#words mean so much to me (obviously actions speak louder than words and blah blah blah) but I’ll be thinking about sweet words for YEARS

[cigvrettedvet]

rue & arden.

       being with rue was pure bliss, and had simply added an element to their already inseparable friendship that was something she’d now never be okay giving up. when it came to them, arden only wanted to grow, to move forward, and she’d hoped rue felt the same way. but they’d been so vague about the whole ‘asking out’ thing that it still rang clear throughout her head and she couldn’t shake it. “so,” arden began sweetly, situating herself into the other’s lap and entangling her arms around their neck. “when you mentioned the whole asking out blah blah blah, were you trying to ask me on a date? or is this strictly a no date zone? just curious how this is all playing out in that brilliant, remarkable brain of yours.” she playfully pressed their foreheads together before pressing a kiss to rue’s lips, biting the lower one playfully before pulling back. “which one’s bound again?” rue definitely was more of a film buff than she was, which was why they typically provided the entertainment on movie nights. “you’re perfect too, rue. and i swear on everything i’m not just saying that because you did. i mean every letter of that shockingly little word.” the girl grinned, knowing fully that falling for her best friend was going to cause her trouble, but she was letting it happen anyway.

          they should’ve known that arden would keep trying to figure out what they had meant when they’d ask her out. rue probably should’ve found a way to phrase it better since they had been partially joking. but they had also been serious too. they had entertained the idea of going out on a date with arden since forever. but again, rue had been too much of a coward to see it through. however, their joke had now started this conversation. “well . . .,” rue trails off for a moment, “i had been joking. sort of. like, i’d very much love to go out with you on a real date but only if you want to. if you were joking then we can totally pretend this never happened, okay?” rue was always doubting themselves, even if they acted like the most confident person on the planet. and while rue genuinely didn’t care what others thought about them, they did care about what arden thought though. the kiss between them, however, melts away all doubts and while surprised by arden biting their lower lip, they were more turned on by it than anything else. “oh, come on! how can you forget that one? it’s got crime and lesbians which automatically makes it the best film ever,” rue playfully argued, pretending to be annoyed when such an emotion wasn’t even possible with arden. rue couldn’t help but falter when arden had called her perfect. obviously, she knew that arden meant it. she probably did see them as perfect, but rue struggled to see what arden did. unsure of how to respond, rue simply leaned forward and kissed arden again - figuring her actions might speak louder than their words. deep inside though, they were panicking with how fast their relationship was starting to progress. while rue obviously wanted this, they were also beginning to become overwhelmed by it - also wondering if they deserved any of it or even arden herself.

[littleoldrachel]

Fifth chapter is up! Read it here on ao3, or here on ff.net, or under the cut.

***Shoutout to a real life angel @mysticalightwood for sending me the loveliest message about this lil thing and making a rubbish day so much better <3***

100 Ways to Say I Love You

Summary: In which actions speak louder than words, Sirius and Remus sort of fall in to a relationship, and even though neither of them have said those three all-important words, they both know it anyway.Or: 100 Ways to Say I Love You by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Previous |  chapter 5/100 - “I’ll walk you home.” | Next

Based on this post by p0ck3tf0x

Tw for mentions of anxiety, mentions of depression, some real intense self-hate, a blink and you'll miss it reference to past self harm, ANGST.

Remus plops himself down in to an armchair, hissing slightly as his muscles shriek in protest. Alice grimaces sympathetically from where she’s curled in her own squishy chair, and Lily drops in to the final seat with a sigh.

She raises her mug of almond-milk hot chocolate, and clinks it against the others’. “The three spoonies ride again!” Alice lets out a little whoop, jingling her silver ‘I’m epileptic!’ bracelet, and Remus smiles behind his cup, unable to match their enthusiasm, because his stomach is killing him. (His whole body is tender and fiery just beneath his skin, but the cramps are fierce and relentless. He surreptitiously cradles his hot mug against his belly; the heat that seeps through his shirt helps a little, but not enough. The chatter and buzz of the café are doing nothing to help his headache either, and he wants nothing more than to crawl in to his bed with a hot water bottle and stay there for the foreseeable future).

