Disclaimer: With the exceptions of Anne and Lucy, no one herein is actually mine, and, frankly, Anne and Lucy are just there for plot points, so they don't count.

A/N: References to Peter/OFC and Sirius/OFC. Also, written for day seven of LJ's S/R Tell Me A Kiss challenge.

"Thing is, Moony," Peter explains through a mouthful of fish. "You can't let it get to you."

"Exactly," James adds emphatically. "He likes birds, you like him, and there's nothing to be done about it."

"Idn't one o' the Prewetts a poofter too?"

"Yeah, Gideon, I think…"

Well, bless them for trying! Fat lot of good that does!

Tilting his head back, Remus shuts his eyes and silently curses two of his best mates for being such prats the past few days. First it was, "Look, Wormy, Moony keeps a bloody diary, like a namby-pamby nance! Let's read it out loud while Padfoot's in detention!" Then it was, "Moony, mate, you need to talk to someone other than your poncy diary about this. So quit being such a pillock and talk to me and Wormtail. …We can so be sensitive, and understanding, and all that nancy boy rubbish. I am not being nosy! I just care about my mates!" And now, here they are, sitting around lunch at the Three Broomsticks, wasting a perfectly good Hogsmeade weekend and making Remus's insides squirm with uncomfortable questions, none of which he wanted to answer, not even to his best mates. Not that they're not really his best mates, and it's hard to love one of them and not expect questions from the other two, but…no one should have to know.

Actually, if he told anyone, it'd be Lily. Sure, Peter and Sirius don't like her because she won't "come off it and date Prongs," but she's always been nice to Remus – even if she hates them and he's their friend – and she's saved his arse several times already this year simply by being a better, more effective prefect. He still doesn't understand why he got the badge: sure, he's more responsible than Sirius, James, and Peter, but…he can't tell them to stop and expect anything from it. Besides, Lily's "sensitive, and understanding, and all that nancy boy rubbish." Part of him supposes that this must just come with being a girl, but that doesn't bode well for him at all: a fifteen-year-old, poetry-reading and writing, classical music-appreciating, gay werewolf with top marks in Charms, which is (according to James) "useless," and Defense Against the Dark Arts, which is just blindingly ironic. To protect his pride, he concedes that, while she's an amazing person, it is solely on the basis that she's amazing, not because she's female.

And he's still stuck in this damn pub, wasting a perfectly nice Hogsmeade day trying to avoid, shirk, and skirt all discussion of his sexuality and attraction to Sirius.

Granted, it's raining heavily, so the day isn't exactly nice – especially since Sirius has abandoned him with these two over-inquisitive plonkers – but he can still be somewhere else, like Honeyduke's…or the library…or the Shack…or Hell. Just about anywhere is preferable to sitting in the Three Broomsticks with two friends who are prattling needlessly about "whether or not Gideon Prewett is a bleedin' poof" and a lunch that he isn't eating. He doesn't quite plan on eating it either…fish and chips is Peter and James's thing, not his. If Sirius wasn't over at Madame Puddifoot's with that Ravenclaw fourth-year he's been mercilessly trying to seduce, then they could split something better than bloody fish and chips, but…he's there, James and Peter are boring, and Remus is both broke and adamant about not letting James and Sirius buy him things.

"Moony," James coos mockingly, waving a hand in front of his face. "Earth to Remus J. Lupin, are you in there, mate?"

"Yes, Prongs," Remus snaps. "I bloody well am."

"Oy!" Peter huffs. "No need to get tetchy…"

"I tried to tell you two that I don't want to talk about this, but no. Had to pester me, didn't you?"

"'s not pestering, mate! 's looking out for our Moony!"

"…I'm not doing anything that needs looking out for, thank you very much."

"But you're…shite, James, what's the word?"

"Repressing?"

"Yes! Thanks! You're repressing your feelings, and it's only going to end badly! I mean…look at what happened with James when he tried to spend a week without ogling Evans!"

"Traitor! You said you'd never talk about that!"

"…In all fairness, Wormtail, I don't think I'm at risk for…what'd you and Sirius call it? 'Wank-itis' or something ridiculous like that?"

"Spending a Saturday wanking is not a disease, you two!"

"Either way," Remus huffs. "Whom I like is no business of yours, and I do mean both of you."

"But it's Padfoot, Moony!" James hisses desperately, grabbing one of Remus's bony wrists with both hands. "Bloody buggering Padfoot!"

"So?"

"It's gonna tear us apart!" Peter whined. "I can already feel it…the sexual tension…pulling…at the…bonds of friendship!"

