Archive of Our Own ^beta

Remus is lying in the grass in the park, laughing with Lily about something their maths teacher said last week when his TiMER lets out a low, long beep. He blinks slowly and sits up, for a moment unsure that the noise is even coming from him.

“What is it?” Lily asks.

The second that Remus lifts his sleeve and stares at his wrist, everything changes. His chest tightens, and his fingers dig into the ground as he attempts to steady himself. The murmur of the parkgoers is replaced by a ringing in his ears, and it takes him a minute to catch his breath.

Lily’s hand on his shoulder startles him, and he jumps and looks at her with wide, panicked eyes. “Remus, you’re scaring me,” she says.

“My TiMER.” He shows her his wrist, and her face blanches in horror. “It’s gone blank.”

★ ★ ★

Graduating from secondary school and heading off to uni feels like a relief. Remus takes his TiMER off the summer before he leaves. He’s tired of the pitying looks from others. After all, if his TiMER has gone blank at sixteen, it’s almost guaranteed to mean that his soulmate has died.

He had been so close—two years away from meeting whoever it was. His and Lily’s TiMERs had been separated by mere days. They always joked that their friendship had been predetermined, and that was yet another sign of how similar they were.

He makes Lily promise not to tell anyone that his TiMER had gone blank. “I want a fresh start,” he says. “I’m going to tell them that I chose to take it off.” Remus can see Lily’s hesitation. She presses her lips tightly together, and her brow furrows, but she nods.

“If that’ll help,” she says.

“It will.” Remus smiles at her, and her face softens.

His flatmate, Peter, is studying Environmental Science and has a keen interest in entomology. “I promise not to get a pet tarantula,” Peter says. Despite the shyness to his tone, it’s clearly meant to be a joke, and Remus laughs. Peter’s face immediately brightens, and he grins back.

They talk about their experiences growing up as they unpack and the novelty of being away from home. They’ve nearly finished when Peter broaches the subject of the TiMER, lamenting that he has another sixteen years before he’s set to meet his soulmate. “What about you?”

Remus falters as his lamp slips a little in his hand. He quickly sets it down and keeps his back facing away from Peter as he answers, trying to compose himself.

“I got mine removed,” he says, and he hopes that Peter can’t hear the tightness in his voice. His heart pounds in his ears, and he takes a steadying breath before turning around.

“Why on earth would you do that?” Peter asks. He stops what he’s doing as he gapes at Remus.

As best as he can, he lifts his chin defiantly and does his best to look as if he’s uninterested in the topic. “I’m not into the idea of a predetermined fate. I mean, who’s to say we only have one soulmate? Why shouldn’t we get a choice in it.”

Peter’s eyes widen, and his jaw goes slack, and Remus is certain that despite the incredulous look on his face, there’s something bordering on admiration in his expression as well. “You really think that?” Peter asks, his voice a whisper.

“People fall in love all the time while they’re waiting for their soulmate. Maybe the only reason those relationships don’t stand a chance is because everybody just assumes they’re going to fail because the TiMER says so.” His voice sounds oddly assured, even to himself, and it’s enough to allow him to stand straighter. “I don’t want a piece of technology determining my whole life path. I want to be able to be with the person I want.”

For a moment, the words feel curiously liberating, but then Peter’s eyes get cloudy again—lost in thought—and he can feel it slipping away. “I wish I could be that brave,” Peter says. “But there’s something reassuring about knowing that there’s a relationship you can’t fuck up. Someone who’s sure to like you.”

It’s not quite that simple, and if he had a TiMER, Remus knows that he’d push back. After all, a soulmate isn’t a guarantee for life. It’s a promise that this person is as compatible with you as a person can be. There’s always room for human error.

He doesn’t have that guarantee anymore for compatibility, and the thought of relying on his own instincts terrifies him. Besides, he’s certain that no one with a TiMER would forsake the possibility of happiness in the name of free will—as vague as that is.

Remus shrugs and does his best to look bored by the topic, hoping that will nudge Peter to change topics. “I guess.”

Peter bites his lip and looks at what remains for them to unpack. “Want to grab a bite to eat before we finish up?”

Remus sighs, relieved. “Sounds great.”

★ ★ ★

Lily’s TiMER goes off two months after the start of the semester at a cafe. “My coffee went cold,” she says to Remus as they sit in the quad, their books for Topics in Medieval Latin Literature sprawled out in front of them, untouched. “I was staring at my wrist, watching the TiMER count down. He walked in, and they both started to go off. Honestly, he’s nothing like I imagined him.” She frowns slightly as she thinks back. “He seems a bit arrogant. But we’re going to talk more tonight. He had to run to class. It was awful timing, really.”

“Tell me more about him,” Remus says.

Lily glances around them before leaning in and asking in a hushed whisper, “Are you sure? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“You met your soulmate today, Lily,” Remus rolls his eyes. “I’d be a prick not to want to hear about it.”

She narrows her eyes, but Remus meets her gaze openly. She lets out a small hum, satisfied that Remus isn’t lying for her benefit, and continues. “He told me his full name—James Potter. Let me see if I can find him.” It takes her less than three minutes on her phone before she lets out a triumphant ha.

The Facebook profile photo has two men in it. The one closer to the camera has short, messy black hair, glasses, and a red Liverpool jersey. He laughs, visibly drunk. The other looks purposefully disinterested, cigarette dangling from his lips as he throws up his middle finger at the person behind the camera. Despite the try-hard air that the other man exudes, Remus can’t help but stare.

He blinks, shaking himself out of it and hands the phone back to Lily. “Which one is he?”

“Oh, right. James is the one in the Liverpool jersey. The other one’s his flatmate, Sirius—I think. He was with James when I met him.” She taps on the photo and nods. “Yeah, he’s tagged in this. Sirius Black.”

Remus files that information for later and focuses back on James. “He’s cute.”

Lily looks back down at the phone. “He is, isn’t he?” When she sets down her phone, Remus can tell her mind is elsewhere, and he closes the textbook in front of him, certain that there is no chance of getting work done until Lily leaves. “I barely asked him anything about himself before he had to run off. He said that he hadn’t even realized that his TiMER was supposed to go off then, but I feel like he was just saying that because he didn’t want to seem too eager. Isn’t that odd? Why would he think that makes him look cool?”

Remus laughs. “Sounds like you’re going to have your hands full with this one.”

★ ★ ★

Remus counts down the days to when his TiMER is supposed to go off. He has the date memorized two years later, and the closer it gets, the heavier the feeling on his chest is. He’s thankful that it’s on a Saturday and is even more grateful when Peter announces that he’s going home for the weekend to visit his parents.

