A/N: Finally, after a three-month vacation, my Sirius/Remus muse gave me inspiration today, while I was cleaning house. It's short and it's fluffy, but it's not so bad, really.
Disclaimer: Sirius, Remus, and anyone else are all JK Rowling's characters; I'm playing with them for a bit, but I'll put them back. I promise.

Remus sighs and flicks his wand impatiently; terrified as it rightly should be, the dust disappeared from the banister. Just a few months ago, they had this wretched place cleaned and, while, yes, Sirius, it certainly is still habitable, that doesn't excuse coming back from six weeks of close contact with the werewolves to find the Firewhiskey dwindling and nigh on an inch of dust. With Molly and Arthur being back at the Burrow and people coming and going as they may, Remus has hoped that Sirius would step up and tell Kreacher to clean or, even better, clean something himself. Alas, no. He doesn't even know what Sirius is up to at the moment and can only pray that it doesn't involve breaking the charm Remus put on the liquor cabinet doors.

With an edgy tap at the other banister, Remus finishes the stairs, but instead of going down them as he planned, he runs a finger down one railing, just to double check. No dust.

…Then something creaks behind him and,

"You tease." A dog-like, entirely Sirius laugh. "You know how much I love watching you do housework. Least you could do is say, 'hello'."

I did, Remus thinks, not turning around to acknowledge him. You just happened to be drunk. And he's been drinking again too, from the sound of him. That, he has reasoned, was why Sirius didn't want to kiss him directly when he got home. True, his pathetic reason about Remus having grown a beard wasn't based entirely in fiction (though it was at least excused by, "I've been with werewolves, Fenrir Greyback's werewolves to be specific, and, in case you've forgotten, they barely bathe"), but he clearly hadn't taken a shower in a few days and he smelled like dust and alcohol. And he's trying to keep Remus from finding out, and failing miserably. At the very least, he's probably aware of that.

"Moony, come on. I have a surprise for you."

Remus rolls his eyes and begrudgingly turns around. Leaning against the bottom of the banister is Sirius, who at least appears to have cleaned up some – but, then again, he did go for a week and a half without washing in third year and used a charm to convince everyone else otherwise. Had it not been for the lingering scent of the Dungbombs he and James just had to set on Severus, he probably would have gotten away with it for longer. But just to show that he will not be played with, Remus crosses his arms and cocks an eyebrow; Sirius only grins.

"I'm waiting," Remus says after a brief silence.

"You have to come down here."

"Why?"

"Because you do."

"…That's not a very enticing reason, Sirius."

"Please come down here?"

"Give me a better reason."

"Because I bloody well can't give it to you if you're up there, you stubborn ponce."

At least he isn't slurring, so, if he has been drinking, it hasn't been much. Shaking his head, Remus shambles down to Sirius' level and shoots him an expectant look. Ever the minimalist, Sirius only smiles, leans in to Remus' face, and kisses him gently. When the warmth shared between their lips grows too tepid, their mouths slip open and Sirius eases his tongue into Remus'. He can't help what happens next: Remus' eyes snap open and he stares as Sirius backs away and gives him a smile – an honest one, something he hasn't seen in long enough for it to feel foreign.

"…You're sober," Remus remarks bluntly, unable to resist a pleasant smirk.

Sirius nods and kisses him again.