"Young heart for love, not heartache…"

"Why does it hurt, Remi?"

"What hurts?" Remus furrowed his brows in concern. Secured Sirius tighter against his chest.

"My chest. I don't know why. I thought they said young hearts were for love, not heartache." Sirius paled. "I'm not getting old, am I?" He broke out of Remus' hold and frantically ran to the mirror, patting his face and checking for wrinkles.

Remus slowly got up and calmly wrapped his arms around his lover again. "No, love. Silly Sirius." He gently grasped Sirius' hands and guided them away from his face. Turned him around so he was facing Remus. Cupped his face, stared into his eyes.

"That's love. That's when you feel like you could spontaneously combust because your heart is just swelling, expanding, until you don't think your body can hold its size anymore. When you feel like you're drifting on a cloud, and you feel so giddy that you might even spare Snape some torture if he passes you, just because you're in a good mood. When you feel like you're dreaming, because it couldn't possibly be true that somebody so amazing could even spare you a glance, let alone lofve you back. That's love, Siri. That's love, not heartache."

Sirius stared into Remus' earnest face, breath caught in his throat.

"Do you mean all of that?"

Remus just stared back and pressed his lips gently to Sirius' in response, and it spoke so much more than the words Remus just shared.