Sirius never fell asleep. It was too risky. He was pretty sure that if he gave himself over to the warm little figure curled against him, he wouldn't wake up for a very long time, possibly until James or Peter came in the next morning, and that would have been very bad. Instead, he just lay there, staring into the dark, waiting for his uncomfortable arousal to subside.

There were two things wrong with this scenario, in Sirius's mind:

1. He hadn't come. Not since second year had Sirius snogged anything without getting off. In fact, a fair portion of the time, Sirius came without doing much for whoever he was with—not the other way around. Ever.

2. He was still there. Not that he could think of anyplace he'd rather be, but still. Sirius made it a rule not to hang about more than a few minutes—set a bad precedent, built up expectations, he figured. So when two hours later he still found himself wound around little Lupin, who lay curled into his side like a child, the fact that he had no desire to move was more than a little unnerving.

You see, both of these things reeked of besotted girlishness or emotional involvement or something equally ridiculous, and frankly, it pissed Sirius off. Staring down at Remus in the dark, he had the overwhelming urge to smack him hard in the mouth for being so goddamn warm and soft and fragile looking and—fuck, not the right thoughts to be having.

Gradually, Sirius disentangled himself from Remus's sleeping form, and crawled out of the bed, resolved not to look back. He lay in his own bed until seven or eight, then stumbled out of the dormitory and down to breakfast.

Complete exhaustion was an understatement. Sirius felt as though he'd been the victim of a very nasty jinx, and James' incessant blabbering was nothing short of annoying. He'd found James in the common room drawing on an unconscious Peter, and without meaning to, had given James the impression that he wanted company for breakfast. On the way to the Great Hall, he'd gotten a full, vivid account of his evening with Evans, and as they served themselves, James was on to his usual moaning about how amazing and perfect she was. It was sickening.

"I swear, Padfoot, she makes me want to do things. Fuck, I think I'd give up pranks if she asked me."

"She has asked you. Loudly and frequently."

"But I mean really asked me. Christ, she's just so damn… I don't know! There aren't any words for it! I swear, sometimes when we're snogging, I think my intestines are doing some form of interpretive dance and my head's about to fall off."

"Well, the sex must be deadly then," Sirius replied dryly.

"The lack thereof maybe."

"The lack—Prongs, don't tell me you're not even getting any!" said Sirius, almost as shocked as he was amused. He'd always assumed Evans was a really good lay or something, what else could possibly warrant such blatant gushing?

"Well… not exactly. But we do other stuff, and it's really incredible! Half the time I don't even care if I ever shag her—" Sirius raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "—alright, I care, but sometimes it's sonice, you know, that I honestly think I could never touch another girl and it'd be alright."

With that, Sirius launched into a fit of fake vomiting, gagging and gripping his throat dramatically. James chucked a biscuit at his head, but eventually smiled.

"Alright, alright, point taken. So, what did you and Moony get up to while I was out?" said James with a mischievous look.

Sirius's blood ran cold as he sputtered and choked around his half-chewed bit of toast. He'd been absolutely certain no one had seen them. Surely if James had snuck in during the night, Sirius would have heard. In fact, had James caught any fellow Marauder all cuddled up, there would have been some sort of press release followed by mass flayings and a stern recitation of the Manly Men's Code for Living. Apparently not.

"We… We err—wait, who says I was with Moony?" Sirius shot back defensively.

"You did, you silly git. When I left you got all annoyed and said you were off to wake Remus to keep you entertained. So did you two get up to anything interesting?"

"Oh. No, nothing much. He was being tired and Moonyish and Oh Padfoot it's four in the morning and such. Very un-Marauder-like."

James shook his head sympathetically. "Well, that's Moony for you, never much of a party. Well, a tea party perhaps. Or some other sort of party with lots of scones and dust and sleeping at reasonable hours."

For some reason, this rubbed Sirius the wrong way, and he nearly let slip something about Moony's injuries, but caught himself in the nick of time. He settled for staring at the table and shoveling his food. After a few minutes companionable silence, James spoke up.

"So… Do you really think it's—err… abnormal? Me and Lily?"

"Of course it's abnormal. She's a willowy red-headed Aphrodite and you're, well, you've got the knobbliest knees I've ever seen. Honestly, like a snake swallowing a baseball, your legs."

James glared ominously, but rearranged his robes over his legs. "I meant the whole not shagging thing…"

"Oh… umm… Fuck, Prongs, I dunno," said Sirius, shifting uncomfortably. He really couldn't think of anything he wanted to discuss less than James' sex life. Well, except perhaps his own sex life. Or Moony's sex life (if such a thing existed) (which he liked to think it didn't).

"I could've done'er loads of times. Probably. But she's just so pretty, and some of the time—and I swear if you tell anyone I said this I'll hex your knob off—I just want to hold her. And just be with her. It's sick, isn't it?"

"That is sick, mate," Sirius said, feeling a bit ill himself, unable to keep from remembering the feeling of wanting to lie beside someone and just watch them breathe. Sirius had been accused of being sick loads of times, but this is the closest he's ever come to believing it.

"Morning all!" said a voice from behind Sirius. He didn't bother turning around, he could tell by the dreamy, silly look on Prongs' face who it was. And by the way James was trying to eat his cereal with a fork.

"G'morning gorgeous," Sirius said casually.

"Morni—oh, fuck!" James cried, tipping a large jug of pumpkin juice into Sirius's lap. Prongs was significantly more accident prone with Evans around.

"Merlin, that's cold!"

"Here, lemme tidy it," James nearly shouted, brandishing his wand.

"No, no, it's alright. I need to shower anyway. Leave it—just leave it!" he shrieked, pushing James' arm away. Honestly, Sirius was just pleased to have an excuse to miss the morning mush session that was sure to ensue. Without bothering to apologize, he extricated himself from the table and quickly exited the hall.

On the way to the common room he passed Wormtail, looking very tired and cranky and very unaware of the large bit of male anatomy etched on his left cheek in what Sirius could only assume to be permanent ink. Most of the other students though seem to still be sleeping, which was understandable for nine on a Saturday. The common room was relatively empty, and Sirius barreled through and into the dorm without thinking.

"Oh. S'you," muttered a very sleepy looking Lupin, snatching the covers up to his chest. Copper hair stood at odd angles like a large feathery bird had nested on his head, and his eyes were all hazy and unfocused. Everything about him looked soft somehow, and Sirius had to fight the disturbing impulse to cuddle him.

"Yeah. Morning," Sirius replied awkwardly.

He stood in the doorway a moment, unsure whether to flee or go and shower like nothing had happened. Before he could decide though, Lupin looked away and began buttoning his shirt nervously.

"Right. Shower. See you later then," said Sirius, charging through the room and into the loo. He didn't turn around or stop moving until the door was shut, locked, and warded. Before he turned on the shower, Sirius could swear he heard a small, painful noise echoing from the other room, but he refused outright to wonder what it meant, and stepped into the steaming hot water.