The next morning was exceedingly more comfortable than the one prior. Not having to trek across a ruined floor was particularly nice. The smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen was also agreeable, Remus decided. And after ascertaining that the bathroom was occupied he changed course to the kitchen in order to assist, since he knew that Sirius' cooking skills were very limited. He was startled to find that the would-be breakfast cook was not Sirius at all, but Severus. "You . . . cook?"

"Not when I can avoid it." Snape glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. "Did I somehow give you the impression of someone having no survival skills whatsoever, Lupin?"

Remus actually considered the question. He had never seen Severus cook before, but he had not spent a whole lot of time with him, and he was fairly certain that the man lived alone. And it seemed reasonable to believe that he lived alone elsewhere, besides at Hogwarts. Remus had also been led to understand that Severus had been acting as a spy -- at great personal risk -- for some time now. And there was the more obvious giveaway; that Severus was still very much alive, after thirty-some-odd years. "No, you didn't."

The black-clad shoulders tensed a little. Snape probably hadn't been expecting an answer, and didn't have a response ready should one be given. He recovered admirably enough, however. "Don't look so surprised, then."

"Can I help? What are you making?" Remus peered into the pots and pans, and got his second surprise of the morning. "Pancakes?"

"I am wholly capable of making pancakes on my own, Lupin." It was said a little defensively. "These were the ingredients you had most readily available. If you had stocked more eggs, I would be cooking omelettes. You don't need to make an issue of it."

"I didn't mean it like that, Severus." But Snape was right; he didn't need any help. The syrup was slow-cooking on a back burner, and it was contentedly stirring itself in a lazy fashion. Severus was supervising the cakes, personally, and nothing else needed to be cooked.

"Sirius and I will clean up, later." Remus offered in appreciation, as he sat down to watch. Not that there would be much cleaning to do, aside from the dishes. Severus kept a very orderly kitchen, and things had a way of tidying up during the cooking process. This was a talent Remus never could quite master; he always made a mess of the entire kitchen before he was through, and usually had to spend a much longer amount of time cleaning than he had spent cooking. Severus also seemed to have a knack for knowing when something had cooked long enough; so far as Remus saw none of the pancakes thus made had turned out any way but perfect, golden brown. He chuckled inwardly at that. If he were the pancakes, he'd be too frightened by the cook to even think about burning. His friendly smile faltered a bit. Were his thoughts doomed to be focused on Snape for the rest of his life? Just because he thought . . . no, because his friend thought that there was a possibility that, years ago, Severus might have taken a liking to him. Possibly. Quite likely, even, if he couldn't watch the man make breakfast without starting to wonder about it. Remus imagined living out his life, ever plagued by that one question . . . and he decided that he really didn't want to. It would be much better to just put it out of his mind right now, before it got itself rooted in. He decided that the best way to get rid of a bothersome question was to have it answered, so he asked. "Is there any truth to it, Severus?"

Snape didn't even bother to look at him. "What are you on about, Lupin? Any truth to what?"

"You can't really be that exasperated with me, yet. I've only been sitting here for five minutes, if that. Is there any truth to . . . what Sirius thinks -- thought -- about you?" Remus really wasn't sure how to put it. Perhaps this tactic could have used more planning. "That you . . . fancied me?"

"I rather thought we'd covered this distasteful topic thoroughly enough last night." Finally turning towards Remus, Snape moved closer, leaning in to hand him a plate on which the ten freshly-made pancakes were stacked. His face stayed close to Lupin's even after the plate was taken, and the resulting effect was disarming. "I will say this only once more, so please, pay attention: I do not like you, Lupin. In any way. And I never have."

Remus blinked, and nodded. He waited until Snape had returned to the stove before he relaxed his posture. He was surprised at himself. The answer had been expected, so it shouldn't have stung him. Yet, it had stung. Quite a bit. It was still stinging, in fact. It was a good thing that Snape had never liked him, wasn't it? It meant that Sirius had been that much more unjustified in his actions, years ago . . . Remus suddenly looked over at Snape. "If that's true, why did you do it?"

Snape's eyes rolled, and his reply was sharp. "Lupin, I can't read your mind, even if I did care to. Why did I do what?"

"Sorry." Remus' own thoughts weren't all that clear. "Why did you listen to Sirius that night? You hated him. You know he hated you. You had to have suspected a trap. So why did you take his suggestion?"

Remus had to wait for the syrup to be set down on the table before there was an answer. "I suspected what you were, Lupin. I wanted concrete proof of it. For myself. Will that suffice?"

"Yes." Although it was disappointing.

"Breakfast! Great!" Sirius sat down at the table, grinning openly. "Looks great, Moony."

Standing to get the orange juice himself, rather than ask Snape to fetch it, Remus nodded his agreement. "It does. Severus made it."

"Oh." Sirius was putting food on his plate with slightly less enthusiasm after hearing that.

"Nervous, Black? Lupin watched me . . . nearly . . . the whole time."

Remus forced his most jovial smile on both of them. "That's true. I didn't see him make the batter. But it smells safe."

Sirius thought about it for a bit. Weighing the risks in his mind against the hunger in his stomach before he reached for the syrup. "Good enough for me. Snape takes the first bite, though."

"I'll take the first bite, if it will make you feel better." And Remus did. He forced himself to look at anything but Severus Snape while he ate, wishing he could force his thoughts to other subjects just as easily. The pancakes were good, but focusing on that only allowed his brain to linger on who had cooked them. He wondered who had taught Severus to cook. Perhaps his mother? Did he know anything, really, about his homelife? Why was he letting himself become obsessed with a man he knew so little about, anyway? Remus almost choked on that thought. Since when was he obsessed? He wouldn't call it obsession, really. More of a pointed interest, now that Severus was living in his house. Whatever he called it, it was disturbing, and he needed to get over it. But it was persistant. Later, as he put away the newly-washed breakfast dishes, his mind wanted to wander in Snape's direction. He had even decided that he liked the way Snape's many ominous bottles and containers looked amidst his kitchen things -- they made a very charming contrast -- before he remembered that he was supposed to be thinking about other, un-Snape-related things.

It wasn't long before someone noticed. "All right, Moony? You seem distracted."

Remus toyed with the idea of telling Sirius that, thanks to his false allegations, Remus was becoming obsessed with Severus Snape. He doubted Sirius would find that very funny, which was good -- Remus didn't think it was funny, himself. He smiled. "I'll be fine. Where's Severus?"

"Shower, probably. Not that it'll help much, I bet. Feel up for a walk today, Moony? I'd like to see if I could scare up a fresh newspaper."

A walk didn't sound like that bad of an idea, but Remus didn't want to leave Severus all by himself. Of course, Snape probably wouldn't mind being left alone. And Remus couldn't give that reason to Sirius and expect anything back but a laugh. "Not today. Tomorrow, maybe. My feet need a little healing time."

That excuse had the merit of being perfectly valid, and was accepted as such. And twenty minutes later, when Snape was heading out the door with the intent of going into town himself, Remus wished he hadn't used it. "It can't wait until tomorrow, Severus?"

"I have nothing better to do today, Lupin. And I would rather not waste it sitting about here with the likes of you and Black."

"But . . . you can't go dressed like that." And Remus knew that Snape rarely dressed any other way. It was his last-ditch effort at keeping the other man from leaving, and it failed miserably.

"You can borrow some clothes. But I don't want them back after you've warn them. And you have to get me a newspaper."

The disdainful look Snape gave the suggestion was enough to give Remus hope, but he did not reject the garments Sirius was offering. He inspected them, instead. "Have they been washed?"

"They're clean. Take them or leave them, but Remus is right, you won't be able to not call attention to yourself if you go out looking like that in a town full of Muggles."

And so it was that, shortly before noon that day, Severus Snape headed out alone in the direction of a Muggle village, dressed in ill-fitting Muggle clothes. Sirius laughed for some time after Severus had gone, and attempted to get Remus to bet on how well Snape would fare in his venture. All Remus could do was try not to pace, and mutter about how they should have gone with him.

It took only two of these mutters before his state caught Sirius' attention. "You're actually worried, aren't you?"

"I just . . . think we should have gone with him. One of us should have anyway."

"He wanted to get away from us, Moony. He doesn't like to fraternize with the enemy -- and to tell you the truth, neither do I. So I supported the idea. It's a relief having him gone for a bit, don't you think?" Sirius leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head and beaming like a man vacationing on some tropical island.

