Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The Harry Potter universe was created by JK Rowling and consequently belongs to her and her various publishers. I do not own anything remotely related to Dylan Thomas' poem Sometimes the sky's too bright either. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Note: This chapter justifies the M rating.

chapter four: The weightless touching of the lip

This time, he is wide awake when the curtains are drawn aside. His heart is fluttering in his chest and he is glad that he is lying down already. Yes, there are indeed things that make Sirius breathless and nervous and the skinny werewolf climbing into his bed is one of them. Well, on second thought, most people would be nervous with a werewolf in bed but doubtlessly not for the same reasons.

"You awake?" comes a whisper in the dark and Sirius grabs the other boy's arm and pulls. A muffled cry into his shoulder before dry lips brush over his own. He feels the silent laughter, feels the lean body shaking with giddy delight and he is bold enough to part Remus' lips with his tongue. A shudder runs through the boy in his arms and oh shit perhaps this was a mistake, but then there is a cool hand on his neck, drawing him closer, and Remus is kissing him back, fiercely and greedily.

It's been only two days since Sirius' rather embarrassing rescue mission and the second night that Remus comes into his bed. The haven't done a lot of talking yet, although this was the original plan, talking. They had been kissing, rather hesitantly, on the floor of their dormitory when Peter's and James' footsteps announced their return. Sirius only had to look at Remus to know that neither of them was up to any more emotional exposure. When Remus stumbled to his feet and hissed, "Tonight," Sirius nodded eager approval. Yet, that night they didn't talk, couldn't talk, too breathless and overwhelmed by the turn of events. After a couple of minutes of throat-clearing and nervous shifting, Sirius grabbed Remus and kissed him.

"There's time enough for talking tomorrow," Sirius whispered into Remus' ear and nibbled on his earlobe. Remus didn't protest then and doesn't protest now that Sirius sucks on his lower lip. Remus is distracting; his neck, his arms, his silent moans, his lips, all of him. The skin on Remus' neck is so soft and alluring and Sirius simply has to kiss his way to his throat and up to his waiting lips, the stubble around them an exhilarating contrast. When Remus' hand gropes his arse, Sirius moans into the kiss.

"Shhhh," whispers Remus. Sirius feels the wicked grin on his face and wishes he could see it.

"Imperturbable Charm. Cast it when I went to bed," susurrates Sirius and draws Remus closer because he can't be too close to him.

"Good thinking."

"Knew you'd approve."

Remus wants to retort, so Sirius shuts him up by sealing their lips. He knows time doesn't stop for him and they can't postpone talking forever but a few more minutes of blissful snogging won't do any harm. He has been waiting so long, so fucking long, for just holding Remus the way he holds him now and he cannot really wrap his mind around it yet. It's too big, too mind-boggling.

The fabric of Remus' shirt is thin and soft from use against Sirius' trembling fingers and nestles like a second skin against Remus' bony shoulders. Sirius craves to touch his boyish angles and flat chest and in a trace of daringness he brings their hips together. Remus goes still, so very still, and Sirius holds his breath.

"Merlin," Remus eventually whispers, almost in awe, and thrusts, blacking out every qualms Sirius has immediately. It doesn't take much or long, both of them excited and filled with anxious lust. Panting and with their pyjamas sticky, they fall apart only minutes later. Sirius, in his blessed-out state, can't remember a time when he was happier.

Meet me after curfew in the Owlery.

S.B.

Sirius folds the hastily scribbled note before James notices and puts it into his History of Magic book. It's time to come clean with Neil and Sirius supposes that he should feel guilty for his profound lack of caring. Kennicot was a distraction, a distraction he doesn't need anymore. He cannot say that he likes or dislikes the boy. They never talked about hobbies or personal things. Kennicot isn't his friend, he's pretty and convenient and yes, gives great head and that's all about it as far as Sirius is concerned.

