Sirius was dying, he was sure of it. Never before had he been in this amount of pain in his entire life. Never had he been in such a situation where he couldn't find a way to escape. He was being tortured slowly, and it was all because of bloody Remus. Stupid, bloody Remus. Remus with his stupid face, and annoying Prefect-ness, and sexy-as-hell tousled hair… and where the HELL had that come from?
Sirius was hiding in the corner of the common room, with a dark expression on his face, and a goblet of Fire Whiskey clutched in his fist. The Gryffindor Quidditch team had won their match against Hufflepuff, securing them a place in the finals. It had been James-Bloody-Potter's idea to have a victory party in the common room, complete with illegal Fire Whisky, and at first Sirius had thought it was a brilliant idea. That was until he saw the effects that victory on the pitch was having on the participants of the raucous party, and then he didn't like it at all. Not one bit. Stupid Potter.
James-Bloody-Potter, buoyed by his most excellent contribution to the game, was well into a bottle of Fire Whisky, and Bloody-Stupid-Annoying-Perfect Remus had decided he would join him. The full moon had just passed, and Remus' transformation had been less painful than usual, so he was celebrating. Although he wasn't used to celebrating quite the way Bloody-Prat-Potter was, and so the Whisky was affecting him quite a bit more than everyone else. Sirius was certain that the Fire Whisky was affecting himself more than usual as well, because when he looked at Remus across the room, he didn't see his best mate Moony, he saw a smooth, pale column of neck, and soulful tawny eyes reflecting the fire flickering in the fireplace. This, of course, was completely barmy, as Sirius was utterly and completely attracted to girls, and only girls. His list of conquests should attest to that. And yet, here he was, thoroughly pissed off, quite randy, and yet, unable to tear his eyes off Remus.
Sirius sent a scowl across the room to where the two Gryffindor's were celebrating, before taking a deep gulp from his drink. Closing his eyes against the burn, Sirius let his head fall back to thump against the wall behind him. The pain felt good, clearing the mist that the alcohol was creating, and so he did it again before opening his eyes. But the first thing he saw when his eyes open was the sheer brilliance that was Remus' hair, windswept from being in the supporter's stands, and falling about his head in disarray. One particular lock had fallen over Remus' right eye, and it was all Sirius could to not to march over to where his two best mates stood and run his hands through the delicious golden hair, nuzzling that stray lock back into place.
Sirius decided he had gone crazy. The Marauders had clearly done one too many pranks that had backfired, and the result was some form of magical brain damage that made him go all funny and start lusting after blokes, his best mate in particular. With a frustrated grunt, Sirius made up his mind that he wouldn't let the craziness take hold of him, and it would be for the best if he were to find a willing female to start seducing immediately. Luckily, seeing as how he was a Beater on the victorious Gryffindor Quidditch team, not to mention just being the Legendary Sirius Black, pulling a bird wouldn't be a problem at all. He could already see hopeful glances that at least half a dozen quite attractive girls were sending in his direction. He locked gazes with the closest girl, a quite pretty blonde whose name was escaping him just this second, and turned on the full power of the Devastating-Sirius-Black-Charm-and-Appeal.
Of course, it worked immediately, and the girl was drawn to him, caught in his thrall. Sirius silently congratulated himself for his amazing pulling powers, and cast a half hearted glance over to where Remus and that berk, Potter, stood. He was immediately assaulted with the image of Remus' long fingers clutched around the neck of the Fire Whisky bottle, and Sirius instantly regretted letting his eyes stray from the impressive display of cleavage that was flaunted before him. He tuned himself back in to the girl, who was now saying something to him, but his alcohol-fuelled mind refused to listen to her, instead catching the sound of Remus' hearty laugh from across the room. Sirius felt his insides melt a little, causing heat to start pooling south of the border. He was suddenly furious with Stupid-Drunk-Remus for having such an amazingly sexy laugh. Seriously, what boy was allowed to sound like that anyway?
In front of him, the girl grabbed Sirius' arm in an attempt to regain his attention, but over her shoulder Sirius saw Remus lift the whisky bottle for another deep swallow. The way his head tilted back, watching the muscles constrict his throat, was probably about the sexiest thing Sirius had ever seen. Watching Remus raise that bottle to his lips this last time was too much. He couldn't take it any longer. Stupid-Amazing-Remus clearly was much too drunk for his own good, and needed to be saved from himself. The more Sirius thought of it, the more he thought that Remus would be ashamed of his obviously tarty behavior, was he not clearly too drunk to realize.
It was as if his limbs were no longer part of his body. Sirius felt himself crossing the room, pushing through the throng of celebrating Gryffindors until he reached his prize. He ignored the strange look that James-Bloody-Wanker-Potter gave him, and grabbed Remus around the wrist, who was already half way towards bringing the bottle to his all-too attractive mouth again, and started dragging him up the stairs.
"Siri, whassa matter?"
The way the words slurred through Remus' lips only served to turn Sirius on more, much to his dismay. He shouldn't be turned on by blokes, and definitely not by the one in front of him now. He blamed Stupid-Drunken-Remus. Clearly he was trying to lure Sirius into doing something stupid, but Sirius had caught on to Remus' plan, and would be having none of that. He was, after all, Sirius Black, he of the unparalleled womanizing skills. Remus could play all the silly, drunken games he wanted. Sirius Black was obviously too clever to be pulled into that trap.