Remus wasn't about to be charmed. "He isn't the enemy. You know that."

"No less of a relief having him gone just because of that. He acts like the enemy, and that's enough for me."

Not really listening to Sirius, as they had gone over this conversation before, Remus turned his gaze back to the window. "You did give him money, right?"

"You did. And that's the third time I've reminded you of it. Why are you so worried about it? Snape can take care of himself. He might not act like one all the time, but he is a grown up."

That was true. But Snape was a grown up who may or may not know how to deal with a townful of Muggles. Irritation swelled up in Remus. "You're one to talk, sometimes, do you know that? He's being hunted. He should be more careful."

"Moony, somehow I doubt Voldemort's hiding in town. And Severus Snape seems to be the careful sort -- suspicious and paranoid, remember?"

"Still!" Remus knew that he was being silly about this, and he wasn't even sure exactly why he was worried. He almost didn't hear Sirius' next words.

"Maybe Snape likes the danger. He could just be doing this for fun."

"Maybe." Remus truly doubted it, but he supposed the chance was there.

"Maybe you're only worried because you have feelings for him now."

It was a tease, meant to provoke him into some good-natured banter, but Remus didn't catch that at first, either. "Maybe."

Sirius made a disgusted face which Remus couldn't quite see, but could certainly imagine well enough. He'd seen enough Sirius' many facial expressions. "Sick, Remus. Bad joke."

But Remus wasn't joking. There was a good chance that what Sirius had said was true. "It's not a joke, Sirius. And I'm not sure about it, yet . . . but I can't deny the possibility, even if I'm hoping it's not true."

This time Remus turned so that he could better watch Sirius gape at him. " . . . That's . . . Disgusting . . ."

"Oh, now, you started it, didn't you?"

"I did not!"

"You told me Severus had feelings for me. Because of that, I began to notice him more. This is really your fault, Sirius." Remus smiled at him. In his own opinion, Sirius really had this coming. And Remus was tired of having to dwell on it alone. He wanted company.

"So what if you noticed him more? He's ugly, cruel, p-"

"Intelligent, mysterious, challenging, and talented." Remus was beginning to enjoy this. He wished he could come up with a few more complimentary things to say about Snape, just to see if Sirius could get any whiter. "You can breathe, Sirius. He hates me."

"Thank God!" Sirius did breathe, and ran both of his hands over his face and through his hair for good measure, as if he could physically put his mind back together again. Remus decided to give him whatever time he needed to sort it all through, and it was several minutes before either of them spoke. "And he didn't always hate you, whatever he says now."

So they were going to go through all that again, were they? At least Sirius wasn't being irate about the whole thing. He actually sounded fairly composed, now. And he absolutely refused to waver in his opinion about Snape's supposed attraction. Remus couldn't help but be curious about that. "What makes you so sure?"

"The stares . . ."

"We all of us stared at each other, Sirius. Us and the Slytherins. And he was more paranoid than some of them -- you said it yourself."

"And he was more than eager to see where you went off to. Didn't even stop to think I might be pulling something -- or he was too smitten to care if I was."

Remus smiled, since he had thought of that, himself. And it had nearly convinced him. He was almost sorry that he had to counter it. "He wanted proof that I was a werewolf. That's all."

Sirius scoffed. "That's the biggest load of horseshit I've ever heard."

Was it? Remus looked at his friend carefully. He was so sure . . . But, then, Sirius Black was a very stubborn man. He might just be arguing an insubstantial case because he didn't want to admit that he was wrong. "Why do you think that?"

"Well, because." Sirius shrugged before continuing with the air of someone who had given the same explanation enough times to have it memorized. "If he had known that you were a werewolf, he wouldn't have gone running blindly towards you on my advice. He'd have been way more cautious than that, because he would have had some ideas about what he'd be getting into. He'd have taken the time to investigate the passage when no one was going to be in there, to make sure it was safe. He'd probably have searched for another way to get to the Shack on a full moon night once he found out where the passage led. That sort of thing. Unless he's even stupider than I've given him credit for being."

Severus wasn't that stupid. He hadn't been, even then. That was a very good point. Remus was about to ask who Sirius had discussed this with before, since he so obviously had, when his friend continued. "It's not true, is it? You can't actually like him. It's impossible!"

"I don't know. I think that . . . I like having him around. I don't know what that means yet. And if you've ever called yourself my friend," Remus added, cutting off what was no doubt a reproachful comment, "You would keep your opinion of it to yourself for now."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Remus was aware that he was being stared at, so he pointedly looked out the window. He wanted to ask what it was that had Sirius so upset about it. Was it the fact that he might be interested in another man? Or was it that the man in question was Severus? He realized that they had never discussed sexual orientation, among their group. It had just been assumed. And, of course, it was often brought into question whenever someone wanted to goad someone else into a fight, or engage in friendly teasing. Now it bothered him that he had no idea where Sirius actually stood on the issue. He wasn't sure where he stood on it, himself. Did he even want to start thinking about Snape in a sexual manner? He hadn't let himself touch on that subject in quite some time now, and he wasn't sure it was exactly wise to do so now.

"Can I talk now?" It had been fifteen minutes of unbearable tension for them both, so Remus nodded. Even after permission had been given, Sirius hesitated to speak. He probably wasn't sure what to say. Remus supposed it was either going to be something along the lines of how long he had been gay, or perhaps it was just going to be a list of reasons why he should stay away from Severus. "How long have you been--"

"I'm not. At least, I don't think that I am." Does it matter, Sirius? Or are you worried that I might have been looking at you during school, while you were fuming about Snape's interest in me? Remus had not been. He was sure about that much, at least. He had never wanted any of his friends to be anything but friends.

Sirius was nodding at him. "Right. You had dates . . . to the dances, and everything."

That proved absolutely nothing, and Remus almost said as much. Taking a Ravenclaw girl to a Yule Ball was not exactly a forthright declaration of heterosexuality, but perhaps it was best to let Sirius think that it was. Still, even Severus would pair off with someone for a dance -- it was expected. The majority of Remus' dates had been one-time-only occurances, and had not amounted to anything beyond the actual date itself. What bothered him was that Sirius knew all of that, and still wanted to use it as proof positive that he could not be interested in Snape. "That doesn't mean that I'm against homosexuality, Sirius. I just hadn't considered it for myself."

"But suddenly you're going to, now . . . because it's Snape?"

Sirius was right, it didn't make a whole lot of sense. Especially since Severus was unlikely to ever want a relationship with him. But, therein lay the crux of it. "For a long time I didn't think that I would ever get a chance at a meaningful relationship with anyone -- because of what I was. I started to think that I didn't even want to try for one. I was so convinced that I didn't bother to make attempts . . . I just . . . avoided it. For years. I was alone. And now I'm not so alone anymore, and I really don't to go back to it. I . . . I'm infatuated with the idea that someone who knows what I am might be attracted with me. I have some romantic, idealistic notion that Severus might feel just as alone as I do, and that we could help each other . . . not be."

"You aren't the only one who's been lonely, Remus."

"I know that, Sirius." He tilted his head, and then smiled gently. "Do you want us to be lovers, Padfoot?"

It was an honest question, but Black didn't really need to think about it long. He shook his own head back at Remus, and grinned. "No, thanks. That would be . . . awkward, I think. And I . . . do sort of want a family. I rather think I'd make a good father."

"You would." Remus returned the grin, more than a little relieved. It would have been very awkward, indeed, if Sirius had said yes. "At least you have Harry."

"Soon as things settle down, I'll adopt him. And maybe find someone worth marrying." Someone who could cook, had long legs and preferably didn't mind that he was a prison escapee. "Moony . . . what would you have done if I'd said yes?"

"I was hoping that you wouldn't. If you had, I guess we would have had to have a talk about how it could hurt our friendship, and how I don't want to risk that."

Sirius laughed, and the quiet that followed was the relaxed kind that often turns up when two very good friends are in the room together. "Are you going to use that same line with Snape? Because I think he'll say no."

"I'm sure that he would."

"You can do better than him, Moony. I really don't think--"

"You had your chance, Black." Chuckling, Remus stood with the intention of making tea for them both, in order to better pass the time.

Sirius followed him as far as the kitchen window, where he leaned against the wall. "I don't know why it bothers me, but it does. I think it's mostly because it's . . . well, it's Snape. I don't trust him. I don't like him."

"And he doesn't trust or like either of us, so it's not likely anything will come of it. Can we talk about something else, for a while?"

