To answer one question - yes, this will be a continuing work. One which, after this chapter, will become a little less happy. As before, disclaimers x 2 - 1) only the plot is mine, all characters and places therein belong to he one and only JK. 2) Slashy slashy (not detailed, but there are definite references to sexual activity), which is male with male relationships. If you don't like it, read no further, don't bore me with flames just because you've ignored the warnings.

Remus' blood was still roaring with fire as the warmth of Sirius' kiss lingered on his lips ten minutes later as he and Sirius stepped through the Gryffindor portrait hole. Remus had reluctantly agreed to leave the wonderfully cramped and, above all, close confines of their – as it would forever remain to Remus – closet and make a break for the Common Room when all seemed clear. Fortunately, they had managed to make their way back to Gryffindor Tower undetected. Remus had never quite managed to achieve the look of casual innocence that Sirius could adopt so easily, but then, as Sirius pointed out, Remus always looked a little apologetic anyway, as though sorry to the world for taking up valuable space, so neither boy would usually look particularly suspicious. But with the scent of Sirius still clinging to his collar Remus was sure that his barely disguised smirk hinting at guilty pleasure would have been misinterpreted and betrayed them both. As it was, they seemed to have gotten away with it, but not so James and Peter, who, as Remus surveyed the Common Room, were conspicuous by their absence.

"Come on," beckoned Sirius, "let's check our room."

Remus wondered how Sirius could act so cool and normal when only minutes before he had shattered the world beneath Remus' feet and used the shining pieces to erect a statue of himself.

Without a thought, Remus followed, trailing Sirius up the familiar stairs into their empty dorm.

"Oh damn," said Sirius indifferently, "they've probably been caught." Despite the curse, Sirius didn't seem particularly bothered by the fate of the other Marauders, having experienced it himself countless times before, in fact, his tone contained more than a hint of amusement.

"Try the mirror." Suggested Remus, digging it from his pocket and throwing it to Sirius. The effort of acting casual while alone in a room with Sirius Black was straining every nerve in his body. He was so tense that he felt he was likely to explode, or snap and collapse in on himself.

"Smart, as always Moony." Grinned Sirius, snapping open the silver disc.

To his horror Remus felt this compliment ignite a fire in his cheeks and fought hard to hold back the red tide of blush. 'Be normal.' he screamed at himself, 'Is that so hard?'

Remus desperately tried to remember old motions, old attitudes, to feel the simple ease of friendship that had been so natural not an hour before. His old way of thinking was there, he could see it, but it kept slipping through his fingers, a flash of silver fish in a stream, slippery and elusive. Now he second-guessed every one of his actions, he would have to screen each sentence before it escaped and betrayed his dangerous thoughts.

With his kiss Sirius had infected Remus. He had poured himself into Remus' veins where he lingered like the most terrible addiction; destructive yet rapturous. Sirius, with his silky midnight hair, his smoky eyes with their familiar smiling creases, his seductive, easy grin as he laughed at James in the mirror.

"Kilman got them." He informed Remus, still chuckling despite their friend's unfortunate encounter with the intimidating, and now no doubt furious, Slytherin Head of House.

"And?"

"They have to clean the Slytherin Common Room. Apparently once the letters finally pop they just stick to everything. James had pink goo plastered all over his face." At this Sirius collapsed into giggles once more.

Guilt overwhelmed Remus as he considered the plight of James and Peter, suffering through detention in a room full of vengeful Slytherins.

Sirius' laughter dwindled and he studied Remus with a disdainful expression. "Oh, come on Moony, they'll be fine. Always the same gloomy face whenever someone gets caught. I bet you feel worse about Prongs being there than he does."

"I can't help it if I have a conscience."

"A who?" Quipped Sirius. "Look on the bright side, firstly, we pulled off an excellent prank. It took the work of a genius to get such fantastic results." Sirius took a deep bow to his imaginary admirers.

"Who needs a conscience with modesty like yours?" asked Remus.

"My ego has just as much right to be here as you do."

This was tricky territory. To dispute this would be contradiction, and Sirius did not respond well to that. However, to agree would be to call Sirius arrogant. And truthful, a silent voice murmured treacherously. Remus smiled wryly at the joke and steered conversation back to safer ground. "And secondly?"

"Secondly, James and Peter are going to be stuck there for quite some time."

"I'm not sure that they'd see that as such a bright side."

Remus didn't see him move but somehow Sirius had crossed the few feet of floor between them, and now stood mere inches away, eyes fixed on Remus and a wicked grin twisting his features deliciously.

"But I do." His words were a whisper of silk, soft and enticing, but a dangerous edge suggested they'd rolled off a forked tongue. "Because Moony, it's just you and me."

