Chapter Text
Remus sat back, taking a shuddering breath. "I- what? I mean that's-" He was at a loss for words. Nothing in his brain made sense. He really wasn't quite himself. "How can you not know, Remus?" Sirius said, his tone a mixture of amusement and despair. He never calls me Remus. Before he could reply, Sirius kissed him again. Words were overrated anyway, weren't they? Remus had maybe not realised it, had not dared to hope, but he could feel it. He could all feel it now.
Sirius tried to pour everything into that kiss, all the stolen glances during lesons, all the fantasies about him and Moony doing exactly this, all the feelings he could never explain with words, only with actions. "I'm in love with you," he said against Remus' lips and he felt liberated and a bit sick at the same time. This words had been inside there for so long. "You don't need to say anything now. I just want you to know that you should be absolutely sure about your answer because this changes a lot of things. You're one of my best friends and if this is just the firewhiskey, I don't want you to regret your words tomorrow. We can stay friends and forget about it and-" Remus put his hand on Sirius' mouth to effectively stop him from talking. "I am the responsible one, remember? And you might not have noticed but I am also the only one in the room who isn't drunk." He leaned his forehead against Sirius', needing the contact and the reassuring warmth to keep talking. "I meant you. When I said I was in love once. I feel the same way." And with the next kiss he felt light oh so light, like flying without a broom. "How do we tell the others?"
"Let's not worry about that now,ok?" Sirius said with a radiant smile. "Let's not worry about anything at all."
Remus nodded, smiling back at Sirius while he summoned the matress, pillows and blankets over to the corner. They lay there, together, in the darkness, listening to the soft snore of their fellow marauders. Remus' head was on his chest and Sirius could feel the calming weight of it every time he took a breath. The warmth of their embrace made the blanket almost useless. They would both never forget this night, cherishing the memories in their hardest of times. But how could they know that now. Being young and rebellious and utterly in love. After minutes- maybe hours- of whispered words and soft caresses they fell asleep, entwined, exhausted and happy.
The first thing James saw when he opened his eyes the next morning were his two friends lying there, cuddled up and sleeping peacefully. A broad grin spread across his face. He silently got up and walked over to Wormtail's bed to poke him. He awoke with a grunt. James pointed at the corner and Peter shot him a surprised look followed by an appreciative grin. No one could deny that James Potter's plan, that had needed little more than a litte game and some firewhiskey, had worked flawlessly.