Marauder crack

Dawn. Not a thin bit

On the fourth day, with his throat so dry and feeling like he has a bleeding sore on his stomach, Remus opens his eyes. It is difficult for him to recognise the place. The hospital wing with its beds in a row, the smell of clean sheets and healing herbs. It's a familiar scene but it is the first time that he has awakened from a slumber so deep that he feels that he has been dead, out of his body. Does not remember exactly what has gotten him there but...

Bollocks.

He opens his eyes. Feels his heart racing.

'Remembers everything.

Suddenly.

Wolf! The smell of people. Hunters The muzzle of the rifle. Runaway. Burning. The explosion. The smell of his own blood. Sirius's barking. A dog, licking his wound. On the brink of unconsciousness. His tongue inside his body. Along with the bullet. But more inside.

And then nothing.

Until now.

Next to the table, with his head resting on his mattress, there he is. Sirius. With all that hair scattered in uneven strands, black as a flock of crows on white sheets. Remus watches him and time stretches so he can lick in it. He may not get from Sirius Black everything he wants but he gets more than he could ever dream of. Does not know what stings more, if the shot or the memory of his tongue inside the meat.

- Hey, fleabag, wake up.

Sirius has licked him where no one else has been except the moon, and when he half-opens his eyes and shakes his head and yawns like an animal that comes back to itself, Remus curses himself for not having a magic camera to be able to capture him forever. So half asleep, half awake, stretching up and smiling, is when he realises it's taken four days, but finally he has returned.

- Fuck, Moony. It has already cost you some effort. You're a little lazy for a werewolf, right?

- I'm just a fag werewolf.

- Blimey, the rumors were true. - They are the usual jokes and Sirius conceals his worry with remarkable mastery, but in the depth of affection in each word, he says everything, and what he cannot say is well told by the dark circles, the wrinkles in the clothes, tired expression. - Wasn't it that only one silver bullet could kill you?

- Well, I haven't died, have I?

-No. - This time Sirius is not kidding at all. - You haven't died.

The tone of his voice is so low that Remus has two options. Go to cry and kiss him like he's really going to die or joke around. Chooses the choice of cowards instead of choosing that phrase for dying heroes.

- It seemed to me that I was not in heaven. You are ugly for a Angel. And I don't see your wings.

Jokes again. Safe territory.

- Maybe I'm the devil, Lupin, and you're in hell.

- I don't think so... I don't see your horns and tail either.

He regrets it when he hears how it sounds. Tail. Sirius is unable to let it go.

- The antlers are from James but if you want to see the other thing, you howl, we can arrange that. - He puts his hands on his belt, threatens with unbuttoning it, but backs down at the last moment- Although, in your current state, I don't know if you are prepared for such strong emotions.

When Sirius makes him laugh, the stupid wound throbs and stings.

Dammit. The hospital wing is filled with light and from the appearance, it must be first hour in the morning. Although he knows the answer, he insists on finding out why is he not in class, because yes, according to his calculations it must be Friday tomorrow.

Sirius, proud of himself, proclaims that he has managed to create a spectre identical to him who is able to sit quietly in the classroom while he walks where he wants. It's just a magic illusion but he believes that twice as much will be enough to fool the teachers.

- If he's still and quiet, how can they think it's you Padfoot?

- Bad jokes again. You are already healed.

- Have you been to class since I've been here?

- I went to Arthimancy yesterday. I ran into Malfoy, we chatted, he confessed a burning love for me, we promised to each other, and we swore by Merlin to love and respect each other but you know how I am. I hit it with Snape and now I am looking for a new direction in my life.

- You can become a humorist. I'm dying of laughter.

- It's not laughter, you're dying because they shot you.

- That explains why it hurts so much.

Fuck. He has the feeling that the bullet is still there. The pain grabs him by the balls and twists him inside. It is relieved when Sirius put his hand - that magic and hot hand - on the stomach and tempers all its pain. God. If that hand could always be there.

- You should go to class, Sirius, or you will end up expelled from school.

- If I can't stay here, what else does the school give me.

At times like this, it is an unconscionable injustice that it is prohibited to kiss him. Because Sirius is intense and barbaric and soft and the medicine that needs to heal and it is not fair to love him so much and that there are rules for that love just because the idiot likes girls.

- God how beautiful - Remus recognises the voice of James, from the door, interrupting a silence that's starting to get too thick, slightly unbreathable. - Padfoot, by the love of Merlin, why don't you tell me things like that?

He answers without looking at him but holding on to the smile.

- Because I'm shagging your mother, Potter.

James walks over to the bed, with that welcoming smile that makes Remus feel safe and at home.

- Do you see how he treats me? Do I need to be shot too in the stomach to get a little affection?

Remus thanks the gods he doesn't believe in for being alive. To the moon for having allowed him to continue under its influence. To the magic of Dumbledore. To the spirits of the forest.

- You know I love you, asshole.

It may be what he admires most about Sirius. Which is swollen like a turkey and is not able to form a sentence without saying "three tacos" but that time, even adding the usual asshole is capable of saying it "- you know I love you-" without a trace of modesty, showing up before themas it is, giving them a moment of privacy that would be worth more than the moon, if love were measured in liquid silver.