Tell Them

"Should we call it a night?"

Remus glanced up from the book in his lap and met the amused gaze of his friend. "The exam is tomorrow, Sirius. It never hurts to be prepared."

"You've been poring over that bloody book all night. Remus, you're prepared."

Without warning, Remus felt the Astronomy textbook slide out from underneath his fingertips as Sirius pulled it from his grasp.

"Sirius," he tried to protest, but there was no real reproach behind it. He couldn't even fool himself into objecting, not when he secretly appreciated it when Sirius would keep him company during these long study sessions. And truth be told, he was prepared, having memorized almost the entire text.

Sirius flopped down next to him, kicked his feet up onto a nearby footstool, and cracked open the book himself. As if he had read his mind, Sirius barked, "Page 237 - go."

Remus couldn't stifle the playful smile that crept up on him. "Page 237: Types of Stars," he recited. "Brown Dwarfs are typically less than 1/10th the mass of our sun. This star does not have enough mass to 'ignite' itself and therefore remains--"

"See!" Sirius nudged his shoulder while simultaneously tossing the textbook on the table in front of them. It landed with a giant thud. "It's in the bag."

"If only we could all have your confidence," said Remus, savoring the warm, if brief, touch against his arm.

"Don't be so modest, Moony. You're not top of our class for nothing."

Remus shrugged, doing his best to deflect the compliment, a difficult feat whenever it came from Sirius, who rarely said anything he didn't mean.

"You really didn't have to stay, you know," Remus reminded him, looking around the deserted common room, its other inhabitants having all retired to their dormitories. "You don't have astronomy anymore. It's hardly fair for you to be stuck here watching me study all night."

"I don't mind," was Sirius's immediate and simple reply. "I like watching you study."

Remus sucked in a quiet breath, only to keep his insides from going to pieces at such a casual statement. Lately Sirius seemed to have that power over him, and he didn't know why. The smallest comment, the tiniest gesture of affection seemed to unleash a cascade of butterflies throughout his body, something that never happened before when they were schoolboys. All he could discern, on a physiological level, was that he felt somehow complete when Sirius was near, his warm, familiar presence filling a crucial void in his being. And when they parted now, for even the smallest amount of time, his chest stung with an intense yearning for the moment when Sirius would sit beside him again, leaning in to tell him a joke or pull a face to make him laugh. Such a drastic change in reaction scared him. He didn't feel this potent connection for James or Peter, who were as much his friends as Sirius was.

So, he deflected. At least then he could nuzzle in the comfort of Sirius's closeness without having to examine it too closely.

"Moony? What's wrong?"

"What?" Remus blinked, shuttering the thoughts of his reverie.

"You were ogling." Sirius's gray eyes crossed. "What, is there a bogey in my nose or something?"

Remus laughed, thankful that he could always count on Sirius's humor to soften moments like this. Even more thankful he was for the glow of firelight to mask the sudden burning in his face.

"No. I guess I'm just getting tired. Maybe we should go to bed. 8 o'clock comes awfully fast." Even as he uttered the words, Remus lamented every one of them, hesitant to pull himself outside the space inhabited by the two of them. But he needed an excuse for his gawking.

They both stood.

"Say Remus, since we're both here," Sirius stopped. He took a steadying breath and started again, "We're close friends, right?" Piercing gray eyes stared right into his own brown ones. His voice shook the words out. "I mean, we're best mates, aren't we?"

Remus didn't know what to say other than, "Yeah, we're best mates." It was a reflexive response, perhaps the most natural and instinctive proclamation he had ever said aloud.

This seemed to relieve Sirius somewhat, who nodded in agreement. Remus's stomach gave a concerned churn. He'd never seen his friend look so stern.

"Good, mind if I get your advice on something then?"

"Advice?" Remus couldn't hold back the surprised inflection. It certainly wasn't what he was expecting to hear. Sirius never really asked him for any advice before, not so formally anyway. He was staunchly self-reliant and usually marched to the beat of his own drum - sometimes to a fault. "On what?" he said more evenly.

For the first time in the five years since he'd known Sirius - the unabashed, brazen troublemaker - Remus could've sworn he saw a slightly pink tint touch his cheeks. Or maybe it was just the fire playing on his face. It was hard to tell, with hues of firelight dancing with the red and gold décor of the common room.

"Well, see, there is someone who I kind of...fancy."

That, too, wasn't what he was expecting, and despite his duties as a friend, which dictated that he should be happy for his packmate, Remus couldn't muster up anything more than an, "Oh."

The flatness of his reply went unnoticed by Sirius, who continued. "How would you tell someone you like them, Remus?"

Remus tried to refocus himself back to the present conversation. He suddenly felt cold, as if someone had thrown ice water all over him and had enclosed a Dementor's bony hand around his heart. He knew it was only a matter of time before Sirius would finally begin to reciprocate the unbridled attention and adulation he received daily from the female population at Hogwarts. He was extremely handsome, after all, a fact Remus was always reminded of as girls giggled behind their hands, or winked at his friend whenever they walked to their classes together.

He wasn't jealous, no. Jealously would imply that Sirius were someone to be taken from him, which would then imply that Sirius belonged to him in some way. And that wasn't true. Still, he couldn't help thinking, when he saw those girls blowing Sirius kisses when he wasn't looking, that they didn't know him. They would never know the Sirius he knew -- the kind, fiercely loyal, playful confidant who would sneak him chocolate frogs while he recuperated in the hospital wing after a particularly bad transformation; or who would collect and bring him every class assignment he missed so he wouldn't fall behind; or, most importantly, who vowed to protect his darkest secret. Although Sirius could never belong to him, this knowledge he had about him did, which nevertheless filled Remus with a very deep, visceral satisfaction.

"I don't know," Remus answered truthfully. "Maybe James would be more helpful. He seems to have no problem telling Lily Evans how he feels."

"Are you mad?" Sirius looked at him with utter incredulity. "You've seen how he acts around her, and it's obvious she can't stand the git. No one has more heart than Prongs, but I wouldn't ask him for relationship advice." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "It's just so hard to find the right words." It was said more to himself than to Remus.

"Do I know this person?" Remus finally asked, a little more than curious about the girl who had managed to reduce his mate to this timid shell of his former self.

Sirius seemed to consider a moment, sticking his hands into his trouser pockets and swaying on the balls of his feet. "You could say that."

"Well," Remus sighed. "You should just tell them."

It was the first thing that came to mind, and ironically, it was the best advice he had to offer. Although he wasn't experienced at all in such matters, he still felt honesty was always the best policy - in most cases anyhow. If he had been a little braver, he might have employed his own advice in this instance, telling Sirius exactly how he felt. The only problem was he didn't fully know himself. How do you give voice to feelings you can't even explain to yourself? How do you tell someone that it hurts not to be around them without sounding nutters? Remus supposed the Sorting Hat might have to reconsider its decision after witnessing such failed-courage. Maybe Sirius will have better luck at it. Either way, as his friend first and foremost, he wanted Sirius to be happy, and Remus knew he would always do everything in his power to ensure that.

"What if they won't like me?" The childlike fear in that voice made Remus writhe with sympathy. He had never heard such vulnerability come out of those lips. Sirius was always the self-assured one, even downright cocky most of the times. Remus thought how lovely it would be to hug him in this moment, to finally bridge the physical gap between them.

"Only one way to find out," he said as gently as he could. He gave his friend a reassuring nudge. "Tell them."

Sirius stared unflinching back at him, his eyes reminding Remus of sky. When he spoke, the voice was firm. "I think I just did."