Remus doesn't wake up when Sirius returns. In fact, he doesn't even wake up to his alarm.

"Remus,"

His eyes open slowly, lazily. Around him, Sirius' bedroom is full of warm golden light. As his vision clears, he can make out Sirius' face.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Sirius smiles wide, his pale face in direct sunlight. Remus has to squint.

Wait, what time is it?

"Oh God, I'm late," he gasps, sitting up so fast he almost knocks Sirius off of the bed.

"Almost, yes. Go get dressed, yeah? I've made you breakfast."

Remus blinks a couple times. "I didn't even hear you come home... Sirius, did you even sleep at all?"

"Well, I was going to, but my bed was occupied by a cute werewolf and one of his cats," Sirius' eyes sparkle as he gives Remus a crooked, boyish smile.

"Oh God..." Remus' throat goes dry. What the fuck even happened last night? "I'm so sorry, Sirius, I really don't know—"

"I was only teasing you," Sirius laughs, standing up. "It's okay, I'll sleep after you leave. Now go, or you're actually going to be late."

***

Between trying to figure out if a hundred year old bookshelf is strong enough to bear all the dictionaries at Book Hall and listening to Miss Hall tell him about her ex-girlfriend who got married to a Japanese wizard who sells custom wands made of "exotic" wood types, Remus falls into a deep train of thought.

He tries not to think of Sirius, but at this point in Remus' life, that isn't even possible. He thinks of the sketches he saw the night before, the anger that was almost tangible in between those pages.

"—And you know what she told me the last time we met? That she wished things were different between us. And I took that as a compliment," Miss Hall says, giving Remus a pointed look from above her gold rimmed glasses.

"Of course," Remus mutters, wincing when he hears an ominous crack from the bookshelf. He takes a step back, just in case.

"What was that, dear?"

"I said, as you should, Miss Hall," Remus pulls a tight smile, glancing at the shelf uneasily. "I... really don't think this shelf can hold all these heavy books," he adds.

"Oh, it'll be fine, it'll be fine..."

"Uhm—"

A horizontal panel of the shelf gives out, and a pile of books come crashing down. Yelping, Remus jumps back just in time to avoid his foot being crushed by Latin for the Advanced Wizard, a formidable assault weapon which comes with the added plus of arming its owner with the most obscure Latin.

"Well, that's tragic," Miss Hall shakes her head gravely, then turns back to the vase she was arranging. "Do fix it for me, won't you, Remus dear?"

Remus holds in a sigh, and summons a wide smile in its place. "Of course, Miss Hall," he says brightly, like he hasn't, for hours now, been telling her this would happen. "I'd be absolutely thrilled to."

***

When Remus steps out of the fireplace, he finds Sirius waiting for him.

"Well, hello there," Sirius closes his book and puts it aside, propping his chin on his hand. "How was work?"

"Fine," Remus huffs, "Almost lost my foot to a Latin Spellbook, but fine."

Sirius laughs in response. Remus scowls at him.

"Oh, that look really hurt me," Sirius pouts, a hand over his heart.

Rolling his eyes, Remus walks over to him, offering a hand to help him stand up. Sirius takes it. Remus doesn't pull that hard, but Sirius must weigh just a little more than one of his cats, because he practically comes flying into Remus' chest.

"Oh," Remus' arms frantically try to hold on to Sirius as he almost falls backwards on to the floor. Remus manages to find his balance, one hand on Sirius' back and the other latching on to the nearest bookshelf.

"Your heart's beating really fast..." Sirius' words are muffled as they get trapped in Remus' jumper, and Remus suddenly becomes hyper-aware of... of, well, everything.

Everything starting with Sirius' fingers curled around the dark brown cashmere of his jumper and ending with his soft hair brushing Remus' jaw. Not to mention Remus' cheeks, which right now rank right below Sun on the list of hottest surfaces known to man.

Carefully, almost gingerly, Remus takes him by his shoulders and moves him away. God, he smells so lovely.

Sirius takes a step back, head turned down, but Remus can see the pale rose washing over his cheeks. It's barely there, like a spill of red ink on white fabric that's been scrubbed off, but not without leaving the faintest hint of colour behind.

"Sorry," he says, avoiding Remus' eyes, "I didn't mean to fall on you. Except I didn't fall on you... Whatever it is that you call falling upwards. I didn't mean to do it,"

Remus can't help his laughter. Sirius gives him a shy smile, cheeks still pink.

"I'll make the tea today," Remus says, taking his bag off of his shoulder. Dutiful as ever, Sirius pries it out of his hands. "Okay. Let's go, then."

***

Seated in the kitchen, Remus stares at Sirius' back. He should be helping with the cooking, but for several reasons, he isn't. One, he's it very good at it. Two, Sirius is very good at it. So good that Remus would only slow him down, or commit a vile act of treason like using the wrong knife or using water from the tap (Sirius has a water filter).

Even with Sirius waltzing left and right as he chops and dices and seasons and God knows what else, images from the night before come rushing into Remus' mind. He speaks up so that he can focus on something else. "This uncle of yours... Is he very ill?"

Sirius turns his head to look at Remus over his shoulder, hands still working on dicing an onion. "Well, yes. He has a bad case of arthritis, but he's fallen and hurt his leg now. So he had to get surgery," he turns his head forward again, but continues, "He wouldn't have called for help otherwise. He's one stubborn old man."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Remus offers, "Doesn't he have children of his own?"

"No, he doesn't. I'm sure he counts me as his own, but technically, he doesn't."

Remus frowns as he tries to digest that. Then he remembers that Sirius and his parents are not on good terms.

"You were close to him?"

"Yeah," Sirius says, a little quiet. "I was. He was... the only adult in my family who could stand me. Mother hated him for it."

"I'm sorry, Sirius," Remus says again, a lot more genuine. Sirius turns around, giving him a warm smile. And Remus doesn't really understand how he can smile like that.

"It's okay," he says, almost too nonchalant. "Even after I ran away to James', Uncle Alphard didn't give up on me. This house is his, actually. He gave it to me when I turned eighteen, said I couldn't live with the Potters forever."

"Oh," Remus says, looking around the kitchen. "I didn't know that,"

"Did you really think me and Reg could afford this massive place?"

"Well... yes? I mean, no, no," Remus mumbles, shifting in his chair, "I just didn't think about it."

When he looks up, Sirius is looking at him.

"What?" Remus asks, blushing lightly.

Sirius tilts his head like he's trying to figure something out. He then chucks a clove of garlic at Remus, which bounces off of his forehead.

"Garlic doesn't do anything to me. That's vampires," Remus glares at him. He picks the clove up from his lap where it fell, and throws it back at Sirius.

It hits Sirius smack on the forehead.

No, it doesn't. Of course it doesn't, because Remus' aim is still as horrible as that one time he tried to play cricket when he was nine, and ended up hitting the batsman in the face.

The clove of garlic lands pathetically on the floor by Sirius' feet, which makes him burst out laughing.

"Stop it," Remus huffs. "Why'd you even throw it at me in the first place?"

"Because," Sirius leans down to pick it up, his t-shirt so loose on him that it reveals all of his chest. Blushing, Remus looks away. The garlic hits him again, right in the middle of his cheek this time. Remus tries to glare at Sirius, but it proves to be too difficult when his cheeks are practically burning off of his face.

"Because what?" He asks, voice almost embarrassingly strained.

"Because you're really adorable," Sirius grins, "Especially when you blush like that."