Remus sits two rows before him, next to Peter as he always does, and the thought of what they did last night makes Sirius forget about Kennicot for the moment. Luckily, James hasn't noticed anything yet. He's too busy with Head Boy duties and Lily Evans, who talks to him voluntarily more and more often, leaving a goofy smile on his face. Sirius feels a little guilty for keeping secrets from him and especially keeping this secret, but as long as Remus and he haven't defined what they have he frankly doesn't know what to tell James. To be honest, he cannot face rejection from his best friend just yet and he has no idea what James' reaction will be. He played his part well when Sirius told him that he preferred his partners to be of the male persuasion but James told Remus that he wasn't as fine as he pretended to be. He tries, Sirius knows he does, but whether he is ready for this Sirius doesn't know.

Sirius stretches his legs and leans back on his chair. History of Magic is undoubtedly the most boring subject on earth but it allows him to daydream. Moving aside everything he cannot be sure of – Remus' feelings for him being only one point on the list – he stares out of the window and loses himself in memories.

Not only History of Magic but the whole day goes by in a blur. He slips Kennicot the note at lunch and hexes his brother in the corridor in front of the Transfiguration classroom for calling him a blood traitor. Detention with McGonagall is over before he knows it, too, though cleaning the tables of bird droppings from their previous lesson isn't normally something that makes time fly by.

Sirius arrives fashionably late in the Owlery, taking two steps at a time because he cannot wait to leave Kennicot and the stale memory of the last months behind. An icy wind welcomes him and thwarts his energetic arrival. Naturally, he forgot to take his cloak.

Kennicot's cheeks are red from the cold though the rest of him looks pale to Sirius.

"Hello," he greets Kennicot casually. The other boy smiles hesitantly and steps closer. Being a good Ravenclaw he has remembered his cloak and his gloves. His Ravenclaw scarf is flapping in the wind.

"I'm curious, Black. Why do we meet here and not inside?" Sirius sees that Neil is trying to cover up his nervousness. He looks even tenser when Sirius smiles at him.

"I'm only here to tell you that our little arrangement has come to an end," Sirius states flatly.

"Oh."

"Yeah. We both knew that it was only temporary."

Kennicot gives him a guarded look. "And why is temporary over now?" The hurt tone in his voice betrays his outward composure. Sirius feels annoyed. Stupid bloke. He told him what it would be like between them and Kennicot agreed. Why on earth does he have to go all girly and emotional now?

Sirius shrugs, demonstratively careless. "It was fun for a while," he drawls, seeking refuge in the easy arrogance he was taught at home. "But to be honest, you're getting a little clingy. I told you I'm not boyfriend material, man." He knows that this was low, sees the hurt in Neil's eyes, but being overly understanding and caring won't help his cause, will it?

"So your little experiment is over, eh? Never mind me!" exclaims Kennicot bitterly.

"Oh come now. You make it sound like a break-up, which it isn't," says Sirius slowly. The cold is seeping underneath his robes and why didn't he remember that it's November when he suggested the bloody place?

"No, Sirius Black is too cool for that. But maybe you aren't all that brave and daring," sneers Kennicot. "You never dared to go all the way." Sirius' cheeks grow hot. Nobody accuses him of being a coward and certainly not this oblivious little shit, who doesn't know anything about him and what he's been through in the last year!

"You mean my cock never going all the way up your scrawny arse? Sorry, I don't do pity fucks."

Two steps and Sirius is shoved hard against the wall. "Fuck you, Black!" Kennicot's eyes are blazing with fury but he can't hide the tears running down his cheeks. "Fuck. You. You, bastard!" Each word his punctuated with another shove, the back of Sirius' head colliding with the wall painfully. He takes it, knowing full well that he deserves this and more. And then Kennicot is gone, his footsteps reverberating in the narrow staircase. Sirius' fingers are icy-cold and he is trembling with bitter satisfaction. And yet, he stays, leaning against the wall, listening to the soft owl-hoots, until the pain subsides. Only then he makes his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

Remus eyes him curiously from his seat at the fireplace when he steps into the Common Room. James and Peter look up from their homework; James frowning and Peter beaming.

