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small_giftsTitle: heart and lungs (comme un grand trou qui se creuse remix)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
passakiss
Written for:l_stone
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: A remix of one ofl_stone's fics.
Summary: They are young and mostly untainted, oblivious to the rush of the earth below them, the approach of the beginning of an end.
Any other notes, warnings, etc.: Thanks tofinallyflyapart for being a great last-minute beta. (:
It’s unsettlingly close to midnight, and thirteen-year-old Remus is drunk on fatigue and happiness. They are young and mostly untainted, oblivious to the rush of the earth below them, the approach of the beginning of an end. There is nothing higher in the world than the tallest towers of Hogwarts; there is nothing more mysterious than the way a friendship forms out of laughter in the middle of the night.
“I’m all right,” Remus promises giddily, “I’m better now. Ah. That was a good laugh.” His recklessness is fresh and (nearly) limitless, and he’s still reeling with the beauty of it all, stamping out the last remains of guilty feelings and self-consciousness with unfamiliar, borrowed confidence. His giggling has yet to fade completely, so he bites his lip and takes deep breaths until it does, thinking with relief that he might’ve gone on forever.
“It wasn’t that funny,” Sirius says.
He’s perfectly correct, of course, and Remus really couldn’t explain what he’d found so amusing if he’d tried, but it doesn’t matter, so Remus decides to keep his mouth shut and closes his eyes instead of responding. The pillow is extremely soft and Sirius, his cold foot twitching against Remus’ ankle, lies less than an arm’s length away. Remus hides his smile in his pillowcase as his breathing slows. It’s difficult not to keep on grinning, and Remus blames his silliness on the sleep deprivation.
“So…do you think you can get to sleep yet?”
Remus sighs. He knows he can’t exactly fall asleep in Sirius’ bed, but he isn’t quite ready to face the cool, neat, unwelcoming sheets of his own. He’s much too comfortable to move. “I might be more awake than ever,” he lies. “Tell me something else.”
“Hmmm, okay…” Sirius mumbles.
Remus is perfectly content with the silence and could care less if Sirius has anything else to say or not – but Sirius Black and silence could never spend too much time around one another without severe damage being caused to one or both of them, and of course, it doesn’t last long. “Well, did you hear about Louis?”
“What about Louis?” Remus mumbles drowsily.
“He was caught in the third floor bathrooms with that Ravenclaw prefect, Benjamin, doing…” He pauses. “You know.”
“Doing what?”
“Having sex,” Sirius whispers with a kind of breathless excitement. Remus opens his eyes, but avoids looking at Sirius. “Oh,” he says. He doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say. He feels a bit ill.
“Don’t you get it? It’s…I mean…it’s kind of big news.”
Suddenly everything feels different; the calm inside of Remus is shaken. Logically, Remus knows that Sirius is just trying to be a good friend by sharing these things with him. But somehow Remus still feels exiled.
“Oh believe me, I get it, Sirius,” he sighs. He stares at his friend, trying to gauge his feelings. “Do you think it’s wrong?” he asks quietly. He’s not sure why, but there is some kind of unseen weight in the question, something lingering beneath the surface.
The question seems to have caught Sirius off guard. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and Remus breathing stops as he waits for him to answer. “No,” he says finally, “Never. I mean – whatever Louis wants – whatever – makes – him happy.”
This is a voice he has never heard before. Remus looks at him, noting the furrow in his brow, and something unsaid seems to pass between them. “Yes,” Remus agrees. The silence is uncomfortable, suddenly, and Remus swallows, shifting awkwardly in the sheets for a few moments before saying, “I think…I think I should go back to my bed now. Thank you Sirius,” he says, smiling half-heartedly at him, “You’ve been helpful.”
It sounds oddly formal and out-of-place, just like Sirius’ awkward, “See you tomorrow, then,” that follows him back to his own cold bed.
