Moments

Extended summary; Sirius Black. Charming, handsome and downright enigmatic. But surely there's more to it than that? A look into what makes Sirius Black so essentially Sirius Black. Moment One; Playboy.

The light had barely begun to creep across the world when its utter stillness was broken by the slamming of a door and the crunch of feet on gravel. Sirius walked with his head bowed and hands stuffed deep inside his pockets, hoping the clean-air would help erase the last of the night-before fogginess from his mind.

He made his way down to the bottom of the garden before vaulting over the low fence and escaping into the woods. Eyes half-open, he followed the trail instinctively to the spot he liked to escape to every now and then. It was a beautiful spot. A tree had long ago fallen over, leaving nothing but a stump behind, nestled in amongst the bases of trees and undergrowth. It was only accessible by the smallest of openings in the tangled branches and leaves, meaning you had to know where it was. It was quiet and simple and so very his.

All but collapsing down into his seat, he fumbled in his pockets for a lighter and a cigarette. He twirled the white stick once around his fingers as memories of somebody trying to get him to smoke something stronger flashed to mind. It wasn't until he'd had the first drag and felt his shoulders relax that he settled in and let his mind wander, head leant against the trunk of some giant tree towering above him.

He and James had managed to sneak out the night before and had gone off into town, deciding that it was about time they experienced the legend that was night-clubs for themselves. They'd stayed in some stupid little pub in the end, too scared to try their luck against the giant-looking bouncers guarding the clubs. It had been fun, though, just the two of them mucking around and drinking more and more until their grins were too large and their movements too jerky. They'd gotten up to dance once the live-band had started and then it had got a whole lot more interesting.

He sighed, blowing out a plume of blue smoke and watching it curl in the still slightly frosty air. He didn't get to smoke wizard-cigarettes very often and even then, he much preferred the muggle ones. Sometimes, though, he needed something stronger to take the edge off and the wizard variety were his preferred ones, their intoxicating smoke allowing him a gentle lull in being for a little while.

They'd been dancing next to a few women, waving bottles of some weird blue-liquid around in one hand and pretending to spin each other with the other. They'd bumped into the women so often that Sirius had started using it as an excuse to touch their hair or put a hand on their waist and then... then... Then somehow they'd started kissing. Well, Sirius and one girl had. It had all happened so fast. One minute he was apologising to her for bumping into her for the umpteenth time and the next her hands were on his waist and they kissing very messily very drunkenly and very, very sloppily, tumbling into people.

Sirius flicked ash off absentmindedly, grinning to himself at the memory. God, it had been fantastic. They'd stumbled around in the middle of the dance floor, trying to keep hold of one another and stay on their feet at the same time. Their hands had been everywhere and anywhere in all the places that they shouldn't have been in the middle of a pub and yet the contact hadn't quite been enough! He grinned again, rather abashed this time, at the memory of their drunken swaying that seemed embarrassingly inexperienced now he looked back.

He didn't know her name. Fuck, he couldn't even remember what she'd looked like – it had just been fun and light-hearted and absolutely incredible. He'd felt – he'd felt so young and alive and – and everything else no longer mattered. The shaky unsure relationships people had at school suddenly seemed ridiculous and immature and Sirius couldn't ever imagining wanting to be in a relationship again.

And then – well, Sirius had found out she had a boyfriend. Or more accurately, the boyfriend's cousin told him. He was still unsure how to take that piece of news. Feeling guilty was out of the question – how the fuck was he supposed to know?! – and besides, Sirius didn't do guilty. But then... then was he more turned on by the idea she'd willing cheat with him? It was a huge confidence boost, he could admit that much at least. Hmm, how would she feel when she discovered it was a fifteen year old that had wrecked her relationship...?

He flicked the cigarette absentmindedly again, the dawn-light starting to gain some strength. He pressed the cigarette back to his lips and winced slightly as he caught a sore spot. Oh yeah, he'd woken up this morning thinking James had put lipstick on him in his sleep until he'd realised his lips were actually bruised! Fucking bruised! There really was something to say about drunken kissing. He touched them lightly, wondering how she was going to explain that one to her boyfriend.

He really couldn't help the smirk that curled his mouth then.

And yet... Yet he didn't – He squirmed slightly, resting his hand on the stump beneath him and stubbing the cigarette out, still breathing in the tang of smoke in the confined area. If he was being entirely honest, he really wasn't bothered about seeing her again. That was... That was drunk!Sirius she'd been with, that was drunk!Sirius that had kissed her and groped her and carried on with her. Not sober!Sirius. He shifted again. So was that who he was then? The idea of seeing her again... of carrying on from where they'd left off didn't appeal to him in the slightest. So... So did that mean he was going to be a player?

He had the strongest urge to go out and do it again, to find some other girl and kiss her till their lips bruised and then just... just leave it at that. Why was anything more needed? Why did something as simple and as fun as that have to be complicated by relationships, and words and all the 'will-we-won't-we's?

The answer, he found, was that it doesn't. He suddenly felt much older and wiser and more world-worthy as though one stupid, inexperienced fumble was going to change his entire life. Because that's all it had been – a childish experiment, but then isn't that all life is? One long constant run of experiments and phases and trying everything and anything with a child-like wonder? So then, perhaps it was going to change his life. All it takes is an altered perception of how the world works, the slightest change in opinion can change the way you live.

He stood up slowly, cracking out his body and marvelling yet again at the resilience of youth. How many years did he have to go before he woke up with cracking headaches and a strong aversion to light after alcohol?

Better make the most of it, then.

So, this is very strange... It's all Sirius Black! There's no RLSB! *shockhorrorgasp* Basically this is based on something real as I have feeling most of the 'moments' will be. If I get round to writing anymore. And, to warn you, they won't be in any particular order.

But should I write anymore? I'm just very much obsessed with the idea that all we are is a series of memories and mistakes stitched together by time, at the moment, and that certain things make us into certain people. Just needed someway to explore that.

Please review... *puppy dog eyes*