"Sure." But it was some time before either of them could think of something else to say. And even while he was exchanging pleasantries and bits of nostalgia-laden stories from their past, Remus' real focus was on the position of the sun in the sky. It was starting to sink, and that made him nervous. Hours passed, and Severus had not returned. Remus and Sirius had fallen back into their silence; Remus had also taken up his pacing again, though now Sirius knew better than to comment on it. The color of the sky shifted slowly from blue to red to a deep, dark indigo and still Severus had not returned. "Where is he?"

"Do you want me to go look for him? You can start dinner, and I'll go find him and drag him back -- by his hair if I have to. Okay?"

The chief motivation behind the question was probably hunger, but Remus smiled gratefully at Sirius anyway. "Thank you."

Sirius had barely enough time to shift into his four-legged self before the door decided to open and allow Snape to stride inside the cabin as though he'd only been gone for a few minutes, instead of the entire day. His entrance was somewhat muted by his attire; jeans and loose, long-sleeved button-up shirts did not have the same effect as floor-lenght, billowing robes. That he had one arm wrapped around the pot of a good-sized plant and the other heavily laden with bags probably did little to help the image. "I see that you've once again assumed your more charming form, Black. Why am I not surprised?"

Closing his eyes briefly to revel in the voice, Remus smiled. He felt as though the very air around him had lightened. Knowing that Severus was safe was almost enough to make him giddy; he hadn't realized he had been that worried. "We were starting to think something had happened to you, Severus."

"I'm sure you were both beside yourselves with concern." Even laced as it was with sarcasm, Remus found it a pleasant sound to listen to. He knew better than to admit that he had indeed been concerned, however, or to offer to help Snape with his bags. He kept his attention on preparing a meal for the three of them.

Sirius was not about to ignore the bags, himself; he was sniffing at them as Snape set them down on the table. "Get down, you miserable cur! What -- oh, fine. Really, Black, I would think that you would have more pride than this."

Having secured his newspaper, Sirius felt that it was safe to toss a growl in Snape's direction. The dog set the paper on one of the empty chairs, changed back into a human and smirked. "Nice plant."

"Yes, and I would thank you to stay away from it. It is neither a chew toy nor a urinal." Severus began to meticulously put things away, indicating that any further commentary would be ignored. After a haughty snort, Black turned his attention to the paper, possibly unaware that he was being complaisant by doing so.

Remus couldn't stop smiling at the food he was preparing. Within the hour, they were sitting down to a decent chicken dinner, and Sirius was reading the more interesting sections of the paper aloud. That is, until Snape advised him to stop, with the threat of slipping a few choice toxins into tomorrow's omelettes, should Sirius not comply. It was only then that Remus noticed Severus had purchased more eggs. That made him grin, for no real reason, and he felt a little foolish. He told himself that realizing he wanted someone in his life -- even determining who that person was -- did not give him leeway to act like an idiot. Severus wanted nothing to do with him, after all, and even if he did, a relationship with Snape was likely to be hellish to some degree. Remus would do better to resign himself to an unhappy fate, either way, and stop smiling. Yet, he felt even more foolish sitting in his seat and trying not to smile than he did when he was smiling. He decided that what he really needed was a swift punch in the face to bring him back down to earth and bump his thoughts in order. The thought of confronting Snape had a comparable sobering effect, at least. He wasn't sure, yet, how he wanted to do that. Should he just wait for the moment to present itself? It didn't look as though that would happen anytime soon, as Severus was the first to leave the table and retire for bed.

Sirius stretched. "Well, I can handle the dishes, Moony. Since you cooked."

Was that a hint? Remus wasn't sure. He didn't think that Sirius would help him with this . . . but he could be wrong about that. Perhaps noticing his hesitation, Sirius stood up and began clearing the table. "I got it. You go on."

Having never loved Sirius more than he did in that moment, Remus left the kitchen to have a word or two with Severus Snape.

While the walk to the bedroom door was not a long one, it gave him enough time to consider turning back. Hadn't he made enough progress for one day, having discussed it with Sirius? That conversation had been emotionally very trying; did he really want to go through another one that was likely to be equally tiresome, if not moreso? And, of course, Snape was probably exhausted as well, having spent the whole day traipsing about the countryside. Remus let the inner debate run its course, before deciding that, ultimately, it would be for the best if he just got it over with. He knocked on the door to what had, up until a few days prior, been his own bedroom.

He had plenty of time to think about what he was going to say -- indeed, enough to start wondering if Severus was already asleep -- before the door opened. Snape stood there, waiting for Remus to explain himself. "I want to talk to you. I think you're lying about never liking me."

Snape folded his arms and leaned back against the wall, still not letting Remus inside the room. "I thought Black had made it his personal mission to 'out' me."

"He thinks he already has."

Giving an exasperated sigh, Snape straightened to block the doorway more thoroughly. "Is that all?"

"Sirius can tell a gaze from a glare." Remus pushed past him while he spoke, stopping in the middle of the room and turning to face a bitter smirk.

"That's doubtful."

"And you didn't know I was werewolf."

Snape rolled his eyes dramatically and pinched the bridge of his nose, between his eyes, as though he were suffering from a migraine. "Will you never let this go, Lupin?"

"JUST ADMIT THAT YOU WERE ONCE INTERESTED IN ME, DAMN IT!" Remus hadn't intended to raise his voice, but he was frustrated.

Snape didn't even blink. The smirk never faltered. "Why, Lupin, you fascinated me -- as would any unusual species of insect."

Lupin hissed "liar" through gritted teeth, but that only encouraged the smirk, and the cold, black eyes glittered at him. "Why does it matter so much to you that you can't accept being wrong about me, Lupin?"

Admitting anything right now would be a great risk, and Remus knew that. Snape would probably just use the confession against him. But it was the truth. And it was the only answer he had at the moment. "I want some sort of . . . compensation. Because I'm interested in you, now."

"I am sorry to hear that." Snape didn't sound sorry at all. In fact, the bastard was grinning. He sounded amused. "Does Black know?"

"Yes. And he's sickened by it. I'm sickened by it."

That made the grin falter; it was replaced with a cruel sneer. "I'm flattered."

"Not sickened by you, you dolt. By the fact that I . . . might like having you around, and you hate me." Remus considered leaving before Snape could reply, but he had pushed his way into the room -- and had positioned himself so that Severus was between him and the exit. He was fervently wishing that he'd put more forethought into this plan.

"I don't, actually." Remus hadn't expected that answer, and his astonishment probably showed on his face. Looking no less irritated than he had when he opened the door, Snape continued. "I have far more important people to hate, Lupin. I said that I disliked you. Now, if you're going to go all to pieces over being disliked, kindly do it in another room. You could always run to Black for comfort; I doubt he'd mind."

Remus wasn't going to go all to to pieces, however. He stayed put. "Why do you dislike me, Severus?"

"I hated you for years, Lupin. You should be grateful for the improvement and leave it at that."

"I never hated you. But I've disliked you, too, in the past."

"Tragic. Whatever made you stop?"

"It's childish to hold grudges." Remus smiled. "And there are things to like about you, Severus."

Snape snorted. "None of them are intentional, I assure you. Are you quite finished here, Lupin?"

"No." Remus was undaunted. He didn't want to be finished just yet, but he wasn't sure what else there was to say -- if anything.

Raising an eyebrow in mute invitation, Severus waited for Remus to continue. There were a few more questions he could ask, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to tread into some of those territories. Really, what he wanted was some sort of confirmation, he supposed, if not reciprocation. A sign that Severus acknowledged how Remus felt and would consider . . . consider what? Remus realized he had not made any offers, just an uncertain declaration. What sort of proposal could he make, that would not be met with immediate rejection simply on principle? He wasn't even sure what he wanted, so he had no right asking Snape to consider anything. To put it bluntly, the whole thing was all very nervewracking, and it was made abruptly moreso by the fact that he was being pulled into a harsh embrace of sorts. His eyes widened; he hadn't even noticed Snape's approach. Tensed, but not sure how to react, Remus allowed himself to be hastily turned to face his bookcase. There were several quick, proficient movements and an almost violent flinch on his part when he felt a hand manoeuvre itself past his clothing. "Wait . . . !"