"Oi, where have you been?" asks Peter loudly. Several heads turn and James leans over and smacks Peter over the head. "Oww," mumbles Peter grumpily, doubtlessly asking himself what he did wrong now. Sirius crosses the room and throws himself on the sofa next to Remus. He grins at James and Peter and sprawls comfortably against the squashy cushions, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace. Carefully, he keeps a reasonable distance to his Moony, daring to get a little possessive now that the thing with Neil is out of the way and enjoying the novelty of the feeling.

"Met Kennicot and told him it was over," mutters Sirius in a low voice only Remus can hear. Remus makes a little grunting noise, showing that he understood, and goes back to reading his book on the Dark Arts.

James, who is helping Peter with their Charms homework, demands impatiently, "Padfoot, come here and explain to Wormtail why it is indeed important that the circle looks like a circle and not like an egg." Peter is holding on to his wand nervously.

"Black to the rescue," smirks Sirius and gets up.

"Padfoot?" Sirius' head snaps around to the staircase where the voice came from. He has been reading this brilliant book called The Ignorance of the Common Wizard and Yes, Ye Are One of Them If Ye Are Pure of Bloode. The Common Room is empty by now and he hasn't even noticed. That's one of Sirius many arguable talents; he is capable of focussing completely on one task, blinding out his environment to an extent that drives professor McGonagall crazy.

"Oh, I didn't know it was that late already." He gives Remus a warm and apologetic smile.

"I figured." Already dressed for bed, Remus makes his way over to him and falls on the armchair opposite the sofa Sirius is lying on. He makes himself comfortable, his gangly legs hanging over the armrest, feet and ankles exposed to Sirius' gaze.

"Seeing that we can't come around to it in the dorm," says Remus and blushes charmingly, "I came down here to talk."

"Uhm," makes Sirius, his stomach dropping. It had to happen eventually but why now? What if I'm Remus' Kennicot? Irrational panic well up inside him.

"Your Boggart…well, it shocked me," admits Remus in his calm voice. Sirius' ears ring at the memory of it and he stares down at the closed book in his lap. "I…there was a time when I felt just like that, you know, when I felt like blaming you for everything that went wrong. Just like your Boggart. I even remember…once I blamed you for…well, that I'm bent."

"Moony--" Sirius looks up, trying to protest, but a wave of Remus' hand silences him.

"Hear me out, yeah? Alright. Er, well, when I saw you and me – miserable and reproachful me – I realised what a git I've been. Sometimes…seeing that everything you do is a success and that everyone likes and admires you despite your faults and all the pranks that go a little too far…I might have forgotten that you're only, er, human and that people make mistakes."

Sirius feels a lump in his throat. "Moony, no--"

"No, Sirius, I need to get this out." Remus looks very solemn and determined, his jaw set. He must have prepared this, how typical of him, but Sirius can't blame him, having so many things to say himself. "All the time I thought about your betrayal and your thoughtlessness and how I couldn't trust you…but I forgot about your family and that you're…well, that you suffered just as much and beat yourself up for it, waiting for me to come around. I'm sorry." His last words are only a whisper but Sirius hears them as clearly as anything Remus could have shouted. Sirius stares at him disbelievingly and this is apparently something Remus didn't expect because he shifts nervously in his seat, drawing one leg up and pulling it close to his body.

"Erm, Sirius?"

Sirius blinks and snaps out of it. "Thank you…I guess, but really, Moony, this wasn't necessary. If anyone needs to apologise it's--"

"You apologised enough already," Remus interrupts him with a hint of impatience in his voice.

"Not for Kennicot," Sirius mumbles contritely.