He skips class on Thursday and Friday, and if Peter notices, he doesn’t ask. Instead, he opts to stay in their dorm. He can hardly bear the thought of interacting with other people and ignores Lily’s calls and texts until Friday night.

Lily (19:06)
If you don’t text me back, I’m finding a way to break in.

Remus (19:08)
I’m fine. I’ve just been sick. Flu or something.

It’s a bad lie, and he knows it, but Lily doesn’t call him on his bluff.

Lily (19:11)
Fuck soulmates anyway. James keeps trying to woo me in weird ways. He’s half a step away from showing up on the quad with his guitar and playing Wonderwall.

The text makes Remus laugh, and he pulls himself up off of the couch in their room and looks at himself in the mirror. The bags under his eyes look like bruises, and his hair is tangled nest on top of his head from not showering. He runs his fingers through it, wincing when they catch.

Lily (19:14)
Maybe your soulmate also removed their TiMER.

It’s a possibility they’ve discussed before, but it seems unlikely. Besides, without a TiMER to guide him, any person he passes tomorrow could potentially be it. He could pass them by without realizing, neither the wiser. The thought makes him shrink into himself.

Remus (19:16)
I think I’m going to stay inside tomorrow. If you’re right, it won’t matter. I’ll meet them one way or another.

Lily (19:20)
Can I hang out with you? I have a date with James in the evening, but I just hate the thought of you moping around. We can watch Golden Girls, and I’ll bring the 🍃.

Remus (19:24)
Well, that’s practically cheating, but fine. You win.

With Lily there, the day would go by faster. Besides, he’s been meaning to hear about how Lily’s date with James went on Wednesday. Remus smiles tiredly and looks around the room. If nothing else, Remus tells himself that this will be a good excuse to force himself to clean up and shower.

★ ★ ★

Lily sighs before reaching over to the bowl of popcorn and tossing a few kernels into her mouth. “I feel like I definitely have to go support him at his races. I still can’t believe he rows.” As much as she’s acting like it’s a chore, Remus is certain that when the times comes, she’ll get wrapped up into the race. He’s seen it before during football matches that come on when they’re at the pub.

“You already seem a little softer on him than you did earlier this week,” Remus comments, and Lily’s cheeks turn slightly pink, and she tucks her hair behind her ear as she purses her lips and thinks.

“There are moments when he stops making an endless stream of jokes and just slows down, and it feels like we’re getting somewhere,” she says. “He told me more about his family. He’s really close with them. We stayed up until three the other day just talking.” A small smile tugs up on Lily’s lips, but before she can say more, she waves her hand dismissively. “Anyway, do you want to roll up and get back to the episode?”

Remus knows that she’s holding back for his sake, but the stubborn look behind her eyes lets him know that he’s not going to get much more out of her today. Before he can respond, however, her phone vibrates.

Her brow furrows, and she chews on her lower lip. “Everything okay?” Remus asks.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” She sets it down and looks at Remus. “James wants to stop by and meet you before our date. I was just going to tell him that it’s a bad time and some other day, so you don’t have—”

“No, I’d like that,” Remus says, surprising even himself.

“Are you sure?”

“You’re giving me crumbs here. Honestly, I can’t believe I haven’t met the guy yet.”

“He won’t be here for another hour or so. You don’t have to say yes.” Her eyes search Remus’s face, trying to find some sort of confirmation that this won’t send him spiraling again, and he reaches out and places a hand on her forearm and squeezes.

“Lils, yesterday, I couldn’t imagine getting through the day. I have been dreading this day for two fucking years. But it’s here, and the world didn’t end.” His eyes burn, and he pauses to take a steadying breath. Lily squeezes his forearm back and offers a reassuring smile. “I still feel like shit, but if you’ve met the guy you’re probably going to spend the rest of your life with, I want to know him.”

Lily tosses her arms around Remus, and Remus feels his resolve crumble. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, and when he starts to shake, her hands tighten around him until he can barely breathe. They sit there like that for minutes, saying nothing. Remus cries until he feels depleted. “It’s not fucking fair,” he chokes out and hangs limply against her as she rocks him.

“I know.”

When they pull apart, he excuses himself and steps over to the sink. He splashes the water on his face and stares at himself at the mirror above the sink—eyes puffy and red and splotchy cheeks. For a moment, he doesn’t feel present in his own body. He stares, oddly disconnected from the person that stares back.

“You okay?” Lily’s voice jars him, and he blinks several times as he settles back into himself.

“Fine,” he says. He wipes his face with a towel and moves back over to sit next to Lily. “Need help rolling up?”

“Between the two of us, you know I’m better at it, right?” She grins and nudges his shoulder, and Remus goes with it.

Forty minutes later, they’re floating when there’s a knock on the door. They startle, and Lily checks her phone. “It’s James. He called me ten minutes ago.” The look at each other and burst out laughing.

Remus stands up and smooths down his shirt before opening the door to his dorm room. Next to James is the boy from the profile photo—Sirius. Remus swallows, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth is—from the weed, no doubt—and steps to the side. Over his shoulder, Lily spots Sirius as well and groans.

“Don’t worry,” Sirius says, though his eyes don’t leave Remus’s face. “I’m not crashing your date, Evans. I just came here to meet your famous hermit friend, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“I’m not a hermit,” Remus says and flushes.

“We’ll see about that.” He winks as he brushes past James and steps into the apartment.

Only then does it hit Remus that he’s yet to introduce himself to James. He sticks his hand out, and James laughs. “Sorry, I probably should invite you in or something,” he says, aware of the bemused look on James’s face.

James shakes his hand and steps in as well. “You can smell what you two are up to down the hall. No need to apologize.” He turns to look at Lily. “Didn’t know you were such a rulebreaker.” There’s a thrilled edge to his voice, and Remus glances away from them to give them privacy.

He settles on Sirius, who seems to be too busy looking around the dorm room to notice. He’s wearing all-black—a tight black shirt that hugs his shoulders. Any self-restraint he might have otherwise had has disappeared in the fog from the weed, and Lily’s text from yesterday flashes in his head.

Maybe your soulmate also removed their TiMER.

His eyes drop down to Sirius’s wrist, and his chest tightens. The TiMER is clearly visible on his right wrist. He does his best to ignore the growing ball of disappointment in his stomach and turns his attention back to James and Lily.

Despite her put-on attempts to look blasé, Lily leans forward, eyes fixed on James. Remus knows her well enough to know when she’s biting back a smile. She remains oblivious to the fact that they’re being watched—enthralled in her conversation with James—until Sirius speaks.

