . Her mouse-coloured hair, her listlessness the past couple of months. She’s in love with his Remus. No. Not his , never his. He reprimanded himself inwardly. 

Sirius’s eyes fixed on Tonks’s face. And even in her obvious frustration, she was strikingly pretty, in the way Sirius used to be, before Azkaban had stripped him of everything. That prison had taken it all – his youth, his good looks, who he was .  

Now, all that remained was a shadow of his former self. One who was more often than not in a foul mood and depended on drink maybe a little too much.  

And Remus... Remus deserved someone like Tonks. Someone whole , someone who life hadn't broken down yet. Someone who could lift him up instead of dragging him down like Sirius knew he often did.  

He felt heavy with the realisation that he might have to watch Remus slip away. That he would lose the love of his life to his own bloody cousin .  

“And I’ve told you a million times,” Remus’s voice was strained, and he stared resolutely at the floor, as if he couldn’t bear to meet her gaze. “That I am too old for you...too poor...too dangerous...”  

Sirius’s heart clenched painfully at hearing his love say those words, because none of that mattered. It never had. 

“I’ve said all along you’re taking a ridiculous line on this Remus.” Mrs. Weasley chimed in, her voice cutting through the tension. 

“I am not being ridiculous.” Remus replied steadily, though there was a notable edge to his words, something deep and pained. “Tonks deserves somebody young and whole.” Sirius watched as Remus pried her fingers from his robes with a tenderness that belied the frustration in his tone. 

“But she wants you ,” Mr. Weasley said, with a small, sad smile. “And after all Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so.” He gestured sadly towards his son, lying unconscious in his hospital bed. 

“I am aware of that.” Remus said curtly, his gaze briefly flicked down at Sirius before quickly looking away again. And the bitterness, the self-loathing surged up, overwhelming him. Right . Because the last thing Sirius was, was young and whole.  

Remus seemed determined to avoid looking anyone in the eye, though a tick in his jaw betrayed his fraying patience. The man had an abundance of it – Sirius knew from experience – but even Remus had his limits. And he’d learned a long time ago it was best not to be around when that patience ran out. 

“But this is not the time to discuss it.” Remus continued, his tone firm, as he gently pushed Tonks’s hands toward her, away from him. “Dumbledore is dead-”  

“Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think there was a little more love in the world.” Professor McGonagall cut in curtly from the other side of the ward.  

And that, another person butting into his affairs, seemed to be the final straw for Remus’s patience. “Fine!” He threw up his hands, a gesture full of frustration. “Let’s give the dead man what he wants then, shall we ?!” He snapped, his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring in fury. In that moment, he looked every bit the image of a vengeful god, and Sirius would have gladly worshipped at his altar for the rest of his life. Because Merlin’s tits, was Remus losing control attractive.  

But Sirius had only a second to savour it, before Remus rounded on him , fury still burning in his eyes. Sirius froze, his eyes widening, he had only a moment to wonder what he’d done wrong. Before, in an instant, everything shifted. 

Remus’s large, warm hands cupped his face, and his heart skipped a beat as that gorgeous, freckled face drew closer and closer. Sirius’s breath hitched as long lashes, and greying curls filled his vision while soft lips firmly pressed against his own. 

Sirius’s heart just about stopped in his chest, he couldn’t breathe, his arms unresponsive at his sides. His mind completely blank as warm lips moved against his own in a dizzying rhythm.  

And for a brief moment everything else ceased to matter, there was no war, no danger, no Tonks. There was only Remus, and his lips against Sirius’s.  

Then, his heart started racing as his mind kicked back into gear. Was Remus only doing this to put off Tonks? Do I even care? Sirius wanted this, more than anything. Had wanted it for so long.  

He had imagined this moment a thousand times – fantasised and dreamed about it since the moment Remus had stepped onto the train in fifth year. Over that summer, he had gained a few inches and had lost his baby fat. The sight of him had taken Sirius’s breath away. 

He’d be damned if he didn’t take this opportunity. 

But before he could start kissing back, before he could actually get his stupid, uncooperative limbs to move at all. Remus began to pull away, just an inch, just enough to make Sirius’s heart stutter in his chest.  

No. No , he’d frozen up – he'd ruined it. He’d blown this once in a lifetime chance like an idiot.  

“Come on, Pads. Don’t leave me hanging here.” Remus murmured against his lips, the words light and teasing, but there was a slight tremor in them, and it made Sirius’s chest ache to hear it. It was painfully clear Remus was desperate . Desperate to discourage Tonks from her ceaseless advances toward him in any way he could – even if it meant going as far as kissing Sirius to do so.  

Remus was trying to protect himself, was reaching out toward Sirius, a silent plea for help toward a friend. And Sirius was terrible – selfish, greedy even. But so, so hungry for more.  

His friend was asking for his help, and all Sirius could think about was getting his mouth on him again, pulling him back into something deeper, something more. 

He wasn’t proud of it, but he wasn’t going to lie to himself either. Sirius had always been a selfish creature – his mother had told him plenty of times. And he had no intention of changing that when presented with the golden opportunity to finally get a taste of something he’d always thought would be forever out of reach. 

