Title: How It Really Happened
Characters: Sirius, Remus, James, Peter
Rating: PG-13 for swearing & snogging
Words: 1247
Notes: Very belated giftfic for Jen. 3 This was supposed to be Sirius/Remus, but somehow some Sirius/James managed to sneak in there too. Hopefully you won't mind. :
As a mildly horrifying side note, this is my first fic in two years, guys. Wtf.
It started out as revenge.
It certainly didn't end up that way, and he'd rather die than admit it to anyone, but the only reason that Sirius kissed Remus in the first place was to get even with James.
You couldn't blame him, really. It had always been the two of them -- ever since that summer when something deep inside him finally snapped and he gathered up his things onto his motorcycle and appeared on James's doorstep in the pouring rain, not daring to ask but not daring to go back home, either -- until James finally realised that there was more to girls than tits and arses and that some of them were more interesting than others. Whenever Sirius brought up Hogsmeade or sneaking into the girls' dormitories or onto the roof for a smoke James shrugged it off, said he was meeting Evans to study or going into Hogsmeade with Evans or waiting for Evans to come over so they could put a Silencing charm on the curtains around his bed -- always fucking Evans, getting in the way of them.
He'd liked her well enough before, he had a bit of a thing for redheads, but mainly, ultimately, it wasn't because he was jealous of James that he kissed Remus, rather that he was jealous of her.
Not that he ever wanted to shag James, obviously not, he was all legs and elbows and hair like an owl's nest. He just wanted to be able to spend every waking minute with him like they used to, sequestered up in James's room at the top of the Potter house, and maybe, maybe they'd have a wank together every once in a while but that wasn't the point, see, it was more that James used to be his and now he was hers.
He could always blame the Firewhiskey, too. It was definitely the alcohol's fault that he didn't notice what was happening until he was practically entwined in Remus, their legs across each others' laps, Remus's arm around Sirius's shoulders, Sirius's head on Remus's chest. Peter and James, the latter miraculously alone, were squished into the same couch, though considerably less entwined, but that was just how things were -- Sirius and James were the closest mentally, whereas Sirius and Remus were the closest physically, particularly while shitfaced, but nobody really commented on it. It was just one of the accepted facts of how the Marauders functioned.
They had been talking about something fantastic, he couldn't remember exactly what but it probably had something to do with breasts and was making Peter terribly uncomfortable, but then James had to slip in an aside about bloody Evans and of course Peter bobbed along, and Sirius could feel his face getting hot, hotter than the alcohol alone could account for. He straightened up a little, feeling the words pressing at the back of his throat, knowing he shouldn't blurt them out but wanting to anyway -- and then suddenly Remus had half-turned, maybe to see why Sirius was getting up, and without thinking Sirius lifted Remus's chin slightly with his fingertips and kissed him, hot and full on the mouth.
Remus let out a slight squeak of surprise and pulled back, looking confused and shocked and quite drunk, all at the same time, so Sirius couldn't help but grin in that way that made the girls giggle uncontrollably, the way that said if there weren't so many people around I'd be up your skirts already except now it was Remus he was grinning at, not some girl. He gave him a chance to stop him, but Remus didn't take it, and so Sirius leaned in and kissed him again, only slower this time. He felt completely and utterly sober, totally focused on the feeling of their lips and tongues, until James's loud and obviously fake cough broke the silence. Sirius had almost forgotten that anyone else was there.
"Er," James said, when the cough failed to elicit a response. "Should we leave you two alone?" Peter giggled, but it was a nervous giggle, the sort that comes from having no idea how to react to a situation so you giggle instead just to have something to do.
Remus broke away; he seemed to have forgotten they weren't alone, either. Sirius tore his gaze away from Remus's lips, slightly redder than they'd been a moment ago, over to James and Peter.
"No," he said, a little out of breath, though that could mostly be attributed to trying not to laugh at the looks on their faces. "What, have you already forgotten the Christmas party?" Their immediate flush confirmed that they might have, but only momentarily -- James and Sirius had been caught under some particularly devious mistletoe and rather than embarrass themselves they'd decided to make a show of it. The conversation took up where it had left off, more or less, and Sirius tried to ignore the confused looks Remus kept trying to give him, polishing off a second bottle of Firewhiskey all by himself instead.
He didn't hear Remus come in over the sound of two bottles of Firewhiskey being forcefully expelled into the toilet bowl, so he jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"This should help," Remus said, handing Sirius a steaming cup of something that looked suspiciously like what he'd just regurgitated, and smelled about the same. He drank it anyway; Remus had always been better than him at Potions. He winced as it went down his throat, burning like ice, but after a few more seconds hanging over the toilet he felt well enough to straighten up.
"Thanks," he said, his voice raw.
"Don't mention it," Remus replied, as usual, but there was something new in his voice.
"Please tell me I didn't do anything stupid after I passed out," Sirius said, meaning it as a joke, but Remus looked pained instead of laughing.
"Well…" he said, and his hesitation made Sirius's stomach plunge. "Not after, but before you passed out you, er. You might have--"
"Kissed you?" Sirius asked, and Remus looked up. "Because I remember that, that's not what I was worried about, I meant more if I'd said something to James about--"
"Oh!" The relief on Remus's face was just as obvious as the fact that he was trying to hide it.
"In fact," Sirius said, crossing the short distance between them to where Remus stood by the door, "I'd do it again, right now." It was true, too -- he hadn't forgotten the thrill in the pit of his stomach when their tongues had touched, drunk as he'd been.
"Um," Remus said.
"Unless you don't want to, of course," Sirius said, suddenly uncertain whether or not to close the gap between his mouth and another for the first time in his life. So it was really Remus who kissed him first, if you were the sort who didn't count drunken kisses, but for once Sirius didn't mind, just slid his hand up into Remus's hair and kissed him back, actually sober this time. He was glad of it, too, because now he could feel everything -- the taste of Remus's mouth, his hands on Sirius's hips, pulling him closer, the smell of his skin -- and not just the soft numbness of the night before.
He didn't even think of James or Lily until the former opened the door, nearly bashing Remus's head in, but by that point it was just an amusing interruption.