“Why do you have this?”

They all turn to look. He’s holding a glass globe with a large, metallic beetle suspended in the middle. His fingers tighten around the glass, and when his hand flexes, Remus feels his heart speed up.

“My flatmate is interested in insects,” Remus says and rubs the back of his neck. “He told me the name, but I don’t really remember.”

“I guess it’s better than an ant farm,” James says. “Those things creep me out. I mean, what if the glass shatters? Then you just have hundreds of ants everywhere.” He automatically scratches his arm.

“It’s kind of cool,” Sirius says. He looks at it for another moment before setting it down carefully back on its stand. “So, he’s the bug guy. What are you interested in?”

“Nothing too interesting.”

Lily scoffs from the couch. “You don’t need to pretend to be modest, Remus.” When Remus says nothing, she continues. “Remus is getting a joint honours degree in Astrophysics and Classics."

“Wow, Lily told me you were smart, but she didn’t tell me you were a fucking genius.” James lets out a low whistle.

Remus laughs and feels heat crawl up from his neck to his cheeks. “It’s not nearly as interesting as it sounds.”

“Why both of those?” Sirius asks from behind him.

“I think it’s interesting to see how other civilizations saw and responded to the world around them—how they tried to make sense of it. I’m especially interested in mythologies and how they create meaning in the unknowable. Sometimes it feels like we’re doing that with the universe too.” He wonders whether the answer is too much and chuckles awkwardly. “Or maybe that all sounds really pretentious.”

James shakes his head. “Hey, if you got it all figured out, more power to you.”

“Plus, I think it was a little predestined when your parents called you Remus,” Sirius adds.

Remus glances at Sirius over his shoulder, but Sirius is already looking elsewhere around the room, flipping through Peter’s DVD collection. “What about you?” he asks James.

“If we’re talking about uni, then Psychology, but I also row.”

Remus bites back a smirk when Lily’s eyes meet his. “Lily’s mentioned you’re on the team.”

James visibly puffs up and grins at Lily. “Did she?”

“Something like that,” Lily says. “You have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Just wait until you go punting with him,” Sirius says. “He’ll find a way to make it competitive. He always does.”

James scowls. “Well, on that note, we’re going to head off.” He turns and looks at Lily. “If you’re ready?”

She stands up and grabs her backpack. “I think I’m good to go.” It takes her a minute to make sure that she’s not leaving anything behind, and then she steps over Remus and pulls him into a tight hug. “You gonna be okay?” she asks, voice low so that only Remus can here.

Remus nods against her before whispering back, “Thank you.” She squeezes tighter before dropping her arms and giving him one last reassuring look. The knowledge that he will alone again hits him, and Remus swallows thickly and hopes his face doesn’t betray the growing gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“It was great to meet you,” James says as he steps forward. He throws open both arms for a hug. “Is that okay? I feel like we’re going to be good friends.” The way he says it, so matter-of-fact, makes Remus believe him, and he steps forward into the hug.

“It was great to meet you too,” he says.

James grins and looks over at Sirius. “You headed back, mate?”

Sirius glances over at Remus for a moment. “Mind if I stay a little longer? You can feel free to say no and kick me out if I’m overstepping,” he says.

Remus shakes his head as a feeling of relief washes over him. His thoughts haven’t been kind to him lately, and he’ll take the excuse to delay sitting alone with them again. “Not at all.”

“Well, you two enjoy,” James says, and with one final wave from Lily, they leave, door shutting behind them.

“Not that I mind, but why?” Remus asks. “You look like someone who has places to be on a Saturday night.” With that, he navigates himself back over to the couch and sits down.

Sirius laughs, loud and unrestrained. “Well, I’m more of a social smoker,” he says, pulling out a Ziploc bag from his back pocket. “And I saw you were watching Golden Girls, and if you add some butter chicken in there, it doesn’t sound like a half-bad way to spend a Saturday night.” He pauses, and his eyes narrow slightly as he considers his next words. After a few seconds, he adds, “Plus, not to be presumptuous, but you look like you could use a friend right now.”

It’s unnervingly perceptive considering that Sirius has spent the last fifteen minutes flipping through objects around the room. Before he can respond, however, Sirius sits down next to him and pulls out his phone.

“There’s a great Indian place around here that delivers. My treat if you roll up.” He tosses Remus the bag without looking up, and Remus smiles. By the time he has a workable joint, Sirius has ordered them food and has scrolled through the list of episodes to find one he likes.

“So, what are you studying?” Remus asks as he hands it Sirius along with a lighter.

“Literature, with a focus on creative writing.”

“Any particular time period?” he asks, but he shakes his head when Sirius opens his mouth. “Wait, I bet I can guess what kind of literature you’re interested in.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “You haven’t even known me for an hour, and you think you have me pinned down? Tell me, what do you think I’m into?”

“Gothic literature. Maybe Oscar Wilde too.”

The silence tells him that he’s guessed right. For the first time, Remus senses a crack in the unmoved, pristine image Sirius has put together. Nonetheless, Sirius manages to compose himself and straightens his back, though his cheeks remain flushed. “I’m keeping my eye on you, Lupin.”

“Picture of Dorian Gray?” Remus asks, and Sirius’s scowl deepens. “Oh, I’m too good.”

“It’s a great book!”

“Oh, I agree. One of my favorites too.” At that, Sirius’s face brightens, and he tilts his head as he takes in Remus. Remus waits for the comment, but it never comes. Instead, Sirius hits play on the episode and moves, almost imperceptibly, closer to Remus as he lights up the joint.

★ ★ ★

It’s pouring rain when it hits midnight. James lets out a loud whoop and pulls Lily into a hug, spinning her around in a circle. Remus clinks his bottle with Peter and Sirius’s, and they down their drinks.

“Happy New Year,” Peter says as he holds a hand above his head, as if to block out the rain. He frowns and squares his shoulders.

“You want to go back in?” Remus asks, and Peter, after looking around guiltily, nods.

“We’re going to head back in and dry off,” Remus says to James and Lily. Lily pushes against James’s chest and pulls back from kissing him to give Remus a sheepish grin.

“Happy Near Year, Remus,” she says, and Remus steps forward to give her a hug, ignoring the huff he earns from James.

“Mind if I join you?” Sirius asks.

“Not at all,” Remus says. He hugs James as well, as does Sirius, and they make their way off towards campus.

“It’s cold,” Peter says after a moment. Remus meets Sirius’s eyes and bites back a laugh. He’s not wrong. Remus can hardly feel his toes, and his coat will take days to dry. But he can’t find it in himself to care.

