Prelude to a best friend.

Chapter one: The part where he remembers his first time with Remus, and how You didn't judge them. (The love shack.)

He can remember James. It's easy for him. He never forgets all the stupid things they used to do, never forgets what colour James' favourite socks had (it was green, but no one was allowed to know) and even years after, he still remembered exactly what James' laugh sounded like. But for other people, it was harder to remember. And he found himself frequently writing to James, or, writing about James, either way was true. Because he could quite imagine that even though James was gone, he would still be able to read the words he wrote down. He could still bend over and see the paper, mocking Sirius' unruly handwriting.

It was cold and raining. We'd all agreed that it was best if we could just find ourselves a place to crash. Any place was good. As long as it had a roof. Nightly escapades like these, were just our kind of thing. We'd been sneaking out of Your place, as often as we snuck out of Ye Olde Hogwarts. Of course, there we were obligated to return to the castle. Now we could do whatever we wanted. Your mum would be worried, sent a letter, you'd answer, and in the morning we'd head to your place again. Your mum would buy our 'we're so sorry!' routine and we were of the hook. It worked that way. It was Moony, who first spotted the old barn. You and me were supporting each other. Holding whiskey, plain ordinary Muggle-whiskey, wasn't your thing. It was mine, but combined with the glasses of rum I had, it was a bit hard. Remus, the filthy bastard had no trouble whatsoever keeping the booze up. He always manages to not get drunk. Even though he only drank every now and then. And no matter how much he drank, he gained his composure, and managed fine. He drank less then I did, but I admit, I lose control every now and then. Even now, when I'm older. He still doesn't. He's good. Something to be jealous of, really.

Peter was slightly tipsy. From the one whiskey he had. The one that took him six hours to consume. After that, he'd stuck to coca-cola. You were still swinging a bottle of Bacardi between your thumb and index finger. The bottle sometimes hit your lips, but you never drank, you always put the bottle down, trying to form words, unknown to even yourself. Remus had spotted the barn, and pointed to it. No one had said a thing, because, no one could actually see the darn thing. The night-vision-thingy had something to do with his Lycanthropy. You know how that goes with catlike creatures. Everyone looked kind of confused, until Remus deeply sighed, and said: "a barn. We could spend the night there."

Peter nodded. He was cold. Though I never had really understood that. He had his natural, teeny tinny layers of fat protecting him. Let's be fair. You, Remus and me, we're actually quite thin. Certainly in comparison with Pete. Not that this meant that we loved him any less! No, no, definitely not! We love him all the more. Just you know… why is he always so cold? Probably has a bad conscious, I sometimes said. For mockery only, of course. He squeaks that it's not true, and laughs in distress when he sees me grinning. Pete's a friend, and a darn funny one when he's not getting the point. You mumbled something incoherently, and I put up my thumb. And thus we followed Moony, marching off into the big, bad darkness. Soon we reached a field, with corn and grass combined. Moony followed a path that led through the corn, and we followed Moony. It worked that way. After I realised you wouldn't drink the Bacardi, I took the bottle from your hands and took a swig. You seemed like you wanted to say something, but all you did was lazily whisper: "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall…" and nothing more.

I grinned, took it as a sign that he wanted me to take over, and continued singing: "Humpty Dumpty had a great fall! And all the king's horses!" Remus' voice joined in. "And all the king's men! Couldn't put Humpty Dumpty back together again!"

I could see your wicked smile. You loved the short rhyme, but never remembered the words. Remus was of course the only one who actually read the book. 'Through glasses that look' or something like that. Or erm… 'Through looking glasses.' Some of that sort. I only knew of the song, and the meeting between Amanda, Anastasia… oh, Alice! And Humpty Dumpty. But whatever. You liked the song thingy. You seemed to think it resembled your own life. You liked to make your life a bit more tragic then it was. You seemed to believe it turned Evans on.

Soon the rest of us could see the wooden barn too. It was a bit old, and seemed to be deserted, yet Remus said there was a house close by, so it was probably property of a farmer.