---
Sirius doesn’t like keeping secrets. In some ways, their childhoods were all too similar: both were shadowed by things unsaid, leaving gaping wounds of silence where laughter should’ve been. Now, they just deal with what they have left in different ways. Sirius is straightforward and reckless to the point of childishness, compensating for the childhood he never quite had. Remus is too old for his age, the boy in him locked away in cool logic. Sirius believes that everything should be kept out in the open, or at least to a couple of people. And even though Sirius says that he understands, that it’s perfectly alright with him if Remus dates another bloke, there’s something off about the looks he keeps giving him when he doesn’t know that Remus is watching. By living outside of the Marauders, Remus is breaking their code.
Remus has come to realize that some things are better left unsaid. When he comes back into the dorm at late hours and tells the three of him that he’s been studying with that boy from Ravenclaw again, only two will remain blissfully oblivious. He unintentionally catches Sirius’ eye, and there’s that look again, confusion with the slightest trace of what is it? – disappointment? – a question he can’t answer, and Remus bites his lip, turning away from his gaze. Later, when it’s just the two of them, Sirius will nod at him and smile cautiously, pointing out his disheveled appearance, fixing his tie without being asked. Remus should be grateful, but for some reason, he isn’t.
Remus doesn’t really know what he expects from Sirius, but it isn’t sympathy.
Maybe it’s just the knowledge that Sirius doesn’t truly know what it’s like. Jacob, on the other hand, has always understood that there are some things others shouldn’t know, things better left to dark corners and furtive whispers. He shares this with him. Somehow, Remus is starting to think that a common secret might be the wrong reason to be with someone, and he can’t pretend that he doesn’t want something more. But he’s learned to settle, and when he ends up settling for boys like Jacob – boys far, far out of his league – well, then he has nothing to complain about, then, does he?
It would be nice to be able to say that he’s happy with Jacob. In some ways, he is. Jacob sets a part of him free that his friends will never know, just as Jacob will never see the monster within him. But it’s all most complex than Remus ever wanted it to be, and he keeps finding himself wondering if it’s even worth it.
Jacob has had only one relationship before, and it was very different than the one with Remus. For one thing, it was open, and this is why it originally failed, straining them both until eventually (and whenever Jacob s mentions this, his voice loses all of its life) it just couldn’t work anymore. This, with Remus, is much easier, much simpler, and much less stressful. But the hasty meet-ups in corners at awkward hours quickly begin to merge together, and the empty feeling he’s left with afterward lingers a bit longer each time. They’re caught in a standstill, unable to move forward and too entrenched to go back. Then again, maybe Remus is just seeing things through his own twisted perspective.
They’ve been dating, technically, since before Christmas, and the weather is already warm when Jacob tells breathes three unfamiliar words into his neck, and Remus doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince. It isn’t that they don’t like each other, it’s that there’s something in between them, like they’re each trying to replace the other with someone else. Remus doesn’t repeat it, and as he fixes the buttons on his shirt, casually tries to change the subject to something which promises to be fairly boring and harmless: their weekend plans.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jacob says, “Probably just try to get some work time and spend time with Evan and them. You know, go get a drink or something.” Jacob keeps talking, but Remus is no longer listening. Mentioning Evan is no more than a cheap attempt to return some of the hurt Remus has obviously inflicted upon him, but the empty anger that rises up in Remus is so powerful and unexpected that he is left suffocating, gasping for air, and he leaves without a goodbye.
He finds Sirius in the common room playing chess with James, and it only takes a look from Remus for him to know to follow him up to the dormitory. Remus waits on Sirius’ bed while Sirius purposefully loses, wondering why it doesn’t work like this with Jacob.
Sirius sits beside him, Remus hesitates, staring at the floor while he tries desperately to find the words to describe where exactly things have gone wrong. He doesn’t know how to explain that he never thought of himself as someone idealistic, but this isn’t what he expected, and it might just not be what he wants.
