"Five! Four! Three! Two! One! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Cheered the little group of people crowded around the television screen.

Frank gathered Alice close for a celebratory kiss. Maddy, too, kissed Peter ostentatiously. James eyed Lily hopefully. She laughed and gave him a quick hug, which he returned, beaming.

"Er - Happy New Year," said Sirius, flashing Remus an awkward smile.

"Happy New Year."

Sirius's eyes flickered to Remus's lips, and then quickly away. Remus took a half-step toward him, heart beating faster.

"We can if you want to," he offered. "For luck."

Sirius's eyes widened, and he took a step back. "Don't. Not if we're just going to be friends."

"OK. Sorry," said Remus, trying to push down the welling of disappointment in his chest. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

The revelers streamed past them into the hallway. Remus and Sirius followed. James pulled open the front door. A rush of cold air and the crackling sound of fireworks swirled in, accompanied by a flurry of snowflakes.

"Oh, wow!" breathed someone.

A thick blanket of snow covered the steps, the walkway, the street, and more was still coming down. The snow and the clouds glowed with the reflected light of the city.

Laughing, Lily and Alice ran down the steps to put their hands in the snow. Lily gathered up a handful and lobbed it at James, hitting him squarely in the chest. He looked surprised for and instant, then charged down the steps with a roar of mock outrage. Within seconds, nearly everyone was laughing and flinging snowballs at one another with their bare hands.

Remus hung back, watching. Sirius, too, lingered in the doorway. He shot Remus a sideways glance, looking as if he was trying to decide something.

"Look - do you want to go for a walk?" asked Remus.

Sirius hesitated, then nodded.

They retrieved their coats from the pegs by the door and bundled themselves up, pulling on their shoes, before hurrying through the no-man's-land between the two hastily-assembled factions in the yard, dodging a barrage of frozen projectiles from either direction.

Reaching the safety of the sidewalk, they slowed.

"Where d'you want to go?" Sirius asked.

Remus considered. "Gay City's not far from here, and I heard the coffee shop is staying open late tonight."

"OK."

They trudged through the falling snow for a minute, breath clouding in the cold air, before Remus said. "It seemed like maybe you wanted to talk. What's up?"

"Um. Yeah." Sirius kept his eyes fixed on the ground, gloved hands stuffed into his pockets. "I - the thing is - look, this being friends thing is harder than I thought."

Remus's stomach lurched with the sudden sensation of falling, and he stopped short. "W-what d'you mean?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

Sirius halted, too. "I'm not saying I can't do it. I'm just saying it might take me a while to really get there." Catching sight of the stricken look on Remus's face, he explained in a rush, "Don't get me wrong! I'm glad we talked about everything and got past all the hard stuff and we're spending time together again. I like spending time with you and talking to you and having you read to me. But it's like - even though you're right here, I miss you. I know that doesn't make any sense, but that's how it feels." He gave Remus a pleading look, silently begging for understanding.

"I get that," said Remus. "But we can't go back in time."

"I know. I'm not saying I'd trade what we have now for what we had before. I'm saying -" he took a deep breath, "- why can't we have this, and that, too? Unless you really don't want to ..."

I do, Remus thought desperately. But I'm afraid. What if you disappoint me? What if you decide I'm too much trouble?

He turned away and started walking again. Sirius hurried to catch up.

"If I said I didn't?" Remus asked cautiously.

Sirius looked wounded, but hid it quickly, rallying himself. "Then we'd just be friends, and I'd adjust to that eventually, if it meant you wouldn't run away from me again. But for now, I can't make myself stop thinking about what it was like, before."

Remus was silent for a moment. "I think about it, too," he admitted finally. "I'm glad we decided to try being friends. But when I'm with you - sometimes I want things I know I can't have."

"Why not?" asked Sirius.

Remus shook his head. "Because I can't be a good boyfriend right now. I have so much else going on, I can barely take care of myself. I can't be there for someone else. Not in a meaningful way."