“If you complain now you’re going to bring yourself bad luck for the whole year,” Sirius says, and Peter scowls.

“Next year, I hope we watch the countdown on the telly.”

“Aren’t you a bundle of fun?” Remus wraps an arm around Peter as the walk. “We’re almost there anyway.”

Soon enough, they make it back. The campus is mostly empty and eerily quiet, and they manage to make it upstairs without running into anyone. They stumble into their room, and Remus lets out a satisfied groan as soon as he walks into their room and is hit in the face with a wave of heat. Before Remus has had a chance to hang up his coat and place his shoes in a corner, Peter disappears to change.

“So, do we think James and Lily are going to turn to giant ice sculptures glued at the face?” Sirius asks.

Remus laughs as he grabs two sets of clothes. “Here.” He hands Sirius a set, and Sirius gives him a warm smile. “The joggers might be a little long, but they should work.”

“Thanks.” Without missing a beat, Sirius turns and pulls his shirt off. From this angle, Remus can only see the profile of his face, hair stuck to it. He does his best not to stare, but his eyes drift lower to his shoulders and his back, watching the way they move as Sirius grabs the dry shirt and starts to put it on.

“I’m going to go take a quick shower if that’s okay,” Remus says, pulling his eyes away before Sirius starts to change his pants.

“Take your time,” Sirius calls back to him.

Remus stands under the water until he can feel himself thaw out but makes quick work cleaning himself and washing his hair. Every time he closes his eyes, he can picture Sirius standing drenched in his room, and he swallows thickly, trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

By the time he makes it back—no more than fifteen minutes later—Sirius presses his finger to his lips and points over at Peter, fast asleep on his bed. He grabs them each a hoodie and a beer from the minifridge, and they move to the hallway.

They walk over to the stairs and sit down. They sit, bodies half-turned and legs pressed up against each other in the narrow space, yet Remus feels oddly comfortable despite it. Sirius uses his lighter to open both bottles and leans back. “So, dare I ask—any resolutions this year?”

Remus laughs. “Fuck, I hadn’t even considered.” He shakes his head. “Get back to me in a few days.”

“That’s not how resolutions work,” Sirius says and takes a swig from his beer.

“I didn’t know you were the expert.” Remus wraps both hands around the bottle and leans his head back. “What about you?”

“Finish writing a book I’ve been working on,” Sirius says immediately. “I’ve been working on it for years. I always mean to, but you know how those things are.” He shrugs. “Maybe reconnect with my brother, but that’s another conversation. Other than that, have more fun. Sleep less. Drink more.” It’s a clear deflection away from earnestness, but Remus grants it to him.

“I’m sure you’ll finish it,” is all he says.

Silence falls between them for a minute, and Sirius clears his throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What’s the deal with your TiMER? I asked Lily once, and she said it was none of my fucking business, and then when I asked Peter, he said you were making some sort of statement.” Remus startles, surprised that it’s never come up with Sirius before. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Sirius says.

“No, that’s not it. I guess I just assumed we talked about it at some point.” He takes a long drink from his beer and considers telling Sirius the truth.

“Peter said it was something about free choice.

Or not. Remus hopes his smile doesn’t look as strained as it feels. “Something like that,” he says and takes another sip to stall, ignoring the dip in his stomach. The last thing he wants is for Sirius to look at him differently.

“You’re really going for an air of mystery, aren’t you?”

Remus chuckles. The story comes to him naturally now. He’s perfected the art of telling it—not too impassioned or detailed but not too detached either. “I took it off when I turned eighteen. I decided I didn’t want someone else to tell me how I should live my life. So many people’s lives don’t begin until their TiMER beeps. I don’t want that.”

 “Tell me more.”

“It’s just—why should the cosmic powers that be get to decide who you end up with? How is that fair? Maybe you can have a shot at really loving someone else, and maybe it’ll be imperfect, but you chose it, and isn’t that better?” The breath knocks out of him, and he feels his eyes water. It hasn’t felt fair for two years now, he wants to tell Sirius.

No one wants to give up on their soulmate. In the end, after all the short-term relationships are over, all it leaves him with are the other people who have also had their destiny taken from them. That’s doesn’t feel like a choice. It feels like surviving.

Sirius tilts his head and stares at Remus, his expression inscrutable. “Huh.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Remus squeezes one hand into a fist in his lap, and a wave of anger hits him. “Huh.” He repeats Sirius, his tone sharp and hard.

Sirius’s expression doesn’t change. “It just doesn’t seem like you.”

“What does that mean?”

“I think you believe everything you’re saying. Hell, I do too. You just don’t seem like you’d be the type of person who’d take off your TiMER as a matter of principle.”

Remus is about to confess when they hear voices near the bottom of the staircase. They both scramble to get up and step out of the way as two other men walk past them. “Happy New Year,” one of them says.

“Happy New Year,” Sirius says and waves. As soon as they pass, he turns to face Remus again. “That was rude. I don’t know why I’m questioning you. I believe that you removed it out of choice. I guess I just—” He shakes his head. “Sorry.”

When he nudges Remus’s arm with his shoulder, Remus sucks in a sharp breath and tries to discern whether the feeling in the pit of his stomach is relief or disappointment.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, and they settle back down and continue to drink.

★ ★ ★

They decide to celebrate their move off-campus their second year with a marathon of Lord of the Rings. They don’t get started until late in the afternoon, and by one in the morning, they are nearly halfway through The Return of the King.

“I’m pausing this so I can grab some snacks,” Sirius says and picks up the remote.

“You’re disrespecting the scene!” Peter says and leans back in his spot on the couch. “C’mon.”

“Anybody need anything?” Sirius glances around the room, purposefully skipping Peter.

“I’ll take some more Jaffa Cakes if you have them,” James says.

“Have any more Jammie Dodgers?” Lily asks.

Remus stands up automatically. “Let me help you.” They walk quietly to the kitchen, and Remus leans against the doorframe as his eyes drift shut. “I’m so tired from unpacking. All I want to do is sleep. If I didn’t think Peter would kill us, I’d see if we could finish the movie tomorrow.”

“You want tea?”

Although it sounds appealing, Remus knows it’s too late for a coffee. With a sigh, he concedes. “Tea sounds great.”

“Let me see if anybody else wants any.”

Remus closes his eyes. Sirius’s footsteps pass right by him, followed by the muffled, distant sounds of conversation. He’s started to drift when Sirius sets a hand on his shoulder. “M’ awake,” Remus says, though he doesn’t open his eyes.

“No cream one sugar?” Sirius asks, and Remus nods.