"Yeah, well," Remus lets out a shaky laugh. "Let's just say we were both idiots." Sirius wants to ask why Remus didn't say anything that day, why he let him run off thinking that he was the world's greatest pervert and that Remus would never look at him the same way, but he doesn't. The subject is still of a too delicate nature and the best way to get to know Remus' thoughts is by being patient.

"Would you mind coming over here?" Sirius asks instead. A slow smile creeps over Remus' pale face and he eases off his armchair and comes over to him. Sirius gets the book out of the way and after some shifting and turning Remus' head is resting comfortably against his chest and Sirius sneaks his left arm around Remus, holding him tight. The book meets the floor with a soft thump, for Sirius needs his other arm more urgently to stroke and touch and caress. Remus snuffles contently and eventually falls asleep on him while Sirius is staring into the dying flames in the fireplace, praying to all the Gods he can think of that he won't fuck this up.

His nails are digging painfully into his palms as Sirius bales his hands into tight fists. Another howl of agony in the distance and a faint shattering sound. Sirius speeds up, his long legs stretching out as far as they can reach.

"Merlin, the wolf's violent this month." James frowns, obviously worried. They are hurrying to the Whomping Willow as fast as possible, being uncharacteristically late due to their daily detentions. An all too human scream and Sirius shudders and dashes down a slope.

"Fuck, we should have thought about this," hisses Sirius, angry at himself and James for being so thoughtless, for not thinking ahead as usual. Remus had probably known that whatever punishment they got would last more than six days. Of course, he was excused for today but Sirius, James and Peter had to be there, cleaning out an old broom closet for Filch and scrubbing it without magic.

When they finally arrive at the Shrieking Shack the moon is up high, shining scornfully down at them, all coldness and detachment. They rush up the stairs in blustering urgency – Sirius and James first with Peter wheezing right behind them – and transform as soon as they reach the landing. The old planks creak under the suddenly increased burden and the stag, the dog and the rat move carefully closer to the room at the end of the corridor. The howls have long ceased to be human.

The first snow covers the Forbidden Forest like a blanket, enclosing it in a deceptive peacefulness. The incredible whiteness blinds Sirius in his dog form and muffles the sound of his paws. A shower of glittering white comes down on his shaggy back as the stag breaks through the under storey, galloping across the small clearing at full speed. The wolf is right behind him, playful and almost docile now that his mates are there. Padfoot's paws are breaking the immaculate cover as he follows his friends deeper into the nocturnal forest. The bigger animals are followed by a well-fed rat, moving swiftly over the white ground. Sirius knows that he should be waiting for Wormtail but racing in the snow is too much fun and he is still relieved that the wolf hasn't mauled Remus' body all too badly as it came through.

When the night is over all four of them are exhausted and spent though only Remus is naked and trembling and covered in bruises and cuts. As soon as the horrible transformation is complete, Sirius changes back and pulls off his cloak, wrapping it around Remus' violently shivering body. They cannot make a fire lest Madam Pomfrey suspects anything. James undoes his cloak as well and puts it around Remus' legs and feet while Peter is guarding the door. They are a well-rehearsed team.

"A-any ac-accidents?" asks Remus, white lipped and worn-out.

"Nah, we didn't meet anyone. I heard hooves though," is James' calming reply.

Remus sighs, relieved, and gives them a small smile. "It was fun. I like the snow."

Sirius grins. "We know. Anyone could have figured from the way you rolled in it."

"You OK, Moony?" Peter is the master of asking stupid questions but under Remus' tired but sharp look Sirius bites his tongue and only glares at the ceiling.

"Yes, Wormtail," answers Remus, who is so obviously not fine.

"We should head back." James gets up stiffly and stretches his weary limbs. Sirius doesn't react because Remus is still lying on the floor and they are about to leave him with nothing but an old, bloodstained blanket. They have done this so often that it shouldn't be hard but this time is different because that pale, battered boy, that's his Moony and he wants to kiss him and hold him, though these feelings leave him bewildered, their tender nature unwonted.