"If we're quiet, we'll be fine." Remus said, though he was the only one who had doubted that we would indeed be fine.

He opened the heavy door, and it made a little peeping noise. A couple of chickens slipped by Remus, and he made a little growling sound. The full moon was near, after all. You laughed, let go of me, and waggled in. Peter went in second, then Remus, and I went in last, closing the door. The barn was pretty big, with more chickens and lots of straw and hay. There was a ladder, leading to a platform, where there were more balls of straw and hay to be found. You dropped yourself onto a pile of hay, making yourself comfortable. Remus magiced up some candles, making them float in thin air. Peter fell down on a pile next to yours, snoring, only seconds later. Remus said good night to you, gave me a look, and climbed up the ladder.

Can I be honest with you, James? Confine in you and all the rest? You hadn't known, but Remus and me? We hadn't been so great. I can't even remember how the fight started. But it had lasted too long. We hid it well. Our fight, I mean. You didn't know. And we didn't care to tell you. Remus was more cold, and distant. But you and Peter just figured he was having a bit of a rough patch.

You looked at me, smiling lazily. I took a swig of Bacardi. Then I sat down on the wooden floor, and we exchanged the bottle between us, until you fell asleep, just like that. I still remember the look of perfect bliss on your face, and how I set your glasses aside. If I wouldn't care for you, who would éh? You pathetic bastard. It only makes me love you more.

I could still see lights burning on the upper floor. Knowing Remus, he was probably reading a book he'd magiced up. I'd been wanting to talk to him for quite a long time, yet every time I came close, he managed to get away. Not this time, I decided. It was cold, (everywhere. Inside as well as outside. Coldness all around.) There was rain, and thunder was howling in the North, coming closer. No way he was running this time. When I got up, I almost sank to the floor again. My head spun like mad. I managed to stay up, and climbed the ladder. You know. Booze was taking over, and I nearly fell. Two times. When I reached the platform, I managed to crawl onto it. Remus had removed his T-shirt, which had been wet from the rain outside. And indeed, he was reading a book. He didn't even look up when I stumbled closer. Or he was ignoring me, or the book was darn interesting. As to today, I still chose the first one. Honestly, I wish it would've been the second one. But we all know Remus. He's not often pissed, but when he does something, he does it good.

"Hey." I murmured.

Unlike you, I never froze, I always remained the talkative one, even when I was drunk. I could always talk. Talking to Remus was harder. But I managed.

"What?" He said, sneering a bit.

I sighed and sat down, slightly tipping over and bumping into him. He put down his book. I noticed his tee was drying, he'd pinned it to a beam?'. I didn't talk. I know when to talk, and when to be quiet, but now that I mention it… I wasn't quiet because I wanted to be. There was just too much I wanted to say. And I couldn't say it. He took me being silence as a sign to sigh, and then turn his back on me. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, pretending to want to fall asleep.

You know how sometimes your throat goes dry, but you get even more aware of the fact that you have hands? I know it's awfully put like that, but what I'm trying to say, is that if words can't make it better, touches can. If you want to be close to someone, be close, and with some luck, it's the person that wants to be close to you too. With me, of course, I've never had to be nervous about wanting to be close. I've never really wanted to be close, to be honest. And chicks fall like rocks for me. I don't need to do a thing. It's easy for me. This wasn't.

Remus moved away when I first touched him. But only a bit, as if he wasn't sure the touch had been real. I moved on my side, letting my hand rest on his arm. A friendly touch. To not scare him. His skin turned into chicken flesh, and I smiled to myself. The candles he'd lighted were still shining brightly, even though there was a nasty wind. It was either that, or my touch, causing the chicken flesh. Remus didn't say anything. I move even closer, press my legs against his thighs, move my hands to his hips. Immediately he turns his head and stares at me, confusion and anger mixed.