“How are y’all?” Lily asks, taking a huge bite of her Danish, and groaning around the mouthful. “This is fucking delicious.”

Alice shrugs a little. “Not terrible, الحمد الله. Haven’t tranced in like, a month?”

“That’s great,” murmurs Remus. “Did you get your meds adjusted?”

“Yeah, they’re better now, I’m less sleepy all the time. The weight gain’s a pain, but,” she pulls a face. “Every time I complain about it in front of my parents, I’m told that I should be grateful that they can even treat it, blah blah blah.”

Lily scoffs. “Spoken like a true Able.”

Alice makes a noise of agreement in her throat. “Anyway. How about you, Lils?”

Lily pulls a face, cramming the last of the pastry in to her mouth. “Had a bit of a flare last week. Also, J made his own ice cream – what a nerd, can you believe he makes his own? – and obviously, I couldn’t resist, and my UC did not appreciate that at all. But this week: so far, so good.”

“It’s only Monday,” Remus points out.

“And I am trying very hard to be positive. What’s gotten in to you, Mr Grumpy Guts?” Lily retorts.

Remus flushes a little guiltily (selfish, selfish, selfish). “Sorry… I’ve had this stomach ache for like four days, and everything hurts. I just – sorry.”

“Oh no, habibi, don’t do that,” Alice shakes her head, and Remus is momentarily distracted by the way her pink, glittery hijab sparkles under the warm, café lighting. “You’re absolutely allowed to be grumpy. Anyone would be.”

Lily nods in agreement. “We don’t have to apologise for our illnesses making us moody here, remember?” She stretches out a hand to Remus, and he smiles back at her, squeezing his fingers. “There’s something else the matter though,” she says, and her eyes narrow as she scrutinises him. “You look awful. And not in an I-can’t-stand-up-straight-and-shower-because-everything-hurts sort of way.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“She’s right,” chimes in Alice, and somewhere, beneath the pain in his gut, Remus feels the stirrings of panic, and even further below that, the churning shame-rejection-disappointment-sadness that he’s been suppressing for the last few days. “Uh oh, what’s that face?” She shuffles a little closer to him, laying a protective hand on his forearm. Remus takes a deep breath, staring down at his hot chocolate, and it trembles a little in his hands.

“I did something really fucking stupid.”

There’s a silence, and then Lily says – her voice low and urgent – “Remus, are we talking I’m hurting myself again kind of stupid, or I’m not taking my meds or – “

“No!” Remus says quickly, hating himself that these are even things that they have to worry about. “Nothing like that.” He feels Lily relax, and Alice lets out a barely-audible sigh, and the ball of self-loathing that wraps around his heart tightens a little more. “I… uh...” he runs a hand down his face, and whispers through his fingers, “I sort of kissed Sirius?”

“What?” Alice yelps, and Lily jolts, going rigid once more. “I have so many questions. When? Where? Sort of? What??”

Remus can’t meet their eyes, as he lowers his shaky hands, and begins twisting them anxiously, pinching at the skin on his wrist. “At the party thing. Last week.”

There’s another pause as they digest this. “Sort of?” Alice repeats. “What does that even mean?”

He lets out a sigh, feeling the guilt-shame-self-hatred writhing low in his belly, and a sharp pain twists through his stomach. (He deserved that, he deserves that and worse for fucking everything up. Sirius hasn’t texted or called in five days since it happened, and the thought of seeing him again makes him feel dizzy and nauseous with nerves… though there’s a smaller part of him that isn’t sure why he’s making this such a Big Deal – it’s not like he hasn’t kissed Sirius before; Sirius is affectionate, and they’ve been friends for long enough that this shouldn’t be causing such turmoil).

“We were kind of just… sitting next to each other, and then he squeezed my hand, and just… didn’t let go? And then I kissed his hand?” He goes to hide his face once more, but Alice catches his arm and holds it fast.

“You kissed his hand? What is this, the 1600s?”

Remus is burning – the pain in his stomach is a boiling, bubbling mess, the pain throughout his body sets his skin on fire, and now, the flush rises over his cheeks – hot, hot, hot with embarrassment.

