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Summary
The sun was casting hues of gold and pink through their bedroom window. Fabian was laying on their bed slowly tracing the spin of the shirtless man next to him. It was incredible, Fabian thought, that he was the one lying next to this gorgeous being. So many others had before, but they had failed to stay by his side. And it was Fabian who was there to pick up the pieces. Each time they left his little angel sobbing and broken begging them to stay, Fabain had been there to support him, he'd made sure of it. Because while his affections may not have always been returned, Fabian never wanted him to know pain that way. He'd have gladly let him go if it meant keeping a smile on his face.
Or: Fabian Prewett was the happiest he had ever been, and he had James Potter and Remus Lupin to thank for it, and all their mistakes.
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