Part 3/3 -- rated PG13

"I'm going to tell him," Remus declared abruptly at breakfast a week later.

James nodded enthusiastically. "Good," he mumbled around a mouthful of heavily buttered toast. "'Bout time. Dunno why y'haven't."

Sirius said nothing, but stabbed angrily at his eggs with his fork. Stupid eggs. Stupid fork. Stupid sodding Ravenclaw. Remus hadn't spoken to him in a week, not a word since the last full moon when Sirius had stormed off in a snit. While James and Peter attributed his foul mood to his "just being Padfoot," Remus had ignored him altogether.

"Pads," asked James, "reckon we should keep an eye on them with the Cloak?"

Sirius grunted noncommittally.

"I hardly need a babysitter," Remus put in.

James shrugged. "Could get volatile, and what if it does?"

"What if it does?" Remus asked coolly. "I'm not an idiot, you know. I'll be fine. What did you think I did before you lot came around?"

"Tell who what?" Peter asked belatedly. Sirius rolled his eyes while James whispered in Peter's ear. "Oh," he added, flushing slightly pink. "That. When?"

"Today," Remus decided.

It was boring, being alone, and it was quite possibly the most boring afternoon that Sirius had ever experienced. He threw himself face down on the ground beside a small copse of stunted trees at the edge of the Black Lake, huffing angrily. It wasn't fair that James and Peter had buggered off to Hogsmeade without inviting him along; it wasn't fair that Remus preferred the company of some gormless Ravenclaw (with admittedly lovely eyes, his mind insisted).

Looking down, he caught sight of his reflection scowling at him from the dark water. Just as well, he thought angrily. You're not fit company anyway. And you look like a troll when you sulk.

Sirius rolled onto his back, slightly away from the water's edge, squinting against the bright spring sun. He wondered briefly if Remus had told the Ravenclaw his big secret. Stupid plonker probably knows a cure for lycanthropy, he thought miserably. Probably an animagus too. They'll go flouncing off into the moonlight together, and I'll be stuck alone in the Shack on full moon nights.

But it wasn't so much the full moon nights that rose to his mind, but the mornings after – mornings when the wolf in Remus manifested itself in rampant hormonal urges, and a desperate yearning for its packmates. And Sirius didn't want to think of a future without those mornings.

He was right, a small voice inside him whispered. You are jealous.

"Am not," Sirius muttered, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Am not."

You are, the voice insisted. Because you want him for yourself. Because…

"Because I love him," Sirius finished aloud, sitting up so sharply that he immediately tumbled backward into the lake.

Ignoring the pointing and giggling from a group of Third Year girls, Sirius stomped, dripping wet, through the Gryffindor common room and up towards the Sixth Year dorms. At least there he'd be able to sulk in peace – after he found dry clothes, of course. And a shower, he mused as he crossed the dorm. Maybe a lovely hot shower…

Halfway across the room he paused, brow furrowed. All the bedcurtains hung open and askance, save one set. So Remus closed them, Sirius told himself. He continued toward his own bed, stripping off his sodden clothes along the way.

"You were right," said Remus from behind the closed curtains.

Sirius whirled around, heart leaping. He was suddenly, acutely aware that he was rather naked. "You… you startled me," Sirius said, hurriedly pulling on a dry pair of trousers.

"Apparently I did," Remus replied. "Sorry."

"That's alright, really," Sirius said hastily. "I didn't know you were… I'll go; I don't want to interrupt… anything."

"Interrupt what?" Remus asked with a quiet sniff. He pulled the curtains partly aside and added flatly, "You were right about Gareth."

Right about…? Oh… Sirius sat gingerly next to Remus on the bed, trying not to notice either Remus' bloodshot eyes or the way his shirt had pulled out of his trousers, exposing a flat handsbreadth of pale skin.

"I'm really sorry," Sirius offered, and meant it. "What happened?"

Remus toyed with the edge of the blanket. "You know we went to Hogsmeade too, along with James and Peter, right? So they went off to Zonko's, and Gareth and I decided to stop in at the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer. Well, a bunch of his mates were in there. Sit down with us, they said. So, we did."

Sirius nodded impatiently. "And?"

"Turned out they'd been having some discussion about that bit that was in last week's Prophet," Remus continued. "The werewolf sighting down in Brighton, you remember? And Gareth said… he said…"

"Don't," Sirius said harshly. "Remus, you don't have to…"

"He said there wasn't any use having laws to govern them. That the Ministry should just exterminate them all."

Sirius made a harsh sound in his throat. "Oh, Moony," he said sorrowfully. "I really am sorry."

"And then," Remus said, as though Sirius wasn't even there, "he asked whether I agreed with him. And I said I never wanted to see him again, socially or otherwise. And then I came back here. The end."

They were quiet for a moment. Sirius didn't think there was much he could say after Remus' confession, except –

"I'll hex him!" Sirius burst out. "He won't be able to walk properly for months after I'm done with him!"

Remus shook his head. "Sirius, don't bother. He's not worth the trouble."

"No, really, I want to!"

"Sirius, no."

"Moony, how 'bout I just…"

"Shut it, Padfoot!"

And Sirius did shut up briefly, his mouth closing so fast that he nearly bit his tongue.

"You were right too," he said after a moment. "About me being jealous, I mean."

Remus said nothing.

"I didn't know myself," Sirius added. "How could I?"

"I knew," Remus muttered.

Sirius ran one hand through his hair. "So… What now? Can we… be us?"

"Maybe I don't want you," Remus said, leaning back into the pillows and closing his eyes. "Did you ever think of that? You're arrogant, aggravating, and you snore like a dying hippogriff."

"How d'you know what a dying hippogriff sounds like?"

Remus cracked open one eye. "How do I – what? That's not the point!"

"What is the point then?" Sirius shot back.

"The point is," Remus snapped, sitting upright again and glaring at Sirius, "that you're that bloody arrogant that you just assume that I want to be with you! How pigheaded can you be, Padfoot? I ask you!"

"Oh," Sirius said, abashed. "You don't, then. Want me, that is."

"I didn't say that!" Remus roared.

Sirius furrowed his brow. "Well, actually…"

"As a matter of fact, I do want you! Very much, in fact! But it would be bloody nice to be asked!"

Sirius chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip. "Let me ask you something, then," he said. "Do you know what I want?"

Remus shook his head. "A new racing broom?"

"Prat," Sirius said fondly. "Besides that."

"No, then, but I know you're dying to tell me."

Sirius leaned forward until his lips brushed up against Remus' mouth. "I like those mornings after the full moons," he confessed. "And I like spending the full moon with you. And I want that. And I want every day in between. With you. That's what I'm asking for."

"Don't ask for much, do you?" Remus said. "Know what I want?"

"What?"

"Nothing, now," Remus grinned, just before covering Sirius' mouth with his own. "I've got it."