Remus Lupins mind spun in circles. This couldn't happen anymore, it was right and it certainly wasn't proper. Once again they'd started without him, once again he was the one left out.
He laid looking up at the dark ceiling of 12 Grimmauld Place. Hermione laid next to him, slightly curled into a ball, her breathing deep and slow. Sirius was stretched out across the end of the bed, still completely naked. Lupin rolled slightly to his side and pulled Hermione into his chest.
She was the one he wanted, the only one he wanted. He looked down the bed once again to Sirius. His lanky frame hung off the edge of the bed, his chest starting to rumble with the beginning of his nightly snores. Remus couldn't help but feel distain for the man at the end of the bed. Remus was never in favor of his current arrangement but it was his only option.
His mind flew to the previous events of the night, not the passion filled kisses, not the mind blown look on Hermione's O-face; but the start of everything.
He'd walked in on them. He'd walked in on them again. He couldn't do this anymore. He didn't want them "getting ready for him" as Sirius had coyly put it. He wanted her; he wanted her and not him. Sirius was a fling but Hermione was real. Real attachment, real friendship and real love.
There was no easy way to go about it either. That's how the whole situation started, Hermione dating him while simultaneous falling for Sirius. She couldn't choose; or she wouldn't. Either way he couldn't let Sirius be a part of them any longer.
The next morning Remus woke up, completely alone in bed. Traveling down to the kitchen he was met with an unwelcome sight. Hermione cooking over the stove, waving her wand over a pan of eggs; and Sirius clad in only drawstring pajama pants trailing kisses down her neck. The pants irked him, they were too low; and he could see the sex lines Hermione loved so much. He growled under his breath.
Glancing down at the table, he sat down and when he looked back up, it was all he could to stop the vomit. Hermione was running her hand through Sirius's thick black hair, her legs wrapped around his waist, and her finger tracing one of the dark tattoos across his chest. The tattoos that mean fear and respect.
Sirius pulled away from Hermione, resting his forehead on hers, "This isn't a proper relationship , 'Mione" he said softly.
"Then I don't want a proper relationship Sirius." She said pulling away from him.
If there was one thing Lupin knew, it was that Hermione wasn't going to be changed with a simple conversation. This wasn't going to end easy. He loved Sirius, but like a brother. But he couldn't watch them anymore; he couldn't be the third wheel anymore. He wanted to be her focus not her afterthought.