"What if ..." Sirius began slowly. "What if it was someone who understood that you have a lot going on, and didn't have any expectations? Who just wanted to be with you, when you have the time?"

"That doesn't seem very fair to - that person." Remus balled up his fists in his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the cold and the gloom that oppressed him.

"Maybe that person is a grownup who can make his own choices," said Sirius pointedly.

"Sirius -" he stopped again, giving Sirius an anguished look. "Look at you. You're hot and well-read and empathetic and kind. You can do so much better than someone like me. What do I have to offer? Just a big mess and a lot of problems. You deserve better than that. You deserve to be with someone who can be there for you, and be supportive when you need it. Ninety percent of the time, I'm too exhausted to take care of myself, let alone anyone else."

Sirius stared at him. "You think you don't deserve someone who's supportive of you?"

"That's beside the point," Remus mumbled, shrugging uncomfortably.

"Not to me it isn't," said Sirius. "Remus, I don't need you to take care of me. I do all right on my own most of the time, and I've got James and his family and Pete. You don't have to be everything to me in order to be anything."

Remus gazed up at Sirius in frustration - the softness of his mouth, the expression of concern in his gray eyes, the snowflakes glittering in his hair - then turned away and started walking again.

"You don't understand how complicated this is for me," he said, when Sirius fell into step beside him.

"So tell me."

Remus shook his head. "It's not just that I have nothing to offer; there are things I would need from you. Things I know you couldn't promise."

"Like what?"

"Like - I'd still be a sex worker. That wouldn't just magically go away. I'd still be fucking other people on a regular basis. I would need you to not be weird or critical about it, or try to change me, or act like you know how to do my life better than I do. Your feelings about my choices can't take precedence over mine. I know you can't promise to feel a certain way, but I can't be with someone who is weird or gross about my life."

"I understand," said Sirius. "I wouldn't want to be with anyone who asked a lot of gory details about my transition, or tried to tell me I was doing my gender wrong. I know I can't promise to feel a certain way, but I'm willing to try. I know that stuff's none of my business. I wouldn't want you to feel like you have to pretend to be anyone other than who you are with me, though. I'd want you to feel like you could talk to me about anything."

"Thanks," said Remus awkwardly. "That's - I appreciate that. It's just hard to trust anyone that much, who hasn't been in my shoes."

They rounded a corner. The warm glow from the windows of Gay City spilled out onto the sidewalk ahead of them. The street around the coffee shop was filled with colorful Capitol Hill residents, half-sober or less, shouting New Year's greetings at one another. A few had found plastic saucer sleds, and were sliding around in the street, much to the merriment and consternation of people passing by.

It was warm inside the coffee shop, and every table was occupied, but the line at the counter was not long.

"You want something to drink?" asked Remus.

"I can get it," said Sirius quickly.

"Let me, this time," said Remus. "I can afford to spring for coffee every now and then."

"OK," said Sirius. "Make mine a hot cocoa, though."

Remus gave him a half-smile. "That sounds good. I think I'll make it two."

They got their drinks in paper to-go cups, but lingered for a moment in the warmth, leaning against the counter.

"Thanks," said Sirius, as Remus took a cautious sip of his own too-hot drink. "So ... where were we?"

Remus shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know if we're anywhere."

Sirius relented. "I'm sorry. Am I being pushy? I don't mean to pressure you. It just seems like you keep telling me all these reasons why you think this won't work, but none of those reasons have been that you don't want to. If you don't, just tell me. I can't say it won't hurt, but I'd rather you be honest with me than try to spare my feelings."

Remus looked at him, feeling miserable. How do you start trusting someone? he wondered.

"I just - I don't know," he said, frustrated. "I don't see how it wouldn't be a massively unbalanced dynamic. I saw at the gala - you live in this whole other world. You've got a rich adoptive family who love you. You own a spare fucking tuxedo. You can just give away a computer, like it's nothing. I only own one pair of shoes. My worldly possessions can fit in a couple of boxes."