'"What are you…" he begins, but I feel something different. A need not to talk, or listen. A need to…

He tastes like whiskey and chocolate. And even better, he doesn't pull away from me. My hands go over his hips again, his skin is so soft. He turns and a bit later, there's his hands in my hair, and my hands going over his belt, and there's prickling straw, and messy hay, and he's undressing me and I feel him against me, and it feels so good. When his breathing gets a bit louder, I realise what we're doing. We're naked. And it's okay. I think. But since when do I do that? He looks up, feeling the hesitant touch. My hands trail off during their trip gliding down his stomach. His eyes are chest-nut and amber, looking hurt, and rejected.

"I want this really badly." I whisper.

All drunken-ness leaves my. No half-sober thoughts, all is clear. I want this. It hits me like a bomb.

"Me too." He says, trying to resist.

('Please resist me. Please. How else will we manage? Oh, but please don't. Don't. How will I manage?)

I say nothing more, and kiss him again. Then I feel him. Moving. So close to me. Me inside him. I can feel everything. Every shiver. Every tremble. And it feels right. He doesn't say anything. I look at him, through the whole thing. He's beautiful, though I doubt that he'll ever accept that. He pants and his breathing has sudden stops and he presses himself close to me and I can feel his erection and he doesn't care and it's beautiful. You can say whatever you want to, but I believe things like that should be beautiful. There's no other way to describe it. It's beautiful. And when I come, deep inside him, and he winces and I drench my hand in his come I know it's perfect. His cheeks are flaming red, while they're otherwise pale, as the rest of his body. I kiss the corner of his mouth. He sighs, happy and relieved and real. I rest my cheek against his stomach, feeling the warmth gathered there. He's so beautiful, did you know that? Did you know that Remus Lupin is the most beautiful, wonderful, perfect man, I've ever seen, or will ever see? No? Well, then you know now.

"I love you." I whisper, before I even know what I'm saying.

I'm a bit shocked. I don't say things like that. Even after sex. But then again, with Remus, it was different. It'd been my first time with a guy, and as far as I'm concerned, I never wanna be with anyone else. That wasn't sex. We could have sex later. That had been making love. For me, there's a difference.

"And why is that? 'Cause I just let you use me like that?" He asks, teasingly. (He seriously said that. I can remember that very clearly.)

I say nothing but softly bite his stomach, looking into his eyes, sort of saying: "hey! Don't say that! I really love you!"

He smiles.

"I love you too," he then whispers. Silent. Like it's a secret. Or maybe he's afraid we'll wake up You and Peter. But then again, the panting and the silent moans and hitching breathing could've done that too. "We should sleep," he continues. "It's late."

I nod, agreeing. He's right, it was already late. He lays his head down, and his hand goes through my hair. I sigh contently and wrap my arms around him. Minutes later, I fall asleep.'

So James, if you wanna be all sensitive about it, and ask me why the hell I just told you that so explicit, well, they you're just a big baby!

When I woke up, the sun was already up, penetrating through slits in the roof. My head didn't feel sore though it should've. Maybe the intensity of making love to Remus had really sobered me. I wouldn't know. He was on his stomach, my hand on his arse. I scooped closer and pressed myself against him. He made a satisfied grunting noise in the back of his throat and opened one eye. I kissed his forehead, he smiled, and continued sleeping. I closed my eyes too, trying to fall asleep, but it wouldn't happen. My mind kept straying, thinking about the night before, even though I wanted it not to. Even though I wanted it to stop working and just sleep. I dozed off into half-sleep, and it suited me. It was only when I heard a stumble on the ladder that I realised that I was lying naked on a bed of straw and hay, Moony next to me (also naked!) and you and Peter were down stairs. What the hell had I been thinking! Fucking one of my friends while the others were sleeping down stairs! Well, obviously I hadn't been thinking at all!

Of course, I didn't all figure that out in one second. No, I heard someone stumble up the ladder, and moved my hand a bit, so it was lying half on Remus' butt, half on his hip. When I heard a small, surprised gasp and a second stumble, I realised something was going on. When Remus moved to his side, his thigh touching mine, I realised we were indeed both naked. And when a second surprised gasp came, I realised you and Pete were downstairs. Or erm… were supposed to be downstairs. Hearing the nervous whispers, you appeared to not be downstairs. I swore inwardly.

