"Eighteen and Beautiful"
Part 1/1
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
Note: Un-beta'd. Written in 15 minutes.
Summary: We are eighteen and beautiful and in love. Disgustingly lovely Remus/Sirius fluff.
"Sirius." His tone is surprised, but pleasantly so. Perhaps it is just polite. It is hard to tell with him. "What are you doing here?"
I cannot fathom why Remus is speaking to me, why he is asking me such a question. Yet then I remember that I am standing on the stoop of his family's flat and that I did knock on the amusingly blue door in a supremely Muggle fashion. It is, of course, customary to ask the cause of a surprise visit, even if it is from a friend. I would answer him, but the words have been lost somewhere along with my nerve and all common sense. Is it too late to back out?
He stars at me patiently, expectantly. His ethereal eyes are wide with curiosity but placid with a reserve all too characteristic of him. Golden knots shimmer within depths of creamy chocolate brown, noting that the moon is only two weeks away, only two weeks past. He seems to hold the universe in his eyes, the secrets of the ancients and the innocence of the young. So intelligent and so breathtaking, it is too late to walk away.
"Hi, Moony," I croon sheepishly.
A friendly compromising smile smothers his lips, thin and pink. He brushes a slender hand through his tufts of cinnamon metallic hair, longer now then it was at graduation. It curls slightly at the base of his neck and under his ears.
"Hi, Sirius," he responds in turn, parodying my shameful tone.
The sound of his soothing, soft tenor voice makes me weak in the knees and it's all I can do not to collapse at his bare feet. He is eighteen and beautiful and standing in front of me, white button-down shirt open to mid-chest and half tucked into too-long blue jeans.
"What are you doing here?" he inquires for a second time.
"Oh, you know. Just around. Thought I could pop by for tea," I answer with what hopefully is a casual shrug.
Thunder sounds from somewhere behind me, but I ignore it. I can tell from the expression spreading across Remus' face that he is doubtful of my intentions.
"I never knew you liked tea, Padfoot," he says easily, disbelievingly.
"I don't."
"Yet you're here to have tea."
"Yes."
There is a moment's pause as he sizes me up, those golden hued eyes running over my body. "Oh." He sounds disappointed and suddenly I wonder what terrible infraction I've caused. "I thought you might be here because you missed me and wanted to snog."
His words catch me off guard and I am about to reply that I thought that was an implied service along with tea, but the words are again pushed from my brain as he moves closer until we are breathing the same two inches of air. He curls five cool fingers around the back of my neck, pulling me into him.
I greedily wrap my arms around his lean frame, the white shirt billowing out as I compress his body into mine and kiss his awaiting pink mouth. Thunder roars overhead; the rain finally starts, but it does not matter.
We are eighteen and beautiful and in love.