"Sorry, Moony. We'll see you later," says James apologetically and withdraws his cloak. Remus' ankles look too thin in the harsh twilight that sneaks through the boards on the windows and Sirius wants to snag the cloak back and wrap it tightly around them.

"Padfoot, you coming?" Peter holds the door open. His small eyes are watery and tired and his light hair plastered to his round face. James is already on the threshold.

"Yeah, go ahead, I'm with you in a minute."

"Alright, mate," says James and runs a hand through his hair. The familiar gesture is strangely reassuring. And then they're gone, the staircase creaking under their feet.

"Y-you should've g-gone…with them. I'm f-fine."

"It's bloody cold in here and you're not fine," Sirius barks out roughly and sits down next to Remus, pulling him up and against himself and wrapping his arms around him. Remus sighs and lets his head fall heavily against Sirius' chest.

"Madam Pomfrey will be here any minute, Pads," whispers the boy, who has become so much more than a friend in only six days.

"Hmm," makes Sirius and buries his nose in Remus' tousled hair, something that makes the other boy snicker.

"You're not a dog anymore," Remus chides fondly. They both hear the door to the Shack creaking open and Remus tenses in his grip. Reluctantly, Sirius disentangles himself from Remus, who hands him his cloak wordlessly. Even after the transformation, he is lovely, his Moony, and so Sirius bends down, his black hair falling into his eyes. A weightless touching of the lips and he hurries and hides in the adjacent closet.

"Sirius, a word," says James roughly when they leave the Hospital Wing.

"About what?"

"I'm off to the library," says Peter and hurries away. Sirius frowns because this is more than a little suspicious.

"About you and Moony," explains James as soon as Peter is out of sight.

"What about us?"

"The way you were looking at him in the Shack…I don't know but maybe you have something to tell me." James looks anxious.

"No, not really," is Sirius' sullen reply.

"So you haven't talked to Moony and these looks you gave him are a product of my imagination?"

"Prongs, mate, your interest in my love life is touching but all these talks about feelings are getting a little tiresome. You sure I'm the poof here?"

"Tosser!"

"If you think I am why are you asking about Moony?" enquires Sirius slyly. Averting the subject means that he doesn't have to lie to his best friend.

James sighs in exasperation and makes an averting gesture. "Alright, if you say it's nothing, then it's nothing."

"Good."

"Good."

"Alright, fine, let's get back to Gryffindor Tower."

James' nods in agreement but his hazel eyes betray him. Sirius doesn't care for the moment. He is tired and worn-out and James' curiosity is irksome at the best of times and downright infuriating right now. However, he does care when, two days later, Remus draws him aside outside the library and hisses, "James knows something and he isn't happy at all."

"Did he talk to you?" Sirius asks, alert.

"He asked some not so subtle questions."

"Bloody hell! What did you say?"

"That he's only trying to distract himself from his upcoming date with Lily," says Remus, smiling shrewdly, and Sirius has to remind himself that he must pay attention to the problem, now.

"You lied," says Sirius carefully.

Remus gives him a wry look. "I know."

"Just checking." Sirius cannot hide a grin and by now he knows what kind of effect that has on Remus. A few more seconds and Remus smiles back, his brown eyes warm and trusting. "I don't want to keep this from James either, yeah?" Sirius steps closer, drawing Remus' jaw line with his fingertips, and is quite pleased when Remus' breath hitches. Sirius has always known that he is good-looking but it is only now that he really appreciates it because Remus likes looking at him and Remus certainly likes to be touched by Sirius.

