Vera
It isn't that Sirius is not a morning person. Because Sirius is sort of an every time person, he is one of those disgustingly energetic people who can be bounding at four in the morning after sleeping only three hours the night before. It's only that right after he has woken up, regardless of when this is as Sirius sleeps when his body finally collapses on him and not a moment before, which made for some interesting nap time places like the time they found him asleep draped over a gargoyle outside a third story window...any way the point is, he's always a bit strange right when he wakes up. Well, a bit stranger then usual in any case.
Like right now he is leaning over his plate carefully shoveling food into his mouth and in between chewing he is muttering. Remus is fairly sure it is something about an epic battle between bread and tea. Personally, he's voting for the bread, but doesn't dare to enter there morning rambles because he's never quite sure where they will take them and some of their conversations have landed so far into the bizarre that he has trouble adjusting to reality again.
James, who is NOT a morning person, listens to Sirius rumbles and occasionally interjects things. James speaks Sirius-ese fluently in a way that Remus, when pressed to admit it, is envious of. The two of them are in sync with each other, but it is nearly impossible to retain negative emotions towards James for Remus. Despite his casual cruelty towards others, he has never been anything, but unfailingly kind to Remus. When he and Sirius had begun to be together in a sense greater then friendship, James hadn't let the initial awkwardness last, but blasted through it until they all felt comfortable again.
"He's killed it." Sirius pronounces suddenly to James and the tousled black hair flopped around in agreement.
"Moony, what did that piece of toast ever do to you?"
Remus looks at his plate to find the slice of toast he'd been intending to consume was now little more then a soppy pile of strips. He's been tearing again, something he thought he'd left behind with pre-adolecense. It is an unconscious thing, he gets lost in his thoughts and whatever is at hand winds up in this neat pile of strips as if even in destruction he can't bear a mess. It's embarrassing.
"It said nasty things about my Mum." He replies equably, knowing that at this point in the day that will be acceptable answer.
A hand is suddenly on his thigh, warm and a slight weight. Letting him know that the behavior has been noted and will be called into question at a later date. This used to be an alarming thought, but now warms him. Sirius worries about him in this lovely not at all parental way. He thinks about how hard Sirius worked to get him to accept this small touches and he wants to get a Time Turner and smack his younger self. What had he been so afraid of? It seems a long way off now and fuzzy, the fear which loomed nameless and ridiculous in the back of his mind.
Now the warm pressure improves his outlook on the day considerably. Remus is a morning person, against all reason. When the moon days have passed and he's done making up for lost sleep, he's awake before dawn. It had been awful at home, the house so quiet and still, he would read a book for hours in the growing light, having terrible thoughts that perhaps his parents had been murdered in the night or been kidnapped and he would have to fend for himself.
At school he never has those awful early morning thoughts because Sirius is nearly always awake as well. They're both terrible insomniacs and that is what they shared first. Sleepless at eleven they spent long nights playing silly games and even setting up the small pranks that Remus did not feel too bad about and James wouldn't mind missing.
Slowly, he curves his hand over Sirius', fingertips seeking out the familiar contours of his hand. He is happier then he has ever been at moments like these. After sex, they curl around each other and have long rambling conversations and he loves that too, but it's these odd moments, the ones that just make room for themselves. Hands under the breakfast table, innuendo over a cauldron in Potions and right in the middle of group discussion when they are planning or something else, there are these sidelong looks...
Remus is almost positive that Sirius never thinks about him this way. Stupid long rambling thoughts that are hopelessly and ridiculously romantic. It used to bother him, but he thinks now that the very fact that Sirius doesn't is a sign of how good things are. The good things in his life, Sirius sort of consumes them whole with no analysis. He appreciates good things, devours them in excess, he doesn't sit around thinking about them. It's not his way. It's the bad things that can sink Sirius into deep thought, though he'd deny it.
Impulsively, he rests his head temporarily on the other boy's shoulder, squeezing his hand and then kisses him quickly on the cheek, before releasing him entirely. Sirius looks over at him with the curve of a smile one lip and hands him a fresh piece of toast.
"This one thinks your mum is quite fit."
"Who won?" He asks as he takes it gratefully and eats it this time in the small nibbling bites he prefers.
"Won what?"
"The bread versus tea battle?"
"Oh, do try and pretend you're listening, Mr. Lupin." James says in his best McGonagall voice. "We've moved onto cheeses while you were having a Deep Thought."
Eating his toast with one hand, keeping the other entwined with Sirius', Remus argues for Stilton, is roundly beaten by cheddar and mozzarella and for a while, doesn't think of anything all except that he is happy.
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