Howdy, been a while, but I'm working hard in my Uni life. But I'm not forgetting these stories, I'm actuallyreallyexcited about this one so don't give up on it! Sorry to all those fans of Sirius who feel insulted at his portrayal here, if you want a sweeter SB/RL fic why not check out my other slash fics A Marauders Christmas (out of season, I know) and A Walk in the Park, shameless plug, I know, I'm sorry.

Anyway, this is the story you're here for...

Remus awoke slowly; surfacing gently from the dark, calm waters of sleep. The familiar sound of Sirius' rhythmic snores were as steady as the ebb and flow of the tide, regular and soothing as Remus gradually regained consciousness.

It was dark now, with only thin shards of silver moonlight slicing gaps in the four poster curtains. Remus idly wondered what time it was and at this thought his heart jumped and began to fling itself recklessly around his ribcage. James and Peter! Were they back yet? Had they noticed the empty bed by the window? Or wondered why Sirius' hangings were so suspiciously closed?

An expert at stealth, Remus did not make a sound as he hooked a finger round the dark curtain by his head and gently moved the heavy fabric which whispered conspiratorially across the floor. He peered into the dim room and let a relieved sigh rush past his lips. There was no figure in James' bed and Peter's permanently tidy sheets were as crisp and neat as he had arranged them that morning.

Remus once more turned his attention to the time, however, his left arm (and therefore his watch) was currently pinned to the mattress by Sirius' neck and the sleeping boy showed no desire to release his captive. With all the care of a magician as he whisks the tablecloth from beneath the expensive chinaware Remus slid his arm out from its prison and massaged the life back into his hand as he studied his watch.

Only nine o'clock? He couldn't have been asleep for very long. With a mind still foggy from the clouds of sleep and confused by excited ribbons of delight Remus tried to re-assemble the unusual evening.

Dinner had been at six, of course, and they had made the gratifying and still hilarious visit to the Slytherin common room at half past seven. They must have made it back to the safety of the Gryffindor dorms before eight, surely. And then, well, what happened after had felt like it had lasted forever. Here was the point where his mind collapsed, surprise and joy threading colourful webs through the grey matter of his brain in such an awkward, wonderful tangle Remus felt like he had to bend his thoughts round corkscrews to keep hold of them.

It was frustrating; so long had his thoughts been concerned with being with Sirius, denial, resignation, guilty daydreams, and yet now when it finally happened he could barely recall the memory properly. He wanted to analyse it academically, detail it exactly, pin it to the page and say 'there, that's how it was', but the memory was an elusive butterfly, beautiful, teasing and utterly indefinable.

It had been painful, although not as much as Remus had been expecting; Sirius was very gentle. Remus knew Sirius was experienced sexually – hell, who didn't? – but Remus was sure that he'd never enjoyed a man before. Yet his hands and movements were so sure and delicate, guiding with such considerate certainty that Remus could not believe this was his first time. When he managed to locate his tongue to comment Sirius merely replied, with utter nonchalance, "Some chicks dig it this way."

Even if Remus had wanted to hear more his mind was deafened by intense delight as Sirius' ministrations hot wired his brain and sent words and thoughts melting out of his ears. It was pleasurable. Sweet Merlin it was pleasurable. He became just a huge puppet for Sirius as his nimble fingers drew ecstatic moans and twitches that Remus was helpless to prevent. As they progressed Sirius' own groans were added to the excited cacophony and knowing that he, too, could make Sirius feel the same gratification sent Remus' own enjoyment spiralling out of control in a whirlwind of bliss. Small shocks pulsed from his outstretched fingers, from the tips of his toes, from each upstanding hair on his head and neck, travelling down his nerves in waves of liquid gold, pouring into the dancing fire below his stomach, yearning, pleading, desperate for more. And after the explosion, despite wearied limbs, Remus felt dizzy and light, and imagined that if a breeze were to whisper through the dorms he would be lifted from the bed with no more difficulty than a feather.

So, there was pain, and there was undeniable pleasure, but to Remus' frustration the experience belonged to neither category. This was something new, something different, and it refused to be moulded to so simple a box as the neat files that made up Remus' ordered brain.

It had felt natural, raw, animal. No, Remus knew animal, and the need and affection and love was something human, the essence of human with all the pretences, the silken layers of charade cast off and disregarded. Stripped of clothes, stripped of inhibition, stripped even of thought he had been utterly exposed, and, to his eternal surprise, he had enjoyed it. When his shields and defences had been dissolved by the irrepressible lust there had just been the solid core that was Remus Lupin, pure and true, violent and relentless, beautiful and hideous and utterly breathtaking. And once that had been discovered nothing felt the same – once it was over Remus had floated back from the clouds of ecstasy and sunk back into his sweat drenched body and it did not seem to feet. Pins and needles coursed his hands and feet, stretching to accommodate this older, wider soul, and his face was being decidedly disobedient; Remus was unable to stop the right corner of his mouth twitching up in an effort to reach his ear, displaying an unusually mischievous grin.

And there it went again. As Sirius' eyes fluttered open in the darkness Remus' cheek contorted as his lips spread into an unstoppable smile. Sirius' hair was dishevelled, a tangle of jet silk, grey eyes dim and sleepy and a crimson print marking the pale cheek where he had leaned on his hand. Yet he still looked beautiful as he smiled, the familiar self-satisfied grin, at the naked boy gazing down at him.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time." He yawned.