There was no response -- verbal or physical, to the request. It simply went unheeded. A few short minutes were all it took before Remus climaxed with a soft whimper into that expert hand, and nearly collapsed back against the other man. Severus supported him while reaching around him to deftly pluck his wand from dresser, and for long enough afterwards to clean them both off. Then the support was gone, almost as swiftly as it had appeared, and he was forced to keep his own knees from buckling. Still standing, but unable to keep from shaking, he turned to see Snape climbing into the bed. Remus followed, but was greeted with a frigid voice the second he started to lower himself onto the mattress. "Go to your own bed, Lupin."

Crushed, but suppressing the urge to remind Snape that this was his bed, Remus obeyed. He was stunned, and had no idea what to make of the encounter. After he had a chance to reflect, and to catch his breath, he was overcome with the urge to storm back into the bedroom and demand to know what just happened. Common sense argued against that act, however; better to sleep on it. It had been a long day for both of them, and there would be time enough tomorrow for explanations. He took a detour to the bathroom first, hoping that a shower would help his nerves. Relieved to see that Sirius was already asleep (or pretending to be asleep) on the couch a half hour later, Remus quietly crawled into the living room bed and stared at the ceiling in the dark. He wasn't sure when he would be able to get a chance to corner Snape alone, but he intended to do just that -- at the earliest opportunity.

The earliest opportunity turned out to be that morning. Sirius woke Remus unintentionally, a short while after sunrise. He apologized for it, and offered Remus first use of the bathroom. Declining, Remus said that he had wanted to get up early, anyway. It was the truth, and it allowed him to be sitting in the kitchen drinking tea when Severus came in to prepare breakfast. "Morning, Severus."

"I noticed." Snape wasted no time getting out various vegetables to dice. He barely even glanced at Remus while he spoke. "Did Black send you in here to keep a close eye on how his food is prepared?"

It was as though nothing had happened between them last night. He should have expected as much. "You're in top form this morning. No, he didn't. I was hoping to catch you alone, actually."

"Whatever for, Lupin?"

"I think you owe me an explanation --"

"I owe you absolutely nothing."

"Fair enough." It was said to placate; Remus was getting weary of these verbal skirmishes. Would every conversation between them be a battle? "Would you mind giving me one anyway? I'd like to know why I was thrown out of my bedroom last night."

"I hardly threw you out, Lupin. I asked you to leave."

"You ordered me to leave, after . . ." Remus trailed off. He wasn't sure how he wanted to phrase it.

The hesitation caused the usual smirk to appear on Snape's face. "Don't strain yourself, Lupin."

"Just tell me why. Please . . ." Or else Remus felt he might very well go insane, and it would be all Snape's fault. Not that Severus would care.

Snape's attention had returned to the food. When he did speak, it was to the eggs. "I was tired, Lupin. You didn't seem to be leaving on your own, so I thought to hasten your departure by giving you what you wanted and sending you on your way."

"What I wanted . . .?" Remus blinked. "I never -- You could have just asked me to let you sleep! You didn't have to do that!"

Unless, of course, Severus had wanted to, himself, and just didn't want to admit to it now. Remus hoped that was the case, and that Snape didn't actually think so little of both of them. "You misread me, Severus."

"Did I? You obviously hadn't engaged in any sexual activity in quite some time." Remus couldn't argue that; he had been thinking along that line himself, last night, and he flushed crimson when it was spoken aloud. Snape continued. "And I seem to recall you didn't make any complaints, even when I told you to leave."

"I was shocked!" This was getting nowhere. "Severus, I . . . really had no idea what I wanted from you. What you did left me stunned. And ordering me out of the room afterwards was probably the most hurtful thing you could have done."

"Really, Lupin, did you think me to be the sort of person who, at the barest hint of curiosity from you, would melt into a lovesick fool? Perhaps you should reconsider your attraction to me, if so. I sleep alone, Lupin. And last night I was tired."

Remus stared at Snape, not sure how to respond. No, he couldn't have expected that Severus would undergo a drastic change just because Remus was interested in him. If he was going to be attracted to Snape, he would have to accept that Snape would always be . . . Snape-like. He would have to realize that every conversation may just be a battle, and he would have to learn how to fight them. Remus nodded, mostly to himself. He thought that he could live with that. A smile played at his lips when another thought flickered into his mind. "You slept with me once."

Severus was looking at him as though he were insane. "What was that?"

"You slept with me once already, Severus. The other day. So you don't always sleep alone." Remus grinned. "Your eggs are burning . . ."

Snape scowled, and turned his attention back to what he had been doing. The food was being set on the table when Sirius decided to join them, forcing Remus to wait for another opportunity to press the issue. He decided that he didn't really mind waiting at all.

All thoughts of getting Snape alone again were put off for a few hours, as dishes were cleaned and Sirius wanted to talk. The radio in the living room was turned on for the first time in days, but there was miserably little in the way of news. Severus, probably to escape the banal noise issuing from the radio, took to the back of the house for a while. Remus had just made up his mind to seek Severus out, when Sirius reminded him that they had planned to walk into town that day. Remus wouldn't allow himself to look disgruntled. He smiled. "If you still want your walk, Padfoot, it'd probably be good for me."

Grinning, Sirius grabbed his jacket and set out in the direction of town. It was still very cool, for it being late morning, and Remus welcomed the breeze. He hadn't realized how stuffy the house could get. Particularly now, with three people living in it. It was little wonder why Sirius was eager to get out. Still, Remus found himself distracted. He was dragging his feet, and he was aware of it. Worse, Sirius grew aware of it, too. "Go back, Moony."

Remus blinked. "What?"

The grin was reassuring, but Remus still wasn't sure Sirius meant what he said. "I can go on my own. Not going to drag you along if you're not up for it."

"I'd rather not have to worry about you all day, actually." Remus smiled, only half-teasing.

"Then don't!" The other man was laughing, and that put Remus more at ease than anything else could have. "Really, I'll be fine. Look, this thing with Snape bothers me. This way you can work out the details of . . . whatever it is you have . . . and I won't have to hear it. Fact is, I'd like to be kept as much in the dark as possible, if you don't mind."

While he had some misgivings about letting Sirius go off alone, it wasn't as if the man couldn't take care of himself. And Sirius had a valid argument. So Remus nodded, gratefully, and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Go on, then."

After watching Sirius off, Remus turned and headed back to the cabin. He caught Severus in the kitchen, misting his cactus plant. Clearing his throat to announce his return, Remus stopped a few feet behind the man's back. "I want to spend the day with you, Severus."

If the Potions master was startled, he didn't show it. There was a minute straightening in the stance, and a tense of muscle. That was all, and then Snape turned to face Lupin fully. "I would think that Black would need looking after far more than I do, Lupin."

"He said he'd stay out of trouble. I just wanted to spend time with you."

The black eyes narrowed, suspiciously. "Why?"

Remus bit back a `why not,' and forced himself to think of a real answer. He was sure Severus could come up with several reasons why they shouldn't spend time together, and he didn't want to hear any of them right now. "To see how well we get along. Is . . . that all right?"

There was a moment where Remus was absolutely certain Snape would say no. He could almost see the mental struggle play itself out on the man's face; Snape looked as though he wasn't sure whether to smirk, glare or -- for one heart-stopping instant -- smile. Finally, he sighed, and settled on a mild glower. As though he were being forced to reluctantly accept the situation as it was. "Fine. Don't expect me to entertain you."

Remus had found the mix of facial expressions quite entertaining, but he didn't say so. He grinned, earning himself a more definite scowl from the other man. "Of course not!"

He sat at his table, in Black's seat, and watched Severus set the plant back on the desk by the window. Their conversation was, at first, halted; full of little awkward pauses. Subject matter was kept strictly on the trivial things. It wasn't until Remus began questioning Snape about all of the medical and potion-related properties of the cactus he'd bought that Snape began to speak freely. Until then, all answers had to be extracted with the surgical precision one usually only sees on operating tables. After proving for what seemed to be countless times that he was sincerely interested, Remus discovered that Severus had excellent -- if evasive -- conversational skills. He just found it exceedingly difficult to steer the topic of discussion to anything remotely personal. He offered to make tea for them both, and was pouring it when his mouth opened and allowed his thoughts to spill forth, unchecked. "It's nice that we can talk, Severus. I'd had some doubts . . . I hate to see couples who can't communicate with each other . . ."

It was the heavy silence that followed which made him realize what he'd said. Snape raised an eyebrow, and deliberately took a sip of tea to draw out Remus' discomfort before speaking. "Do you think that we're a couple now, Lupin?"

