It's the Little Things
Warning: This is SLASH, meaning boy/boy romance. If you don't like it, don't read it. Sirius/Remus pairing.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters © J.K. Rowling.
Author's Rant: This is quite a long rant, so if you don't feel like reading it, skip to the story. The rant is a semi-essay on fanon playboy Sirius vs. canon Sirius.
--BEGIN RANT--
Playboy Sirius is so popular in fanon that there are few (if any) fics that challenge that view. But in my view, canon seems to suggest just the opposite about our favorite canine's love life.
Now, keep in mind that canon Harry rarely (like, once in a blue moon) describes anyone as good looking. So if he does, it either means that he's smitten with them or that they're really really gorgeous. I mean, we don't even know that the Patil twins are "two of the best looking girls in Harry's year" until we hear it from Dean. Harry never once mentions that they're pretty. The only two girls he seems to think are pretty are Cho Chang and Fleur Delacoeur. We know Harry has a crush on Cho. And Fleur is apparently drop dead beautiful.
The only two guys Harry describes as handsome are Cedric Diggory and Sirius. In the pensieve scene, Harry mentions over and over that Sirius is handsome. Harry even mentions how Sirius's hair falls into his eyes just so. Canon Harry never ever does that. So it either means he's smitten with his godfather (which I seriously doubt, considering that it is a children's book) or, more likely, that Sirius is VERY good looking.
And if he's that good looking, then he must have had a fair number of girls after him, right? We're even told that the girl behind him was "eyeing him hopefully." But he doesn't notice or doesn't seem to care. Even when James keeps looking over to the girls by the lake and basically making a prat of himself, Sirius doesn't join in. For someone with such a bloated ego as Sirius seemed to have in those days, it just doesn't seem normal. And at an age when all boys seem to be noticing girls (Ron, Harry, Dean, even Neville), Sirius suspiciously doesn't. And we know that James got married to Lily not long after graduating from Hogwarts. Surely Sirius had to have had some kind of relationship. Remus has the excuse of being a werewolf. Peter is apparently an eyesore. But Sirius should have had something. But, suspiciously, we have heard nothing.
It all just seems very fishy to me. I don't mean to generalize, but most boys who aren't interested in girls by age sixteen (the age Sirius would have been or would have been close to being by the end of his fifth year) turn out to be gay. Sorry, but it's a fact. But that's not the point I'm trying to make. What I'm getting at is that Sirius seems to be the farthest away from his reputed playboy status as possible.
And I got to thinking. What if Remus noticed all these things?
--END RANT--
"James! Can't you just bugger off and leave me alone?" Sirius nearly shouted. He glared at his best friend sitting at the foot of his bed, black hair standing on end. James scowled back.
"Come on, Padfoot! I'm your best friend. Just tell me."
"There's nothing to tell." Sirius hoped his voice wouldn't betray him. As a marauder, he was extremely adept at lying, but James and Remus always had a way of telling when he wasn't being entirely truthful.
James pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose. His eyes glinted in the fading light from the magnificent sunset just visible from the Gryffindor sixth year boys' dormitory.
"Don't give me that, Sirius. Tell me what's wrong."
Sirius sighed and leaned back against the headboard, closing his eyes in irritation. "There's nothing wrong. What makes you think there is?"
"It's not just me. Moony's noticed, Lily's noticed, even Wormtail's noticed."
"Noticed what, exactly?" Sirius snapped, shooting James a look of impatience.
"Well, you know."
"No, I don't know. Why don't you tell me, Prongs? Because here you've been asking me what's wrong with me for the past twenty minutes and I don't have a bloody clue as to what in the bloody hell you're talking about!"
"Okay, okay. Relax, mate." James held up both his hands in a gesture of surrender. He seemed to be trying to find a way to approach the topic delicately. "Well," he began shakily, "you know how you haven't dated any girls after Krystal Barton in the beginning of third year?"
"Yeah…?" Sirius didn't like the direction this conversation was headed, and he let his annoyance show.
James gulped but plowed recklessly ahead, his face screwed up in an expression of someone ready for the very worst.