“Lils, you’re being weirdly quiet,” Alice continues. “Any input?”

Lily has sat back in her chair, and is studying Remus, though not harshly. “This explains a lot,” she says eventually, and Remus’ already roiling stomach lurches.

“What do you mean?” he asks, a little too desperate and raw. “Has he said anything?”

“No,” Lily says carefully. “But he doesn’t have to. He’s been in a kind of… daze? J and I thought it was because of the new job – anxiety, you know? But this explains it.”

“Shit,” Remus murmurs. “Shit, shit, shit.” He draws his legs to his chest, curling up as small as his aching body will allow. (He wants to drop off the face of the planet, or sink in to a deep, dark hole, or fade entirely from existence-)

“Stop spiralling,” Lily says sharply. “It’s not a bad sort of daze. That’s why it didn’t add up. He’s… happy, I think?”

Remus looks at her disbelievingly. “Please don’t lie to me to make me feel better. Not about this-“

“Look,” Alice cuts in. “What did he say when you did it?”

Remus swallows and looks down. “Nothing… it was just silence and then I ran and I’ve ruined everything.” He buries his face in his knees, because he doesn’t have the courage to face either of them right now, and he especially doesn’t deserve their kindness.

“How have you ruined everything?” asks Lily calmly, and Remus snaps his head up incredulously.

“Are you kidding? Now he knows that I – that I – “

“Yes?” Alice says gently, when he tapers off.

“That I – hngh, never mind,” Remus can feel a lump in his throat, and the words are trapped beneath it, unable to escape. The burning sensations throughout his body have reached the backs of his eyes, but he refuses to cry – he will not cry. (This is why this is a Big Deal – this is what makes it different to any other time that Sirius has kissed him).

“Noooo, don’t do that.” Lily grabs his hand back, and strokes the back of it with her thumb reassuringly. “Go on.”

Remus wrenches his gaze to her face, and then feels an icy bucket of dread-horror-panic tip over him because she knew. The tears spill over his cheeks before he can stop them. “You knew,” he mumbles, “shit, shit, shit, is it that obvious?”

“Is what obvious?” persists Alice, taking his other hand.

“That I like Sirius!” Remus bursts out, and then shrinks in his seat as a couple of heads turn in his direction.

“Oh, praise the Lord!” Lily whispers, a smile splitting across her face.

“You finally admitted it!” Alice says, radiant with how wide she’s beaming.

Remus feels – overwhelmed. He’s horrified that this secret that he’s kept so close to his heart for so long was apparently blindingly obvious, he’s terrified by the implications of everyone knowing, he’s still a mess of guilt, shame, and embarrassment. The odd sense of relief at sharing this burden juxtaposes painfully with his utter panic that he’s shared this burden. It’s been his secret (or apparently not a secret, but still), and only his, for as long as he can remember – for weeks, months, years even, and a secret that’s outlasted every other crush he’s had on men, women, people just as kind, brave, smart, funny, gorgeous as Sirius.

(Except that there’s nobody quite like Sirius – not many people are capable of making Remus feel so good about himself just by being around them, not many people give him the confidence to feel like he can accomplish anything he puts his mind to – not many people make him feel like enough, just as he is. But Sirius does).

He doesn’t know what to do with this tidal wave of conflicting emotions, and he tries to suck in a shaky breath, to combat the tears that are trickling down his cheeks, but it’s like he’s lost all control.

“Shh shh shh, you’re alright,” Lily’s gentle voice cuts through his meltdown, and he’s startled to find that she’s moved directly in front of him, and is pulling him in to an embrace. He buries his face in to her shoulder – disoriented, but agonisingly aware that he needs to get a grip – and forces in a few calming breaths like his therapist has taught him. As Lily releases him, her face tense with concern, Alice presses a tissue in to fists that he didn’t realise were clenched.

“S-sorry,” he whispers, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, whilst still struggling with the whole even-breathing thing.

“We didn’t mean to push you,” Alice says, and Remus shakes his head a little too violently; it twinges sharply at the movement.