Remus woefully noted that all ease in Snape's speech and composure had been replaced with a wary, closed off feeling. He shook his head. "No. I guess not. We're not even friends, are we?"

The reply was immediate, and harsh. "Certainly not."

"Well, we must be something."

There was an exasperated sigh from across the table. "I'm afraid I don't see why we have to be."

Remus mentally sorted through his answers for that, even though Snape hadn't really asked him for an explanation. He could say that it was because of Snape's little favor, and what it implied. Or he could take the position that they should be, simply because it might be mutually beneficial. But he could imagine what responses Severus would give to both of those views, so he decided to take the most selfish one of all. "Because I want us to be."

There was really no arguing that, without Snape's putting his own feelings on the matter, whatever they were, in full light. Remus watched Severus try for a while, drinking his own tea and acting a lot more relaxed than he actually was. Finally, Snape came up with something to say, and while it probably didn't come out as caustic as he wanted it to be, it was coupled with a first-class roll of the eyes. "Are you sure about that, Lupin?"

Remus had hoped he would ask that question. He had been figuring out the answer to it himself for the entire morning, and the better part of the previous night. "Yes. I know you aren't the most agreeable person. That you're stubborn and cruel and childish. I've decided that I like you anyway."

"Lupin . . . you pain me."

Raising his empty hands in mock surrender, Remus raised his brows and made an offer. "Tell me you hate having me around, and I will let you alone, Severus."

The answering lull made Remus beam, which was likely what irritated Snape enough to provoke a verbal reply. "Don't look so thrilled. I can stomach your presence. That's all."

That was as good a confession as he was going to get, Remus decided. His grin didn't lose any of its intensity, but he directed it towards the tablecloth out of regard. "Sure."

The affability that followed bolstered Remus' already good mood, and he remembered their talk at breakfast. "Now that that's settled -- may I keep you company tonight?"

Snape gave him an answering sneer. "Won't Black wonder where you are?"

"I think he'll figure it out quickly enough, actually."

"I might not care for company."

"Fair enough." Remus smiled and said in a complacent tone that was sure to strike a nerve or two, "Some other night then. When you're ready."

Just as Remus had suspected, Snape winced at the tone. "Lupin, if you want sex --"

"I don't." Remus hurried on before Severus misunderstood him. "I mean . . . I'm not going to have sex with someone who doesn't trust me enough to sleep next to me."

A pause, and then a smirk. "I have slept next to you, Lupin, as you so gleefully pointed out this morning."

Remus nodded, still smiling. "Do it again, tonight."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why you are you so intent on it?" It was an evasive tactic, but Remus wasn't sure he wanted to go after a real answer just yet.

"I just . . . am." It might be better just to think that Severus was being contrary just for its own sake. He didn't want to sleep with Remus because Remus wanted to. Remus knew that there had to be deeper reasons, but he was sure that they would come out in their time. "But I'll let it go for now."

The truth of it was, not long ago, Remus had been concerned that he might not be able to be attracted, physically, to Severus Snape. Or any male, for that matter. It was almost embarrassing to him how quickly attraction came on the heels of discovering Severus was somewhat skilled in that area. True, what little Snape had done to him had been done with an almost cold, calculated detachment. Yet, at the oddest moments he found himself wondering what it would be like -- how much better it could be, if Severus were emotionally involved in the act. That is, if Severus could allow himself to become emotionally involved. Such an involvement would take time to develop, and Remus wasn't going to let them rush into a physical relationship until he was sure that there was at least a likelihood that Severus cared.

Still, his fantasies gained strength as the day wore on, and grew increasingly carnal in nature. It had been so long since he'd allowed himself to have such lurid fantasies -- let alone act upon them -- that he was very tempted to accept Snape's offer, just to satisfy some of his own wants.

However, he was a patient man, and was somehow able to convince himself of it. Evening came quickly, and they had a supper for just the two of them. Remus amused himself with thoughts of lighting tapered candles, and perhaps spelling the cactus to softly hum a romantic tune, should none be available on the radio. Imagining Snape's reaction to that set-up made Remus chuckle out loud.

"Dare I ask what you find so amusing?"

Grinning still, Remus shrugged. "Us."

Snape did not ask him to elaborate, and that was for the best. Nightfall found them sitting in the living room -- Remus' makeshift bed transfigured into a second armchair, so that they could face one another while they spoke.

Remus purposely avoided any mention of the bedroom, as he didn't want to encourage his already wayward fantasies any more than he had to. They kept to safer topics. Teaching styles were touched upon, briefly, along with motivations for that particular profession. This led to discussion of Hogwarts, which gave way to the headmaster, Harry, and the current state of things. Remus was very tempted to ask Severus about his cryptic situation, but a stronger desire to not upset the man stayed his tongue about it. He noticed the hour, instead. "It's nearly nine! I wonder what's holding up Sirius? He must be starving . . ."

Worry did not truly set in until eleven. Reason -- in the form of one Severus Snape -- told Remus that looking for a black dog in the middle of the night was futile. Any search would have to wait until morning. That wouldn't stop him from waiting up for his friend's return, however. Remus didn't bother turning his chair back into a bed. He sat, trying to watch the clock and the door simultaneously. While he fully intended to stay awake until Sirius came home, Remus was less than successful: he closed his eyes sometime around three-fifteen in the morning, and when he opened them again it was dawn. The couch was empty, but the other chair still had an occupant. He blinked in surprise. Severus was fast asleep, sitting up, and looking as stern as ever. Remus smiled to himself, carefully noting the way Snape slumped a bit to one side, with his hands folded limply in his lap. The man so rarely let his guard down that Remus felt it was imperative to savor the moment while it lasted. Remus stood, and suppressed the urge to wake Severus up by kissing his cheek, reminding himself that Sirius could be hurt and that this was no time for unsolicited signs of affection -- even if the timing was good for them. He coughed, instead. "Severus?"

That was all it took. Black eyes snapped open and narrowed at once. Severus looked from Remus to the empty couch and then nodded. "We'll look for him."

They quickly changed clothes in order to be more presentable to the Muggle world, and then hurried out. A moment more was lost to Snape's locking the door, and then they began the search in earnest. There was no sign of Sirius on the way to town, through the fields. Remus suggested that they split up once they reached the town itself, and if neither had any luck they would double back and comb the fields and forest more thoroughly. Luckily, the town was a small one. It would not take long for two people to look into all of its parks and alleyways. Remus could only hope that Sirius had not been taken inside a building, as there would be no way to find him if that were the case. Sirius would have to find his own way out of whatever situation he was in, and that could bode ill for him . . . especially if he were injured. Remus didn't even want to think about Sirius being hurt and locked away in some Muggle garage.

He forced himself to stop looking when the growls issuing forth from his midsection became distracting. Feeling like he hadn't eaten in days, Remus had a hurried brunch in a little restaurant. It was a guilt-ridden twenty minutes to be sure, and he hoped that Severus would think to do something similar. Wherever Severus was. The eggs he had only just eaten suddenly turned over in his stomach; what if he couldn't find Severus or Sirius again? What if something were to happen to them both? Sickened by the thought, Remus urged his feet to move faster. He wasn't sure where this onslaught of dread was coming from, but he was determined to heed it.

He asked any locals he happened upon whether they'd seen his dog, or his "cousin." It seemed that they were determined to be unhelpful, however. It was another two hours after he'd had his meal when a familiar whine caused him to halt suddenly in midstep. He tilted his head towards it, and pivoted to follow the sound. It was a residential street, and one that he was sure he had been down before, that morning. The houses were somewhat large, spaced far from one another, and surrounded by greenery. The families that lived there were well-to-do, and many of them had children. For the most part, children were notorious dog-lovers, and Remus would not be at all amazed if one of the kids on this street decided to take in a friendly stray the night before. It was the voices which almost made him falter. One of them was unknown, and very young. The other belonged to Snape.

Remus slowed his steps, and stopped himself just as he came into view of the unfolding scene. Sirius was tied to a large tree in front of a white house with a length of rope. He looked miserable, but Remus judged that it was more likely from the collar around his neck than any health reasons. The dog really looked none the worse for wear. Severus was standing a short distance from the woebegone canine, arguing with a nine-year-old boy.

Seeing them both safe and sound gave Remus leave to stand back and play the part of an amused witness. He trusted Severus to handle it, after all.

"He's mine! His name is Jake!"