“How’s Benjy?”

“I have no clue. We broke up yesterday.”

It’s enough to jar Remus to open his eyes. He straightens his back and clears his throat before asking anything. “What happened?”

“I mean, obviously we’re not soulmates,” Sirius says, waving the active TiMER on his wrist. “But also, it just felt like more of a summer thing.” He shrugs. “He didn’t seem particularly devastated either."

“So, he was a little devastated?”

Sirius grins. “He also seemed to be bored with it. Is that better, you pedant?”

“Much, thanks,” Remus teases back.

“Well, you certainly seem less likely to pass out now than you did three minutes ago.” Remus winces, but Sirius laughs before he can apologize. “It’s not a knock.”

There’s a glint in Sirius’s eye, and it’s enough to pull him out of any remaining drowsiness. His breath quickens, and he peels himself off of the doorframe and takes a step towards Sirius. Sirius does nothing to stop him, and it’s all the encouragement Remus needs. He closes the gap with one more step and cups Sirius’s cheek in his hands.

Sirius’s fingers close around his shirt in a tight fist, and Remus sighs against Sirius’s mouth, his lips falling open. It’s the only invitation that Sirius needs to deepen the kiss, and he worries Remus’s lower lip between his teeth and pulls Remus close until they’re flush against each other. His heart beats in his throat, so hard that Remus is certain that Sirius must feel it in their kiss. Although his hands are shaking, he drops one to the back of Sirius’s neck, and his thumb runs up along his hairline. When Sirius shivers, Remus feels dizzy.

“Hey guys,” James calls out, his voice alarmingly close. They pull apart just as James rounds the corner. “I changed my mind. I want tea too.” If James notices anything, he hides it remarkably well. He moves past them and grabs the Jaffa Cakes and Jammie Dodgers off of the counter. “Getting peckish,” he says as an explanation and disappears again.

Remus finally takes the deep, shaky breath he’s been holding been, and he grip the counter behind him until he’s sure his knuckles turn white. When Sirius doesn’t meet his eyes, Remus’s stomach drops. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have,” he says, and Sirius’s head snaps up.

“Are you kidding? You didn’t do anything.” Despite himself, Remus’s gaze moves up when Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

If neither wants to apologize, Remus wants to ask what’s wrong about it. But the tea kettle clicks as the water finishes boiling, and the wave of exhaustion that hits him again reminds him that perhaps his judgment isn’t as sound as it should be for something he can’t take back. After a moment, Sirius nods, and Remus wonders whether the disappointed look he sees in Sirius eyes is just wishful thinking.

★ ★ ★

Remus stumbles his way into dating Edgar Bones in his third year. Although he’s also completing a Classics degree, they haven’t had a class together since their first year. After a month of striking up a conversation before the start of each Travelers to Byzantium class, Remus asks him out.

He’s not the first person that Remus has hooked up with. That title goes to Mary Macdonald when he was seventeen. But Edgar is the first person he dates.

Edgar doesn’t have a TiMER on his wrist. His family doesn’t believe in forcing it upon them—believes it should be a choice. Everyone in his family is given the option to implant one once they turn eighteen. “I didn’t see the need to get one by then,” he explains with a small shrug. “So much of the soulmate thing feels like a frame of mind. My parents didn’t have them, and they’re happier than some couples who found each other with their TiMERS.”

Dating Edgar feels familiar right away. They get caught up in long conversations about why Anne Carson’s If Not, Winter is the best translation of Sappho at one in the morning. And when Edgar shows him his prized possession—both volumes of The Atlas of Ancient Rome—they spend the next four hours leafing through maps and relating it to things they’ve discussed in other classes.

“Hello, earth to Remus?” Sirius asks. “Did you hear anything I’ve said for the last two minutes?”

Remus blinks slowly and does his best to put together the bits and pieces he picked up on. “You’re worried that Caradoc is going to ask you to meet his parents,” he says, although it comes out as more of a question.

Sirius sighs. “He already asked me. I’m just worried he’s up here, and I’m down there.” Sirius one hand above his head and the other on the table as he speaks. “You really weren’t paying attention, were you?”

“Edgar and I going on a double date with Frank and Alice tomorrow, and I realized that I hadn’t made the reservation yet.” The frustration is obvious on Sirius’s face, and he folds in slightly, feeling guilty. “Sorry I’ve been so spacey.”

Sirius’s face softens a little, and he reaches out and squeezes Remus’s hand. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Want to get the reservation out of the way?” Remus nods and pulls out his phone. “So, you’re kinda on the opposite page with Edgar then?”

Remus laughs. “I guess. I met his parents on Boxing Day.” For the first time, it strikes Remus that the relationship has progressed past anything casual. “How seriously do you think he’s taking this?”

Sirius’s pulls the hair tie out of his hair before pulling it back up in a tighter bun. When he’s done, his hand drops to the table, and he fiddles with the edge of his book. “Do you see it as serious?” Sirius won’t quite meet his gaze, and Remus frowns, unsure where the sudden timidity is coming from.

He considers for a moment before responding. “I suppose somewhere in between. I really like him, but—” Remus cuts off, uncertain what he trying to say. “There’s nothing specific. He does make me happy.” He bites his tongue before another “but” comes out. It’s not that he even knows what comes after it. On paper, Edgar is everything he wants. He makes him laugh, he’s earnest, and he approaches things wholeheartedly and without restraint.

“It’s okay if you don’t really have an answer,” Sirius says, and Remus can’t help but wonder if that’s an answer in itself. The question hardly has time to linger before Sirius straightens himself in his chair and continues, “Frank and Alice, though. What do you think about that?”

“Sirius, it’s not nice to talk about it behind their backs.”

“Remus,” Sirius repeats, in the same scolding tone, “They openly talk about it. You’re the one acting like it’s bad.”

“I don’t think it’s bad!” It comes out louder than he intends it to, and people at the nearby tables stare at them. The librarian looks over as well, and Remus shrinks in his chair and tries to look studious until he sees her look away from the corner of his eyes. “Their TiMERs matched when they were nine. I didn’t have a concept of ‘the rest of my life’ meant at nine. I don’t think I do now,” he whispers.

“I asked them once what it was like meeting their soulmate that young,” Sirius says, and Remus gapes.

“You just asked them?” When Sirius says nothing, Remus bites the inside of his cheek, curiosity getting the better of him. “Oh, alright, what did they say?”

“You know you’re just as much of a gossip as I am,” Sirius says, nudging Remus under the table with his foot. A small thrill goes through him, and he scoots to the edge of his chair and leans his lower calf against Sirius’s.