This was it, Remus knew, the serpent was offering the apple, sweet and enticing, and he did not have the will to refuse it. As Sirius snaked his tongue between his open lips, Remus surrendered to blissful temptation, finding the forbidden fruit just as delicious as he had imagined. Sirius melted on his tongue and dived straight into his bloodstream, pure and intoxicating, infecting every cell in his body with vibrant life and lust.

His newly ignited passion razed and distorted the world around him. Time and space, cause and effect, the petty limitations of the mundane realm of physics and logic were as insignificant as ash compared to the new power dominating his life, burning bright, unfathomable and indestructible, consuming everything and breaking boundaries as though they were no more than brittle twigs. They were standing, entwined, and then in a frantic tangle on Sirius' bed without traversing the intermittent space. Clothes disappeared faster than a mere fumble of hands could account for and Remus' socks never returned from the black hole that had kidnapped them.

And then the initial whipping frenzy was over and there was a tense calm like baited breath. Here was the edge; they could back away slowly and try to repair what had been done in reckless yearning, or take a prayer and a leap and tumble over the precipice in a flurry of limbs and lips. Both boys paused, muscles tensed, panting, as panthers ready to fight, their eyes fixed on one another. Remus used the opportunity to drink in Sirius, noticing for the first time how beautiful the naked body was. No breaks or rough edges, just a smooth, flowing form, an unbroken line, curved and gentle. The dim lighting made shadows grow on Sirius' skin, highlighting muscles and creases in his skin where he bent over shading the soft arcs of flesh and a soft glow caressed his forehead where beads of sweat had begun to form. The naked body was breathtaking, powerful yet delicate, living art that expanded and changed as it breathed, and was right now scrutinising Remus with the same intensity through fathomless grey eyes.

Remus blushed, ashamed, as he thought of his own body displayed so obviously. A pale, ragged patchwork of scars, broken skin stretched over small, protruding bones, and yet Sirius was gazing at his tattered form with the same reverence that Remus felt was owed the dazzling Black physique. He wrapped thin arms around himself apologetically, and was surprised when Sirius frowned in disappointment. He hated his body, and loathed the thought of anybody seeing it, changing always behind the safe barrier of his bed curtains. He always kept himself private, never letting anyone too close; he wrapped his body and himself in a protective shroud of distance and secrecy. A life alone was better than a life scorned.

And now here he lay, naked and exposed, and found other's emotions to be not that of disgust, but of admiration and longing. And concern, as Sirius noticed Remus' discomfort. Sirius knew, Sirius knew about Remus' absent self-esteem, Sirius knew that he couldn't bear to let anyone close, Sirius knew that he was a virgin, in fact Sirius knew a great deal more than Remus would have liked anyone to know about him.

Sirius reached out, slowly and gently, and stroked the back of Remus' hand that was clamped to his chest. There was only a small scar here, injuries to his hands tending to be small and easy to heal. Sirius knew about these, too. Sirius knew a lot about these. His finger tips made feather steps to his arm, where they gently traced the white lines that wound about in twisted branches. Remus flinched but did not pull away. Sirius became bolder, leaning closer and walking his fingers through the hollow of Remus' collar bone. With one hand he gently removed Remus' arms from their protective grip and with the other he caressed his chest, where the scars were longest and deepest. Purple and pink and white, all were explored by the tender strokes, discovered not with repulsion, but with care and affection. Sirius fixed Remus with a sincere gaze and raised his right hand to the pale boy's cheek.

"You are beautiful."

This simple declaration was so heartfelt and genuine that Remus, who could not have disagreed more, believed it. He did not know whether to scream with joy or cry with gratitude. He compromised by laughing, which at first startled Sirius, but feeling Remus relax under his hands he grinned, too, and with a raised eyebrow moved his hand slowly down from his chest towards his stomach. His fingers began to move in little circles, which spiralled lower, and lower.

And the passion was back, desperate need seizing the two with a grip of fire as they clawed each other, and just as suddenly it stopped as Sirius tore himself away and fixed Remus with an anxious stare.

"Do you want to do this?"

Sirius had to ask. Remus knew he had to ask, he just didn't want him to. He wanted Sirius to be so far gone with desire that even if he should cry out in terror Sirius would not hear him over the rushing in his ears. To ask meant that Sirius could stop, that Sirius didn't need this. Remus wanted him to need this. He needed him to need it.

"Yes." The whisper was urgent and hoarse and to Remus' delight Sirius pounced upon the consent with an impulsive glee and stole a deep, greedy kiss from Remus' parted lips before fumbling for his discarded wand to lock the door and set a spell around the hangings to conceal their passionate activities.

"Yes."

Sham