It's blissfully mild in the shade compared to the hell fire that seems to be raining down outside. The sun has turned from friendly giver of warmth to twenty four hour furnace just like that, whoever likes summer has clearly never been in the sweltering heat of day. But sitting under the large tree in the grass, that doesn't itch if you don't think about it, is wonderful. Even more wonderful is that the temperature is so nice you can still touch someone and not become a sticky mess in twenty seconds.
Yes, that's why Sirius and Remus are touching, not because something new has developed between them, because they can't help but touch each other, but because the temperature allows them to. That's why they sit thigh to thigh leaning back on the tree trunk with their eyes closed in the Potter's yard. That's why Sirius' head has just came to rest on Remus' shoulder and Remus' head just came to rest on Sirius' head.
Sirius has the feeling they both understand what's happening and that now they are slowly submerging themselves. Stepping into the water an inch at a time, because it's cold and new and scary. They don't move to fast because with each step they need to get used to the feel of these unexplored waters.
James wants to go swimming, ironic, and asks them to join. James doesn't ask, he forces so they find themselves in cold water, literally. Naturally they strip down to their pants, it's hot, they're in water, never mind Peter and James with their shirts on.
Remus does not check out Sirius' well defined muscles and Sirius does not flex just a little when he notices Remus looking. And Sirius does not ogle Remus' scars, which Remus is definitely not outlining with his fingers, and wry muscles, which Remus is not also flexing.
Neither gives the other a sultry look when no one else is looking and if that were to happen it would not cause any heart rates to flutter and race. Sirius grabs Remus' hand purely to drag him places, not that he does that with anyone else. And Remus most certainly does not brush against Sirius with purpose every time he passes because that would be strange and friends don't deliberately run their fingers along other friends thighs when they pass.
When Sirius tackles Remus he does not linger over Remus' body straddling him. Sirius does not lean closer to Remus' face and tilt his head to the side. Sirius does not almost brush their lips together and then back away at the last minute when he hears the screaming of his other two best friends, because that would be cold depths of an unexplored ocean neither are ready for.
James has had enough of the water, the house, the yard, he has a short attention span and wants to go shopping. Both decline, if it's for more than because they just don't want to go then who cares. They find themselves under the tree again, resting in the cool, no one else around. This time Sirius' head comes to rest on Remus' lap. Remus begins to play with his hair, he tries braiding at first but when he becomes to drowsy he destroys his work and begins to stroke Sirius' scalp. Remus' fingers are lithe and delicate like spider's legs, tracing gentle paths through Sirius' hair.
Sirius closes his eyes like he knows Remus has already done and they sit, Remus playing soothingly with Sirius' black tresses. He gathers up all of Sirius' hair and places it behind his ear, his thumb brushes Sirius' cheek when pushing a strand in with the rest, the action manages to halt Sirius' breath. He continues stroking the scalp, gliding his fingers across like an ice skater, performing a dance, slow and beautiful, for a lover, meaning only so much for the audience of one.
Remus is sitting with his legs folded beneath him and Sirius is laying on his side directly in front of him. The intimate flirtation lasts for minutes in silence, Remus the puppeteer nimbly controlling Sirius, the marionette, with every movement of his fingers. A thumb touches there, the heart stops in its tracks for a second. A calloused finger moves there, the stomach becomes a maelstrom. It is tranquil for minutes as Remus works, all Sirius' senses have shut down to amplify the feelings Remus is creating.
Remus moves from the hair at a gradual pace. First he brushes Sirius' cheek every once in a while then he drags his finger down to Sirius' chin. Each stroke becomes more intimate, down the cheek, below the jaw, over the thrumming pulse point, seductive in practice. With the backs of his fingernails Remus traces paths from his forehead to chin. Sirius shifts so he is on his back and Remus can caress his whole face. Remus' fingers run over Sirius' lips, which are more tender than expected. He lets out a sigh of contentment that shoots sparks through Remus' fingers hovering over his parted lips. They are in cold water now, Sirius can tell it's up to his groin by the funny feeling he is getting there right now.
Remus is dazed but he continues, his fingers venture down Sirius' neck to an area of exposed chest then back up to the more sensitive skin of the face and traversing their way back down again. Remus runs his hands down Sirius' neck and to his chest, a gasp escaping his subjects throat as a fingernail applies pressure.
He splays his fingers over Sirius' shoulders and leans down, moving his fingers back up the neck in sync with his lowering head. Remus kisses his cheek. Sirius can feel Remus' lips remaining on his cheek, Remus' hair brushing against his face, Remus' hands cupping either side of his head, the water doesn't seem so cold now. They have been submerged far enough and for long enough that it now feels pleasant. Very, very pleasant.
Remus moves away and his hands trail down to Sirius' neck where again they land on the pulse point, which reveals Sirius' very positive reaction to the contact.
Both their eyes are open now and they do not move from the others gaze. Remus looks down on Sirius, his hands have stopped moving, Sirius sits up and turns around with caution, as if approaching a deer. Sirius is folded on his knees in front of Remus now and they both feel like they should say something, elude to that trusty water metaphor, but they don't. Instead Remus leans forward and presses his, slightly dry, lips to Sirius' as both their eyes flutter closed. Instead Sirius let's out another sigh and kisses back. Instead they find themselves in a languid kiss that makes time slow and chests tighten. Instead their lips move together and soon tongues join and it is all a blur of passion, leisurely deliberate passion.
Remus eases Sirius to his back and they are still kissing, the kiss is so gentle and loving it has no premonitions of sex. They may be lying in a sexual position, Remus on top of Sirius, hands roving over clothed skin, but they will not do that in the Potter's yard, under the Potter's tree, when the Potters could come home at any minute.
They both feel so good entirely pressed against each other, kissing, they make noises to each other to confirm that, sighs and moans escape brushing lips.
The kiss comes to a natural end and Remus rests his head on Sirius' chest. This time Sirius is the one to play with Remus' hair, though he feels his skills are far less adequate. Remus hums his approval so that must mean it's okay and they lay like that, because it's okay. The water they are in now feels like a second home, they are completely submerged and have only now realized the other magnificent world that had been lying below the surface this whole time. They are comfortable and can breath and excited to explore but for now they rest in each other's arms.
James makes his presence known and they disentangle themselves before he can see them after a while of contented resting. They will tell him later about what has happened but now is not the time. Their relationships's new depths remain hidden to all and that's okay for now.
Now they play because it's summer and they want this to last. Now they both think how happy they are they took those steps into cold water.