New Moon

4.09

Remus lay very still, listening. From beside him came the steady sound of snoring. He turned over, one small movement at a time, careful not to wake his sleeping partner, settling himself as comfortably as he could. He pillowed his arms under his head and stared up at the ceiling.

4.26

Seventeen minutes. Remus stared at the clock on the bedside table until the minute flipped over. 4.27. Eighteen minutes. At least Sirius was no longer snoring.

4.43

Thirty-four minutes.

4.51

Forty-two minutes. Very gently, Remus swung his legs out from under the covers. He stood for a moment by the bed, looking down at Sirius, who had not stirred, and wondering what he was dreaming about. It looked like a pleasant dream. Sirius' face was relaxed, his breathing deep and regular. He lay half-turned towards Remus, one hand open loosely by his forehead. Remus remembered other nights, when Sirius' hands had been clenched into fists, and he had muttered wordlessly in his sleep, quieting only when Remus touched him, or whispered gently to him. Tonight, at least, he seemed to have found peace. Let sleeping dogs lie, Remus thought, smiling to himself.

He pulled on a dressing gown and walked quietly into the sitting room, feeling his way comfortably between the few pieces of furniture he owned. Once he almost slipped on a magazine lying on the floor and his lips pursed in mild irritation as he picked it up and laid it carefully on the coffee table. Sirius had few belongings, but somehow they seemed to spread all over the house. He drew back the curtain with one hand and gazed out of the window.

It was barely visible, a pale sliver of reflected starlight high in the west. Remus smiled faintly. He could no longer remember the last time he had had to search the night sky for a glimpse of the moon; he knew it now as intimately as he knew his own body. Or the face of an old friend, he amended. Every contour, every shadow on its surface was known to him.

He had spent a long time looking at it.

We've come a long way, you and I, he thought absently, regarding the moon with half-closed eyes. Love, hate, grief, fear: all the passions. And finally, peace. We've learned to live with one another.

The moon smiled at him.

He let his gaze drift away for a moment until he was staring at the stars and the darkness between them.

Oh, Padfoot. Where on earth do we go from here? He shook his head, remembering the latest not-quite row. It hadn't been a row, of course: Remus had grown adept at deflecting dangerous topics of conversation, and he was skilful at distracting Sirius when it looked as if the other man wanted to 'talk'. Sometimes he was frightened at how skilful he had become.

He had almost failed, this time.

'Control,' Sirius had said, unexpectedly, his voice almost bleeding with pain. 'It's all about control for you, isn't it?' Remus had looked up at him, sadly, but had not answered, until finally Sirius had shaken his head and walked away and Remus was alone again.

Could you have too much control? Remus wasn't sure he knew the answer any more. Sometimes he wanted to shout, or scream, or cry, or bury himself in Sirius' arms and just talk until his throat was hoarse and all the barriers had come down. But he was no longer sure how Sirius would react and all he could do was make polite conversation while the relationship disintegrated around him.

We grew up, Padfoot. We're not the same people any more.

He gazed up and to the west again. Constant companion. Old friend. The moon had seen it all. It asked for nothing he couldn't give.

A voice behind him said quietly, 'I used to look at it, too.'

Remus turned. Sirius stood in the doorway, watching him, his eyes troubled.

'You did?'

'In Azkaban.'

Remus tensed. He looked at Sirius cautiously. 'I didn't know you had -' He broke off, awkwardly, but Sirius nodded.

'Yeah.' His face twisted bleakly into something that was not quite a smile. 'A room with a view. A tiny square of sky high up in the wall. It's supposed to make it worse, I think. You go crazy staring at the sky.' He swallowed. 'I think it saved me.'

'Saved you.' Remus' voice was very quiet.

'I used to look at the moon every night.'

'Sirius -'

'Because I knew that, somewhere, you were looking at it, too.'

Something shattered inside Remus. 'Sirius. Oh, God, Sirius.' He didn't know which of them had crossed the room, but suddenly they were holding each other, Sirius' arms tight around him as if they intended never to let Remus go.

Finally Remus looked up, searching Sirius' dark eyes with his own. 'It's always been there, Padfoot,' he offered hesitantly, unsure if Sirius would understand.

Something unreadable moved fleetingly across Sirius' face and he nodded, his hand tangled in Remus' hair. 'I know. You've always looked at it, Moony. All the time I've known you. Right back to first year, when you used to slip out of bed and stare out of the window. I used to think you were homesick.' He said softly, 'One way or another, I've been watching you watch the moon for twenty-four years.'

His arms tightened their grip and he bent his head to drop a kiss into Remus' hair. 'Understand this, Remus Lupin. I love you. Loving you has kept me sane for twelve years. It's driving me mad now. But you are not going to shut me out. I won't let you.'

Remus stood very still in Sirius' arms, his face turned away. This was a new level of intimacy and he wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable with it yet. He made no move to break the embrace.

After a while, Sirius' hand moved gently in his hair. 'Still there, Moony?'

'Still here.'

'Come back to bed?'

Remus turned his head and looked up into Sirius' eyes. 'I thought you'd never ask.'