"Pads, I cannot risk--"

"Let's get back to the dorm. James is going to be at Quidditch practice and Peter will be drooling all over his every move," suggests Sirius in a low voice. He sees the struggle behind the other boy's eyes and relief washes over him as Remus nods. Sirius doesn't dare think about what he and Remus will do if James is really not fine with it. Loyalty and friendship mean everything to Sirius and James is not only his best friend, he is like his brother, he is family. Losing him is out of the question but not kissing Remus is a brutal thought, even after only nine days of being allowed to kiss and touch. They haven't done a lot more yet, not since the second night. The risk of being caught in the dorm is too great, too threatening in its consequences, and so it has been the occasional and rather hasty snog between classes and sometimes late at night in the Common Room. The night before the full moon was the last time they shared a bed and it was only to hold Remus and distract him from the forthcoming transformation. Right now, however, Sirius wants to do more, wants to worship Remus' flesh, needs to reassure them both that this isn't only temporary, even if it is.

They go back to the dorm, trying not to rush and raise suspicion, and their hips don't accidentally brush like they're wont to do. Some girls point at him, giggling and whispering, but as usual Sirius chooses not to give a damn. They don't know him and he doesn't understand the attraction James, Peter, Frank and all the other good and normal boys feel for basically every creature of the female persuasion between fourteen and forty. Sneaking a glance at the boy walking beside him, Sirius isn't sure whether he envies them for their normality anymore.

In the dorm, Sirius places a strong locking charm on the door, goes over to his bed and starts to discard his clothes.

Remus stares at him, quite obviously gobsmacked. "What are you doing?"

"Getting naked. You should do the same, you know," he grins and wriggles his eyebrows. When Remus doesn't follow suite he stops at his pants. It's not that Remus is grossed out by his display of bare skin. His eyes are fixed on Sirius' body and there is this delicious blush on his cheeks. The floor is cold against his bare feet as he steps closer to Remus and runs his hands over Remus' arms. "Moony, we have about an hour and I know that we need to sort this out but--"

"You're right," Remus interjects, blinking as though he just woke from a trance, and tugs at his robes. His fingers are trembling and Sirius wonders how often Remus has done this, how often he has stripped down his robes for another boy, and irrational jealousy wells up inside him. Sirius yanks his pants down and helps Remus getting rid of his. They stare at each other for a long moment, revelling in the novelty of this, and then Sirius swallows down his excitement and lets himself fall on his bed, pulling Remus with him.

The sheets are a cool caress against his back while Remus is all burning enticement. Sirius kisses him deeply and gropes every inch of flesh he can reach, dizzy with lust and pent-up desire. He has never been like this – all glorious nudity – with anyone else before, always hoping for exactly this, for Moony in his arms, and now Remus is pressed hard against him, just as eager and desperate for this as he is, and it is better than his most vivid fantasies because it is real and it is now.

"Moony," he whispers in awe and Remus breaks away, his eyes wild and needy and his hair ruffled from Sirius' greedy hands. There is this untamed feeling fluttering in Sirius' chest, something that is more than lust and which has been caged inside of him for too long, and he aches for another kiss, for the slow slide of their tongues and the feel of Remus all over him. It is still surreal, that he is allowed to do this and, almost reverently, he reaches up and brushes his palm over Remus' cheek before moving it around to the nape of his neck and pulling him into another fervent kiss. Their bodies are aligned perfectly, they fit perfectly, as they move slowly, slick and hard against each other, not able to restrain themselves.

Having an idea, Sirius turns them over, so that he is on top, and presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to Remus' neck and collarbones, feverishly covering the soft and salty skin offered to him so willingly. He breathes in deeply, inhaling the scent that is all Moony and that he couldn't describe to anyone because it has nothing to do with chocolate or vanilla and all that rubbish. Remus has a strange beauty; he is all bones and joints, angles and edges, and yet, there is an unexpected gentleness to him, something that is entirely and typical Remus and lies wholly in his manners and movements. Everything he does seems to be measured carefully, evaluated beforehand, and though Sirius understands why that is, why his Moony is a creature of survival, he wants Remus to let go more often because they are young and what better time than now? When he reaches Remus' bellybutton, he sucks on the soft skin surrounding it, evoking little gasps from Moony. Kissing his way further down and making Remus writhe under him, he experiences an immense satisfaction that has nothing to do with him and everything with Remus, and this is something he has never sensed with Kennicot. His world is narrowed down to toothy and wet kisses on sweet Moonyskin and Sirius is drinking in every sound of pleasure he evokes because who knows how often I will be allowed to do this?