“I don’t know,” he says in an unnecessary whisper. “I mean—he has an ex. I don’t…have any ex’s. I can’t compete. He…I don’t know. It’s awkward, around this other guy.” Remus’ voice sounds unfamiliar, and he can’t relate to his own words. This suddenly seems like a bad idea. “I’m so…fucking jealous I don’t know.” He swallows, and raises his eyes from his shoes to look at Sirius. It’s painful.
“Well, he’s with you, isn’t he?” Sirius points out with a kindness Remus isn’t sure he deserves. “Can’t still be too enamored of that other bloke.” Sirius shifts awkwardly. Romantic conversation is neither of their strong suits. Remus can’t help feeling like there’s something else Sirius wants to say.
Sirius sees everything in such a straightforward manner that after talking to him, everything should seem simple. But Sirius’ words only stir up doubts and widen the gap between them, forcing Remus to realize what he didn’t want to think about: he can’t believe that Jacob actually cares about him. And Remus doesn’t know how much cares about him either.
But somehow, despite the sleepless nights he spent worrying about it, the problem solves itself when whatever he has with Jacob ends just as quietly as it began. Jacob tugs on his sleeve on his way to Astronomy in a way that’s sickeningly reminiscent of all the times he was guided away for very different reasons, and they move to the boy’s bathroom. Remus has never been able to read Jacob all that well, but he knows what’s about to happen before Jacob even opens his mouth. Even their ending, Remus realizes, is uneventful and quiet. This isn’t going to work anymore, Jacob explains, sprinkling pleasantries into the words. You’ll always be special to me, but – I’m sorry, but –
Remus shakes his head, hearing only that Jacob still is not over Evan, that he’s finally agreed to take him back (Jacob doesn’t say either of these things, but Remus hears them). He apologizes and leaves Remus standing alone in the bathroom, his own reflection replacing the space Jacob occupied moments before. Remus turns on the water, pushing the faucet all the way to the right before moving his face towards the icy water. He is unable to face his own shame and tell Sirius what happened, unable to face him at all, and all at once it becomes uncomfortably apparent that Jacob has never really been what he wanted, that he’d just been looking for someone who wanted him, someone he had the slightest of a chance with. But he’s ruined even that.
Three weeks later Jacob leans across the Ravenclaw table to whisper something to Evan. They share a smile and stand up slowly, leaving the hall with their heads bent towards on another in quiet conversation. Remus finally manages to tear his gaze away from them, only to find Sirius staring at him with a look of wounded, pitying comprehension. Their eyes lock for less than half a second before Remus turns to his soup, doing his best to pretend that this is a perfectly typical lunch. Peter cheerfully asks if he could help him with his Defense homework after they eat, and Remus agrees with relief, hoping that this is a sign that at least things are back to normal.
---
Sirius will be nineteen in less than fifteen minutes, and Remus is slowly drowning in an ocean of sweat and noise. He might also a little tipsy – but then, who isn’t? This kind of place seems fitting for Sirius’ birthday, a seedy London pub filled by faceless drunk, sex-starved muggles who won’t recognize their faces in a few hours. They’re eighteen, and the novel of these things still hasn’t worn off. It’s strangely exhilarating, even though Remus isn’t dancing so much as standing in the centre of everything while the world sways around him. He’s lost the others somewhere in the crowd, and all he can feel is the music pulsing in his chest.
It’s getting difficult to breathe, and he needs to find James and Peter soon, because Sirius is only going to turn nineteen once – if they miss it, they’ll surely suffer the consequences later. Remus cranes his neck to see above the crowd, and just when he’s beginning to think they’ve all already left without him, he sees Sirius.
He’s standing a few feet away, motionless within the sea of movement, and when Remus takes a step towards him, the crowd shifts and they collide. He almost laughs, but then he meets Sirius’ eyes, and suddenly he feels his throat going dry. The words he planned are swallowed in the silence between them, and now there’s nothing to say at all.
