Chapter Two: Set Up

"I was set up from the get up, and I drove the wrong way home." -Butch Walker

A week later, Sirius sat in class, tapping his quill absently, his knee bobbing as he stared vacantly out the window. He still thought about Cayden periodically and wondered about what his last words to him had been.

"Perhaps you and I will meet again."

After spending even a short amount of time with the mysterious man, Sirius knew that Cayden had not mentioned it as casually as he thought. Something was going on with him, that much Sirius knew, and, as a Marauder, it was his duty to find out. He set his lips into a thin line, eyebrows furrowed. What could he do, though? He couldn't exactly go traipsing around the world in search of him, he had school, and somehow he doubted someone as… indefinable as Cayden could live in Hogsmeade. He had a slim hope of meeting up with him again, but Sirius was saved from a disappointed pout by Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Black, if you find yourself unable to concentrate in my class, perhaps you will focus better in a detention this evening?" She challenged with pursed lips, an eyebrow arching above the rim of her glasses.

Sirius threw her a suave grin, the one that was infamous for making women melt; the one he couldn't seem to muster around Cayden. "I'm afraid Professor Flitwick and I are already meeting tonight. Another time, perhaps?" He asked, grinning slightly.

A muscle in McGonagall's cheek twitched, and she turned back to the board briskly, James chortling behind him. Sirius threw a smug look at his friend before returning to gazing off into space, his thoughts somewhere by a snowy cliffside in Hogsmeade… The sound of the bell startled him back to reality, and he quickly gathered his things into his bag, shouldering it and following James out of the classroom amongst a swarm of students.

"Did you see McGonagall's face?" James asked, hazel eyes shining with humor behind his spectacles.

Sirius grinned and winked at a passing group of girls, brushing some hair out of his face, and they were reduced to excited whispers and giggles as they hurried away, casting silly glances over their shoulders at him. James let out a snort of disapproval. "You're such a damned flirt," he scoffed, and Sirius shrugged it off, heading to the stairs.

"And you've been really quiet since Hogsmeade," he threw in, and Sirius met his friend's suspicious, cocked-eyebrow look with a gulp, his face rigid.

"So?" He shot back, one hand slipping up the railing as they ascended a broad marble staircase.

"So?" James repeated incredulously, looking at his friend, astonished. "So, Sirius Orion Black is NEVER quiet!"

"There's a first time for everything," his friend retorted gloomily, muttering the password to the Fat Lady, who narrowed her eyes and 'tsk-ed' about manners. The pair entered the common room, a fire crackling in the hearth, and Sirius made immediately for the stairs, groaning inwardly as Remus came bounding over to him. He really didn't want to deal with anyone just then, and naturally, everyone was seeking him out.

"Sirius, Dumbledore wants you," he said, tawny eyes glittering in the firelight. Sirius sighed and turned on his heel, slipping his bag off and holding it out for James, who just stared at it.

"Do I have 'pack animal' written on my face?" James asked bitterly, shoving the bag back towards Sirius, who gave him a level glare.

"I can write it there. Take it, James, I'm in trouble, again," he added dryly, and James grabbed it from him with a sneer, mumbling to himself darkly as he trudged up the stairs, Remus in tow, brows furrowed.

"You two get in a row or something…?"

Sirius slouched his shoulders gloomily as he trudged through the corridors, scuffing his sneakers on the marble as he went. James really didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of his temper, he knew that, but over the past week he hadn't been able to control his thoughts, let alone his actions. Since meeting Cayden, he'd been disgruntled and easily set off on a temper tantrum. With a sigh, he stopped outside the Headmaster's gargoyle, vowing to apologize to the other Marauders when he returned.

"Butterscotch Blimey," he muttered, the same password from his scolding the previous day, and the gargoyle jumped to life and stepped aside.

Sirius nodded to the statue and stepped into the narrow stairwell, ascending the spiraling, brass-railed steps with a dreary weight to his stride. He wasn't looking forward to meeting with Dumbledore, it could only mean trouble, and he wasn't in the mood to receive a detention just then.

Only he wasn't getting sentenced to scrubbing the halls, he found out as the heavy, intricately carved, oak door at the top of the stairs swung open, revealing the spacious office within.

Sirius halted, limbs frozen, breath caught in his throat, and eyes wide. 'No…' He groaned mentally, '…anything but this.'