Sirius frowned. "I know I've been lucky. I know I could have ended up where you are, or worse. I am so grateful to James's family for everything they've done for me. I could never repay everything I owe them. But - I can take that good fortune and pass a little of it on. I do get it, you know. I don't want to be reliant on the Potters forever. I want to prove that I can stand on my own two feet. But I don't want to cut myself off from them, either. Helping each other, and being able to admit when we need help - not cutting ourselves off from each other and try to go it alone - it makes the world a better, kinder place."

"I don't want charity," Remus mumbled. "Or pity."

"That's not what I'm offering," said Sirius. "I'm paying it forward. The Potters helped me, I can help you, and someday, you're going to help lots of people. I can't think of many things more worthwhile than that." He turned toward Remus, regarding him earnestly. "You're going to do great things someday, Remus. I really believe that. I've seen how hard you work. I've heard you talk about how much you want to help homeless kids. I want to see you succeed."

"I don't need a sugar daddy, either," said Remus uncomfortably.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Now you're just willfully misunderstanding me. This isn't about trading sex or companionship for -" He broke off, shaking his head. "Remus, I care about you. Whatever else happens between us, I'm offering a shoulder you can lean on when you need it, and a safe place to come in from the cold and rest, when it all gets to be too much. And yeah, maybe I do wish it could be more than that, but that part is up to you. You have my friendship and my support. That's not conditional on anything."

The bell rang behind the counter for last call.

"It's late," said Remus, grateful for the brief interruption to get his feelings back under control. "We should head back."

The snow was even deeper as they slogged back the way they had come, and still falling fast. The footprints of their outward trek had softened into little more than shallow, oblong depressions in a sea of white.

"Look," said Remus, trying to shore up his crumbling defences, "it's not that I don't want - or that I don't appreciate - I just - I have to make my own way, you know? I can't be dependent on someone else, no matter what their intentions."

Sirius shook his head. "How are you getting 'dependent' out of anything I said? Aren't friends supposed to help and support one another when things are tough?"

Remus looked down at his snow-covered shoes. "My parents were supposed to support me," he said quietly.

"Yeah, I know," said Sirius sympathetically. "Mine let me down, too. And nothing is ever going to make up for that. I know what it's like to have rejection issues. How hard it is to trust anyone after something like that."

"I ran out on you once," Remus pointed out. "What makes you think you can trust me?"

Sirius pressed his lips together. "I said there were no conditions on my friendship and support, and I meant that. But - if you ever wanted to be more than that, I do have a few conditions for that."

Remus glanced at him warily. "What would they be?"

Sirius stopped and turned toward him in a pool of lamplight, cheeks red with cold, snowflakes swirling around him. There was a touch of defiance in the angle of his chin.

"I would expect you to be honest with me. That you would respect me enough to tell me the truth, no matter what. That if you ever felt like running away again, you would at least talk to me about it first. That you would show me I matter to you."

"Of course you matter to me," said Remus, surprised. "You think I would have cared what you thought about me if you didn't?"

Sirius looked embarrassed but also slightly pleased. "Well, I guess that's something."

"I can be honest with you," Remus continued. "I have been, since - everything happened. But Sirius, I honestly don't know how this can work, or why you'd want it."

Sirius stepped closer, eyes fixed on Remus's. Remus held his breath. When Sirius's gloved fingers closed around his, Remus did not resist, or try to pull away.

"Remus, I want this," Sirius said softly. "I want to be with you. That's all that matters: what you want and what I want. So, what do you want?"

The tenderness in Sirius's expression was more than Remus could bear. He looked down at their linked hands instead.

"I want to be with you, too," he whispered. "But -"

"No 'buts'," said Sirius. "You've told me all the reasons why you think this can't work, and they all just sound like excuses not to try."

