It was well past midnight when there was a knock at Remus’ door. Having only just settled for work, the spring days growing longer and the nights brighter, it took him a few moments to accept the interruption. With practiced ease, he climbed down from his workspace, a wooden platform suspended across the rafters of his living room, awkward windows and hutches installed in the ceiling above him.<br/>Already prone to hesitation when attending to visitors, especially at odd hours, Remus opened the front door tentatively. He all but slammed it shut again. Whatever immediate sense of ease he felt upon seeing James at his doorstep vanished as his field of vision increased, revealing another person beside him. Remus hand jerked, pulling the door shut again, quick to obscure the view of his home.<br/>In the darkness, the man beside James played a trick on the eye, so fair he appeared lucid. Both his hair and skin was silver against the brown cloak draped across him. It was James’, Remus recognized, both by seeing James only in his shirt, and by the way it was several inches short on the man wearing it, exposing bare legs.<br/>The implications left Remus’ throat in knots.<br/>“James,” he choked, at a complete loss.