“It’s just been – a shitty week, and I’m loopy with the pain and – everything – I – argh,” Remus scrubs at his eyes, smearing the tears on his cheeks, and presses until he’s seeing stars. (Sirius is a star, his mind supplies unhelpfully, and he snaps his eyes open again). “I’m a fucking mess.”

“Yes,” says Lily, easing herself back in to her chair. “But we love you more than life itself. Now, we need to talk about this.”

“Whyyy?” Remus whines, hiding his face again, “I’m fine just burying my head in the sand and pretending it never happened.”

“I think we just saw that’s not true,” Alice says quietly.

“Agreed,” says Lily, “so. What’s so bad about Sirius knowing that you have Feelings for him?”

“Because nothing can ever happen and so it will make our friendship super weird – it’s already making our friendship weird, and-“

“Why can nothing ever happen?”

“Because he’s – everything,” Remus waves his hand, unable to explain quite what Sirius is – but knowing that Lily and Alice will understand anyway, because they adore Sirius just as much as he does. “And I’m-“ he gestures vaguely at himself, “this.”

Alice slaps his arm – gently, obviously, because she’s thoughtful and good and Remus loves her so much – and says sharply, “careful now. It sounded a lot like you were about to be down on yourself.”

Remus sighs, “I just mean that compared to him –“ Lily raises her eyebrows and Remus changes track sharply. “My life’s not going anywhere, and sometimes it feels like I have nothing going for me, and I know that’s not true, and I’m working on it, but I can’t help it, and – I just – Sirius deserves everything.”

When he finally looks up, he’s not entirely unsurprised to see Alice and Lily staring at him. What is surprising is the near unbearable sadness in their eyes.

Lily’s voice is heavy and a little tired, “one day, Remus, I swear to God, you will see yourself the way we all see you.”

“You deserve everything too,” Alice adds, the corners of her mouth tugging down uncharacteristically.

“Can we not?” Remus loves his friends – unquestionably, unshakeably; they are the best part of him, and he is frequently overwhelmed by the thought that these incredible, wonderful beings love him too. But sometimes it’s not a good overwhelming, and right now, he’s uncomfortable enough as it is, and any more of their unbounding affection, and he’s going to start crying again.

Lily makes a slightly frustrated noise, but lets it go, and Alice purses her lips a little. “Okay. So, ‘worst case scenario:’ Sirius knows that you have a crazy big crush on him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Remus frowns, because Alice and Lily are two of the smartest, fiercest women he knows, but they’re asking the most inane questions. “He gets weirded out, our friendship is ruined, it splits the group and everyone sides with Sirius.”

“Habibi, never.” Alice looks aghast. “If you really think that we would all abandon you over something like this, then we’re failing you as friends.”

“You are just as important to us as Sirius,” Lily says firmly, and Remus screws his eyes shut. (He’s screwing this up, just like he’s screwed up his friendship with Sirius. He doesn’t want to talk about his shitty self-worth, he doesn’t want to have to explain to them all the reasons why Sirius will absolutely never reciprocate his feelings; all he wants is to curl up in bed with a hot-water bottle and feel sorry for himself).

He’s vaguely aware that Lily and Alice are silently communicating whilst his eyes are shut – probably in BSL, James paid for everybody to have classes the moment Peter joined their group – and he’s resigning himself to yet another pep talk about how loved he is, but –

“Okay, what if this is a classic example of your anxiety working everything up, and he doesn’t actually know, and everything stays the same?”

Remus opens his eyes in surprise. “That’d be the best solution,” he says, like it’s obvious, because that would be ideal, right? That’s what he wants, isn’t it?

There’s a pause, and Alice and Lily exchange another Look, and Remus realises he’s missing something significant. He sort of wants to ask what it is, but his stomach is hurting worse and worse by the second, this conversation is draining more and more of his energy – not a good sign considering he has work later.

“I promise we’ll drop this if you promise us that you’ll talk to him,” Lily says finally.

“Soon,” adds Alice.

The thought of hashing all this out with Sirius makes Remus’ anxiety spike, and his head spins a little even as he finds himself nodding in agreement. It seems to satisfy his friends for the time being though, because the conversation shifts to their jobs – Lily and Alice take lead of the conversation, whilst Remus leans back in the armchair, focusing on breathing through his nerves and massaging his stomach through the pain. (Neither do much to ease his suffering).