He was, however, desperate to get Remus alone, the heat boiling his blood spurring him on, but he wasn't entirely sure why. He just knew that he had to get Remus away from the rest of the common room revelers, if for no other reason to stop the wanton display that Remus was putting on. It was indecent really, the way he caressed the bottle with his alluring mouth, the way he let his hair drift over his eye like that and, hell, even the seductive way he had left his house scarf hanging around his neck. Sirius had had enough of Remus' exhibit, and he was about to give him a piece of his mind.
Looking back over his shoulder, Sirius saw that he had pulled his intoxicated friend far enough up the spiral staircase that they were out of the prying eyes of the rest of the partiers. He halted abruptly and Remus swayed a little at the sudden stop. Sirius grabbed his upper arm to steady him, and then pushed him up another stair, as if to get him further away from the rest of the crowd. Remus looked slightly flustered, and that only served to turn Sirius on more, the inebriated boy's golden hair disheveled and a warm flush gracing his cheeks. Somehow he had managed to keep his grip on the half-full bottle of fire whisky, and Sirius grabbed it and took a hefty gulp while tawny eyes looked on, slightly unfocussed from the drink.
"Remus, don't look at me like that. This is all your fault, you know." Sirius sounded agitated.
"My fault? What'd I do?" His slightly confused look seemed to be the breaking point for Sirius. Jamming the bottle back into Remus' hand, he grabbed Remus' shirt front and crashed his lips down onto Remus'. He let out a noise of satisfaction, as if he had found what he had spent all night seeking, and after a moment, much to Sirius' shock, Remus started to kiss back. The hand with the bottle wrapped tightly around the taller boy, pulling him closer to him, while his free hand came up to take a fist of the famous Black hair. This only seemed to spur Sirius on, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue on a quest to taste the new delight that was Remus.
He tasted of Fire Whisky, and chocolate, and something that was primal and woodsy, and Sirius couldn't get enough. His arms wrapped around Remus, one clutching the back of his belt, pulling him flush against his body, and the other pulling distractedly at the Gryffindor scarf that wound loosely around Remus' neck. Oxygen was becoming an issue, so when their lips broke apart for air, Sirius decided that he didn't like the loss of contact, and went questing for new areas to kiss and lick. He made his way to the smooth column of Remus' throat, where he had spent the night fixated from across the room. It was like warm satin beneath his tongue, and Sirius decided that he had obviously bashed his head a little too hard against the wall earlier in the evening, and died, and this was heaven. His lips were against Remus' pulse point, feeling the erratic beating of his heart. He also vaguely registered Remus' hand fisted tightly in his hair, the slight sting only adding to the pleasure that he was feeling. Sirius knew that he had gone completely crazy, because nothing right in the world was supposed to feel this right. Any second now, Remus would come to his senses and punch Sirius flat, for having attacked him like this. Any second now.
But Remus did not pull away to punch Sirius. Instead he used his grip in the tangled black locks to bring their lips back together, and kissed Sirius with such deliberateness that Sirius felt his knees buckle a little. Where did Remus, Goody-Goody-Prefect-Remus learn to do such wicked things with his tongue? Surely this wasn't what they were teaching in Muggle Studies or Transfiguration nowadays? If it was, then Sirius really needed to pay better attention. This could be homework that he was more than willing to complete.
His tongue dueled with Remus', their bodies so close together that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Sirius could feel the hard planes of Remus' chest, the slightly raised edges of the scars that ran along the length of the smaller boy's back, courtesy of his monthly transformations. He could also feel their lower halves ground together, and realized that he was quite enjoying the way that the bulge in Remus' trousers rubbed enticingly against his own. He was just about to explore this sensation further when a sound came from over his shoulder, causing Sirius to jump apart from Remus, and look guiltily towards the source of the noise.
And of course it was James-Bloody-Annoying-Wanker-Head-Boy-Potter standing there, arms folded, a smug grin on his stupid face, stupid hair looking all tousled, bottle of his own grasped in his hand. He had his arm slung around his girlfriend's shoulders. He had finally convinced Lily Evans that he wasn't as big a prat as he seemed, and they had started dating. In that moment, Sirius was entirely sure that James was the biggest wanker in the history of the earth, and there was no way that Evans would ever date him without being under the influence of some sort of memory-altering spell. James gave the two of them a knowing look, obviously not fooled by the sudden distance between the two. A delighted chuckle erupted from James, who was suddenly grinning like a fool.
"Jeez, Padfoot, it's about bloody time you jumped Moony and saved the rest of us from your foul mood swings."
Sirius' jaw dropped, as James gave a smug little laugh, and turned continued his way up the stairs with Evans. His voice floated back to the two boys as James disappeared from view.
"Carry on."
So Sirius did.
A/N: The awesome pandapjays has made some amazing art to go with this fic! To witness the brilliance go to: h t t p : / / p a n d a p j a y s . d e v i a n t a r t . com/art/Temptation-118545219 (remove spaces)
Seriously, do it. It's amazing!