"I don't want to disappoint you," Remus admitted softly. "And I don't want you to disappoint me."

Sirius laced his fingers through Remus's and gave them a squeeze. "You think I'm not scared, too? But I'll be more disappointed if we don't try, than if we try and fail."

"You don't know that."

"I'm willing to take the risk, if you are. I promise I won't - I'll try not to hurt you. You've been hurt enough."

Remus could feel himself wavering, defences crumbling.

"Be with me," whispered Sirius. His other hand rose to cup Remus's cheek. "Just for the next sixty seconds. And if that goes all right, we can try for another minute after that."

Remus closed his eyes, tilting his head into the caress.

"I want to kiss you," Sirius murmured, close enough that Remus felt the warmth of his breath on his cold skin. "Not just as friends. Is that all right?"

Heart in his throat, feeling like he was standing at the edge of a precipice, Remus nodded.

Sirius's lips were soft and cool, hesitant at first, but when Remus tilted his face up, parting his own lips in response, Sirius's mouth was warm and eager.

The kiss lasted longer than sixty seconds, or even the minute after that. Remus was distantly aware of Sirius's arms around him, fingers slipping under his scarf to curve around the back of his neck, drawing him closer. Everything else fell away. Kissing Sirius felt good and right and Remus had missed it so, so much. How could he ever have denied himself this? And how could he even begin to deserve it?

When they broke apart, Remus had to remind himself to breathe.

"Everything OK?" Sirius murmured, sounding a little breathless himself.

Remus nodded, blinking his eyes open, trying to find his voice. "I-I think so."

Sirius's face split into a slow grin. "Glad to hear it. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year," echoed Remus, still feeling dazed. The kiss had left him more than a little unsteady. "You're sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," Sirius declared firmly. He slipped their linked hands into his coat pocket. "Will you be with me as long as it takes for us to walk back to my place?"

Remus bit back a smile. "I think I can promise that much."

Sirius returned the smile. "And will you kiss me like that again before tonight is over?"

"Yes," said Remus recklessly.

By the time they made it back to Sirius's apartment, the snow was halfway to their knees, and still falling. Most of the other guests had departed. Someone whose name Remus could not remember had fallen asleep on the sofa, a fleece University of Washington blanket carelessly draped over him.

They found Lily and James seated at the kitchen table, heads bent cozily together over a pair of wine glasses, talking and laughing in low voices.

"There you are!" said Lily. Her smile widened when she saw that Remus was holding Sirius's hand. "We wondered where you'd gotten to."

James eyed Remus with open skepticism. "We thought we were going to have to call out a search party."

"We just went for a walk," said Sirius grumpily.

"I take it it was a happy New Year," Lily said with a wink and a yawn. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Oh, wow," said James, looking at his phone. "It's almost two. Do you need a ride home?"

"It's still snowing, and the roads haven't been cleared," said Sirius. "It's not safe to drive anywhere."

"You can stay here," James told Lily immediately. "You can have my bed."

"I don't want to kick you out of your own bed," Lily objected.

"It's fine. I'll sleep on Sirius's hideous sofa."

"My sofa is not hideous," Sirius scowled. "It's a literary reference. Anyway, one of your Engineering buddies is already crashed out on it."

James was not deterred. "Then I'll sleep on the floor, then. Or in a chair. It's really not a big deal."

While their friends worked out sleeping arrangements, Remus stepped away to the kitchen window to watch the snow, still falling thick and fast past the streetlights. Sirius followed.

"You'll stay?" he said earnestly. "It'd be a long walk home in the snow, and who knows what kind of maniacs are out on the road tonight. I wouldn't feel right sending you out there alone."

"I'll manage," said Remus.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Don't be stupid. Why make things any harder on yourself than you have to?"

"I don't want to impose."

"You're not," said Sirius firmly. "You think I'm in any hurry to get rid of you tonight? Not on your life."

