Disclaimer -- My friend told me I don't own it. God, how depressing. Maybe she's lying to me.

Note -- Remember the promised sequel to "Collar"? No? Okay, doesn't matter. This is third in the series, and the fourth rewrite. Drop me a line if you want to read the others, each is totally different. And incidentally, yes, I am hard on Remus in these stories, as a reviewer told me; they are reasonably old. I like them, though.

Dedicated to the three people who finally told me to post the dang sequels, already.

Thanks for Howling

There is a certain kind of alcoholic for whom it is possible not to sleep all night. If the drug is taken slowly and with caution, it does not completely overpower the senses and send the drinker to sleep. Some say that the resulting foul compound of sleep deprivation and hangover is not worth the slow and creeping pleasure. Some cannot find it within themselves to care.

And if one does stay up all night drinking, there is a precarious balance between drunkenness and hangover. A time comes when the drinker shuffles and shudders his way out of his open-eyed daze at the table and looks around to the long, bright, painful morning. At this point, inebriation is done with and the hangover is just beginning. Sirius was pretty well into the hangover phase.

"My last remaining lucky star is about to become a black hole."

This pearl of wisdom was dispensed by Remus, who was in the kitchen making coffee. The coffee was for Sirius; Remus found its dark and bitter taste too much for him.

"You don't know that," Sirius argued. "Maybe it'll go supernova."

"It will not," said Remus with dignity. "It was a relatively small, yellowish star which went nova when you got out of prison, then collapsed back into a star under the force of its own gravity. A slightly warmer star, but not much. And now it's going down to a black hole again."

"Why?" Sirius asked, watching Remus make tea for himself. He was what James Potter's father used to call a "tea purist." He drank Earl Grey with lemon and honey, with sometimes a splash of brandy to top off the mug. Remus turned and brought both cups to the table.

"Because this is killing you," Remus said simply. "Drink your coffee."

Sirius did not answer. Neither the wisdom of the order nor the truth of the statement could be disputed. He drank his coffee.

Remus knew better than anyone how this confinement was affecting Sirius. If he had been younger and more reckless, he would have suggested that they go on the run together. If Sirius chose such a path, Remus would surely join him, but it was too late, now, for his practical nature to let him suggest it. No, he was satisified with this. They were fighting Voldemort; they were doing their best to support James's son; they were living together, at last, without the distractions of other concerns, other lovers. They had a room at the northeast corner of the attic, a plain whitewashed room with two windows and a frosted skylight, furnished with items salvaged from other parts of the house. Since you had to go through a broom closet and up some back stairs, and then navigate the attic, to get there, it was a little haven of privacy. Both had wondered about the plain, out-of-the-way room. Remus was convinced that someone's mad relative had once been shut up there, pointing out that the splendidly wrought, ornamental iron grille over the windows could easily double as functional bars. Sirius agreed about the ironwork, but he said it had been a prison for a rebellious teenager who refused to conform to family values. Remus wondered sometimes if he knew that for a fact.

Remus took Sirius's cup and refilled it. "Coffee reminds me of you," he commented.

"Aren't we just full of analogies today." Sirius meant the sarcastic comment to be affectionate. Remus took it that way.

"It does, though," Remus told him. "It's strong, dark, and bitter, but if you mix in sugar and cream it's just wonderful."

Sirius looked at him guardedly. "What?" asked Remus.

"You hate coffee," said Sirius. "You used to, anyway. Should I feel threatened?"

Remus laughed. "No. I've gotten used to it, I don't mind it so much now. I wouldn't drink it, though."

Sirius cocked his head to one side, trying to figure out whether that came out to a compliment. At last he said, "You do know that I would never say this if it weren't for the alcohol pumping in and out of my brain –"

"Oh, dear," said Remus, with an odd half-smile. "That's where you were last night. You're cheating on me with a vodka martini."

Sirius offered a slightly sour smile. "Mainly because I'm trying to get up the courage to ask this. And you aren't helping."

Remus nodded soberly. He reached across the table and briefly covered Sirius's hand with his own. "Ask. You can always ask."

"Did you sleep with anyone else?" Sirius mumbled.

Remus was looking at him in open surprise. "I mean," Sirius hastened to qualify, "I'm sure you did. You're really good-looking, even now that you look older than you did. Maybe even more now. I just meant – who?"

Remus laughed softly. "Do you want the truth, or do you want me to say I was faithful to your memory? There were others. None of them were you, but I tried for a few years. After a while, I gave up. That's all," he concluded.

Sirius looked at him closely. "Anyone I know?"

Remus startled them both by laughing aloud. "Yes, I slept with Chris a few times. Then he had yet another crisis and decided he was straight after all. Happy now?"

"How did you know that's what I wanted?" Sirius asked.

Remus shook his head, laughing softly. "The biggest fight we ever had was about dear Chris."

"Was that really the biggest?" asked Sirius.

Remus got up for more tea. "It was for me. You really got me angry that time. I told you things I never thought anyone would know." He looked out the small window over the sink, quiet and pensive. The early glow of dawn lit his face, giving him a peculiar beauty even as it showed his false age. "The fight wasn't about Chris. Sleeping with Chris wasn't about Chris, so we know the fight wasn't. It was about me, and you, and Lucius, and my father, and of course, the waitress in the green skirt."

Sirius was startled. "You remember her?"

Remus nodded, startled. "That's who you were with, wasn't it?"

"No," said Sirius, looking highly offended. "I only remember her because that's how the whole Chris fiasco got started. I don't even remember her name. It was Thanne Simms I was sleeping with – from work."

Remus laughed and continued to ransack the pantry for another lemon. "I remember Thanne. She kissed me in third year when I helped with her Astronomy. She wore the same perfume as the waitress, then, I suppose."

Sirius looked at Remus admiringly. "Only you would ever have noticed."

"So that's what it was really about," Remus decided, finding a spoon from a drawer. Sirius had put away the silver cutlery, replacing it with stainless steel purchased by Tonks in a Muggle shop.

"And the book," Sirius reminded him. "That too, wasn't it. That you wanted to publish it yourself, and then I was stupid ..."

"And James and Lily," Remus went on, "and the fact that we're the two least compatible men in wizarding Britain. I'm pretty sure that's all."

Sirius rose and rode out the pounding head and slight nausea. Remus was looking into the swirling tea as though to divine their future. Sirius crossed the kitchen and plucked the spoon from Remus's hand. He laid it on the marble countertop and took Remus's hands, pulling him across the counter for a long, intimate kiss.

"You taste like alcohol and coffee," Remus informed him as they broke apart.

"And you taste like tea and chocolate. Just like you always have." Sirius pulled Remus back to his chair and got his tea for him. "When I was in Azkaban, I would howl at the moon every time it reached the full."

Remus touched Sirius's hand holding the teacup, then ran his fingers up Sirius's arm. "Thank you," he said. "For howling."

Sirius kissed him, the kind of brusque, dry kiss which still reminded Remus of school. "Not a problem."

End

And ... one more story, coming soon. A three-chapter which I really like. And then, exciting new material, nature as yet unknown!