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Sirius woke up once again drenched in sweat, breathing heavily and with tears in his eyes. He looked around the dark room, the only light coming from the moon outside. He tried to calm himself, to remind himself where he was and that he was safe there. But after dreams like these, it was incredibly difficult. He got up from his bed and, with steps he knew by heart, walked to his best friend's bed.
"James…" he whispered, pulling back the burgundy curtains.
But the bed was empty, which might have surprised him if he had been in a better state of mind. Feeling tears welling up again, Sirius sat on the empty bed and buried his face in his hands.
***
Remus, hearing the sound of curtains being drawn back near one of his friends' beds, quickly turned off the small reading lamp and, as quietly as possible, slid his book under his pillow. He didn’t want to explain why he wasn’t asleep at this hour or listen to lectures about needing to rest. He laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, just in case any of the boys decided to check on him.
He heard footsteps crossing the room, the rustle of curtains at the bed next to his, and a plaintive whisper: “James.” There was no doubt it was Sirius. He waited for a moment, listening, but the only sounds that followed were the creak of the mattress and muffled sobs. Gently pulling back the curtains of his own bed, Remus peered out. In the dim moonlight, he could make out his friend sitting on the adjacent bed, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands. The bed behind him appeared to be empty.
Without making a sound, Remus got up from his bed and crossed the space between them in a single step. He sat down next to Sirius without a word, unsure of what to do next. He wasn’t great at comforting people, especially when the person in need was the usually cheerful Sirius Black. He didn’t know what to say or how to act, so he sat there stiffly, debating his next move. Before he could gather his thoughts, he suddenly felt a weight on his lap. His heart raced, and his breath caught in his throat as he realized it was Sirius’s dark hair sprawled across his thighs.
What was he supposed to do now? Could this be considered just a friendly gesture? Sirius often hugged James, and it was never anything more than platonic. So why did Remus’s heart skip a beat? Why did he allow himself that sliver of hope? It was obvious that someone like Sirius Black couldn’t feel anything for him beyond friendship. Half the school had a crush on Sirius; there was no way he would notice someone as plain as Remus.
Remus had long since accepted that Sirius would never return his feelings. He would have to be out of his mind to feel something for a half-blood werewolf. And though Remus knew Sirius might date someone like him just to defy his mother, he couldn’t believe those feelings would ever be genuine.
Repeating to himself that his friend was just sad and needed support, that it was purely platonic, Remus placed one hand on Sirius’s shoulder and tangled the other in his dark curls. He had heard somewhere that Sirius hated people touching his hair, but now, as his long fingers gently combed through the tangled strands, Sirius’s breathing began to calm.
“What happened?” Remus whispered after a few minutes, once his friend’s body had stopped trembling.
“Bad dream,” came the tired reply. “I hate her.”
Remus didn’t need to ask who Sirius meant; it was all too obvious.
“Can I help you somehow?” he asked hesitantly, considering offering tea from the kitchen or sharing his calming potion, but Sirius surprised him with his answer.
“Just be here,” Sirius whispered, turning on his side and wrapping his arms around Remus’s waist, burying his tear-streaked face in the folds of his nightshirt. He sighed deeply, his eyes still closed.
Remus didn’t know how long they sat like that, but when his own eyelids began to droop, he decided it was time to get back to bed.
“Pads,” he whispered, gently shaking Sirius’s shoulder. But Sirius only murmured something and clung to him even tighter.
Sighing, Remus, now truly longing for his own pillow, scooped his friend up bridal style and carried him to the bed across the room. He laid him down gently, covered him with the blanket, and paused for a moment, watching as Sirius nestled his cheek against his hand. Remus’s heart ached as he looked at the boy he couldn’t have. In sleep, Sirius looked so peaceful, so vulnerable…
In a sudden rush of courage, Remus leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. A moment later, he had to convince himself that the smile he noticed on Sirius’s face was purely coincidental and not a reaction to his gesture.
Returning to his own bed, Remus lay down, ready to finally fall asleep. But before he could even close his eyes, he heard Sirius’s voice.
“Remmy…” Sirius began hesitantly. Remus hummed in response to let him know he was listening. “Can I… sleep in your bed tonight?”
To say that Remus was taken aback would be an understatement. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts and form them into words.
“If it’ll make you feel better,” he replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
He soon heard Sirius climb down from the bed and approach. Remus made room, sliding to the edge of the mattress and lifting the blanket in an inviting gesture. Sirius lay down beside him, awkwardly at first, facing away from Remus, but then turned over, staring at the back of his head.
Remus breathed steadily, giving the impression that he had already fallen into a deep sleep. In reality, he was wide awake, pretending to sleep out of fear. Fear of what Sirius might say, fear of questions he couldn’t answer without revealing his feelings. He feigned sleep and listened.
At some point, he thought Sirius had fallen asleep as well; the rustling of the sheets had stopped, and the mattress was no longer shifting. But just as he processed that thought, a cold hand slid along his waist, wrapping around him gently.
Moments later, he felt Sirius bury his face in the nape of his neck, his lips briefly brushing against his skin.
Remus was convinced Sirius could feel his racing heartbeat, which he could no longer calm. He said nothing, though. After all, this could still be entirely platonic, right?