With one, trembling hand, he reached for Remus, his fingers curling around his bicep – he almost smiled when he felt the distinct texture of one of Remus’s signature knitted jumpers beneath his robes.  

His other hand, against his better judgement, lifted higher, the movement made his previously contused ribs smart painfully, but he ignored it. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to let something so trivial stop him, no chance.  

He gripped the back of Remus’s neck, his heart hammered in his chest as their noses brushed, breaths intermingling for a heavenly moment of anticipation before he pulled Remus in, their lips slotting together perfectly. 

Sirius threw himself into it, determined to make this the best kiss Remus had ever had – would ever have. Because if he was going to have to think about this for the rest of his life, he was damn well going to make sure Remus did, too. That when he eventually got his head out of his arse and broke Sirius’s heart by settling down with Tonks or some other bird. That years from now, he’d wake up in the middle of the night with the taste of Sirius still lingering on his lips.  

He moved his hand from the back of Remus’s neck up into his hair, tangling his fingers into those gorgeous curls as he ran his tongue over Remus’s bottom lip, begging for entrance. For a moment, Remus tensed up, and Sirius was sure he’d gone too far, that he was about to be shoved off.  

This would surely be the death of their friendship, but as previously stated, he’d never been one for restraint when it came to what he wanted. And it wasn’t just that he wanted Remus, he craved him – like a man dying of thirst did his next drink, or a junkie his next hit. More often than not, wanting him was all Sirius could think about.  

And Sirius knew, that as long as Remus let him, he would take and take and take until there was nothing left that Remus was willing to give. He should stop this, pull away, end it all now. He was using his friend for his own selfish, twisted purposes and it was wrong .  

But before he could, Remus let out a surprised little moan and Sirius felt all sense fly out the window as Remus slid one of his hands further into his hair and gripped the strands tight as he opened his lips a little wider, granting Sirius entrance to paradise.  

Sirius licked into Remus’s mouth and if he’d been standing, he would have gone weak in the knees. He tasted of earl grey, honey and a hint of chocolate, and it was all so distinctly Remus it made his chest ache with want. For a blissful moment Remus was all Sirius could hear, feel and taste.  

Until someone cleared their throat, - loud and deliberate - and reality came crashing down around him. Sirius suddenly remembered why Remus was kissing him, remembered Tonks standing not two feet away, and the probably horrified audience they had to their little display. Which included Harry.  

Oh Merlin, Harry . The thought struck Sirius like a slap to the face, and his chest tightened painfully. Harry, his godson, who’d been raised by those awful, bigoted Muggles, who didn’t know that his godfather was into blokes (specifically Remus, actually, he hadn’t particularly enjoyed kissing any of the other guys at school). 

Sirius pulled away abruptly, breathing heavily, he gazed up at the angel still leaning over him, a vision bathed in the torch light, the warm light casting Remus in a heavenly glow. Sirius knew he should say something, address their audience, but all he could do was stare as his mind raced. 

He couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t bear the thought of what Harry would think of him now. And as for Remus, he was probably horrified. Disgusted, even. He had only kissed Sirius to get Tonks off his back, hadn’t he? Of course he had. Remus didn’t want this, not when he was already trying to fend off Tonks’s advances. 

Remus’s eyes were still closed, mouth slightly open, his plush lips slick with spit. Sirius’s brain nearly short-circuited once more as he watched Remus’s tongue run over them, almost absentmindedly. His long lashes fluttered open, revealing gorgeous, amber eyes, which looked right through him, fixed on some distant thought, a faint frown between his brows.  

And in that moment Sirius’s insides froze. He knew that look, could almost hear the cogs turning in that brilliant head. Remus blinked rapidly, as if waking from a dream, before sucking in a sharp, shocked breath. His eyes briefly focussed on Sirius, scrutinising him for a moment. And Sirius was sure. Remus knew. 

Their faces were still so, so close. Their panting breaths mingled before Remus broke the moment and straightened up with a light groan, a hand rubbing at his lower back to soothe the ache.  

Sirius closed his eyes and swallowed thickly before looking down at the brown blanket covering him, unable to make himself watch the disgust in his friend’s eyes.  

He’d hoped, rather foolishly, this would be it – just one kiss to get everyone off Remus’s back, and the two of them could return to being nothing more than friends.  

But of course, Sirius would be unable to hide his pathetic feelings. He didn’t know why he ever thought he could pretend that he didn’t long for Remus with every fibre of his being. 

This was it, then. Remus would never look at him the same way again now that he saw Sirius for the selfish fool he was. He was surely disgusted with Sirius now that he knew the kiss had meant more to him, had been more than just helping Remus get Tonks and Molly off his back.  

Sirius would’ve wallowed in his self-pity longer if a heavy hand hadn’t settled on his shoulder. He blinked in surprise as he was pulled into Remus’s side, the firm grip on his shoulder keeping him there.  

Confusion flickered through him, as he craned his neck to look up at Remus, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. The man’s expression was unreadable, but something flickered in his amber eyes that made Sirius’s breath catch. The faintest spark of hope bloomed in his chest. Maybe their friendship could survive this.  