He doesn’t quite know what’s happening – there’s a surreal, dreamlike quality to every movement made, a haziness surrounding everything that has to do with more than the alcohol. The room might as well be empty, and there is a question in Sirius’ eyes again – that question, the one Remus doesn’t know how to answer. He wants to tell Sirius that it’s alright, that nothing can hurt them, but Remus has never been able to lie to Sirius, and all he can do is stare. He hears nothing over the violent pounding of his heart, and he tilts his head as Sirius does, no longer aware of who is mimicking who.
They are completely alone, two boys on a ledge of something that seems much bigger than either of them. As Sirius tugs at his shoulder, Remus closes his eyes and leans forward, knowing there’ll be nothing there to break his fall. He still doesn’t know the question, but with Sirius, the answer is, and will always be, yes.
Author:
passakissWritten for:
l_stoneRating: PG-13
Prompt: A remix of one of
l_stone's fics.Summary: They are young and mostly untainted, oblivious to the rush of the earth below them, the approach of the beginning of an end.
Any other notes, warnings, etc.: Thanks to
finallyflyapart for being a great last-minute beta. (:It’s unsettlingly close to midnight, and thirteen-year-old Remus is drunk on fatigue and happiness. They are young and mostly untainted, oblivious to the rush of the earth below them, the approach of the beginning of an end. There is nothing higher in the world than the tallest towers of Hogwarts; there is nothing more mysterious than the way a friendship forms out of laughter in the middle of the night.
“I’m all right,” Remus promises giddily, “I’m better now. Ah. That was a good laugh.” His recklessness is fresh and (nearly) limitless, and he’s still reeling with the beauty of it all, stamping out the last remains of guilty feelings and self-consciousness with unfamiliar, borrowed confidence. His giggling has yet to fade completely, so he bites his lip and takes deep breaths until it does, thinking with relief that he might’ve gone on forever.
“It wasn’t that funny,” Sirius says.
He’s perfectly correct, of course, and Remus really couldn’t explain what he’d found so amusing if he’d tried, but it doesn’t matter, so Remus decides to keep his mouth shut and closes his eyes instead of responding. The pillow is extremely soft and Sirius, his cold foot twitching against Remus’ ankle, lies less than an arm’s length away. Remus hides his smile in his pillowcase as his breathing slows. It’s difficult not to keep on grinning, and Remus blames his silliness on the sleep deprivation.
“So…do you think you can get to sleep yet?”
Remus sighs. He knows he can’t exactly fall asleep in Sirius’ bed, but he isn’t quite ready to face the cool, neat, unwelcoming sheets of his own. He’s much too comfortable to move. “I might be more awake than ever,” he lies. “Tell me something else.”
“Hmmm, okay…” Sirius mumbles.
Remus is perfectly content with the silence and could care less if Sirius has anything else to say or not – but Sirius Black and silence could never spend too much time around one another without severe damage being caused to one or both of them, and of course, it doesn’t last long. “Well, did you hear about Louis?”
“What about Louis?” Remus mumbles drowsily.
“He was caught in the third floor bathrooms with that Ravenclaw prefect, Benjamin, doing…” He pauses. “You know.”
“Doing what?”
“Having sex,” Sirius whispers with a kind of breathless excitement. Remus opens his eyes, but avoids looking at Sirius. “Oh,” he says. He doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say. He feels a bit ill.
“Don’t you get it? It’s…I mean…it’s kind of big news.”
Suddenly everything feels different; the calm inside of Remus is shaken. Logically, Remus knows that Sirius is just trying to be a good friend by sharing these things with him. But somehow Remus still feels exiled.
“Oh believe me, I get it, Sirius,” he sighs. He stares at his friend, trying to gauge his feelings. “Do you think it’s wrong?” he asks quietly. He’s not sure why, but there is some kind of unseen weight in the question, something lingering beneath the surface.
