AN: I just can't seem to get my head out of this fandom :)
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize IS NOT MINE.
Warning: slash, boylove, yaoi - whatever you want to call it, it's in this fic and if you don't like it, begone. (I really don't see how this needs a warning, but whatever.)
Story-time!
Everything was Sirius's fault.
If the stupid mangy mutt hadn't had the sudden urge to charm all the Slytherin ties red and gold, if he hadn't asked Remus to help him in figuring out the charm, if they hadn't been caught, then right now Remus could be sitting comfortably in the common room before the fire, nose buried in a book.
But alas! Sirius had had the urge, he had asked Remus, and they had been caught. So now here they were, kneeling on the vast green expanse of Quidditch pitch and plucking out all the tiny weeds, one by one.
Remus scowled, yanked viciously at a particularly stubborn piece of vegetation, and wondered why he was friends with such an idiot.
"Cheer up, Moony," Sirius said brightly, wiping his dirty hands on his knees. "I brought something that might make you feel better." He reached into his robes and pulled out a suspicious-looking bottle.
"You know I don't drink," Remus snapped. "Besides, Professor McGonagall said she'd be watching us from her window."
Sirius rolled his eyes. "I bet she can't see anything from up there." He opened the bottle, took a swig then held it out to Remus.
"I told you, I don't – " Remus began peevishly.
"Just one sip?" Sirius interrupted, wagging the bottle in what was supposed to be a tempting manner. "Come on, it'll make you feel better."
Remus eyed the bottle warily. He'd tried Firewhiskey once before, and the result? A hangover that had put him off alcohol for the last three years.
"You know you want it, Moony," Sirius grinned, swinging the bottle from side to side.
"Fine," Remus said shortly, just to shut him up. He snatched the bottle and took a short sip, feeling it burn all the way down his throat.
"There, now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Sirius took the bottle back.
Remus glared at him.
"Aw, don't be like that, Moony. If you didn't want to get in trouble, you shouldn't have agreed to help me."
Remus glared some more. Sirius drank from the bottle and again held it out to Remus.
"No," the werewolf said adamantly. "I'm not drinking any more of that."
Half an hour later, the bottle lay empty and forgotten on the pitch. Sirius was sprawled beside it, staring up at sky with a vague smile on his face; Remus was sitting nearby, hiccupping occasionally.
"D'you – d'you think McGonagall's watching us?" Remus queried, voice slurred by his share of the Firewhiskey.
"Nah," Sirius replied, his voice also slightly incoherent. "She'd've done something 'bout us by now if she was."
"Mmm." Remus grinned at the clouds, for no particular reason he could think of other than that they were there.
"I'm hungry," Sirius remarked.
Remus swung a lazy fist at his shoulder, narrowly missing his face. "You're drunk," he corrected.
Sirius smirked. "So are you."
"I am, aren't I?" Remus said, frowning. "But I don' – I don't drink."
"Clearly not." Sirius chuckled.
"This's all your fault," Remus mumbled accusingly.
"You know, you're cute when you're drunk."
Remus stared at him, then burst into a fit of near-hysterical laughter. He laughed and laughed and laughed, and it was only when the laughter subsided that he realised he was, for some unknown reason, sprawled across Sirius' chest. "How'd I get here?" Remus mumbled, a confused frown wrinkling his brow.
"You fell," Sirius said helpfully. "When you were laughing."
"Oh." Remus' frown turned into a happy smile as he looked at Sirius. "You're kind of cute when you're drunk, too."
Sirius raised an eyebrow.
"Actually, you're cute all the time," Remus decided, wondering why he'd never noticed it before.
"Yeah, sure," Sirius said with a snort.
"I mean it!"
"Ha! Get off me, you prick!" Sirius pushed Remus off him and struggled into a sitting position. Remus sat back and stared at his friend.
"What're you looking at me like that for?" Sirius growled.
Remus grinned lopsidedly and swayed forward. "You're really cute."
It must've been the alcohol that turned Sirius' cheeks red, because Sirius Black didn't blush. Ever. Not even when his best friend called him cute.
...
Did Remus really think he was cute?
"I think I'm going to kiss you now," Remus declared, leaning forward.
"What? Moony, n – Mmph!" Sirius' protests were cut off when a pair of lips – Remus' lips – descended on his, tasting of Firewhiskey and Remus and not at all bad.
To his surprise, Sirius found himself kissing back. He was only just beginning to enjoy himself when Remus pulled away and peered at his friend with unfocussed eyes.
"Sirius, I think I...I think I lo..." he mumbled, blinking. "I love..." His tongue was too heavy to form the words, his eyelids too heavy to stay open; Remus closed both mouth and eyes, then toppled onto his friend's lap in a dead faint.
Light. Pain.
Those were the first two things Remus noticed upon waking. He groaned, his head throbbing, his mouth feeling fuzzy and his stomach writhing.
"Morning, beautiful."
The third thing he noticed was the arm slung over his waist, and the face nuzzled in his neck. Carefully, Remus pried open his eyes, and found himself facing a black head of hair. "Wha – ?"
The head shifted, and now he was staring into grey eyes that danced with mirth. "How's your head?" Sirius smirked.
Remus groaned again. "What – what happened? Why am I – we...Is this your bed?"
"You got smashed," Sirius informed him. "Absolutely hammered. Then you passed out, and I carried you up here."
Another groan. "Did I do anything stupid?"
"You called me cute. And then you kissed me."
Remus' eyes bulged. "I did what?"
"You kissed me," Sirius grinned. "It wasn't even half-bad. Would you like a demonstration?"
"Sirius – " Remus began in weak protest as Sirius laughed, then pressed his lips to the werewolf's ever-so-softly. Remus' eyelids fluttered shut and he hesitantly returned the pressure. Sirius deepened the kiss, tilting his head and trailing a hand across Remus' hip.
"Padfoot, d'you know where Moony is? I can't – OH MY GOD!"
Sirius pulled away from Remus and directed a smirk at the gaping James, who was peering at them through a gap in the curtains.
"You – and him – you're gay? Oh my god! Are you boyfriends? Have you been going around behind my back? OH MY GOD!" James appeared to be in a state of shock.
"Yes, we're gay. No, we haven't been going around behind your back. And yes – we're boyfriends." Sirius cast an uncertain glance at Remus, who nodded eagerly before grimacing and moaning, "Ah – my head."
"Oh my god!" James repeated.
"You mentioned that already," Sirius pointed out.
"Why don't you have a hangover?" Remus demanded.
"I can hold my liquor better, sweetheart," Sirius grinned, then placed a light kiss on Remus' lips.
"Ah, my eyes..." The curtains were pulled shut, and James' head disappeared from view.
"Now what should we do?" Sirius whispered seductively, trailing a finger down Remus' chest.
"I'm going back to sleep," Remus muttered.
If Sirius hadn't landed him a detention, hadn't brought the Firewhiskey, hadn't made him drink himself into unconsciousness, then right now Remus could be in his own bed, comfortably asleep. Alone, and without Sirius, and without Sirius' hands and lips and warmth...
Well, maybe the hangover was worth it.
...
It was still all Sirius' fault.
I realize that their detention may have been slightly implausible, but hey, it's fanfiction.
Like? Hate? Have no feelings whatsoever? Tell me!
Until next time :)