Remus watched Severus straighten up in order to tower all the more impressively over the child. He wondered if Snape remembered that he was wearing jeans and flannel. "You could not have had him longer than a day, since it was only yesterday that he went missing. Kidnapping a dog for a day does not, under any law of which I am aware, make him yours. You'll release him now, if you have even a modicum of wit you'll realize that you do not wish to cross paths with me."

The child didn't seem very impressed. "He's not yours! I've had him for years!"

Remus couldn't see Snape's eyes from where he was, but he was sure that they flashed with something akin to rage. Severus didn't care much for being lied to. "I can recognize my own dog, boy!"

"He's mine!" For a split second Remus was worried that Severus might strike at the child, or -- worse -- go for his wand. But the boy's impudent shouts had finally brought an adult out of the white house, distracting all of them.

She was probably the boy's mother. She was old enough, and they shared a roundness of the face and similar upturned noses. Her hair color was a lot paler than the boy's, though. And she had a great many more freckles. "What is it? Martin, what's going on?"

If her exasperated tone was any indication, she already suspected her son of being up to something. Remus was glad for that, in this case. It meant that she was likelier to take Severus' word over the child's. And, if she were indeed the boy's mother, she would probably know that the dog was a very recent addition to their household.

That didn't mean the boy wouldn't make a cursory effort, of course. "This man is trying to steal Jake!"

"Rubbish. The dog is mine, and he went missing yesterday. I've been looking for him since daybreak." Severus had turned to the woman and, thus, away from Remus. Whatever expression Snape was wearing must have been sincere, because the boy's mother immediately apologised and told Martin to untie the poor beast and let it go home with its owner. Remus watched Sirius carefully as Snape took the makeshift leash out of the boy's reluctant hands. For his part, Sirius appeared very happy to be going home with his owner. Snape was smiling, himself, but Remus thought that might be more because he was holding a leash which was tied around the neck of Sirius Black. Severus was the sort who would derive great pleasure from that fact. Snape nodded to the woman, and began to lead Sirius over to where Remus was standing.

He let them come to him, and greeted them both with a warm smile of his own. "Nicely done."

Sirius began growling the moment they had turned off of the boy's street. Snape sneered at him, and gave the leash a short tug. "You brought this on yourself, Black."

"He does have a point, Padfoot. I don't know how you let yourself get collared, but we really need to be more careful from now on." Sirius whimpered at the chiding, and Remus pitied him enough to take the leash from Severus for the rest of the walk through town.

Once in the fields, the rope was detached from the collar and Sirius was allowed to run up ahead. By the time they'd reached their cabin again, Remus was entirely worn out. Sirius transformed back to himself and removed the collar, looking at it critically while Severus vanished into the kitchen. "That brat even gave me a nametag."

Remus smiled. "Well, that's not such a bad idea . . . if you don't want to be taken for a stray."

"Hmph. Well. My name isn't Jake." Sirius took the collar with him and flopped into the new armchair, not asking where it came from. He studied the nametag for a while before asking to borrow Remus' wand.

Remus let Sirius tinker with the collar in peace. The smell of food cooking in the kitchen assured him that a meal was well on its way. He was tempted to have a nap before supper, but decided that a shower might be the better choice. The water would help wake him up, and wash away the accumulated sweat and dust from the day's events. By the time he had dressed again and returned to the living room supper was being served, and Sirius, having succeeded in changing the name on the dog tag to read "Snuffles" instead of "Jake," was ready to recount yesterday's adventure.

Remus listened attentively while he ate. What had happened, once Snape's scathing remarks were filtered out, was this: while investigating the town, Sirius had the misfortune of coming into opposition with a little yellow vehicle, carrying two Muggles. While the car did not hit Sirius head-on (sparing him what could have been grievous injuries indeed) it did knock the wind out of him. He was made a fuss over by the Muggles for a bit, and he thought it prudent to "play nice," since he was in something of a vulnerable position. After taking a liking to him, the two Muggles who had hit him with the car decided to take him home with them. He was collared, fed, and left locked in a shed behind the house for the night. Late the next morning, the boy decided to take him into the front yard, where Severus and Remus found him -- tied to a tree on the rope leash.

Sirius was a clever enough storyteller (and Severus a willing enough interrupter) to make the tale last nearly two hours, after which Remus readily suggested that they call it a night. He gave Severus a questioning look when the man stood up to pass him. It was returned with a glower that was clearly meant to warn Remus away from the bedroom that night. He sighed, and helped Sirius do the dishes. They spoke for a while, before sleeping. While Remus wanted to discuss the situation with Severus, he respected the fact that Sirius did not. Snape was not mentioned at all.

It was four days before any of them ventured out of the cabin again, and then Remus insisted that they all go together. Every morning of those four, Remus would rise early to help Severus with breakfast. And every night, he went to bed alone. It was beginning to vex him to the point of forgetting the whole thing. The day after the trip for supplies, Remus didn't bother getting up early. Nor did he ask -- verbally or otherwise -- if he could share Snape's bed with him. He didn't really think that this tactic would draw Severus out of his shell, but it seemed better than a lot of wasted effort. It would be a week since Sirius' adventure before the subject of sleeping arrangements was picked up again.

It started with a letter from Dumbledore. Remus never got to read the letter himself. The owl came while they were eating breakfast at eight thirty in the morning, and by ten Sirius had gone -- with a promise to be back in a day or two. That robbed Remus of his best distraction, in the form of his best friend. He now had no choice but to turn to Severus for company.

He spent the day watching Severus busy himself with small, unnecessary tasks. All of his attempts at pleasant conversation were cut short by Snape's sharp tongue. Remus couldn't be sure, but he thought the Potions master was being even more hostile than usual. It was late afternoon when he began to wonder if, perhaps, Severus was hurt that Remus had held off his advances for a few days. He chuckled into his teacup, and waited patiently for Severus to sweep into the kitchen before asking. "You seem irritated, lately, Severus. Are you not sleeping well?"

"I thought you had finally gotten over your . . . obsession with my sleeping habits." Snape looked directly at him as he spoke, and Remus had the absurd feeling that he was being sized up. "What are you grinning about, Lupin?"

"You noticed that I stopped bothering you about them. That's all."

"I was grateful that you had. I should have known that it would be a short-lived peace." Severus sat down at the table, across from him.

Shrugging, Remus pointed out, "You know, I wouldn't have to ask again if you'd let me sleep with you."

"No." The expected reply came swiftly, but Severus was a lot more sociable, afterwards. Remus noticed, and made a mental note not to shirk his duties again. He asked at least once a day if Severus wanted company in his bed, and Severus always answered in the negative. Remus started trying different tactics, especially after Sirius returned. He tried meaningful, hopeful looks, he tried rephrasing the question at least ten different ways, he tried writing notes . . . And he began to think that Severus got some great enjoyment from rejecting him time and time again. Remus couldn't exactly pretend that he wasn't enjoying the game himself, but he would like to know if there was any chance of his winning -- just once. Soon the unique and loathsome smell of the wolfsbane potion was back in the air of the cabin. Nearly a month had passed since Severus had come to live with them, and Remus was nowhere nearer to his goal. It was almost enough to be discouraging, but Remus was not a man who was going to be discouraged easily. And the potion gave him an idea.

"What do you mean, no, Lupin?"

"I'm not taking it." It was a bluff, of course, but there was a chance that Severus might not catch on to that.

"You need to."

"I don't."

Severus studied him, and Remus endured the scrutiny with a steady gaze of his own. He wasn't going to let Severus sense weakness. Snape set the smoking goblet down and sighed. "I know that you dislike the taste --"

"It's disgusting. But the taste isn't why I'm refusing. I really don't see the point anymore."

Severus sat down to deliver another piercing stare, this time at eye level. ". . . What is this, Lupin?"

"Why should I bother trying to stay even a little bit human during the full moon if --"

"Ungrateful monster!"

"-- You don't think me human enough to sleep in the same room with you?" Remus finished the calm delivery, and sat back in his chair to wait for a reaction. Snape's expression told him that he must have struck a nerve, or made some impact at the very least. Remus was almost proud of himself.

"Is this an ultimatum, Lupin? You won't drink the potion until I consent to sleep with you?" What pride Remus had sank a little at those words. He felt deflated. Defeated, even when he was the one making the rules.

"No, Severus." Remus reached for the goblet and drank the potion in a few practiced gulps, wincing with each, before speaking softly. "You know I would never endanger you . . . or anyone . . . deliberately, Severus. At least, you better know that. I just want to know why . . . is that the reason?"