The question seems to have caught Sirius off guard. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and Remus breathing stops as he waits for him to answer. “No,” he says finally, “Never. I mean – whatever Louis wants – whatever – makes – him happy.”
This is a voice he has never heard before. Remus looks at him, noting the furrow in his brow, and something unsaid seems to pass between them. “Yes,” Remus agrees. The silence is uncomfortable, suddenly, and Remus swallows, shifting awkwardly in the sheets for a few moments before saying, “I think…I think I should go back to my bed now. Thank you Sirius,” he says, smiling half-heartedly at him, “You’ve been helpful.”
It sounds oddly formal and out-of-place, just like Sirius’ awkward, “See you tomorrow, then,” that follows him back to his own cold bed.
---
Sirius doesn’t like keeping secrets. In some ways, their childhoods were all too similar: both were shadowed by things unsaid, leaving gaping wounds of silence where laughter should’ve been. Now, they just deal with what they have left in different ways. Sirius is straightforward and reckless to the point of childishness, compensating for the childhood he never quite had. Remus is too old for his age, the boy in him locked away in cool logic. Sirius believes that everything should be kept out in the open, or at least to a couple of people. And even though Sirius says that he understands, that it’s perfectly alright with him if Remus dates another bloke, there’s something off about the looks he keeps giving him when he doesn’t know that Remus is watching. By living outside of the Marauders, Remus is breaking their code.
Remus has come to realize that some things are better left unsaid. When he comes back into the dorm at late hours and tells the three of him that he’s been studying with that boy from Ravenclaw again, only two will remain blissfully oblivious. He unintentionally catches Sirius’ eye, and there’s that look again, confusion with the slightest trace of what is it? – disappointment? – a question he can’t answer, and Remus bites his lip, turning away from his gaze. Later, when it’s just the two of them, Sirius will nod at him and smile cautiously, pointing out his disheveled appearance, fixing his tie without being asked. Remus should be grateful, but for some reason, he isn’t.
Remus doesn’t really know what he expects from Sirius, but it isn’t sympathy.
Maybe it’s just the knowledge that Sirius doesn’t truly know what it’s like. Jacob, on the other hand, has always understood that there are some things others shouldn’t know, things better left to dark corners and furtive whispers. He shares this with him. Somehow, Remus is starting to think that a common secret might be the wrong reason to be with someone, and he can’t pretend that he doesn’t want something more. But he’s learned to settle, and when he ends up settling for boys like Jacob – boys far, far out of his league – well, then he has nothing to complain about, then, does he?
It would be nice to be able to say that he’s happy with Jacob. In some ways, he is. Jacob sets a part of him free that his friends will never know, just as Jacob will never see the monster within him. But it’s all most complex than Remus ever wanted it to be, and he keeps finding himself wondering if it’s even worth it.
Jacob has had only one relationship before, and it was very different than the one with Remus. For one thing, it was open, and this is why it originally failed, straining them both until eventually (and whenever Jacob s mentions this, his voice loses all of its life) it just couldn’t work anymore. This, with Remus, is much easier, much simpler, and much less stressful. But the hasty meet-ups in corners at awkward hours quickly begin to merge together, and the empty feeling he’s left with afterward lingers a bit longer each time. They’re caught in a standstill, unable to move forward and too entrenched to go back. Then again, maybe Remus is just seeing things through his own twisted perspective.
They’ve been dating, technically, since before Christmas, and the weather is already warm when Jacob tells breathes three unfamiliar words into his neck, and Remus doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince. It isn’t that they don’t like each other, it’s that there’s something in between them, like they’re each trying to replace the other with someone else. Remus doesn’t repeat it, and as he fixes the buttons on his shirt, casually tries to change the subject to something which promises to be fairly boring and harmless: their weekend plans.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jacob says, “Probably just try to get some work time and spend time with Evan and them. You know, go get a drink or something.” Jacob keeps talking, but Remus is no longer listening. Mentioning Evan is no more than a cheap attempt to return some of the hurt Remus has obviously inflicted upon him, but the empty anger that rises up in Remus is so powerful and unexpected that he is left suffocating, gasping for air, and he leaves without a goodbye.
