A/N: So, I struggled with the word count on this one, because the unedited one was way above the word count. Also, Sirius and Remus don't actually know each other yet, so it's based purely on looks and appearances for now. I hope you enjoy it! :D

Written for Slytherin Buttercat in Monthly Fic Exchange and The Dunk Tank!

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition

Fanon Box- Scenario: Two characters fall hopelessly, romantically in love because they only find each other attractive.

(image) http .blogspot.

(song) Toxic- Britney Spears

(word count) 1,000

Word count: 1,000

Thanks ilprincipino for beta'ing!

Disclaimer: Nope. Never Have, Never Will.

You're Dangerous

Baby, can't you see

I'm calling

A guy like you

Should wear a warning

It's dangerous

I'm fallin'

Sirius Black is the epitome of amazingness. He is the youngest manager of the firm and he even manages a team—albeit a small team, but it's a team, and he will fight anyone who insults it—of five employees in the Sales Division. But most importantly, he didn't use any sort of connections to become a manager. He did it all by himself, not using his family name. This morning he is in one of the greatest moods because he received an email from the President, an eccentric man named Albus Dumbledore, giving him a raise. He's even tapping along with the Britney Spears tune that's playing.

"Either you got laid last night, or the world is ending," James Potter, his best friend, asks jokingly, as they enter the elevator. "There's no way that you're happy in the morning."

Sirius arches a perfect, not even his eyebrows are less than perfection, black brow in amusement. "I haven't gotten laid, James. Just got a higher paycheck," he taunts, pushing a curly, soft lock of hair behind his ear. He has put on one of his more expensive suits today and has pulled his hair back neatly with a daisy chain.

James scoffs, pushing the 11th button. "I'll have you know that at least one of us has had some action last night, and I got a raise, too."

Sirius groans, not wanting to imagine his little brother and his best friend going at it like rabbits. "Please tell me you two have broken up."

"No, definitely not." Sirius narrows his eyes. The bell dings and the elevator doors slide open.

"God, who's the botto- Holy mother of perfection."

Sirius can't breathe. His lungs have chosen to malfunction at this very moment, because apparently there is a God walking among them who has chosen to enter his elevator. And said God is three feet away from him talking very rapidly and fluently in what seems to be Italian.

He already sees James' questioning look as he pulls out his phone to check out his reflection. Not a hair out of place, like always, though when there is anything out of place it's on purpose.

"So, what floor sir?" Sirius drawls in a low, silky voice that could practically be a pur. The man shows no sign of having heard him as he rambles on to the person on the other end of his phone.

James sniggers quietly behind him. "So, what floor, sir?" he asks again in a much louder voice, not entirely seductively as he can't help the slight tinge of annoyance from creeping in.

The man pauses in his talk, tilting his head to look at Sirius. He frowns apologetically before pressing the 13th-floor button himself.

Everything clicks into place. The thirteenth floor of their building is the Department of International Affairs.

He can't speak English.

Because what other possible explanation is there for the man to ignore his advances? It's a tragedy, Sirius sighs longingly, for this handsome man to not speak the same language he speaks. This Adonis is losing the chance to converse with one of the best human beings, the closest as you can get to an angel really: Sirius Black himself.

"What a shame," he calls loudly to James. "Can you imagine not understanding English? Not being able to speak with me?"

"What are you on about?" James looks genuinely confused. "Who can't speak English?"

"Use your eyes, Jamie," Sirius tuts, pointing to the man in front of them. "The International Affairs Department is where he works! Obviously, this handsome guy can't speak our language. I mean, purposely ignore me? I think not. Besides, I love him already!"

"Sirius, I don't think that's the deal here," James trails off, slapping Sirius' hand down.

But Sirius' mind is racing with new ideas to try that he doesn't hear James' next words. By the time their stop arrives, Sirius has that self-satisfied smile again and it's a bit mischievous.

Don't you know that you're toxic

And I love what you do

Don't you know that you're toxic

Every day on the dot for the next following week, Sirius mounts the elevator and bombards Remus Lupin—the handsome man's name that James has managed to figure out somehow—with compliments that James insists is sexual harassment. But Remus doesn't respond at all, just stares straight at the doors.

"God, I love that suit you're wearing. It should be illegal to have an ass that good. The way your brown hair falls gives you that shy and timid appearance. I mean, look at those amber colored eyes with your long eyelashes. Imagine them fluttering beneath me as I poun—"

"Who says you'll be pounding into me?"

And it's this exact moment that Sirius feels the world slip from under him. He steadies himself on the wall of the elevator and gapes at the man in front of him.

"E-Excuse me?" He must have heard wrong—he must have.

Remus laughs, a nice pink blush sporting his cheeks. "Of course I can speak English, since I work in International Affairs. Born and raised here, actually."

Sirius feels faint, and he awkwardly turns the daisy chain on his wrist. "So . . . y-you've heard?"

Remus coughs, a cheeky grin on his face. "Just the fact that we're soulmates and how you love me. Oh, and you think about how hot it would be to take me over your des—"

"OKAY!" Sirius yells, wanting to become one with the floor. "You've heard things, got it!"
"Among other things." Remus smirks, his eyes dancing with delight. Sirius wants to smack his head and just die of embarrassment. "I imagined that as well, handsome," he whispers into Sirius' ear. "I think I might just love you, too. And the desk part."

Sirius gulps. "You're dangerous."

I think I'm ready now

Intoxicate me now

With your lovin' now

I think I'm ready now