A hazy, MWPP, summer sunset.
"Look outside - I know that you'll
Recognize it's summertime"
Sirius has probably never loved summer more than he does right now.
He and Remus sit on a hill near James' house and do nothing. It's not just any kind of nothing. It's the kind of nothing that requires freedom and green grass. The kind that is best done on a humid, sunny day. It's mid-afternoon, and it's perfect. Sweat rolls down Sirius's back, and he doesn't care.
The tree behind them offers shade from the unforgiving sun. It's not incredibly tall, not incredibly short. It's the perfect shade tree for a couple of teenage boys on a day like this. From their spot, there's a lovely view of the entire town, and views like this can make you feel above it all. Above the responsibility, the work, the suffering. Above family expectations. From right here, you can be as lazy as you want, careless as you want. You're above it all.
James and Peter are elsewhere (probably planning the next dungbomb target), and Remus just stares out at the view. He leans back on his hands, and Sirius absently wonders if his elbows will get tired. Sirius simply lays down (he doesn't have the energy to maintain a sitting position) beside him and watches. It's not unpleasant by any means, and during the school year, there's rarely a moment when Remus is this unguarded and open. Occasionally, he looks up and watches the sunlight filter through green leaves, and he absently wonders if he can go blind from staring at it. He squints a bit (it's only mid-afternoon, after all, when everything is bright and hot). Next to him, Remus looks like he may be deep in thought and Sirius doesn't have the heart or the energy to pull him out of it.
Moments like this can't be measured in simple seconds, minutes, or hours. You tell the time by the subtle changes, like the sun getting into your eyes when it wasn't there before, an ant climbing up your arm, or a cool breeze picking up.
Sirius welcomes the relief of the gust of cooling air. There's nothing better than the feel of fresh air on a hazy, summer day. He just lifts up one arm high enough to feel the breeze. It's relaxing, and his brain slips into a half-sleep. He watches the wind blow through Remus's hair in slow motion. Each strand seems to glow in the brilliant light. He wants to reach out with his hand to touch it, but his arm is too heavy and the sight is too beautiful to disturb. The world around him fades into a gentle haze. Remus shifts a bit and bumps his hip against Sirius's.
Sirius tries sitting up slowly, exaggerating the gentle pain that runs down his back and the feel of the blood rushing from his head. Remus looks over with some curiosity, but turns back to his town-watching after checking on Sirius's health. Sirius grins at him, and focuses his attention to the sight of Godric's Hollow as well, the town bathed in the increasingly orange light. He likes it. The heat has seeped into his bones, but he doesn't mind the sweat, not when it's accompanied with the best kind of laziness.
On a whim, Sirius leans over and hugs Remus from behind, resting his head on Remus's shoulder. It's easy and platonic, though their skin occasionally sticks together in the humidity and heat. From his vantage point, he attempts to search out the thing that has captured Remus's attention. He doesn't find it. "Wotcha thinking, Moony?" Remus just shrugs, and Sirius feels it more than sees it.
"I bet it involves sweets." Remus shakes his head. His hair tickles Sirius's face and nose.
"James and Peter?" Another shake of his head. "Then what?"
"This." Remus twists easily out of Sirius's grip and tackles him. The air leaves Sirius's lungs with a /oof/, and he feels dazed for a second as Remus leans over him. His arms are pinned down in a firm grip.
The lowering sun filters through Remus's hanging dirty blond hair, turning it red at the edges. His face is hidden in shadow, and Sirius can't read his expression. Remus's still English-pale skin glows golden, making him look only vaguely real. Sirius doesn't move, can't move. He opens his mouth slowly to say something, not sure what, but Remus leans over and places his lips on Sirius's with a deliberate gentleness. When he pulls back, Sirius still can't see his expression. Sirius smiles though, and it's a warm-fuzzy one, though Sirius has always despised that term. He thinks he sees a flash of a grin from Remus, who leans in again. This time, Sirius responds.
When Remus leans back after a few minutes, his relaxed smile becomes visible in the dying sunlight. Sirius doesn't sit up. He just lies there and admires the way the orange creeps into the encroaching night, the stars and the sun sharing space in the evening sky.
"Did you see his face?" The voice nearly breaks through the fog that's currently residing in Sirius's brain. Nearly.
"It was the best thing I've seen since McGonagall caught us charming her grading quill."
"I can't believe Padfoot and Moony missed it."
James and Peter are still full of energy as they come up the hill. Their faces are bright with pride and mischief. There's nothing more satisfying than a prank gone right. Sirius is almost sad to have stayed. He pulls himself up into a sitting position again. A proper position to greet returning heroes. Remus waves to the two other Marauders, turns, and gives Sirius a brilliantly warm smile. Sirius can't help but answer it.
"You wankers done yet?" he calls out to Messrs Prongs and Wormtail.
"You're going to be so jealous, Sirius," James yells back. "It was the best we've done in a while." His grin lights up the early evening.
"I'm sure we will," Remus says quietly. He's grinning as well, they all are.
"What did you poofters get up to?"
Sirius and Remus share a look and grin before Sirius says, "Nothing."