"Incase you haven't noticed, Padfoot, you have a huge fan club. You could have just about any girl in the school, really."
"So?"
"So why don't you? Date, I mean? As far as I know, things with Krystal didn't even end all that badly. You're the one who broke things off, right?"
"Yeah. So?"
"So it was only a two-week fling. And after that there's been…nothing."
Sirius narrowed his eyes, wishing looks could kill—or at least temporarily maim. "What's your point?"
"It seems fishy, mate. I mean, you're one of the best-looking lads in the school and you seem to have permanently taken yourself out of the dating pool. Most guys our age would give their eyeballs just to get one decent date. You could have any girl in the school and yet you don't seem interested. At all. Is something wrong?"
"The only thing wrong, James, is your sudden interest in my love life. Why in the world do you care, anyway? And besides, how do you know I haven't been dating anyone? I could have slept with half the school by now and you'd be none the wiser."
James's eyes widened in surprise. "You haven't, have you?"
"Haven't what?" Sirius asked innocently.
"Slept with half the school?"
"The female half. And I'm planning on venturing into the other side of the sex pool." Sirius batted his eyes and smiled coyly. "Want to help?"
James laughed and threw a pillow at him, which he ducked gracefully.
"But seriously, Padfoot—"
"Exactly."
"What?"
"I'm Siriusly Padfoot."
"Shut up, you git. That is the lamest joke ever."
"It is not!" huffed Sirius. "And in any case, Remus likes it."
"No, Remus is just too polite to tell you to shut the hell up," James pointed out.
"Remus does tell me to shut the hell up."
"But he's nice enough that he'll laugh at any joke you make, even if it sucks."
"Fine! So my pun sucks. Can you leave now?"
"No," said James impudently, bouncing a little on the bed. "Not until you tell me what's up with you."
"There's nothing up with me. Now go away."
"No."
"Git."
"Loser."
"Prat."
"Bastard."
"Prick."
"Pouf."
James didn't know what hit him. With a cry of rage, Sirius was on top of him instantly, pinning his arms down onto the bed.
"Don't ever call me that," Sirius spat, his face an inch from his friend's.
James's eyes were wide with shock, his skin blanched. Suddenly his expression turned angry, and he twisted his arms out of Sirius's grip, shoving Sirius off of him.
"What in the world is wrong with you, Sirius?" he asked, his face a mixture of bewilderment and fury. "I only called you a—"
"Don't say it again," Sirius growled. "I swear I'll kill you this time." He slowly returned to his position at the head of the bed, scowling.
An uneasy silence permeated the room. Sirius pretended to find his fingernails immensely interesting. James was picking at a stray thread on his blanket.
"Sorry," Sirius mumbled suddenly.
James looked up, bemused. His face slowly broke out in a tentative smile. "Me, too. I didn't know it would get you that riled up."
"Yeah, well…I'm kind of touchy about it."
"You like him?"
"Yeah—wait. Who?" Sirius asked, trying to school his face into an expression of puzzled curiosity. "What are you talking about, James?"
He knew it was no use from the moment he opened his mouth. James was smirking in a strangely superior way that told Sirius he was cornered.
"Nothing at all, my dear Padfoot. I'm sorry I called you that."
"It's okay."
"You love him?"
"Ye—no! What in the bloody hell are you talking about? Really, Prongs. I swear you're going to end up in St. Mungo's one of these days."
"Oh, come on, Pads! Just spill already. Or do you really think I'm going to shun you just because you like some bloke?" James was clearly irritated and was glaring warningly at Sirius through the lenses of his glasses.
"Who says I like some bloke?"
"You did. Just now." James smirked haughtily. "So tell me. Who's the lucky man?"
Sirius groaned and put his head in his hands.
"Aww! Padfoot's blushing."
"I'm not blushing," Sirius mumbled through his hands.
"You are, too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Is it Remus?"
"Yes—oh, bugger." He let his hands fall and met James's eyes unflinchingly. "Would you stop doing that?"
"Sure. I've got what I came here for, at any rate."