He loses track of time – it’s only Alice nudging him and reminding him that he needs to get going for work that forces him to his feet.

“Thank you for putting up with me,” he says, pulling his arms around himself, and his heart warm a little as the two of them scoff.

“We love you so much, sweetheart,” Lily murmurs before he leaves, and he nods, pecking her cheek, before turning to Alice.

“Don’t lose hope. Things will work out, إن شاء الله,” she presses a kiss to his other cheek, holds him tight in her embrace for a moment longer than necessary.

(His friends are the best things in his life; he will never stop being grateful to them, and he can only pray that this thing with Sirius isn’t about to fuck it all up, because it will tear him apart if it does).

It’s not a long shift – only four or so hours, but Tom tries to convince him twice to go home in that time – and every time he catches sight of his reflection in the pint glasses, he has to resist a shudder, because he’s all blotchy and clammy and a fucking mess. He has a minor moment of panic when his brain is too foggy to comprehend a customer’s order, but Tom rescues him (“if you won’t go home, lad, then you’re gonna at least take a fuckin’ break,” and Remus spends the entire fifteen minutes in the breakroom curled in a ball on the floor).

Closing finally – finally – arrives, the last of the regulars slope off, and Remus begins wiping down the tables and bar top, moving slowly to accommodate his aching everything. The soft music – usually obscured by the noise and bustle of the pub – drifts over the empty room, and he’s so fucking tired.

“Can I get a drink?”

“We’re closed,” says Remus automatically, before he tenses as he recognises the voice. Sirius is leaning across the bar with his playful smirk, and he looks – fantastic, of course he does. (And Remus is pale and sweating with how much pain he’s in, and the bags under his eyes are now taking up most of his face, he looks – dreadful, of course he does).

“Hey,” says Sirius, his smirk fading in to something a little more cautious, and his gaze flickers over Remus concernedly.

“Hi,” Remus says, because, in spite of Alice and Lily’s best efforts to prepare him for this moment, he doesn’t have a fucking clue what to do now that he’s actually face-to-face with Sirius.

Sirius clears his throat, clearly just as aware of the awkwardness as Remus. “How’ve you been? S’been a while.”

Remus grips the underside of the bar for support, feeling a little weak with panic. He knows Sirius is anxious too – he’s picking at his cuff with one hand, and he keeps adjusting his stance from one leg to another, and Remus doesn’t know what to say.

“Oh… uh, I mean, you know, busy…” he winces at his own excuses, looks down at the glasses he’s wiping dry, desperate for some sort of distraction. “How have you been?” He chances a glance back up at Sirius.

He’s frowning, studying Remus – taking in the way his hands are shaking slightly with the effort of putting the glasses away, at the way he’s cradling his stomach with his arm. He takes a breath, and meets Remus’ eyes squarely. “Not that great. Anxious as heck. Missed you,” he chuckles self-consciously.

Remus’ throat is dry and his stomach is churning, but if Sirius can be brave enough to be honest, then fuck it, so can he. He swallows, “I missed you too.”

“Then why didn’t you text? Or call, or something?” Sirius blurts, and the way his eyes widen shows that he didn’t mean to say that out loud. Remus sees Sirius’ fingers clench around his thigh – a sure-fire sign that he is Anxious -  and his fingers itch with the urge to reach out and take it, to help in some way. But he can’t. He doesn’t have that right.

He can’t hold Sirius’ gaze any longer. He looks away, breathing through his own anxiety, and forces himself to be honest. “I think – I – uh, I made things weird between us, didn’t I?” His chest tightens painfully as he admits it out loud, hate-guilt-shame tearing through him.

“What makes you say that?” Sirius’ voice is careful and measured, and Remus wants to scream, because Sirius is actually going to make him say it – he can’t he can’t he can’t –

He can’t do it. Lying to Sirius makes him feel like the scum of the Earth – he is the scum of the Earth for even considering it, but what choice does he have? Lily and Alice were wrong – he doesn’t deserve Sirius, nobody deserves Sirius; Sirius is too good and amazing and wonderful, and Remus could never give him the life he deserves.

