Remus takes the quickest shower of his entire life, gets dressed and goes back downstairs to make tea. Done with that, he drags himself up the stairs, guiding his tray in front of him using his wand.

"Sirius?" He calls when he gets to the door.

"Come in," Sirius calls from inside. Remus pushes the door open. Sirius is standing in front of the open wardrobe, a hand still on its handle.

"Oh, wow," Sirius whistles, "Look how talented you are,"

"There's only one Animagus in this room, and that isn't me," Remus smiles at him, setting the tea down on Sirius' desk and tucking his wand in his pocket.

"What are you doing?" he frowns, stepping towards Sirius as he starts to bed down. "What do you want? Let me get it for you,"

Sirius rolls his eyes. "Go and sit, Lupin," he orders. "No," Remus narrows his eyes. "Fine," Sirius huffs, reaching his hand into Remus' pocket and pulling his wand out. "Now, will you go and sit?"

"You could've just let me help... Why are you so difficult?"

Sirius shrugs. "It's my innate charm," he grins. Remus rolls his eyes and sits down on Sirius bed. He watches Sirius levitate a massive cardboard box over to him, setting it down a couple inches in front of him. Sirius closes the wardrobe and climbs in bed next to Remus.

"The tea," Remus reminds him. "I don't want to spill it," Sirius says, holding Remus' wand out to him. "You bring it over."

Remus does as he's told, and clears some space on Sirius' bedside table for the tray to land. "Do you wanna drink the tea first?" He asks.

"We can do both," Sirius smiles at him, shifting a bit closer. Remus puts a pillow between Sirius and the headboard before he leans on it. "What?" He asks when he catches Sirius staring. "Nothing," Sirius clears his throat. "Nothing, I just... Need to show you this,"

Remus looks at box properly for the first time. It's as plain as it can be, with no indication of what could be inside of it.

He waits for Sirius to open it. And when that doesn't happen, he turns his eyes back to Sirius, who's chewing on his lip while staring at the box almost apprehensively.

Remus places a hand on his knee. "Sirius?" He prompts. Sirius blinks. "You know you don't have to... To tell me anything, right? You don't have to do this,"

"I want to," Sirius says softly, "It's just... I don't know. I don't know why it's so hard." He moves a bit closer to put his head on Remus' shoulder.

"You're alright," Remus tells him, squeezing his shoulder gently. They stay like that for a while, and eventually, Sirius pulls himself up, dragging the box on to his lap.

"Just," Sirius bites his lip, "Just listen to me, okay?"

Remus nods.

What he takes out first is a photo album. It's thick, and the dark leather is engraved with golden vines and flowers. Sirius frowns at it for a moment, but pushes it away. Remus doesn't say anything. Sirius takes his time shuffling through whatever's in the box, so Remus gets their tea from the tray.

"Drink this, it might go cold," he hands Sirius' mug out to him. "Thank you," Sirius mutters. He practically inhales the tea before shoving the mug back into Remus' hand. A painfully quiet few minutes later, Sirius finally finds what he's looking for. It's a long string with a bunch of photos clipped on, as if it was meant to be hung somewhere.

Sirius carefully moves his box off of his lap before curling up next to Remus once more, wincing as he puts weight on his injured hand.

"Before I start," Sirius mumbles, "I just... Want you to know that I'm not very good at this," he says, "But I still want to tell you. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Remus smiles at him. He puts his empty cup away and wraps an arm around Sirius. "You can tell me anything you want. I'll listen,"

"Thank you," Sirius whispers, pressing his cheek on Remus' shoulder. He struggles to untangle the string, so Remus takes it from him and straightens it out. The photos are old, and Remus can instantly recongize Sirius in them. His smile is so wide, and in some of them, he's laughing like he rules the world. James is there, too. In some. And Regulus.

"They're in order," Sirius tells him. "I thought... When I started taking them, I thought that maybe they could tell a story," he says. "I never pictured it would be this way, but I guess i was right,"

"You look..." Remus traces a finger over the first photo. It's Sirius and James in their Hogwarts uniforms. Red and gold ties, both of them half undone, and Sirius' shirt unbuttoned at the top. He's not even wearing his cloak. His hair is unruly, but not like James'. Where James' hair is just a hopeless mess, even Sirius' messy hair looks like it's been styled to be that way. "Happy," Remus finishes, looking at the wide grins on the boys' faces.

"I was," Sirius says quietly. "I wish I could go back to those days. Everything was so much easier,"

His words hurt Remus right in the middle of his chest. "I'm sorry," he says.

"Not your fault," Sirius smiles, lifting his face up. But his eyes are dark and sad. "That was in sixth year," he says. "The best time of my life. I'd just started living with James, and I thought nothing could hurt me anymore,"

Remus looks at the photo again. At the brightness of Sirius' smile. He still smiles like that, sometimes.

Sirius picks the second photo up. It's him and James again. He isn't smiling in this one, though. He's scowling at the camera with his arms crossed, wrapped up in a cloak whose shoulders are dropping down. James, however, looks characteristically full of joy, all his teeth on fill display in a wide, boyish grin. He's wearing his Quidditch gear. Behind them, the dark sky lined with pale orange.

"That's only one out of million times when James dragged me out of bed because he couldn't practise alone,"

"Can't blame him," Remus smiles, "You look thrilled to be there."

Sirius bursts out laughing. "It was cold," he shakes his head, "Even with James' cloak, it was still bloody freezing on the bleachers."

"Where's this?" Remus asks, moving on to the third photo. It's only Sirius here. He's dressed his infamous leather jacket—so infamous that even Remus, who spoke to no more than five people at school, had come to know about it back then—over a black t-shirt.

"Nowhere," Sirius shrugs. "I just went for a ride. And then James called and demanded that I send a picture to prove I'm not dead. Even if I was speaking to him."

Only James Potter would employ such brilliant logic.

"He really cares about you," Remus says. "I know," Sirius sighs, "But back then, sometimes it was just..."

"Too much?"

"Yeah," Sirius looks down. "I might've even hated him for it at some point."

"Hated him?"

"Yeah," Sirius whispers. He lifts a hand to wipe at his eyes, but there are no tears. "Back then, I did a lot of stuff I wish I didn't."

Remus really wants to kiss his forehead, but he doesn't know if he should. He takes Sirius' good hand in his free hand and gives it a little squeeze of reassurance. Sirius looks at him, lips straining to smile.

"Let's move on," he clears his throat, grabbing the next photo. "I've got a lot to say, and I've barely started yet."

***

Author's Note

I can't think of a name for Sirius' boyfriend so if you wanna help me with that, please do.

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