"You can't tell him," Sirius hissed through his teeth.
"What makes you think I'll tell him?" James asked artlessly.
"You can't! I mean it, James. You can't ever tell him." Sirius crossed the length of the bed and shook James by the shoulders. He had to understand. "Remus will hate me! I can't take that again. Not now that everything's finally back to normal between us."
"How long have you known?"
"For about five years now."
"And you haven't told him?" James asked incredulously. "How can you keep it all bottled up inside? I'd go insane!"
"Clearly."
"Shut it."
"Remus can't know. It'll ruin everything."
"All right, all right. I won't tell him. Though personally, I don't know what you're afraid of."
"Everything."
James offered him a sympathetic smile and a clap on the back.
"Oh, no!" he suddenly exclaimed, jumping up from the bed. "I'm supposed to meet Lily. Later, Padfoot." With that, James sprinted to the door and disappeared, leaving Sirius to confront his predicament in solitude.
But it seemed the heavens had conspired against him that day, for no sooner had James exited that Remus entered, looking as delicious as ever. His long hair fell in curves around his handsome face. He had loosened his tie and had unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, leaving a generous amount of neck visible. And there was a hint of a smile playing about his lips that Sirius found extraordinarily alluring.
"Hey there, Padfoot," Remus greeted with a smile.
"Hi, Moony."
Remus headed straight for his trunk, and before Sirius realized what he was doing, he had begun to unbutton his shirt. Embarrassed and more than a little aroused, Sirius tried his best not to stare. He cast his eyes around for an excuse for his being in the room and found a Quidditch magazine littered on his bed. All but pouncing on it, he quickly buried himself in its pages, watching Remus out of the corner of his eye.
This was definitely strange. Remus was always self-conscious about his appearance, and never changed in front of the other boys if he could help it. He had to be very distracted about something to not care that Sirius was in the room. Something or someone, Sirius thought with a painful twist of his stomach.
Remus slipped the shirt off and Sirius watched avidly as the pale, scar-marked skin was revealed inch by tempting inch. The shirt ended up in a heap on the floor, something that never happened with Remus's clothes. Sirius blushed, reflecting on just how erotic Remus's shirt looked on the dormitory floor. Remus paused in his undressing to stretch, giving Sirius a glimpse of tough, wiry muscle that his hands itched to touch.
Sirius didn't know when Remus had turned around, or when the boy had started walking towards him. He had been too entranced by Remus's torso to notice. But then suddenly he found himself looking into amber eyes sparkling with mischief. Sirius blinked, blushing darker.
"Something wrong, Padfoot? You look quite flustered." Remus smirked, and Sirius noticed that he still had his tie on. Oh, how he wanted to just reach out and pull Remus closer.
"Erm—no. I'm not flustered. I was just…er…reading the magazine, and…you know—"
Sirius was cut off by Remus's abrupt movement forward. And before he knew what was happening, Remus was straddling him, bodies close and lips moving in a desperate dance of passion. Sirius thought he would die of happiness. But then suspicion clouded his mind and he tugged at Remus's hair.
They broke apart, and Remus's beautiful amber eyes looked back at him.
"This is a dream, right?" he asked dazedly.
Without warning Remus pinched him—hard.
"OUCH!"
"Does that answer your question?"
"Did James tell you?"
"No. All he did was nod, smile, and hold up five fingers."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "And you…understood that?"
"Of course," said Remus, smirking. "I should, considering I'm the one who sent him up here in the first place."
Sirius didn't have time to react, for Remus was kissing him again, pushing him down onto the bed. In a moment of elation, Sirius flipped them, pinning Remus beneath him.
"I suppose this means you feel the same way?" he asked casually.
"Really, Padfoot. You think?"
"Don't get cocky with me. I think I might have to punish you."
"Ooooh. Kinky."
"We should remember to thank Prongs for this."
"Yeah. Definitely."
The End.
This was just a little one-shot plot bunny that I wrote at four in the morning because I was afraid I'd forget it if I didn't get it down. So there you go. Hope you liked it. Review, please!