(This is for the best).

(Right?)

He keeps his voice as light as possible, forces a smile to his lips, which probably looks a little too-brittle, but he can always blame it on his fibro. What’s one more lie between them? “Not sure really… it’s not like we haven’t kissed before – I just, on the hand, it’s a bit weird, right?”

(His heart is doing something wrong and painful – a different kind of pain to the pain shooting up and down his body, but no less real. This pain is buried deep, a sort of tearing in his chest, like someone is actually trying to rip his heart out and squeeze the bloody tatters out through his ribcage).

(This is how his heart breaks).

There’s a pause. It’s tense and wrong and overwhelmingly bad. And then –

Sirius laughs, only it’s wrong, there’s something wrong – Sirius’ laugh should be delighted and joyful and loud and this, this is none of those things; it’s forced and uncomfortable and a little awkward, and Remus’ heart aches a little, because he doesn’t know how to fix this. He’s fucked up, he’s ruined everything, he’s in so much fucking pain and he’s fucking exhausted and he can’t – he just can’t.

The sob rises in his throat, even as Sirius is choosing his reply. “A little, I guess. But that’s no reason to go all AWOL on me, okay?”

Remus ducks his head to hide the tears forming on his lashes, and nods. “Sorry – I won’t do it again.”

“Please don’t.” Sirius’ voice is too soft and tender and full of something that Remus can’t place – the sincerity though nearly breaks his resolve to not tell Sirius everything, and he bites down his lip hard enough to taste copper to stop himself from spilling it all.

He nods again, not trusting his voice, and takes a few deep breaths, licking at his lips where they’re oozing blood.

“Are you nearly done here?” Sirius asks, and the change of subject is both relieving and distressing.

“Gotta finish with the sweeping,” Remus mumbles to the floor, and the thought of that much movement makes him want to give in to the tears completely and just sob on the floor.

Sirius claps his hands. “Go sit. I’ll sweep.”

He’s already marching towards the cleaning cupboard by the time Remus is stumbling for a reply. “No – I can – you shouldn’t-“

Sirius is back, broom and dustpan in hand, and he presses his spare palm against Remus cheek gently. “Remus. You look like shit. You’re obviously in pain. Please, for the love of God, humour me and go sit down.”

Remus wants to argue. He really intends to, except he finds himself wandering in a zombie-like state towards the soft sofa seats, and watching through half-open eyes as Sirius makes short work of the sweeping. (Another reason he doesn’t deserve Sirius).

A shadow falls in front of his face, and then there are warm hands in his, helping him to his feet. He staggers a little, and an arm slides around his waist, supporting him until he’s steadier. “I’ll walk you home,” Sirius says quietly, and it’s not a question, but Remus still nods his assent, too tired to argue with him.

The walk back (and Remus insists on a walk, because he absolutely cannot spare the cash for a taxi, and Sirius had already done too much for him this evening) is a sign of how strong their friendship is – it’s quietly pleasant, comfortable, in spite of the recent tension, everything is exactly as it should be. And yet, something has changed between them, Remus is sure of it – there’s something different behind Sirius’ eyes, something more in his smile, and Remus desperately wishes he could place exactly what it is, if only he weren’t so bloody tired. Sirius keeps up a stream of only-slightly-nervous-chatter, and Remus lets it wash over him, too focused on his own pain and self-loathing and guilt to really focus on what he’s saying. (Ironically, the thought of his self-absorption only adds to his self-loathing and guilt, and he knows vaguely that this is going to spiral, that he is Not Okay).

(He misses the way Sirius’ smile is a little sad, his eyes a little disappointed, as they say their good nights in front of Remus’ apartment block. He has no way of knowing that the second he disappears through the door, Sirius is on the phone to James – “Prongs, I thought you said he felt the same, I don’t understand, I thought – I hoped –“. He’s busy crashing fully-clothed in to bed, the guilt and the pain and the shame digging their claws tightly in to his body, and pulling him away from a restful sleep).