"No, Lupin. I do recognize that you are . . . mostly . . . human. And I do not fear that you'll turn into a werewolf in my bed, at random."

"What are you afraid of, then? It can't all be stubborn pride." Or could it? Snape was a remarkably stubborn man.

And one who also didn't like to admit weaknesses. Remus kept himself from rolling his eyes at the way Severus tensed and glared at his question. The answering hiss left no room for argument. "Nothing."

"Prove it." Remus smiled, and saw the question in Snape's raised brow before it had to be voiced. "Let me stay with you tonight."

Remus wasn't holding his breath. Nor was he particularly on edge, waiting for the response. Even when it came, he barely blinked over it. He had every right to be skeptical -- it couldn't possibly be this easy. But Severus, while he didn't look exactly thrilled, seemed to be serious enough. ". . . Fine." The rest of the day was charged with a dull current of electricity. Remus felt anticipation, but he was more aware of a sense of resolution -- at last, they were making progress. He was not sure how to best forewarn Sirius, so it was left to chance. When Severus retired after dinner, Remus helped Sirius clean up and then followed the Potions master. It was very unlikely Sirius would want to ask any questions about it. Were it not for the somber feel to the air, Remus would have laughed out loud at the absurdity of the situation. They dressed for bed in separated rooms; Severus taking refuge in the bathroom for a while before reappearing. Nothing was said, save for a "Goodnight, Severus" on Remus' part and a curt nod on Snape's. The choreography that surrounded getting into bed was a little clumsy, but could have been much moreso. Remus chose a side, Severus waited for him to settle before taking the other. They lay in the dark with their backs to each other for a long time. Remus had no idea what Snape was doing, but he was grinning at the wall for most of it, himself. The tension was a pleasant one, and Remus didn't bother even attempting sleep for at least an hour. Even then, the smallest shift of the mattress would put him on alert again. His ears insisted on catching every sound -- be it a change in breathing pattern or the sound of cloth sliding against cloth. The breaths coming from his bed-partner were always shallow enough for Remus to be certain that any movement on his part would wake Severus immediately, so he endeavored to keep very still.

It was very fortunate that he had made that resolve, otherwise he might have jumped completely out of his skin when the man beside him shifted, and a hand brushed his arm. While he managed to swallow that particular urge, Remus could do nothing to keep his breath from catching in his throat and his eyes from widening. He was sure Severus was still sleeping. The man probably had no idea that he had turned in his sleep. Everyone -- especially light sleepers -- shifted to some degree. And as the night wore on there were more innocent movements. Still . . . Remus couldn't help but wonder if the accidental touches weren't more than just that. A very distinct hope that they had more meaning began to develop, and he became more conscious of that as the hours passed. The more conscious of it he got, the more excruciating it became. Here was Severus Snape, possibly making a wordless declaration of love by letting a hand rest lightly on Remus' side, and the man was completely oblivious to both the gesture and its effects. Snape would deny it, Remus knew. He might not even admit to moving in his sleep, and try to say that -- if there had been any contact -- it had been Remus who had made it. Not wanting to hear that, and feeling that he had lain enough of his own emotions out on the table as it was, Remus knew that he could never bring it up. Because of that, he found little joy in the hand on his side after the initial rush, and he felt more than a little cheated.

He was not surprised to find that Snape was gone when he woke. Severus had slept most of the night, and Remus could only manage after the hand had went away -- which had not been long before sunrise, this morning. When he did get out of bed he found that breakfast was already on its way to becoming a memory. There was food left out for him, but it was stone cold when he got to it and needed to be reheated before it could be considered edible. Sirius was sitting next to the radio, with his forehead propped up lazily on a fist. It was the same position he had taken years ago when he slept through a particularly boring lecture, and it made Remus chuckle to see it again.

He near Sirius at the table with his food, only half-listening to the radio, himself. As he ate, he watched the forehead begin to slide off of the fist, which caused Sirius to jerk back awake and notice that he had company. Remus grinned. "You look tired, Padfoot."

"Had trouble sleeping." There was a sleepy groan, a rather loud stretch, and then Remus found himself being looked at rather acutely.

"I'm sorry to hear it."

"Don't be." Sirius stretched again. "Wasn't your fault. I didn't hear a thing last night. You were quiet."

It wasn't until Remus had finished swallowing a bite of toast that he realized what Sirius meant by that. "I wasn't worried that you had. We didn't . . . do anything."

"You didn't?"

The disbelief in his friend's eyes was chafing, but Remus just gave him a tired, almost apologetic smile. "No, we didn't. And we probably won't for some time."

"Oh. All right, then." Remus was allowed to finish his breakfast in peace, but he somehow thought that Sirius was still paying no attention whatsoever to the radio. He was debating whether or not Sirius would notice if he just reached over and flicked it off when Sirius spoke again, as though there hadn't just been a fifteen-minute pause in the conversation. "Are you not . . . I mean, I couldn't see how you could be attracted to . . . Well."

Remus raised his brows. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

First, Sirius winced a little, and then he looked around as if to check to make absolutely sure that Snape was not within hearing distance. He sighed. "If . . . you . . . want to talk to someone about it . . . I just thought . . . well, I'm your friend, aren't I?"

"You are." Remus felt a rush of gratitude; he did want to talk to someone about it. But he didn't want to force Sirius to discuss a subject he was uncomfortable with. "And I might have come to you to talk about it, but I know how much this all bothers you --"

"I can take it. I mean . . . er." Sirius shrugged. "I'm not so bothered that you can't talk to me if you need to."

"Thank you, Sirius. That means a lot to me."

" . . . Well, then?" Sirius had the look of a man who was about to do something unpleasant, and wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. It was funny, but Remus stopped himself from chuckling again by telling himself that was exactly how Sirius probably felt right now. He took the opportunity to check for himself that Snape wasn't there, discreetly.

"I am attracted to Severus. I just . . . want to make sure that our relationship doesn't end up being based on sex."

Perhaps it was the word "sex" coupled with Snape's name in the same sentence that made Sirius' face twist as though he'd swallowed something nasty. "Have you ever --"

"No." Remus wanted to put his friend somewhat at ease. Sirius did look a little relieved, and didn't ask for any elaboration. He just sat, mulling over this new information.

When Sirius spoke again, Remus could no longer read his facial expression. He thought it was a thoughtful one, but it might have been guarded. He wasn't sure. And all theories flew out the window when Sirius uttered the words, "You know, you probably should."

It was unexpected, and Remus needed recovery time. ". . . Come again?"

Sirius looked like he might need some time to recover, as well. "It's not . . . I don't condone Snape and . . . I just, I'm just saying that if it were someone else . . . that you were with, I'd suggest . . . Okay, look. Yeah, good sex can make a relationship -- and you don't want it to be based on that if it's going to be at all . . ." Sirius made another face, here. "Lasting. But, believe me, bad sex can kill one just as fast. You should at least find out if you're . . . at all . . .into . . . I mean, before you get too involved, right?"

Remus digested that. At first he thought that maybe Sirius was hoping that he would discover Snape was terrible in bed, and call off the relationship. Or maybe that he would decide that he was a heterosexual, after all. Remus didn't place a whole lot of importance on sex, however. He wouldn't overlook or abandon someone just because he or she wasn't the world's best lover. Besides, he thought, Severus seems to be skilled enough . . . Remus smiled. "I'm not worried about it."

The second it was said, Remus knew it was a lie. He hadn't been concerned about it before now, no, but his mind was fast embracing the idea. What if Severus cared? For Remus it would be completely unknown territory . . . and first times were often nothing more than awkward, whatever the storybooks would like people to believe. There had been nearly a decade for him to fall out of practice with intimacy. That left Remus with a very high likelihood of being . . . disappointing, in bed. Yes, Remus began to worry. If nothing else, the anxiety over possibly disappointing Snape would ensure that he couldn't . . . perform . . . when the moment came. He decided that he could put it off as long as possible -- hopefully until Severus had grown to like having him around, at least enough to overlook a mediocre-at-best sex life.

Sirius nodded. "Just thought I'd make a point."