Professor Dumbledore, with his considerable beard, kind, age-softened face, and twinkling periwinkle blue eyes behind gold-rimmed, half-moon spectacles, sat behind a huge cherry desk. His white bearded face was turned up to the man standing before him, bushy eyebrows drown together in interest.

"…excellent opportunity," the man said, finishing a sentence that Sirius had been too stunned to hear, the voice leveling Sirius's mind functions like a wrecking ball. He stood there, swaying on his feet from shock, and Dumbledore noticed him in the man's silence, turning his attention to his student with a warm grin.

"Ah, Mr. Black," he rasped in his low voice, weathered by years of use. "Mr. Hillander, this is the young man I told you of," he said, and Sirius wished he had James's invisibility cloak on him as the black-coated figure began to turn, dark mahogany curls bouncing slightly with the movement.

Cayden Hillander stood before him.

The desire to disappear only intensified beneath his dark gaze, eyes the color of midnight shimmering in his handsome face, a stray lock of chocolate hair trailing across one eye and cheek. Sirius sucked in a shaky breath, and Cayden smirked at the effect he was having on the child.

"Cayden Hillander," Cayden said, extending a hand which Sirius shook hesitantly, still meeting his gaze, more than slightly dumbstruck.

"Mr. Hillander is interested in investing in a Hogwarts Quidditch Team," Dumbledore explained, though his words were lost on Sirius. "I told him you're the finest Beater we have, and Captain of the Gryffindor House Team," he continued, and Cayden cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Quite the player, eh?" Cayden asked through a small smirk, his voice gliding down Sirius's nerves, arising shivers down his spine.

Sirius nodded meekly, taking the opportunity to fix his gaze on the floor.

"Sirius, are you alright?" Dumbledore asked, eyebrows furrowed. "You're acting quite out of character," he commented, and Sirius met him with a barely managed smile.

"I'm not feeling well, Professor," he said. It wasn't quite a lie, either, his head swam from the close proximity to Cayden, who emanated a magnetic warmth and spice-tinted, musky aroma that made Sirius want to step closer and…

He shook off those thoughts, replacing them with the firm statement of 'I am not gay.'

"Oh…" Dumbledore mused. "Do you feel up to giving Mr. Hillander a tour of the Quidditch pitch?" He asked, and Sirius felt his stomach drop.

'NO!' His mind screamed, but Sirius felt himself nodding and flashing the Headmaster another smile. "Of course, Professor," he said, and could almost feel Cayden's grin burning against his skin.

"Good, good," Dumbledore murmured, grinning softly at them both. "Mr. Hillander, if you wouldn't mind speaking with me afterwards…" He said, eyes fixed on Cayden.

"Certainly, Albus," he said, slipping his arm in Sirius's. "Shall we?" He asked in a low voice, and Sirius, trembling, nodded and led him from the office. For some reason, he had a faint hope that Cayden would release his hold on him once they left the Headmaster's office, but Cayden kept their arms linked as they began to descend the steps. For Sirius, it was torture, the heat of his body, the intoxicating aroma that poured off him in waves, and the occasional brush of thigh or hip against his. He even forgot to tell himself that he wasn't gay; Cayden had melted away everything in his mind. For Cayden, it was pure enjoyment to see the young man beside him swallow, a bead of sweat form at his hairline, a deep gulp to slide through his throat, and the small shivers that danced across his skin every time Cayden decided to rub their legs softly. He laughed inside, and remained pleasantly silent out.

They came to the high-ceilinged, marble corridor out by the gargoyle, which was deserted, seeing as it was past curfew (which didn't necessarily mean everyone was going to be in bed), and Sirius let out a shaky sigh as Cayden's arm, heat, and scent slipped away from him, flooding his senses with reality and the cold, normal world of the castle around him.

But that couldn't be… No, a part of him couldn't want him to take hold of him again…

…'I am NOT gay.'

'Sure, kid.'

Sirius jumped at that. It was Cayden's voice, in his head, and a memory from standing in the streets of Hogsmeade. WHY was he starting to think that?

'Come on, Sirius. You're practically salivating over this man. Just accept it, Sirius Black; troublemaker, prankster, ladies' man, is also a poof.'

