A/N: Don't you love me? Another update.

This story was particularly hard to write. Took me ages. Much props to Arabella, she did a tremendous job of reading this over and over and over. Remus' head in his head. Woops.

Thank you to everyone for reviewing. I try and reply to reviews. You guys rawk. (Props to Minerva Evenstar, too. New friend!)

Disclaimer: Belonging to JKR, but I doubt even she could write something this fluffy. Despite those scenes in DH...
And, I suggest, I am in a very Straylight Run mood at the moment. So disclaimer to them, for being awesome.


Their first kiss was nothing special.

Sirius had declared that the best place for their first date was the Shrieking Shack and when Remus protested, saying that it was positively the most un-romantic place he'd ever been, Sirius remained surprisingly firm and solemn.

So much so, in fact, that Remus had found himself consenting to a 'late night stroll' – and two nights later, he was clutching Sirius' hand, heart in his throat as Sirius pulled him across the dark grounds under James' cloak.

They ended up kissing where wolf and dog met on equal terms – a small room in the Shack devoid of furniture, yet filled with scratches and echoes of pain - and as Remus realised that this was the reason Sirius wanted to go to the Shack, he felt himself fall in love with him even further.

But Remus was aware of a certain awkwardness between them, even as Sirius' hand worked its way up his leg and, inexperienced though he was, he had known that there was something missing.

Yet they overcame their unease in a matter of days, and years later, when Remus looks back to those first few nerve-wracking kisses, he smiles, and offhandedly mentions the details of their first kiss to Sirius, wondering if he felt the same way.

Sirius looks momentarily confused. 'That wasn't our first kiss,' he says, and then laughs at Remus, who has wrinkled his brow. 'Don't tell me you've blocked out all the other ones.'

And when Remus thinks about it, he recalls the dozens of kisses before the kiss in the Shack.

There were the sarcastic kisses in first year, as Sirius and Remus bumped cheeks, laughing at their own wit.

There were the worried kisses in second year, as Sirius sat with Remus in the Hospital Wing, unsure about his friend's condition, but unwilling to ask – settling instead on kissing a sleeping Remus on his prematurely creased forehead.

There were the tentative kisses in third year, as their friendship strengthened – kisses that began to convey how scared and small they were, as they clung to each other with scarred hands and forgotten secrets.

There were the lingering kisses in fourth year, as they both began to seek the answers to their problems; kisses that began to promise something more and stolen kisses in empty corridors, hidden from James and Peter.

There were the forgiving kisses in fifth year, as they rebuilt their shattered friendship tenderly and quietly – kisses in the back of the library as they frantically studied for the OWLs; reassuring each boy that they would always be there for the other.

There were the intoxicated kisses in sixth year, as they finally let their emotions get the best of them (Remus remembers, quite clearly now – and wonders how he ever managed to forget it – being shoved up against the common room wall by a rather drunk Sirius, a knee pushed between his legs and a mouth pressed to his own as his arms wrapped themselves around Sirius' waist).

And, finally, in seventh year, there were the romantic kisses.

So Remus claims that none of the first ones counted, because they weren't in love back then. Those kisses were purely… experimental, he says, for lack of a better word.

Sirius raises an eyebrow. 'I was in love with you back then.'

Remus nods, and smiles, a far-off look in his eye.

'Yeah. I was, too.'