"Thank you. It's a valid point . . . I'd like to think that Severus has different priorities, though." Remus wasn't sure, however. Snape had been offering -- and in the one instance pressing -- sexual favors before he would allow Remus to stay the night with him, after all. Could he have been following the same line of logic as Sirius? Did he originally want to find out if they were compatible, sexually, before investing anything more substantial? Remus knew better than to go ask Severus outright. Certainly not now, with the full moon so close at hand. If Snape was troubled by the lack of sex in their relationship thus far, he hadn't shown it. Then again, Severus wasn't wont to put many of his inner thoughts on display.

Sirius sat back in his chair. "You're the one whose standards are being lowered by this relationship."

"Do tell." Severus had come into the room. Remus pivoted in the chair to look at him, before turning back to Sirius, raising his eyebrows, and hazarding a smile.

It was only returned half-way. "We were just talking about you, Snape. But you knew that. Have you been standing outside of the room long, waiting for a good moment to make an entrance?"

"There was no need. And rarely do you speak of anything but me, Black. I'm beginning to worry that you're obsessed."

Sirius made a rude gesture which Severus ignored entirely, and stood up. "As I was saying, Moony, you could do a lot better."

Remus bit his lip, glancing over at Severus, nervously. The man was filling something in the sink, and didn't seem to be paying attention. Which meant that he was probably listening very closely to every word. Remus shrugged. "I wouldn't want to, even if that is true. So you can stop saying it."

"All right." Sirius grinned. Snape had not reacted at all; his back was turned them both now, and he was adding something to the water he had drawn. "But it is true."

Smiling, Remus placed his chin in a hand, thoughtfully. "Maybe you just want me to give up so you can have Severus to yourself . . ."

"Ugh. Not funny." Sirius visibly blanched. He then grimaced and shook his head, overdramatically. "I mean, really."

"I believe Black's distaste for me is sincere." Severus hadn't even turned his head to speak. He continued to add things to his water, with his back turned. "But he may have . . . other undeclared affections."

Remus really didn't want to have this conversation, but Sirius had already perked up to it. "Do I sense a touch of jealousy, there, Snape? A bit insecure, are we?"

Severus snorted, and then said matter-of-factly, "No."

"And he shouldn't be."

"Lupin, really, if I thought I needed a defense I'd ask for it."

Remus sighed. You even hate the ones on your side, Severus? "Nobody should be jealous of anyone here, is all."

Sirius tilted his head, giving Remus a thoughtful look. "You seem touchy today, Moony."

"I didn't sleep well." Remus rubbed his temples, commanding the headache which threatened to form just behind them to go away. He hoped that Sirius would know better than to mention his change in sleeping arrangements. As it turned out, Sirius did. The man nodded, said something commiserating and left the kitchen. Remus turned off the radio and savored the quiet which followed.

He didn't get the chance to savor it for very long. "I could make you a sleeping draught, Lupin, if you are having trouble. Or perhaps you would be more comfortable in a bed to yourself . . ."

Remus felt his shoulders slump a little, but he looked up at Snape and smiled as he spoke. "That is my bed, Severus. I'm not letting you kick me out of it again."

The eyebrow lifted as he knew it would, but there was also a genuine smile that looked so out of place with those hawkish features that at first Remus didn't even recognize it for what it was. Once he did, his blossoming headache melted in a warm rush of emotion. He stood up, but before he could take the first step towards closing the distance between him and Severus, the other man had turned back to the sink. Not to be entirely thwarted, Remus picked up his plate and approached anyway. Trying to avert tension, he lay a hand lightly on Snape's shoulder to let the man know who was behind him. Severus tensed anyway, and allowed Remus to reach around him to rinse the plate off. Neither spoke, but Remus left the kitchen with his spirit much uplifted.

"You win." Sirius lifted his hands and scooted back from the chessboard. "I surrender."

Remus chuckled and shifted in his seat. "Do you play, Severus?"

Snape had been reading on the other side of the room, and was thus conveniently at hand to be asked into a game of chess, Remus decided. He could plainly see that Severus was trying to look ominous in his dark corner, but there was always a chance. Snape's eyes lifted from the pages and stared at them in contemplation. Remus thought he saw distrust, too, and wanted to assure Severus that it wasn't a joke; he was just being invited to join in. Such assertions would only cause anger and bitter embarrassment, though, so Remus just waited patiently for an answer. It came haltingly. "Not for some time."

"Would you care to? I think Sirius has had enough, but I'm up for another game." Snape was cleverly able to combine a shrug, a smirk and a nod into one smooth gesture which saw him out of his seat. Sirius stood as Severus came to replace him, surrendering the chair. The board was set up and the game was begun. An hour into it, Sirius decided it cried out for a wager.

"A wager?" Remus wasn't taking his eyes off of the game: he was trying to watch all of the pieces on the board at the same time; it simply wasn't possibly to try and include a person or two in there as well. Still, it was impolite to ignore conversation.

"Exactly." Sirius grinned. "A friendly wager."

"I don't know what I'd wager, Sirius, so I'm going to pass."

But Sirius was near impossible to put off of an idea once he'd had it. "Snape, I'd bet Moony can check you before the night's out. Care to lay a wager?"

Remus did not have to be looking to know that Severus was sneering -- it was practically audible. "Name your stakes, Black."

"Checkmate." It was four more hours before Remus succumbed to a particularly complex trap. He felt that he had given Severus a good match, and was contented to admit defeat to a worthy opponent. Sirius was not so cheerful, since he was going to be doing three weeks' worth of chores -- including the doleful task of keeping Snape's cauldron in perfect condition -- while wearing his "Snuffles" collar.

It was really Sirius' own fault, for raising the stakes midway through the game. He could have avoided the collar, otherwise. Remus chuckled to himself as he dressed for bed. It had been the first time Severus had not been the first to leave the kitchen, preferring to stay and savor the sight of Sirius doing dishes in a dog collar. Remus ran a hand through his hair and thought about that. If he weren't so sure that Severus was doing it out of long-lived spite towards Sirius, Remus would be worried about the connotations of his having Sirius doing collared slave-labor. That Severus had stayed behind to watch for a while was . . . well, it was rather lewd of him.

Fortunately, Sirius either finished the dishes quickly or Severus tired of playing voyeur, because Snape was not long at joining Remus in the bedroom. Remus greeted him with a bright smile. "The collar was a nice touch."

Severus paused. "He deserved to be humbled. He's a haughty bastard."

Remus shook his head; the same had been said, and could still be said, about Severus himself. "Well, it was kind of you not to humiliate him too much. You could have included the leash."

Snape snorted. "That would have been excessive, wouldn't it?"

"He did want you to cut your hair." Remus pointed out.

"I believe he wanted to cut it, himself." Severus shrugged. "I was in no danger of losing."

Remus laughed. "Who's a haughty bastard, again? I'm afraid I'll have to demand a rematch, Severus. To defend my pride."

Snape nodded and waved a hand at him in vague acknowledgment, collecting a nightshirt and leaving the room to change in the bathroom. Remus grinned. The man really was delightfully infuriating. Later that night, Remus made it a point not to turn his back to Severus after they had settled. If Snape turned around while sleeping again, Remus wanted to be facing him.

Severus did turn, and the movement woke Remus from his doze. His eyes strained to make out any features in the dark. Shreds of moonlight had managed their way into the room through the thick curtains, but they were very dim and of little assistance. Remus could see the outline of hair, and make out the jaw. The rest of Severus was completely amorphous, so Remus was obliged to fill in lines from memory. He managed the face well enough, and was visualizing the hands in his mind's eye when he felt one of them touch against his elbow. He was carefully reaching out to return the brush -- safely over the blankets, so as not to stir Severus -- when he caught the tell-tale glitter against the shady black.

Snape's eyes were open. He was awake. And he was sure to have noticed that Remus was also awake; his hand still hovering in the darkness with shy indecision. He chose to finish the gesture, and the sharp intake of breath from inches away told him that he had caught Severus in an unguarded moment. Such moments were going to be rare, with a man like Snape, and Remus knew better than to waste it. It was just a kiss in the dark, albeit one long overdue. There were no fireworks, or sudden floods of hitherto restrained passion. It might have been a surrender, of sorts, or an acceptance, but it was a timid one at best, and it did not last very long. A soft kiss in the dark with dry lips, and then Severus turned away.

Shortly before falling asleep, Remus reached over to run the back of his hand lightly along Severus' spine, through the nightshirt. The material wasn't quite soft enough to be reminiscent of fairy wings, but imagination could more than make up for the difference. Remus smiled, knowing how irritated Severus would be if he ever found out just how much Remus had come to treasure that memory. Not that it mattered; after all, he never intended to tell.