“Maybe.” Half a minute passes, and Sirius says nothing. “And?”

“And what?” The second the question passes his lips, he realizes, and he pulls back his leg and shakes his head. “Oh, right. Well, first Alice said that everybody thinks it, and even though it was rude, she appreciated my bluntness.” He grins, amused by his own actions. “And then they said they didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know?”

“Well, they said they were so young when it happened that it was always kind of the normal. Same way we can’t imagine them, they can’t imagine us.” He shrugs. “Made sense to me. They also said they couldn’t imagine trusting anyone more than they trust each other.”

“Wonder what that’s like,” Remus says, dropping his attention to his sweater and fixing the sleeve.

“I don’t. I have you.”

“What about James?”

“I love him to death, and he’s loyal to a fault, but his pranks sometimes get the better of him.”

“You’re involved with most of them!” Remus hisses, and Sirius smirks in response. “Besides, I trust you too, but that’s different.”

“And how so?” Sirius crosses his arms over his chest, and a small crease appears between his eyes.

“You’re my best friend. They’re soulmates.”

Sirius’s eyes harden, and for a moment, he’s sure he’s said the wrong thing, though he’s not sure how. His stomach drops out from underneath him, and he worries his lower lip between his teeth.

But the moment passes. Although he remains slightly stiff, Sirius rolls his eyes, and he nudges Remus’s foot with his again. “So, if I tell you about Caradoc, do you think you can actually listen this time?” he asks.

“I’ll try my best.

★ ★ ★

When he graduates, Remus moves to London to get his doctorate in Astrophysics at University College London. “Mind if I join?” Sirius asks, and Remus feels a wave of relief.

Sirius gets a job at a nearby coffeeshop and another working as a part-time editor at a small publishing company, and Remus dives into classes. Even though they live together, the year of classes leaves him exhausted and busy.

Sirius (17:23)
I miss you. 😭 You, me, and E tonight?

 Remus laughs as he walks toward the Euston Square tube station and texts Sirius back.

Remus (17:26)
Sounds perfect.

The pizza he orders arrives before he does, and when he gets home, Sirius greets him holding a half-eaten slice in one hand. “You should surprise order pizza more often,” Sirius says. “I was just thinking about how hungry I was when the buzzer went off. Truly serendipitous.” He grins, wide and dog-like, and Remus laughs.

“I’m glad it hit the spot.” The moment he’s rid himself of his bag and washed his hands, Remus dives in as well. It doesn’t take them long to eat, but by the time they’ve finished, Remus has gotten so caught up in the conversation that it startles him when Sirius pulls out a small bag with two pills.

“Teddy bears. Aren’t they cute?” Sirius asks as he dangles it in front of Remus. When Sirius pulls them out of the bag and hands him one, Remus can see the pill more clearly—purple and slightly misshapen. He twirls it in between his index finger and thumb and rolls his eyes fondly.

“Something like that.”

Twenty minutes later, it hits. Sirius insists on playing Portishead’s Dummy, and they’re halfway into “Sour Times” when Remus sits on the floor, leaning back on the edge of the couch and staring up at Sirius’s face from underneath. The chorus hits, and his chest wells as he watches Sirius’s mouth move as he speaks.

Sirius looks different from this angle—upside-down. It’s like staring at a reflection in a mirrored screen and seeing your movements in reverse, Remus decides. He blinks slowly and rights himself, disoriented by the change in perspective and suddenly dizzy. “Come down here,” he says, and Sirius titters as he slides down inch by inch until he’s on the floor as well.

A sudden squeeze alerts him that Sirius’s hand has fallen to his arm, and he feels the sensation seep slowly up his arm and into his chest. Without asking, he reaches out. His hand stops centimeters away from Sirius’s face, and the air in the room vanishes. Tentatively, Sirius stretches and arm and runs his fingers through Remus’s hair, nails scraping against his scalp.

A small gasp escapes Remus’s lips as his eyes flutter shut. A thrill runs down his back, and he instinctively moves closer. His hand drops to Sirius’s shirt—an open flannel—and he tugs at one end to pull him closer. Remus giggles as he runs his hand, fingers splayed, up Remus’s shirt. The sensation overwhelms him, and when his fingers first brush against Sirius’s collar and neck, he jolts and pulls his hand back.

“Fuck it’s been a while since I’ve rolled like this,” Remus says, and he twirls a strand of Sirius’s hair around his finger.

“In a good way, I hope,” Sirius says, and his voices jars Remus to look up. He feels like he’s never noticed how long Sirius’s eyelashes are, although he’s sure he must have at some point. After a moment, his eyes flicker down to Sirius’s lips, slightly red and puffy, and he whimpers. His thumb runs up along Sirius’s jaw, and over, until—carefully, with the pad of his thumb—he grazes Sirius’s lower lip.

Sirius’s lips part, and the tip of Remus’s thumb lip slips in. The beat drops in "It Could Be Sweet", and Remus feels it vibrate through the floor into him.

“In a good way,” he breathes, and Sirius whines.

“Remus…” His voice trembles, and although he doesn’t stop Remus, it’s enough to give Remus pause. The touch of Sirius’s skin against his makes his skin buzz, and he chews the inside of his cheek and drops his hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

And then Sirius is leaning in. He kisses him, hard and needy, and Remus melts against him. When Sirius tilts his head and cups his cheek, it sparks through him. His fingers tighten against Sirius’s shirt as he deepens the kiss. He holds on tightly, knuckles white, terrified to let go, and Sirius must sense his desperation. Their eyes meet, and any doubt slips away with the room until all he can feel is Sirius here against him—his.

Sirius’s hand slips under his shirt, palm flat on Remus’s stomach. When Sirius slides his hand further up, Remus jerks, overwhelmed by the sensation of Sirius’s skin against his and the roughness of the pads of his fingers. The music pounds through him, and he tugs Sirius with all the strength they can muster until Sirius is on top of him.

Remus’s rolls his hips forward, and he can’t help but smirk when he’s met with a moan against his lips. But Sirius pulls back, and though he makes no move to stand up, a glimmer of something Remus can’t quite place flashes in his eyes.

“I want to,” Sirius says, “but I’m not going to wake up tomorrow to learn you think this was a high mistake.”

“It’s not,” Remus says, and his lips jut out slightly as he tries to concentrate on looking as straight-faced as possible.

“I don’t think it is either, but I am somewhere in the stars right now, and I think you are too.” With that, Sirius pulls himself off and moves himself back on the couch. The sudden lack of weight against him hits him hard, and Remus reels. It takes him a moment to collect himself, and when he stands up, he moves towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water for each of them.

