"No," Regulus whispers, quiet and barely audible. He doesn't move away, but he doesn't move closer just yet either. He just stays like that, hand against his cheek. He shakes his head though, for emphasis. "I can't let you do that. Kreacher told me what it is. I'm not sending you to that."

He's smiling as he leans closer - he's not sure if it's genuine or not, but Remus isn't looking at him so it doesn't matter. What does matter is his hand sliding down to the side of Remus' neck, lingering there as he tips his head down to kiss him. It's barely there, something regretful and gentle. "I need you to take care of Sirius. That's what you can do for me."

There's a pause before something frantic overtakes him. He's going to die, he knows he is, and he's hurt and heartbroken and instead of pulling away he fists a hand in Remus' hair to drag his head back and kiss him again, bruising and fervent and desperate.

"I love you," he whispers, and there's a sob caught there in his throat because it feels like his heart is ripping out of his chest all over again. Remus hadn't trusted him. He should hate him, but he doesn't. "I want you to see the end of the war. That's what I want."