With Kennicot he merely sought selfish and quick satisfaction and the Ravenclaw was only too happy to give it to him in whatever form Sirius wished. It's not that he never sucked him off – he likes cock after all – but Sirius' experience in the field is limited and right now he feels inadequate. Remus, however, doesn't seem to notice, shaking badly and straining his hips as he does. Hesitant fingers entwine in Sirius' hair, the pressure urging him on. All too soon it is over and Remus empties himself with a low sensual groan, the sound going straight to Sirius' groin, causing a pulling, smouldering pleasure as his own orgasm hits him by surprise. He draws away and gasps, all gooey with the pumping release of his self.

All he hears is their heavy breathing, out of sync and strangely loud in the afternoon silence. It's getting dark and James and Peter will be back soon. He feels stuck in the twilight.

Reluctantly, he heaves himself up and, cheeks hot in embarrassment at his own quick release, he fishes his wand out of his robes and casts a Cleaning Charm on both of them. Thankfully, Remus doesn't say anything, too busy grinning goofily at him. Sirius is too much of an emotional puddle to be himself and instead of feeling the usual lethargy he is fidgety.

"Could you lie down for a bit?" Remus finally asks, voice husky and rich. He looks deliciously dishevelled and blissed-out, still graced by a slight blush.

Sirius, not used to this and stunned into silence, nods and complies but gets up immediately once again to draw the curtains close, shutting the world out. Welcoming though artificial darkness surrounds them as Remus nestles to Sirius, who can't suppress a happy sigh and wraps his arms around a slender waist and bony shoulders.

"That…I didn't expect…" Remus doesn't finish and Sirius grins, slowly finding back to himself.

"Me to suck you off?" he supplies helpfully. He feels Remus grinning into his neck and patting his arm playfully.

"Yeah. I wouldn't have put it that way but yeah."

"Well, any time," chuckles Sirius and pulls the boy in his arms closer. One of Remus' hands draws a pattern on his hip.

"Padfoot?" murmurs Remus into his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"What is it like?"

"What is what like?"

Remus burrows his face deeper into his shoulder and Sirius knows that he's embarrassed and doesn't want to clarify his question at all.

"Sex," he mumbles. Sirius grins into the dark but remains silent. "Eh, no fair," complains the boy who is so entangled in Sirius' life that he simply doesn't want to imagine what it would be like without him.

"I don't know," is Sirius' honest reply. Remus raises his head, the darkness forgotten.

"But you and--"

"We never shagged," Sirius says dismissively.

"What on earth were you doing then?"

Sirius feels slightly irritated by the sincere bewilderment in Remus' voice. He shrugs. "Blow-jobs, hand-jobs…the usual."

"Oh," makes Remus and Sirius briefly considers not explaining himself. Remus won't ask any more questions, because he's Remus, but he is full of questions and probably rightly so. Regarded from a certain distance it must seem strange that Sirius used Kennicot for the physical but never really got physical. Lying warm and pliant against him, Remus deserves an honest explanation and how could Sirius ever disappoint him and betray the tentative trust Remus puts in him?

Sirius takes a deep breath and struggles to find the words. Naturally, Remus knows about his fucked-up family but Sirius only ever talked about it to James because James can't accept a no more than he does. Still, he is quite certain that Remus knows most of it because he is the only Marauder who actually listens. James and he used to talk a lot about sex (or rather their fantasies) until James found out that the leading actors in their fantasies very much differed. They've kept up the usual banter but they never talk about…well, it. Only once James had asked him why he didn't give in to one of the many girls that wanted to get into Sirius' knickers but he had shrugged it off then and James is a clever boy; he doesn't need an answer to that particular question anymore.