He stepped closer, hesitantly slipping an arm around Remus's waist, resting his chin on his shoulder.

"Stay," he murmured into Remus's ear. "I want to know you're safe."

Remus shivered.

"All right. I guess there's plenty of floor space. If I won't be in the way."

"You don't have to sleep on the floor, you know. I have a queen size bed."

The breath caught in Remus's throat. "Are you sure you're OK with that?"

"With you being safe and comfortable? Pretty sure I am."

Behind them, James cleared his throat. "You're staying, too?"

Remus and Sirius turned toward him.

"Yeah, I guess so," said Remus.

"Yeah, he is." Sirius sounded a touch defiant.

"OK," said James, eyes fixed on Sirius as if he were trying to send him telepathic messages. "Just - be careful, OK?"

Lily nudged him. "They'll be fine. Find me something to wear to bed?"

"Right," said James, flustered. "OK. Good night. If you need anything, you know where to find me."

Remus glanced up at Sirius, who was staring after James, blushing.

"Everything all right?"

Sirius shook himself. "Yeah. C'mon. I'll find you some pyjamas, and see if there's a spare toothbrush."

Remus changed in the bathroom, and brushed his teeth, chiding himself for feeling nervous about spending the night with Sirius.

When he returned to the bedroom, Sirius was sitting on the bed wearing an oversized teeshirt and flannel trousers, knees drawn up under his chin.

"I ... um ... I had to take my binder off. I can't sleep in it. I hope that's not too weird."

He looked so endearingly vulnerable that Remus immediately climbed up onto the bed beside him and kissed him.

"It's fine. Really. You should be comfortable in your own room."

Sirius still seemed tense, uncertain.

"Are you sure you're all right with this?" Remus asked. "I can still sleep on the floor."

"It's fine," said Sirius. "It's just - Look, I hope you didn't think, when I asked you to stay, that we would - that anything was going to ... happen."

Remus sat back on his heels. "Nothing has to happen, if you don't want it to. I'm not expecting anything."

Sirius looked relieved. "OK. Good. Because what I told you that day in periodicals - about waiting - that wasn't just me not being ready to come out to you. And it's not because of anything to do with you," he added quickly. "The whole idea of sex just kind of - freaks me out. After what happened with me and James -"

"I get it," said Remus. "It's fine. Really."

"I mean," Sirius continued rapidly, "I'm not saying I don't want to ever. Just that I'd have to really trust someone before I'd be willing to try it again. Not that I don't trust you; I'm just - not ready yet."

"No expectations," Remus promised, kissing him on the forehead.

Sirius's shoulders drooped in relief. "No expectations."

"So, now that that's all cleared up, bed?" Remus cocked his head.

"Bed," agreed Sirius.

He pulled back the covers and they climbed under them, settling down on the pillows facing each other. The glow of the snow and the sky through the blinds gave just enough light for Remus to see Sirius's face, inches from his own. Sirius found Remus's hands under the covers.

"So, you'll be with me until morning, at least?" he ventured shyly.

"I think I can manage a little longer than that," said Remus.

Sirius's eyebrows rose. The corner of his mouth curled up. "Afternoon, then?"

"How about if we take it one day at a time?" suggested Remus, giving Sirius's hands a squeeze.

"We're really doing this?" Sirius asked, face alight with hope.

"I think so," said Remus, wondering whether the feeling in his belly was excitement or fear.

"You really don't mind having a trans boyfriend with weird hangups about sex?"

When Remus hesitated for half a second, searching for the right words, Sirius bit his lip. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say 'boyfriend'. We don't have to label this yet, if you don't want to."

"'Boyfriend' is fine," Remus assured him. He raised Sirius's fingers to his lips and kissed them. "And I wouldn't change a thing about you. Not for the world."

Sirius smiled self-consciously. "You know, if you wanted to make out right now, I'd be OK with that. You did promise to kiss me again."

