A/N: Very, very different style. Not particularly well-written, honestly, but I do enjoy the plot. Tell me where it drags, what I should change. There is a lot, and if you don't like it, read my others. Mucho thanks to all the loverly reviewers who have boosted my self-esteem lately.
There wasn’t really a time when it was alright. This was, after all, London in the seventies; nothing of the sort was talked about openly. The death of the playwright Joe Orton had somewhat eroded the secrecy, and sodomy was no longer punishable by law. Still, there was never a time when either of them could admit freely to what they felt. Not then. How could they have?
The girls talked. Of course they did. James and Peter never mentioned it, but how could they not have noticed the tension in the air thicker than smoke, the glances always staring a little too long? Never were they the object of abject gossip—it wasn’t as though there was any physical evidence to suggest their friendship was less than platonic, not really. Nothing could be proved and so nothing was said, the students of Hogwarts either apathetic or ignorant to the straying eyes of Sirius Black. It didn’t keep the girls from hoping and the boys pretending it wasn’t there, that anything but friendship existed between the two.
Really, nothing but friendship did exist between them. That isn’t to say it was always easy. Sirius knew perfectly well how Remus felt, the way he wanted Sirius as more than a brother, more than just a friend. So much more, indeed, and he couldn’t say he didn’t feel the same. The subject was never spoken of, not even when they were alone. They continued in a fashion of friendship, a makeshift veil of perfect male consonance between them, settling about them until it almost seemed to be truth.
Occasionally they slipped. There were times, many of them, when James would open his mouth to ask, but asking would make it a reality, and they too much preferred their false sense of normalcy. The implications are brushed off furiously by Sirius especially, although his eyes hold a hurt sort of defensiveness Remus can sometimes catch. There was a time when they could ask favors of each other, and the other would always comply. Then, a request as simple as helping to study carried more weight than it should have, and Sirius refused.
Near to graduation they were healing and smiling at one another again, and it was good, because the suspicion is almost gone and they can almost pretend nothing ever happened. Sirius still thought Snape deserved it and Remus tried to understand his friend, while trying to pass his N.E.W.T.S. There was less time to ruminate on unaccounted for surges of affection and even less time to ponder what would happen when they graduated.
Somehow, after months apart, they come to a silent agreement. It’s really James’ doing; they’ve all noticed the difficulty Remus has finding a job, and how is he supposed to rent a flat when he can’t even pay for dinner? Peter is still living with his over-bearing mother, and James has moved in with Lily, and so really, who else is there? Sirius invites Remus to live with him, and the latter accepts as though they’ve discussed it thoroughly, which they haven’t.
And it’s then, in those first few months, that the pretense of friendship unravels, slowly but undoubtedly.