I Still Remember

The rain came down in buckets, soaking everyone crazy enough to venture outside. People scurried left and right to find cover. No one had counted on this. It had been a lovely morning, bright and cheery. The afternoon had left something to be desired, it had been cloudy and gray, but still quite warm, and no one could complain. And then, just as the sun was setting, the skies opened up and it poured down, and everything was soaked. Newspapers were thrown over heads to attempt to keep dry, umbrellas were conjured up, people hurried into their homes. No one wanted to get wet. And that was why there was only a young man, scrawny looking and undernourished, left out in the downpour. It was cold, and he shivered. His chocolate brown hair was plastered to him forehead and rivets of water streamed down his face. Hazel eyes gleamed bright as he leaned against the cool brick wall and waited.

He was barely six months out of Hogwarts, and he had already failed. He was alone, on the streets of London with but a few Sickles and borrowed flat that was much too far away to walk. So he waited. This was where he lived, he knew. And he would have to come here, to sleep. Unless, of course, he had found someone else, whereas he wouldn't need to come back here. But Remus liked to think he meant more to him then that.

Back at Hogwarts, they had been inseparable. It was unheard of, seeing one without the other. When they had begun, it had been the four of them, the Marauders, and it was perfect. Then James had gone off with Lily, but he was still faithful to his friends, and they saw him often, and neither of the two of them had realized why it was ok that he left. Little Peter, he had drifted as well; he was never much of anything anyway. And then it was just them, and it was still perfect. On the rare occasion one was without the other, they always knew what the other was up to.

The man leaned his head back against the wall and tilted his face up to the rain. He remembered that conversation, the one where he was left behind for a girl, a bloody stupid girl.

"Moony," he had offered, "I've met someone." They had been in their sixth year, and Remus had never even thought of dating anyone else, his only wish was to be around him.

"We're going to Hogsmeade together, I hope you don't mind," he had said, like it was nothing, like of course Remus wouldn't mind, it wasn't like he was in love with him or anything.

Or was he?

Remus had watched as his friend dated woman after woman, breaking hearts right and left. He had always come back though. Woman after woman, date after date, he would always come back to Remus, complaining about how "they ate too little, they would starve!" Or "they smelled as bad as you, Moony, during the full moon!" And they would laugh together, and Remus would be content that he had him back for the time being.

Then there was the fateful night that he had come back from that one date, that one night that was the best of Remus' life. He had come back to the dorm, and Remus had been waiting in the common room for him. His face was weary and wet, had it been raining that night as well?

Or was he crying?

He had come back, and wrapped Remus up in his arms, he was so much bigger. His arms were muscular; his body lean and free of any anomalies. He was perfect, and he was in his arms, finally. But Remus had been more than surprised when he had pulled back, and soft lips brushed his own, and the world turned briefly upside down. Slowly, Remus had pulled away.

"Sirius?" he had questioned, "But.... I thought..... What about all those girls?"

Subconsciously, a hand had snaked out to wrap around his waist.

"Let's face it, Moony," Sirius had said, he eyes tired but somehow different than usual.

"No one does it for me like you."

And Remus had squealed, and kissed him, and colors swirled before his eyes and he thought he would drown in it, in Sirius, and he thought let me die now, because I would be happy.

They had stumbled up to the dorm, and to his bed, and it was like nothing Remus had ever experienced. Sirius was the perfect lover, gentle, and sweet, and caring, and... loving.

And when he was curled up in those strong, perfect arms, when he was sure Sirius was asleep, he had mumbled into his chest something that he had known for years.

"I love you, Sirius," he had said, and looked up at his beautiful face, half hoping that he had heard and he wouldn't have to pretend any longer. But his face remained impassive, and he slept on. Remus sighed and did the same.

He shifted his position against the wall. It was quite uncomfortable. But Sirius, the Sirius he had known, was worth it. Would he ever show up?

Their relationship, thought secret to all but a few friends, had been heaven to Remus. Sirius had driven him wild in ways that Remus could never even begin to explain. A soft brush in the hallway, a little chuckle just for him, a meaningful glance across a crowded room.

And Remus had loved ever second of it.

And then there had been that night, when Sirius had come to him, and he had said stuff about work, about after Hogwarts, and about how he couldn't deal with controlling a werewolf every month. If he really wanted to be an Auror, he didn't have time for that kind of stuff now did he?

And Remus had nodded numbly, because everything he said made sense, and no matter how he had tried Remus couldn't hate him for it, the only person he had to hate was himself.

But Remus knew it was all lies, that Sirius had broken up with him out of some sick faithfulness to his family. No matter how much he hated them, and yes, he really, really hated them, they were still the only family he had and he didn't want to be alone.

They had graduated, moved on, and kept in loose contact, mostly through James. That was where Remus had learned where Sirius lived, and indirectly how he had come to be standing in the pouring rain on the damp streets of London outside his former lover's apartment building, fully prepared to beg to be taken back.

Down the street, another figure, this one much larger and healthier looking, approached. Remus tensed, his body perking up like a dog that had caught a scent.

He came nearer, and the familiar feature soaked and wet looked at him with a look of concern.

"What happened?" he asked, "Is it James?"

"No," Remus had replied, "No, James is fine."

"Then why are you here?" Sirius looked tired, more tired than he remembered, but some of the apprehension slid off his face.

Remus took a deep breath, and figured, if it didn't work, then at least he would still have the memories, right?

"For this," he said, and stood on tiptoe to ghost a soft, gentle kiss on the taller man's lips.