"Like a brother," Remus says flatly, echoing Sirius' words as something inside of him crumbles. He'd always known it was there, of course, and he'd always known Sirius didn't feel the same. He'd known since Sirius had informed him confidently that he'd decided he was going to figure out how to become an animagus so that Remus wouldn't have to be alone. The feelings had been there all along but he'd never dared to give them voice, hardly dared to even acknowledge them for fear of losing the first real friend he'd ever had. The one person in his life that he couldn't bear to lose.

And now, somehow, it felt like he was losing him. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right that his feelings for Sirius would rear their ugly head now, not after everything. What's happened with Regulus wasn't planned, but it's something good that he would never part with. He's come to love Regulus – dearly – even if he hasn't yet been able to say it in so many words, but apparently that hasn't quashed what he feels for Sirius. Not entirely.

But they are practically family. They always have been, and that's always been enough. He shouldn't feel like he's losing something when Sirius is still here beside him, telling him that it's going to be okay.

He takes another swig from the bottle he hadn't realized was back in his hand.

And then he's moving before he knows it. Reaching out and grasping Sirius' sleeve like he's done so many, many times before.

"Sirius..."

He looks at Sirius, and there's something pleading in his eyes, because he can tell they're on the cusp of something. Whether that something is moving forward and being happy or having everything fall apart around them, he can't say. He also can't say the words that he really wants to, and so he simply says what he can:

"You know that... that you mean everything to me, right? You always have. Since the first day we met."