Remus shifted closer, nuzzling Sirius, enjoying the soft feel of Sirius's lips against his. Sirius sighed contentedly, his arm sliding around Remus's waist, under his teeshirt. Pulling Sirius close, Remus abandoned himself completely to the joy of kissing him.

"I'm glad I got to start the new year with the person I want to spend it with," Sirius murmured a few minutes later.

"Yeah." Remus's thumb stroked the edge of Sirius's palm. "I spent so much time telling myself I couldn't have anything like this."

"Well, you were wrong," said Sirius happily, leaning closer to nuzzle his neck.

Remus shivered. "I hope so."

Sirius pulled away, frowning. "What does that mean?"

"It means ... my life is what it is right now," Remus shrugged. "If you're doing this out of pity, or because you think you can save me, you might end up resenting me."

"I'm not, and I won't," said Sirius hotly.

"I don't know that. And neither do you."

"I'm not expecting this to be some kind of fairy tale, you know," said Sirius. "If there are problems, we'll talk about them. Figure them out together."

"You think you can be cool about what I do for a living?" Remus pressed pointedly. "It doesn't bother you?"

Sirius pressed his lips together, considering. "No, I don't think so," he said slowly. "It might take some getting used to. Just promise me you'll be careful. I don't want you getting hurt or into trouble."

Remus frowned. "I can't promise that. Sometimes things happen, if I read someone wrong. I need you to promise that when that happens - and it will, eventually - you won't make it about your feelings."

Sirius's jaw tightened. He nodded. "OK. I promise. You know you can always come here, if you ever need a safe place. That's not charity; I'm being selfish. I don't want to have to worry about you - whether you're OK, or you need help. Even if - if this doesn't work out. You're always safe with me."

"Thanks," said Remus, self-consciously. "So ... Lily and James seemed pretty cozy in the kitchen tonight."

Sirius grinned. "Yeah. He really likes her."

"You think he'll treat her well?" Remus asked.

Sirius's grin widened. "Who's protective now?"

Remus chuckled. "I'd be more worried about him than her, if he doesn't treat her right."

"He will," said Sirius confidently. "Trust me."

Remus gazed at him fondly for a moment. "I think maybe I do."

Sirius's grin faded into an expression of tenderness. "Come here."

He pulled Remus close, kissing him again. Remus relaxed into his arms with a sigh of contentment. It was better to enjoy something good while you had it, he decided, than to become so preoccupied with losing a good thing that you could never enjoy having it. He resolved to appreciate every moment with Sirius, and never take anything for granted.

Sirius drew back, a dreamy, thoughtful look on his face.

"What are you thinking about?" Remus asked sleepily.

"Pancakes," said Sirius. "For breakfast tomorrow. I need to fatten you up a bit."

Remus chuckled. "I wouldn't say 'no' to that. God, I can't remember the last time I had pancakes ..."

"Mmm, that settles it," said Sirius, kissing him on the nose. "And I'm going to keep making them until you can't possibly eat another bite."

"Challenge accepted," said Remus, twining his fingers in Sirius's silky hair and pulling him close for another slow, sleepy kiss.

"Happy New Year," Sirius murmured against his lips.

"Happy New Year," Remus echoed.

Sirius fell asleep with his head on Remus's shoulder, one arm slung across his chest. Remus watched him for a while as he snored softly.

"When did I get so lucky?" Remus whispered.

He was warm and comfortable and the prospect of pancakes loomed large in his future. But better than all of that was the incredible man curled up at his side, who had seen into the wilderness of Remus's life, and had offered him his trust and his heart, without reservation.

Moving carefully, Remus bent his head, and kissed Sirius gently on the forehead. Sirius stirred in his sleep, making a sleepy murmuring sound of contentment, and nuzzled closer against Remus's shoulder.

Remus smiled and closed his eyes, feeling a glimmering in his chest of something that he thought might be happiness. Perhaps this would be a good year.