Remus puts his mug on the tray and pulls his knees up to his chest to lean his chin on them. He's just turned back this morning, and Sirius is next to him on the bed, close enough to radiate warmth but not close enough for their arms to touch.

"Finished already?" Sirius wonders, leaning over to look at the mug.

"Yeah," Remus follows his gaze towards the empty mug. Blue on the outside and white on the inside.

He shifts his eyes to look at Sirius. Sirius has showered just now, and the top of his grey t-shirt has fallen victim to several droplets of water which have left dark stains on the fabric.

Outside, everything is grey. The sky, the buildings in the distance, the trees... All sad and dark and grey. Even the light falling through the curtains has a dead feel to it.

It's almost Christmas.

"Won't you eat anything?" Remus asks.

"I already—"

"Sirius."

Sirius looks at him, but his eyes can only hold Remus' gaze for a moment. Remus inches his hand closer to Sirius', tapping the back of Sirius' hand with his little finger. He watches Sirius turn his head to look at their hands.

"I'm sorry," Sirius says softly.

"It's okay," Remus taps him again, and this time, Sirius turns his palm up and winds their fingers together.

"The therapist... She'll help," Sirius still won't look at Remus. A small pause later, he adds, "Right?"

"Yes," Remus replies, raising his head from his knees and stretching them out so that he can turn to face Sirius properly.

"I'm scared that it won't work," Sirius says. His voice goes quieter towards the end.

"We don't know that," Remus frowns, taking his other hand as well, tugging him closer and wishing he would just look up.

"I know," Sirius whispers, "it's just... I really want it to work."

"Me too," Remus tells him. "But whether it does or doesn't... The fact that you want it to, that means a lot, Sirius."

Sirius nods. When he exhales, it's loud and shaky.  

This type of weather—this cold, dead sun and this quiet calm—it fits Sirius so well. Too well. With his pale face against the backdrop of the window, with the light falling around him in soft, almost cloudy shapes, catching in his hair and crawling up from behind his shoulders, he looks like a black and white photograph Remus would find tucked in an old journal.

He reaches out to touch where the light leaves a particularly soft streak down Sirius' cheek, almost like he wants to touch that light but it slips through his fingers and they land on Sirius' skin instead.

He's so pale but he's always so warm.

Remus watches his eyes fall closed, watches the way his lashes fall down over them slowly, like a ballet in one step.

He's so beautiful, always.

Remus watches how his touch changes Sirius. How it makes his breaths unsteady, how it makes his lips part.

Remus wonders if Sirius' heart is beating as fast as his.

Remus has been with boys before. A few of them, some longer than others but it's never been this slow. It's never been this painful. None of them have taken this much out of him. And none of them have made Remus want it like this.

He moves his hand down, lets his thumb graze over Sirius' lips. He watches how it makes Sirius drag in a sharp, stuttering breath.

He drops his hand then. His fingers brush their way down Sirius neck and rest on his shoulder for a moment, where Remus shudders at the cold dampness of Sirius' shirt. And slowly, carefully, he finds Sirius elbow, and when he gets to Sirius' wrist, he stops.

He stops and finally tears his eyes away from Sirius' face.

Looks at the pale skin stretching across Sirius' wrist instead. A ghostly purple bruise flashes across his mind. It makes him run his thumb across Sirius' skin, like trying to soothe the pain of that bruise only years too late.

But it's not enough.

Remus can't tell if the room is grey or black or white anymore—everything is spinning and he's breathing fast and shaky. He holds on to Sirius, one hand on his wrist and the other still clasping his fingers, like Sirius is the only thing keeping him afloat in a sea of grey and purple and pallor.

Slowly, he brings Sirius' wrist close, tracing with his thumb the veins peeking through, gentle bursts of soft blue-green that split and wind and twist and arc so gracefully under his skin.

And when he gets so dizzy that he feels like he's going to lose his mind, when his heart is beating so loud and so fast that he can feel it all over his chest, when he finally just can't take it anymore, Remus presses his lips on the inside of Sirius' wrist.

And the gasp it draws from Sirius makes him sound so fragile that for a moment, Remus almost thinks he's hurt him.

And when Remus looks up at his face, Sirius really does look like he's in pain with the way his eyebrows have curved down, his mouth fallen open to make way for his audible breaths.

Remus loses count of how many soft kisses he presses on Sirius' hand. And when he reaches the base of Sirius' palm, Sirius finally snaps out of his torpor.

His fingers slowly curl around Remus' cheek, and he pulls Remus close and kisses him.

They kiss and kiss until they're both delirious with it, until it's so much that they can't take anymore, and so they just pull back without even meaning to.

And Remus decides that freshly-kissed is his new favourite Sirius.

Because his cheeks—his always so pale cheeks—are flushed the loveliest pink, and his lips are red and maybe a little swollen. But even then, it's his dark, shining eyes that Remus finds the most beautiful, always so expressive but even more so now.

Remus opens his arms for Sirius, and he falls into place between them, forehead coming to rest in the bend of Remus' neck where it gives way to his shoulder.

"It makes me so happy that you're trying," Remus whispers.

"Thank you," Sirius says, and his words get muffled as they catch in Remus' jumper. He presses a small kiss on Remus'shoulder.

"We'll get through it," Remus squeezes him a little. "I promise, we'll try."

***

Author's Note

It's 4 am I have lectures tomorrow (today?) and I spent an hour writing about two boys kissing and now I'm fucked

I'll write something actually substantial next time, I just wanted to do something because I'm losing readers and it makes me sad

Please pray for me because I'm gonna die during my lectures