“Okay.” He doesn’t know what else to say. “Did you not want to?” he asks when he hands Sirius his glass. Only when the water hits his lips does Remus realize how dry his mouth is. His head spins, and he sits down next to Sirius on the couch and folds his legs under him, though his knee bumps against Sirius’s.

Sirius’s eyes drop down to that, and he gently settles his hand on Remus’s knee. “I cannot tell you how much I want to.” His fingers tighten around Remus’s knee before he jerks his hand away and takes a shaky breath. “I need to be able to trust that we’re both clear-headed before we do something we can’t take back.”

Any protests die on his lips, and he nods and deflates. “Can we still kiss?” he asks.

Sirius considers for a few seconds, but the hand on Remus’s waist, pulling him forward gives him all the answer he needs.

★ ★ ★

Lily and James decide to keep the reception small—just among friends, but Lily insists that Remus be her best man. “Why should only James get one of them?” she asks. “Haven’t we moved past any of this gendered nonsense?”

They get their TiMERS removed ahead of time and use the metal from them as the base for their wedding bands. Despite his best efforts, Remus tears up as they exchange their vows, and when he glances over, he can see the concentrated effort on Sirius’s face as well.

He doesn’t get a moment alone with Lily until they’ve finished with their meals, and she turns to Remus and beams. “So, you and Sirius?” She does little to mask her excitement.

“We’re here for your wedding, and you’re asking me about my relationship?” Remus rolls his eyes and pulls her into a hug. “I’m really happy for you, Lils.”

“I’m happy for me too,” she says, and she looks over at James.

“You didn’t do half-bad for yourself,” Remus teases and nudges her lightly. She laughs.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me the second you two got together,” she says and gives him a stern look. “I shouldn’t have to find out through an RSVP. That’s almost just as bad as finding out on Facebook.”

“You were busy with wedding planning. I didn’t want to distract you.”

“I could have used a distraction. I have never had to look at more tablecloths and cutlery in my life. If I had to say no to one more paisley print, I was sure I was going to lose my mind.”

“Well, it was clearly worth it in the end. I was a fan of those cute little dessert forks.”

“My mom chose those,” Lily says and reaches up, smoothing down a stray hair that had gotten displaced.

“They did scream Ms. Evans.” They reach a small lull, and Remus folds. “I should have told you. I think we just wanted it to ourselves for a while.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just happy for you. You know James and I called this back in second year?”

Before Remus can say anything else, Peter and his new girlfriend walk up to them. “Lily!” Peter exclaims and pulls her into a hug. Remus waves at her over their shoulders and goes to find Sirius.

He finds him on the dance floor with James, shimmying to “I Wanna Dance With Somebody”. He waits to the side, hiding his smirk behind his hand until the song ends. His loud hoot gets Sirius’s attention, and Sirius winks at him before walking over.

“Why don’t I ever get to see those moves?” Remus teases and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“They’re only for special occasions.” His eyes rake down Remus’s frame, and Remus feels his cheeks heat up. “You should wear a suit more often.”

“Is it doing something for you?” He means it as a joke, but Sirius’s gaze darkens, and Remus falters. “Oh.”

Sirius leans in and presses his lips to Remus’s ear as he whispers, “There’s a single stall bathroom on the first floor.” Remus stands, frozen to the spot, and Sirius walks past him and disappears into the crowd. He’s certain that the pink of his cheeks must give them away, but when he tries to discretely look around, no one seems to notice.

There a handful of people waiting outside of the room where the reception is being held, but the first floor is empty. His dress shoes click against the tile of the floor and echo down the halls. It takes him a minute to find the room Sirius had mentioned, and the second he knocks, it opens.

“What would you have done if I was someone else?” Remus asks.

Sirius shrugs. “Stepped outside and waited for you to come down.”

“What if I didn’t?”

“You’re here. Isn’t that answer enough?” A devious smirk spread across Sirius’s face, and he locks the door behind them and pushes Remus up against the wall. His hand traces the hem of Remus’s blazer until it reaches just above the buckle of his belt. “Look at you, all put together,” he says, his lips mere centimeters from Remus’s.

“You’re one to talk.” Remus tries to make a move for Sirius’s waist, but Sirius grabs his wrists and pins them to either side of his head. It’s enough to make Remus’s head spin, and he leans back and lets Sirius take control. Any pretense of cockiness drops, and he stares at Sirius taking short, shallow breaths.

“The things I want to do to you.” Remus wants to ask, but Sirius presses his lips to his neck just where the collar of Remus’s blazer stops, and Remus whimpers instead and tries to resist the urge to roll his hips forward. He kisses his way up and pauses just behind Remus’s ear. “We’ll see just how put together you look when I’m done with you.”

He run the tip of his tongue along the edge of Remus’s ear, and Remus buckles in his arms. When one of Sirius’s hands drops to his belt buckle and pulls it open, Remus squirms. He takes his time moving up Remus's jaw, and when Remus is certain he has nowhere to go but his lips, Sirius lifts his other hand and presses his thumb into Remus’s mouth, parting his lips.

“You look pretty like this,” Sirius says and slips a hand down and wraps his fingers around Remus’s cock. This thumb runs over the tip, and Remus jerks. The bemused, calculated look in Sirius’s face sends a shiver up his spins, and when Sirius drops his hand and kisses him, Remus closes his eyes.

Sirius runs his hand down and back up the length of Remus’s cock once and deepens the kiss. He stills again, and Remus opens his eyes again and frowns, frustrated. He knows better than to ask considering the look on Sirius’s face. Sirius raises an eyebrow, impressed at Remus’s restraint.

When Sirius drops to his knees and looks up at him, his hand twitches towards Sirius’s hair, but Sirius swats it away. “If I have a single hair out of place by the time I’m done, you’ll regret it later.” He smirks, and Remus bites his cheek, desperate to take him up on the challenge. But he doesn’t. He stills his hand instead and braces himself against the wall when Sirius’s mouth wraps around the head of his cock.

Sirius makes quick work. He takes Remus down far until his nose is pressed into Remus’s skin and his eyes aren’t visible, and Remus tightens his jaw trying not to thrust his hips forward. The pace he first sets is infuriatingly slow, and he meets Remus’s gaze when he runs his tongue along the underside of his cock and over the head, pressing his tongue down slightly at the tip.

Remus comes with a breathy whine, nails digging into the palms of his hands, but Sirius continues until he’s oversensitive and jerks. When he pulls back, Sirius wipes his lower lip with the back of his left hand and stands.

“Can I make you come?” Remus asks.