Remus shifts and Sirius snaps back into the here and now.

"I don't want to be like my father," he blurts out, his voice sounding slightly desperate to his own ears.

"You won't. You left home, remember?" is Remus' soothing reply. Sirius grunts, non-committal, which is obviously not enough because Remus disentangles himself from Sirius and draws the curtain aside. Blinking disorientated, Sirius sits up, his arms placed casually on his knees. "Go on," Remus encourages him, sitting down opposite him. His figure is strangely colourless in the sparse evening light.

"You know, the Blacks, we're a rotten lot and all that inbreeding left its marks," Sirius continues bitterly.

"Sirius." Remus frowns at him and reaches out for his wrist, stopping Sirius from biting down his nails. He hadn't even noticed.

"My father; even before I left I hardly ever saw him. Couldn't stomach my mother…can't blame him for that though. So while my good ol' mum is beheading house-elves and protecting the oh so precious family honour, my father spends his time in certain establishments, one more infamous than the other. I suppose my parents shagged only twice and Reg and I are the glorious results of their great romance."

"All that's not your fault," Remus points out.

"No it isn't but I can't stand the fucking hypocrisy of it all!" exclaims Sirius hotly. Remus smiles wistfully and Sirius admits to himself that he is a much better partner for this kind of conversation than James. Deep down, he should have known, he just never felt like trying it before.

"You can't change them. You did all you could by leaving," says Remus in that quiet voice he has. His hand still holds on to Sirius' wrist, warm and supportive in its simplicity.

"I can't leave my genes behind though, can I? It's in my blood, Remus. We don't know any boundaries. Bella is the most fanatical bitch I've ever met and my mum hasn't ever stopped at anything either. My father, well, I told you how he consoles himself." Sirius looks gloomily into Remus' deep brown eyes, all too grown-up for a boy of his age. "You of all the people should know that I don't see when things go too far."

Remus, of course, doesn't get sidetracked and catches up quickly. "So you never--"

Sirius lets out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, I never shagged anyone because it would have been out of despair or boredom or whatever and before I'd known I would have joined my bloody father." He silently adds that Remus had better run because he is on the best way of becoming obsessed with him but he can't say it since it's true. "We should get dressed," he says instead. Remus gives him a long look, leans forward and kisses him, sweet and real, just a weightless touching of their lips that chases away the gloom and makes the blood flow.

They dress in silence and lie down on Sirius' bed again, Sirius' head resting against Remus' shoulder and Remus playing with his hair in a way that makes Sirius want to turn into Padfoot and nuzzle closer, demand more.

"You can't stay celibate forever," Remus says suddenly. Naturally, Sirius appreciates the irony of hearing his words to James repeated by Remus.

"I wouldn't call this celibate," he drawls, looking up and cupping Remus' crotch. Remus blushes quite adorably and pats his hand away. "So, worried about our sex life already?" Sirius grins wickedly. Remus stays silent and looks all too casual. Fuck, wrong thing to say.

Then it hits him. "Moony, you're not…you're not like Kennicot." Sirius props himself on his elbow and turns Remus' face to him with his other hand, having him by the chin. "You're you and I…I only met him because I couldn't have you, you know that, right?" he blurts out, glancing sheepishly down to Remus, whose blush deepens dramatically. "Right?" he repeats, his voice rough with urgency.

"Yeah, I know," replies Remus, "but what about James?"

This time, Sirius is at a loss for words. He never really contemplated their dynamics, never really thought about their group hierarchy but suddenly he understands Remus' fear of being second best in basically everything, second to James, only now he isn't or is he? Torn between the two people he loves the most, he feels petrified and nobody should expect a choice of him because he can't choose, having risked so much already. So Sirius gives him the only answer he can give, not intending to jeopardise Remus' trust with something as trivial as a lie.

"I don't know."

...to be continued

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