He finds Sirius in the common room playing chess with James, and it only takes a look from Remus for him to know to follow him up to the dormitory. Remus waits on Sirius’ bed while Sirius purposefully loses, wondering why it doesn’t work like this with Jacob.
Sirius sits beside him, Remus hesitates, staring at the floor while he tries desperately to find the words to describe where exactly things have gone wrong. He doesn’t know how to explain that he never thought of himself as someone idealistic, but this isn’t what he expected, and it might just not be what he wants.
“I don’t know,” he says in an unnecessary whisper. “I mean—he has an ex. I don’t…have any ex’s. I can’t compete. He…I don’t know. It’s awkward, around this other guy.” Remus’ voice sounds unfamiliar, and he can’t relate to his own words. This suddenly seems like a bad idea. “I’m so…fucking jealous I don’t know.” He swallows, and raises his eyes from his shoes to look at Sirius. It’s painful.
“Well, he’s with you, isn’t he?” Sirius points out with a kindness Remus isn’t sure he deserves. “Can’t still be too enamored of that other bloke.” Sirius shifts awkwardly. Romantic conversation is neither of their strong suits. Remus can’t help feeling like there’s something else Sirius wants to say.
Sirius sees everything in such a straightforward manner that after talking to him, everything should seem simple. But Sirius’ words only stir up doubts and widen the gap between them, forcing Remus to realize what he didn’t want to think about: he can’t believe that Jacob actually cares about him. And Remus doesn’t know how much cares about him either.
But somehow, despite the sleepless nights he spent worrying about it, the problem solves itself when whatever he has with Jacob ends just as quietly as it began. Jacob tugs on his sleeve on his way to Astronomy in a way that’s sickeningly reminiscent of all the times he was guided away for very different reasons, and they move to the boy’s bathroom. Remus has never been able to read Jacob all that well, but he knows what’s about to happen before Jacob even opens his mouth. Even their ending, Remus realizes, is uneventful and quiet. This isn’t going to work anymore, Jacob explains, sprinkling pleasantries into the words. You’ll always be special to me, but – I’m sorry, but –
Remus shakes his head, hearing only that Jacob still is not over Evan, that he’s finally agreed to take him back (Jacob doesn’t say either of these things, but Remus hears them). He apologizes and leaves Remus standing alone in the bathroom, his own reflection replacing the space Jacob occupied moments before. Remus turns on the water, pushing the faucet all the way to the right before moving his face towards the icy water. He is unable to face his own shame and tell Sirius what happened, unable to face him at all, and all at once it becomes uncomfortably apparent that Jacob has never really been what he wanted, that he’d just been looking for someone who wanted him, someone he had the slightest of a chance with. But he’s ruined even that.
Three weeks later Jacob leans across the Ravenclaw table to whisper something to Evan. They share a smile and stand up slowly, leaving the hall with their heads bent towards on another in quiet conversation. Remus finally manages to tear his gaze away from them, only to find Sirius staring at him with a look of wounded, pitying comprehension. Their eyes lock for less than half a second before Remus turns to his soup, doing his best to pretend that this is a perfectly typical lunch. Peter cheerfully asks if he could help him with his Defense homework after they eat, and Remus agrees with relief, hoping that this is a sign that at least things are back to normal.
---
Sirius will be nineteen in less than fifteen minutes, and Remus is slowly drowning in an ocean of sweat and noise. He might also a little tipsy – but then, who isn’t? This kind of place seems fitting for Sirius’ birthday, a seedy London pub filled by faceless drunk, sex-starved muggles who won’t recognize their faces in a few hours. They’re eighteen, and the novel of these things still hasn’t worn off. It’s strangely exhilarating, even though Remus isn’t dancing so much as standing in the centre of everything while the world sways around him. He’s lost the others somewhere in the crowd, and all he can feel is the music pulsing in his chest.