Then, Sirius once again remembered their audience, and his eyes darted across the room, anxiety mounting as he searched for Harry. Would he mind? Would he be disgusted, or...? 

His eyes found Ron first, who was completely red and resolutely staring up at the ceiling, and Hermione, who looked absurdly smug, of all things. And beyond his wildest expectations, there, in between his friends, was his godson.  

Grinning. Grinning

Merlin, the boy looked so happy, so genuinely pleased, you’d think he’d been the one publicly snogged by the love of his life. But it settled something in Sirius’s chest. They would be fine. More than fine.   

Remus took a deep breath, taking a moment to steady himself before his mask of calm was back in place, as if it had never slipped at all. And if it weren’t for his mussed curls, swollen lips, or the firm hand still holding Sirius firmly against his side, Sirius might have thought he’d dreamed the last three minutes up. 

“Right.” Remus’s voice sliced through the moment, stern and controlled. Slipping effortlessly into what the teens had dubbed his ‘teacher voice’. 

“I hope we’ve all learned not to make assumptions , and to keep our noses out of other people’s business.” He shot a pointed look at a flabbergasted Molly Weasley, who was standing next to the Veela girl, completely red-faced, her mouth hanging open unbecommingly. 

Sirius had to do his best to hide his smirk. Serves her right for trying to couple his Moony with his own bleedin’ cousin. 

“I apologise Tonks,” Remus continued. “I’ve tried to dissuade you with flimsy excuses because...” He swallowed thickly. “The truth is...” Remus’s gaze flicked down to Sirius with a look of such tender adoration that Sirius’s chest hurt with the way it made his heart clench painfully.  “I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with my best friend,”  

His voice was soft, like it was a confession meant just for Sirius, and not an apology to Tonks. Sirius’s mind scrambled for a moment, trying to grasp the weight of what Remus had just said. He was in love. With him .  

Tonks opened her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise, but she said nothing. Instead, she took a step back, nodding, as if accepting the honesty that Remus had finally given her. 

Sirius’s breath hitched as he stared up at Remus, wide-eyed and stunned. He searched Remus’s face, for any trace of a lie, any hint that this was all just a continuation of the charade to keep Tonks from getting hurt.  

But he found none.  

All he could see in his eyes was plain, unfiltered adoration. Sirius’s chest tightened and before he could stop it, he felt his eyes well up. He quickly buried his face in Remus’s robes to hide the tears threatening to spill.  

“Since when?” Sirius croaked, voice hoarse with emotion.  

Remus smiled down at him, his eyes painfully soft as his thumb caressed Sirius’s shoulder soothingly. “I don’t know really. I suppose I truly realised at Harry’s first birthday, seeing how good you were with him.”  

They hadn’t spent that much time together that year, despite sharing an apartment in London since they’d left school. In the beginning it had been a special kind of torture to have to watch Remus walk around practically nude all the time in their shared space. But once the war had been in full swing the both of them had barely been home, always busy with one thing or another for the Order.  

That, and Sirius’s suspicion of Remus, fuelled by Wormtail’s whispers, had him keeping his friend – and his feelings – at an arm's length.  

And yet, in the middle of that mess, despite how horribly Sirius had acted, Remus had somehow realised he was in love with him.  

“I win.” Sirius said, voice almost teasing as he sent up a wry grin, though his heart felt like it was about to burst. 

Remus blinked down at him, before swallowing thickly, a small crease between his brows. “How long?” He asked, voice thick. 

“Fifth year.” Sirius said, without hesitation. “After that first full moon we spent with you.” 

He remembered it so clearly, Remus hadn’t been hurt that night, their presence entertaining the wolf enough that he didn’t turn his claws on himself. But that didn’t take away the agony of the transformation. 

Before, he’d only ever seen Remus when he’d already been patched up by Madam Pomfrey and in the face of all those bandages he hadn’t even considered what the transformation itself was like.  

He could still hear Remus’s screams, the sound of bones snapping and shifting to fit a much larger creature. It had been horrifying. And when the sun had come back up, right in the aftermath of the transformation, Remus had been so still, so silent and small, as he lay there unmoving on the dirty floor of the Shrieking Shack.  

Seeing him like that, the way his heart ached at Remus being in pain, Sirius had realised for the first time just how deeply his feelings truly ran. It couldn’t have just been worry for a dear friend that left him so terrified he could barely move as James had rushed forward to help their friend. It had to have been more than that. It had to be love. 

“Oh, we’ve wasted so much time.” Remus murmured, he looked almost devastated at the years that had passed them by. 

Sirius shook his head and took Remus’s hand, moving it from his shoulder to his cheek and turned his head to gently press his lips to Remus's palm. “Plenty of time ahead of us, Moony.” He murmured.  

And in that moment, in the middle of another war, on the night of Dumbledore’s murder, Sirius had never had so much hope.  

Hope for them, for everything they could still become, and the possibility of the future they would share.  

Notes:

Don't think about the last sentence and the final battle...

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