Remus moved again, and I heard Peter whisper: "what the-…"

I slowly opened one eye. The light was harsh and I blinked a couple of times, before turning my head. Everything was a bit blurry. I could see two figures though.

"Oh oh," I murmured. "Not good."

Remus moved once more, not wanting to get up, but I could tell he knew something was going on. My mind raced a hundred miles an hour as I yawned and sat up straight. When I looked at the ladder, I saw you and Peter, standing there. Mouth opened and wide-eyed.

"Erm-…" I began. You shifted a bit uneasily on the spot. I glanced at Remus once. He was on his side, his hand on my leg. Still naked. I looked around, whishing I had a blanket or something. My shirt came in handy, and I covered him with it. He made a thankful grunting noise in the back of his throat and I looked back at you and Peter. "So..." I began again, now that I was sure Remus was safely protected from all staring looks. "This is… not what it seems…" I was still forming an excuse in my head. "There was… thunder…" I said. "And… he was… afraid… because erm… of the thunder and all…" You quirked an eyebrow. I could see you weren't buying it. You weren't stupid, oh, that you weren't. Though sometimes you pretended to be, just for funs.

"Right… Moony's afraid of the thunder?" You mocked. "And of course, being afraid of thunder involves both of you being naked."

You had sounded upset. I remember hoping you'd be… supportive. Or something…

"Uhu," I nodded. I'd already made up one lie. It wasn't hard to expand it. "It took me a really long time to… comfort him." I had an urge to wink, like I usually did, after I had had sex with irrelevant people. But Remus wasn't irrelevant. So I didn't wink.

"To comfort him?" You looked at me in disbelieve.

I decided right there that I wouldn't give a fuck. Obviously, You didn't believe me. But I wouldn't care. I would do what I always did. Lie. But then again: did I want to lie about Remus? He was great and amazing and loveable and perfect.

"Oh fuck…" I said. "We made love, 'kay!" I yelled suddenly. "Or are you thick or something!" I didn't know where the anger came from. I mean... I do a lot of bad things. But yelling at you has always been one of those forbidden things. People just don't yell at you. It's a rule. Because you're always there when you need him.

Remus opened his eyes. I continued my rant: "We're both naked and…" Remus put a hand on my mouth, blushing fervently. You frowned. You really didn't look happy about all of this.

"It's all my fault really-…" Remus began.

"Fault?" I interrupted. "It's nobody's fault, I mean there's nothing to…"

"I didn't mean it like that," Remus began again.

"Then what do you-…"

"Just that-…"

"Are you trying to-…"

"No, it's not-..."

"But then what are-..."

"That I meant-..."

"You're not-..."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" You interrupted all a sudden. You could yell. I'd known that. You just never yelled at me before. We were more the type of people that went at each other's throats when we had a fight. "JUST FUCKING SAY YOU LOVE EACH OTHER ALREADY!"

Remus bit his lip hard. I grinned.

"Fine," I sighed. "I love you."

He rolled his eyes.

"Good. Can I sleep now?" He asked hopefully. He was already cuddling back into the hay and straw.

"Hey!" I protested, attacking his sides.

Laughter filled the air and I could swear I saw you roll your eyes. You see, that's why fighting with friends, and then shagging them afterwards, is not a bad thing. Because if you're lucky, like me, you'll always have a James there, to tell you its okay anyways.

To you, James Potter, best friend and companion for always.

He withdrew his pen from the paper, not quite believing his own melancholy. He'd seriously drawn a heart, what was he, twelve? Then he felt soft hands caressing is back, and someone whisper sweet words in his ear. Maybe James had left, but Moony was still there. So that did make it better. And at least James would know he was missed. Damned heart or not.

AN: at first 'love shack' was a story on its own, but I wanted to dedicate it to James, and that's how I good this idea )
Review please, I need to know if I should continue doing this, or should just stop here! (Next up will be Sirius remembering there very first fight! Ö!)

Review!