"Beside The Roasting Fire"

Rating: "T", for nondescript slash

DISCLAIMER: This story is fictional – that's F-I-C-T-I-O-N. It never happened, and is not real. It is the product of my own imagination. It contains descriptions of male slash (that's male/male homosexual relations). If you do not like this type of content, or if you find homosexuality or its practice offensive, please click the "Back" button or close your Internet browser NOW, and do not read any further. All characters and copyrights are owned by J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers™ (AOL Time Warner), but this story is owned by me and is all my own work.

Drabble: Word count 250


It had finally happened, Sirius and I. On a warm, June evening, with just each other for company. Alone in Grimmauld Place, the discord of the Order silenced for the day, Kreacher nowhere to be seen. Even Sirius's mother had kept the peace, for once.

I had been in lust with the last of the Blacks for a long time by then; and although I never cared to find out, I suspected that he had been harbouring feelings for me as well. We were all alone, sitting together beside the roasting fire despite the temperature outside. Intoxicated by the sight of him, his proximity, and Ogden's Old Firewhisky, I felt his eyes boring into my own. I felt the urgency of lust as I had never felt it before.

He leaned in towards me, whispering my name. I froze; terrified to let him, yet powerless to stop him. Our lips met, with the softest of touches. Opening wider, I invited him inside, his tongue stroking, teasing my mouth. He was the part of me that I felt had been missing forever; finally reunited, finally complete

Far too soon, he drew back, leaving me feeling empty and unsatisfied once more. But his eyes continued to hold my own as he whispered one single word.

"Moony."

And in that instant, I knew that it was no longer lust that I felt for him, but love.

It was our first kiss.

If only I had known that it would also be our last.