“Later,” Sirius says. Any protest that begins to bubble up is immediately quashed when Sirius cups Remus over his pants. “Oh Remus, you should know by now that I know how to slip things in our suitcase when you aren’t looking. We’ll make full use of our hotel room tonight. I can wait.” With that, Sirius drops his hand over to the sink. When he’s finished washing his hands, he walks past Remus, brushing shoulders, and out of the bathroom.

The door closes behind him, and Remus shuffles over to the and does his best to smooth out the fabric of his suit. He does his best to calm himself down with several long breaths before straightening his back and stepping out.

He almost feels guilty that he can hardly wait for the reception to be over.

★ ★ ★

Remus paces across the apartment, anxiously tidying up the space. “Are you really sure you want to try to spend Christmas with Regulus and his wife?” he asks. “You said he’d invited your parents as well. What if they come?”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. His brow furrows as he follows Remus with his eyes, and Remus does his best to ignore the look of concern on Sirius’s face. “Can you sit down?” he asks, and Remus ignores him, frustrated that he’s changing the topic. “Remus, if we’re going to have this conversation, can we at least have it face-to-face?”

Sirius stands and moves over to the blanket Remus is folding by their couch. He places his arms on Remus’s shoulders, and Remus stills and collapses against him. “I don’t like this.”

“I know. You’ve made that clear.” Sirius pulls the blanket out from Remus’s hands and finishes folding it himself before setting it down. “But it isn’t your call to make. Reg is allowed to invite whoever he wants. I know what I could be getting myself into, but I want to try to figure out some sort of relationship with him. Part of that is accepting the first olive branch he’s given me since we were eighteen.”

“You’ve been so careful not to see them for eight years,” Remus says. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Then you can go to Lily and James’s Christmas party, and I’ll go to my brother’s. That way, you won’t have to see it,” Sirius snaps. The regret floods his face immediately, but Remus tenses and shakes his head, trying his best to swallow the flash of anger that comes with it.

It doesn’t work. “So, you want to spend Christmas without me?” he asks, his voice bitter. “You can just say it if that’s what you want.” He intends for the accusation to hurt, and it does. Sirius takes a step back, and his shoulders turn slightly inward as he tightens his jaw and looks at Remus.

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it! Why do you hold me at arm’s length?” Sirius yells. “You always act like I’m halfway out the door, but that’s not me. That’s you. I’m right here.”

“Because in a few years your TiMER is going to go off, and then you won’t be, and we won’t be spending Christmas together anymore.” The room falls quiet after he speaks, and Remus’s chest gets tighter until he’s not sure he can recall how to breathe anymore.

After a minute, Sirius sits down on the couch, and he motions for Remus to sit next to him. Remus shakes his head, but when Sirius looks up pleadingly, he folds.

“I have to tell you something, and you have to promise not to be mad,” Sirius says, staring down at the floor. Remus wants to tell him that it’s too late for that, but he doesn’t. He says nothing instead, and after a moment, Sirius continues, his voice unsteady.

“When I was fourteen, I fell in love with a guy. His TiMER was set to go off when we were sixteen, but we vowed we wouldn’t let us stop us. It feels really dumb looking back now because you hear that sort of a thing, and you just know how it’s going to end. I mean, we were fourteen for fuck’s sake.” Although Sirius rolls his eyes and tries his best to look as if he’s telling nothing more than a casual story, his eyes seem to water. Before Remus can get a good look, however, Sirius’s hair slips past his ear and hides his face.

“Anyway, his TiMER went off, and he told me that he was sorry, but blah, blah, blah. Had to be with his soulmate. And I lost it. I found a sketchy place that would do it, and I got my TiMER taken out.”

Remus inhales sharply, and when he closes his eyes, all he can hear is the sound of his heart beating hard against his chest. “But your wrist? You have a TiMER.”

“It’s a fake. I got it put in before I started at uni. I didn’t want anyone to ask any questions. I was eighteen. Ten years seemed like far enough away that I didn’t really think about it when they told me to pick a date.”

The world goes still, and Remus’s skin feels oddly cold. Before he can stop himself, he reaches out and turns Sirius by the shoulder. “When did you take it off?” he asks.

“I was sixteen.”

“What month?”

“August. Remus, seriously, what’s going on?”

A high-pitched ringing fills his ears as his eyes move from the TiMER on Sirius’s wrist to the scar on his own. “August 6^th?” he asks, his voice small enough that he’s worried that Sirius doesn’t hear.

“What?”

“Was it—”

“How did you know?” His face contorts after a moment, and he stands up and takes a step back. “Did James tell you?”

The room spins around them, but Remus shakes his head wildly and stands up too. “I didn’t take off my TiMER to make a statement. My TiMER went blank when I was sixteen—on August 6^th. I assumed my soulmate died. I took it off before I went to uni because I was tired of everyone pitying me.”

He watches as the words settle, and the anger vanishes from Sirius’s face and his jaw goes slack. “Oh.” Just as quickly, something else starts behind his eyes, and he points a finger at Remus. “I knew it. Fucking hell. I knew it.”

“Huh?"

“New Years. I asked you about your TiMER. I had this feeling that it was you, but then—”

“I remember. I was going to tell you the truth, and then those two guys came up, and I didn’t.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Sirius says.

“You didn’t tell me either.”

They stand for a moment, transfixed and unsure, on the precipice of the truth, too afraid to say it, as if speaking will undo it. As the weight of the implication strikes him, it strikes Remus that certainty is no less terrifying. The shaky breath he releases, as quiet as it is, fills the space between them and disrupts the stillness.

“So we’re—” Remus can’t bring himself to say the words, and he starts to shake as his eyes burn.

Sirius steps forward, arms wrapping Remus until it’s all he feels, warm and familiar. “We’re not here because of that. We’re here despite it. I chose you, Remus. Life didn’t choose you for me.”

He feels himself fall loose in Sirius’s arms as he starts to cry. His body trembles, and he lets himself, for the first time, put his full weight against Sirius, trusting him to keep him from falling. He gasps for breath against him and weeps until the shirt pressed against his face is wet.

When he finally pulls back, Sirius cups Remus’s cheek and brushes his thumb under both eyes, wiping away tears. “I chose you too—you know,” Remus says, his voice hoarse.

“I know,” Sirius says, and when he kisses him, Remus doesn’t think about a number on Sirius’s wrist. Instead, he focuses on the feel of Sirius’s lips on his and the touch of his thumb as it brushes against his cheek and settles on a spot behind his ear. For the first time, the future doesn’t matter to Remus Lupin. Everything he needs is in the present.