Remus' heart leapt, but in two conflicting directions. His already soaring spirits fluttered happily around this confession, Sirius Black, constant object of doomed affections, had wanted to do intensely private things to him, Remus Lupin. Sirius Black, multiple heartbreaker and all-round popular piece of perfection had wanted to ravish (and hopefully other secret desires Remus had often guiltily dreamed of) a lonely, plain werewolf, and had wanted to do so for a long time. The reciprocation of his own feelings unsurprisingly made Remus shiver with glee, but a nagging doubt tugged his bobbing spirits, weighing them down with his natural hesitating pessimism.

I've wanted to do that for a long time.

The words themselves were thrilling and wonderful, satisfying all Remus' deeply buried hopes, but there was a slight edge to Sirius' voice, a small shadow lurking beneath the idyllic surface of his words that made him hesitate. Sirius made it sound like a conquest, a goal achieved, like coasting through an O in Transfiguration, or a prank achieved. In fact, the smug smirk twisting his features was the same one he had worn earlier that evening when contemplating the chaos in the Slytherin Common Room.

Remus tried to dismiss the poisonous thought, but it was not readily shaken off. He felt like a checked box, a swift tick above the signature of Sirius Black, done that, thankyou very much and that'll be all, form sent off and forgotten about. He tried, but he couldn't ignore the uncertainty in that simple comment, it was like a cut he knew he shouldn't pick, but he had to anyway. What did this mean to Sirius? What did he want?

"Sirius? What happens now?"

Remus had been friends with Sirius long enough to know that questions of this kind were not what he wanted after only the first romantic encounter, but he couldn't help himself. Just as he expected Sirius screwed his face into a still sleepy grimace and sighed.

"About what? About Joanne?"

Shit. How could he have forgotten about Joanne? Sirius' girlfriend of a month - a record for the habitual Casanova - and too nice to be expected to cope with this betrayal. Remus felt worthless, he had let his own selfish craving take over, and now it would be his fault when Sirius let her down. The guilt that always lay in wait in the pit of his stomach reared viciously and tightened its bitter coils around his chest.

Remus tried to disguise his failure to think of others with a feeble, apologetic joke.

"Well, yes," he replied, "Am I supposed to share you or what?" He laughed softly, but it was cut short when he realised his laugh was alone in the quiet, still air.

"I guess." The answer caught Remus so by surprise that he felt winded. He actually felt a blow hit, knocking the air from his lungs, eyes stinging and his stomach sinking painfully.

"That's not a problem is it?" His tone indicated that it shouldn't be a problem and Remus struggled to cover up his intense betrayal and disappointment as Sirius twisted to study him.

"Course not." This was more of a choke than a reply.

"I'm sorry Remus, but I'm just not ready for anything serious. You know that. You knew that, you know me better than anyone."

Remus nodded. This was true, he had known, and this mess was his own fault if he had been too caught up in silly, immature flights of fancy to remember it.

"I really like you, Remus." Sirius' hand caressed Remus' cheek, and he shuddered under his touch. Whether it was through longing or revulsion not even Remus could say.

Sirius leaned up and softly brought Remus' lips to his own. When they were unresponsive he feathered tiny kisses around his chin and down his neck, where he had last night discovered Remus was extremely sensitive. When his questing lips found their way back to Remus' his affection was returned as all resistance was dissolved in a wave of need.

Any love was better than none at all, after all. And how could a gay werewolf hope for anything more?

Persuasion achieved, Sirius glanced round the curtain into the dormitory, and his relief to find it empty was evident.

"I think it would be a good idea for both of us to keep this quiet, just for now." Sirius had the decency to fidget uncomfortably. "I just think it save a lot of pressure and tension that neither of us really want. Right?"

Remus had not the strength nor the will to resist those large, imploring eyes, but he did not agree instantly. Sirius stole another brief kiss before studying him once more.

"Right." Remus' reply was just a whisper, but Sirius heard it and smiled, relieved.

"It's best this way." He assured. "It could be quite fun, exciting. Our secret, just between us, not even Prongs."

Not even Prongs. Remus didn't know if Sirius was exploiting this weakness on purpose, and buried the suspicion immediately before it killed him.

"You and me," Sirius bit Remus' lower lip playfully, "we're something special."

Special. Remus latched onto that word and gripped it for dear life, anchoring his sanity. Special. His chance to be special.

Sirius granted him a few more tender, soft kisses but pulled away when Remus began to reciprocate.

"Not now." He nodded towards the empty beds outside the hangings that had once felt like a haven but now felt imposing and imprisoning. "They'll be back any minute. Goodnight, my Moony."

Remus understood this as his cue to leave and scuttled from Sirius' bed to his own, which was cold and unwelcoming compared to the snug heat he had just left. He shivered, still naked, and wrapped his sheets around him protectively, blushing as he padded round the room picking up discarded clothes thrown about in a fit of passion. Sirius had drawn apart the hangings and noticed what he was doing.

"Moony? You couldn't chuck me my stuff could you? While you're at it."

"No problem." Remus tossed each item onto the foot of Sirius' bed, who, being naturally untidy, left them there, satisfied.

"Night." Sirius gave him a confidential wink and snuggled deep into his pillow, slipping into sleep with untroubled ease.

Remus didn't reply but slipped back into his own bed, pulling on his pyjamas under the protection of his covers. As he lay back on his own pillow listening to the ebb and flow of Sirius' snores Remus felt like he was drowning.

Just on a totally weird tangent, finally saw Team America: World Police. Choked on my 8 Creme Eggs I was laughing so much! I love Trey Parker and am going to marry Matt Stone.

Sham