You know that little voice in your head that always tried to get you to face reality? That was it, and it was mocking Sirius in the likeness of Cayden, and he shifted uncomfortably in his step, not noticing as Cayden opened one of the massive doors at the entrance to the school and stood beside, gesturing him through.

As soon as he stepped out into the frigid night air, his boots crunching on snow, Sirius shuddered. Now why hadn't he brought his jacket? But suddenly he was warm again, and for some reason he didn't mind as much that Cayden had looped an arm around his waist, a leather-gloved hand resting on the younger man's hip, enveloping him in heat and that delicious smell…

'Sirius, you're a…'

'Shove it, inner self.'

"Are you alright?" Cayden's words startled him out of his inward battle, his voice so close to his ear that heated breath lapped at his neck.

Sirius stammered and met his gaze with a feeble grin. "Of course. Why?" He asked, swallowing the feeling of the Sahara existing in his mouth.

"Well, you haven't said anything, and you've got this adorable deer-caught-in-the-headlights look on your face," he replied with a wolfish grin, and as startled Sirius was at the word 'adorable,' well, maybe not so startled, considering this was Cayden, he still couldn't help but think how much he wanted to lift a hand and brush away the wayward curl hanging in the man's face. His fingers twitched at the thought, and he quickly shoved his hands in his jean pockets, just in case.

"You didn't come here because of Quidditch," Sirius said flatly, stating the obvious. "So why are you following me?" He asked, not quite sure that he wanted to know the answer.

"Haven't you been wanting to see me again all week?" He challenged with a knowing grin, and Sirius felt a hot blush blossom up his neck, spreading into his cheeks. He let out a grumbled, incoherent response, and Cayden laughed, the sound ringing clearly through the still, crisp air. "You see? I have fulfilled your hopes, and I have decided to sponsor a team for you so that I may continue to have excuses to return to Hogwarts. I have a certain interest in visiting you regularly, you see," he said, looking quite pleased with himself as he took a cigarette out of his pack and lit it, holding it delicately with gloved fingers.

"And what would that be?" Sirius asked, accepting the offered cigarette and, thankfully, lighter, taking a deep drag of his own. Once again, he wasn't so sure that he wanted to know the answer to his own question.

"You haven't figured it out yet?" Cayden asked, cocking an eyebrow at him and replacing his arm around Sirius's waist. "I'm disappointed in you," he said, sighing. "My intentions are to get you to sleep with me."

Sirius stopped walking, and Cayden did along with him, a bright-eyed smirk playing at the corners of his lips as Sirius gaped at him, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief and one cocked in question.

"What?" He asked in a low hiss, gray eyes shimmering beneath his drawn brows. Another smirk.

"I intend to seduce you, Mr. Black," he repeated, though Sirius was certain his voice dropped, perhaps took on the same spicy tone as his scent… Shaking his head to clear it, Sirius squirmed away from his touch, finding himself freezing. They were at the Quidditch pitch now, and Sirius hardly noticed, he was too busy staring at Cayden incredulously for his revelation.

"To what me?" He asked, and Cayden smirked.

"To lure you into bed with me, and then proceed to fuck you senseless," he whispered, making Sirius shudder, and it was not from the cold. His voice was icy and cruel, and yet Sirius could not help but feel his stomach flutter at the thought of it… Cayden, and only Cayden, filled his mind, and his eyes flickered shut, jaw trembling from the cold. He inhaled sharply when a familiar arm slid around his waist, and the heat of Cayden's firm body was pressed against him.

"Cayden…" He whimpered, snapping his jaw shut firmly, shivering in his arms.

Cayden, who rather liked the sound of his name uttered from those perfect, blanched lips, grinned and pressed into Sirius's back with his hand, grinding their hips together, and hearing the young man gasp at the contact.

"Do you like it, boy?" He asked, his voice a harsh growl.

Sirius merely swallowed and nodded, chest heaving and eyelids clamping together more tightly. He was terrified of what this man was, whatever that turned out to be, but more so of Cayden himself. Sirius's throat was constricted with nerves, and he was dismayed that his groin stirred at the tingling heat spreading out from the older man's body. Cayden shifted purposefully against him, and Sirius let out a low groan, his lips parting slightly…

…And then, Cayden kissed him.

Ack, short chapter. R and R PLEASE!

-Sable