Title: Staring
Author: Gotu
Summary: Eh, pretty much a little stream-of-conciousness story about Sirius and Remus in Sirius's POV. I really am not good at summaries. Or titles. Planned as a two-shot. Oh yeah, it's SLASH.
Rating: PG? I dunno...
Disclaimer: See previous chapter.
Author's Notes: Huggles to all my reviewers, wowcow, KMK, marauders4, moony25,Katsu Kisune, esaure, and butterflywings32! You guys rock! . Don't forget to review.

What's the worst that could happen, after all?

Oh right, he could think I'm a freak and never talk to me again, and tell the whole world that I'm queer, and I'd be shunned for the rest of my life. Damn.

Well, here it goes.

"I'm…"

"Hey boys! Guess what? Evans and I- er, did I interrupt something?" Thank you, James Potter, the world's most ill timed person. He was looking back and forth between Moony and I, in a confused way so typical of him. Remus looked rather pained. Funny, he usually has a lot of patience. Probably spent it all on me and my idiotic stuttering and staring and school-girlish behaviour. I walk silently to my bedpost and bang my head on it. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

"Hem." A loud throat clearing. I turn my head to see that Moony and I are now alone again. Apparently James has left us. Good thing, too, my head is throbbing, and I've probably lost about a million brain cells. Remus quirks an eyebrow uncharacteristically. It's cute. No, NOT cute… endearing? Gah! Must stop having internal dialogues!

"So, you were saying…?" He leaves the question hanging in the tense air that hangs in between us like a thick blanket in the middle of July. Perhaps it was from lose of brain cells, or just my stupid Gryffindor courage, I start walking to him. My legs are moving on their own accord, and that small and unheard part of my brain called logic is screaming at me to stop and run the hell out of there, but I can't. I grab his forearms roughly and pull him close to my own body. He smells of cinnamon, and suddenly, I find my lips pressing lightly on his. His lips are chapped, but it doesn't matter, because as soon as our lips touch, my mind's logical side seems to suddenly take action, and I jump a foot away from him, fear of his reaction clouding my mind. What did I do? I can't even look at him now, but I know what his face will look like: shock, horror, disgust, sad, betrayed. A dry sob threatens to escape my mouth, but Blacks don't sob. I turn on my heel toward the door leading to the common room, but the door is closed and locked. When did that happen? I turn to see Remus with his wand in his now limp hand and remember that we are wizards, after all. Funny how I forgot that. Mother would be disappointed. But then again, she'd be disappointed in everything I am right now, and I really have never cared in all of my seventeen years of existence, so why bother now?

I can't read Remus's face, and his eyes are indifferent. I'm scared, because I have never seen him look indifferent, and I've seen more Moony Faces than anyone, I can bet my life on that. He reaches for me, and I'm backed up against the door, because I'm scared and an irrational part of my brain is telling me that he's going to hit me. I gulp and look away, readying myself for the blow and… he's putting his hands on my waist? He closes the space between us and shuts his lovely hazel eyes and places his lips on mine, and this time, neither of us pulls away. Mmmm, he tastes like chocolate and pumpkin juice form dinner, and his cinnamon-y smell overpowers me. My hand moves to his hair, and it's coarse and tangled, but I don't care, because a wave of emotions wash over me and my heart is about to explode out of my chest from happiness.

Oh great, I sound like a lovesick idiot.

He pulls away, and we're both breathing hard, which is strange, because it wasn't like we were snogging wildly or anything. His eyes are bright, and his aura emanates happiness that only equals mine.

Ok, scratch lovesick idiot and insert lovesick poet.

And yes, I do know big words like "emanate".

He grins in a silly sort of way, and I know by the look on his face that I've got the same exact smile. I lean my forehead against his, and quite unexpectedly, he whispers into my ear, "I knew it." My head jerks up in surprise, because I know what he's talking about, and I could have sworn that I had hid my feelings better than Pete hides his secret stash of sugar quills.

Oh, wait. I found those quills last week. Damn.

I manage to say, "So why did you make me go through all of this?" even though I've got a million more questions buzzing in my head, like, for how long have you known? Weren't you shocked? Why didn't you say anything? Did you deliberately lick your lips after eating that Yorkshire pudding at dinner tonight because you knew that… whoa, stop right there. He gives me a little shrug and a half grin that tells me that he wanted me to be able to come to terms with my unnaturalness by myself. I love how I know what he's saying by his little gestures.

I don't care that we're moving toward my bed, or that James or Peter might walk in at any moment, or that my lungs might explode because I'm so involved in kissing Remus again, or that tomorrow the whole school might find out about me and him and we'll be shunned from the world. Because right now, life is alright, and I'm a boy with an unnatural love for another boy.

Oh, well.