It’s getting difficult to breathe, and he needs to find James and Peter soon, because Sirius is only going to turn nineteen once – if they miss it, they’ll surely suffer the consequences later. Remus cranes his neck to see above the crowd, and just when he’s beginning to think they’ve all already left without him, he sees Sirius.
He’s standing a few feet away, motionless within the sea of movement, and when Remus takes a step towards him, the crowd shifts and they collide. He almost laughs, but then he meets Sirius’ eyes, and suddenly he feels his throat going dry. The words he planned are swallowed in the silence between them, and now there’s nothing to say at all.
He doesn’t quite know what’s happening – there’s a surreal, dreamlike quality to every movement made, a haziness surrounding everything that has to do with more than the alcohol. The room might as well be empty, and there is a question in Sirius’ eyes again – that question, the one Remus doesn’t know how to answer. He wants to tell Sirius that it’s alright, that nothing can hurt them, but Remus has never been able to lie to Sirius, and all he can do is stare. He hears nothing over the violent pounding of his heart, and he tilts his head as Sirius does, no longer aware of who is mimicking who.
They are completely alone, two boys on a ledge of something that seems much bigger than either of them. As Sirius tugs at his shoulder, Remus closes his eyes and leans forward, knowing there’ll be nothing there to break his fall. He still doesn’t know the question, but with Sirius, the answer is, and will always be, yes.
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no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 05:38 pm (UTC)So many lines I love! This: His recklessness is fresh and (nearly) limitless, and he’s still reeling with the beauty of it all, stamping out the last remains of guilty feelings and self-consciousness with unfamiliar, borrowed confidence. It says so much in just one line, Remus's character, and the feeling of drunknenness...lovely.
And the ending is just perfect :D I'm so wishing for a happy ending for them both! Beautiful fic!
no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 06:37 pm (UTC)I especially love the way that there is this connection between Remus and Sirius, even when they aren't together as a couple.
I am afraid I have not read the original fic, so will see if I can track it down.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 05:47 am (UTC)“Well, he’s with you, isn’t he?” Sirius points out with a kindness Remus isn’t sure he deserves. “Can’t still be too enamored of that other bloke.” Sirius shifts awkwardly. Romantic conversation is neither of their strong suits. Remus can’t help feeling like there’s something else Sirius wants to say.
I love your Sirius. So gentle and, oddly, sincere. That sincerity is something I see and imagine in Sirius, but it all to rare in fics.
Lovely!
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Date: 2008-12-28 06:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 04:08 pm (UTC)Really enjoyed this fic.
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Date: 2008-12-28 04:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 10:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-29 02:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-29 06:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-29 04:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-31 06:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-01 03:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 08:56 pm (UTC)And now: thank you so much for this lovely gift! Because of...well, the circumstances under which I wrote comme un grand trou, I never really knew Remus's side of things; I couldn't really; so it was enjoyable and interesting and so new to read his part. It's actually rather sad, how obvlivious they both were; even Remus, but I guess he couldn't know any better.
I loved the Jacob story, all the things Remus was experiencing with him that Sirius couldn't see, and how really they (R and J) were just two people who found each other accidentally while waiting for someone else, how sad that is yet...still worthy of being told, so that I just want to see more and more and more of them together.
The way the shape of the story changed with that relationship developed is also interesting: how Sirius moves more to the margins, a strong presence at the beginning and end and in the middle just appearing a few times, this presence you never see quite head on but you're always aware of. Perhaps how he was to Remus too.
My favorite line was "Remus waits on Sirius’ bed while Sirius purposefully loses, wondering why it doesn’t work like this with Jacob." It just seemed to sum them up so completely and shortly.
Thank you again for the gift!!