With one moon left until his transformation, Remus has confined himself to bed. And like the dutiful boyfriend he is, Sirius is fretting over him.
Remus would be flattered if not for the fact that he can't feel much beyond his back. And God, everything is so loud.
He can hear Regulus slamming pots in the kitchen and stomping this way and that, he can hear Sirius gasp for air-except Regulus is only doing the dishes downstairs, and Sirius is only sitting on the bed next to him, calm as ever.
One of his hands is lost in Remus' hair, long fingers drawing careful strokes on Remus' scalp.
"Tell me about the therapist," Remus mumbles. Sirius' fingers stop moving for a second.
"I don't know much about her," Sirius says. He speaks soft and slow. "Apparently she's one of James' customers. She's a witch but she works as a Muggle therapist."
"Did you make an appointment?"
"No," Sirius' fingers start moving again. "I was planning on doing it after telling Reg and you,"
"When I turn back," Remus offers.
"Yeah, we can do it then," Sirius says.
"I'm really glad you're getting help," Remus says, his voice dropping a bit lower as he fights harder to stay awake.
"Thank you," Sirius whispers. "I have to do it. For you."
"For me?" Remus frowns.
"For Reg, too. He deserves to not worry about whether I'll turn up dead every time I leave the house. And James..."
"And yourself." Remus sits up because he wants to look at Sirius properly. Sirius looks at Remus in confusion, hand dropping from his hair and on to his lap. Remus takes it in both of his own.
"If there's anyone you should do it for, it's you, Sirius."
Remus waits for an answer, but doesn't get one. "You deserve it," he adds in a whisper.
It's late. And the moon, being almost full, is creeping its cool beams in through Sirius' curtains. They light Sirius' hair from behind, drawing on the edge of his cheek a dreamy blue line that makes him look like he's from another realm. The heater was on higher a while ago, but Sirius turned it down because of how warm Remus was starting to get. To Remus, it barely feels cool in the room, but he can tell Sirius is cold by the way his shoulders are all bunched.
"I know it should be for me," Sirius finally says, directing his gaze at their hands. "But I don't think... I don't think I can, right now."
Remus lifts a hand to touch his cheek, right where it's gone blue with moonlight. His skin is so cool under Remus' fever-hot touch.
"You'll get there, someday," Remus tells him.
"I want to," Sirius replies. "I promise, I'm going to try."
That's more than enough. It makes Remus smile, and seeing that, Sirius' face breaks into one of those adorable, wide grins of his that makes his eyes disappear with how much they crinkle up.
"You can turn the heat up," Remus tells him.
"Oh?" Sirius' smile morphs into a lot less innocent smirk, and Remus can barely contain his facepalm.
"Not that kind of heat, Sirius," he rolls his eyes. It makes Sirius laugh. "I'll be fine," he shrugs. "Maybe you can cuddle me instead-" he frowns then, and adds, "Actually, maybe not. I don't want you in pain."
Remus rolls his eyes once more. "Just come under," he tugs at his blanket which is stuck under Sirius. Sirius looks down at it, and shifts so that Remus can pull it out.
"Well?" Remus questions, holding the corner of the blanket up. Sirius looks at it, and grinning, pulls his legs up and slides underneath. Despite his back, Remus can't help his own little grin.
They fall into place in each other's arms. It's new enough to make Remus feel a bit giddy, but it still feels so right to have Sirius this close after longing for it so much and for so long.
And Remus thinks he'll never tire of the sweet smell of flowers in Sirius' hair. Remus probably smells like that too, since they share the bathroom, but it's not the same.
After pressing a small kiss on Sirius' forehead, Remus falls asleep.