"Don't be daft, Wormtail; it's not going to have an effect on us or our friendship."

"But it'll have an effect on you, Moony!" James pulls Remus forward, as though this emphasizes his so-called "point." "You've got to talk to someone other than that bloody diary of yours…and that's what we're here for!"

"You've spent the past hour and a half saying the same thing, but doing nothing to back yourself up."

"Tearing…ripping…Moony, it hurts! Make it stop!"

"Shut up, Wormtail. But he has a point, kind of…why the Hell are you in love with Padfoot? I mean, don't care that you're a poofter, that can't be helped or anything so it's not worth it to try, but…Padfoot?"

"Why does it matter?"

"But…Hogwarts is huge! There are so many other blokes!"

"Like that Hufflepuff Seeker," Peter interjects spiritedly. "Salinger, or whatever his name is. He's a top-marks student and…I mean, I'm not gay or anything, but…he's taller than Padfoot, he's got a nicer build than Padfoot, he doesn't drink so much at parties, he's bloody hilarious, and, from what I've gotten out of Anne…he's not a bad dancer, either…and he's gay, really gay. Gayer than Gideon Prewett anyway, and Anne backs me up on that."

Peter grins and blushes; he doesn't mean to flaunt how he's the first, after Sirius, to have a girlfriend (or boyfriend…or anything of the sort), he's just really happy that someone other than his mum sees something in him. And it's not that Anne's not a nice girl – she's blonde, admittedly pretty for a girl, cheerful, patient, and not a bad hand at Care of Magical Creatures – but…Remus really doesn't appreciate having his face shoved in the fact that awkward, clumsy, stupid little Peter can get companionship out of someone, while he (a Prefect, and top-marks, or close enough, student in everything but Divination and Potions) is sitting here, obsessed with one of his best mates. And James has his fan club, but is devoted to hunting Lily, who he never gets because, for all the charm he exudes on the other girls, he's that much more repulsive to her…at least someone in this motley assembly of hormones still has a brain about them. It's rather depressing for Remus that it's not him, but…his friends can be happy first.

"Did you ever stop and consider that maybe I don't care about Salinger's good points?" he sighs heatedly. "I'll give you that, on the surface, he's a better catch than Sirius…but I don't care."

"What about that Ravenclaw Gobstones bloke, Greenwood?" James inquires, blinking owlishly as he cleans his glasses on his robes. "He's got a good sense of humor, and he's in Ravenclaw, so you can have meaningful talks about all those whiny Muggle poets you like."

"…I could have those with Sirius; it'd just be hard. Besides, you're missing the point."

"No, you are. You're completely not telling us what you see in that daft git."

"If he's such a daft git, why are you friends with him?"

"He's my brother by another mother, Moony, mate! I mean, the differences…you've met my mum and heard about his, and…yeah, but…we're still brothers!"

"And he keeps me around." Peter shrugs. "I mean, you all do, and so does he, and…but still! He's…why him, Moony!"

"Do you really want to know?" Remus huffs; they both nod. "Fine. I like him because he's witty and doesn't talk about sex all the time, he was the first to figure out about the…furry little problem and he devised your whole plan, he knows exactly how to bring me out of a foul mood – and no, it isn't always chocolate – he was the first of you lot to bloody talk to me-"

"Oh come on, Moony!" James groans. "We read all that in your poncy little diary!"

"It's a journal, James!" He snaps again; Merlin, he's going to lose it soon; he feels it coming. "And you had no right to read it out loud, even if it was just us! That's another thing! I suppose you think everyone but Lily and Peter's after you, but I'm not, and thank Merlin for that! But see, unlike you, Sirius respects my bloody privacy!"

"Moony, if you wanted me to stop, you could've-"

"I did tell you! I asked you nicely to stop, first with the journal and now with the harassment, but no! James Potter stops for no one!"

Oh Merlin, he's lost it. But at least his anger manifests itself more as a glare and an uncomfortable silence. And, luckily for James, they've managed to keep their voices down while still hearing each other, so no one beyond the three of them know a thing. Still, Remus rips his wrist away violently and gives James the dirtiest look he can muster; for once in his life, James's face actually has a look of shame on it, and he doesn't even seem to entertain the idea of laughing. Usually, when Remus is angry, there's a Sirius there to placate him, which turns the fury into amusement soon enough. Now, however, James is going to have to take it like a man, and he bloody well deserves it. To emphasize this, Remus makes them sit in silence for several minutes; he doesn't mean to, it just happens…but it's the best form of punishment for a noisy troublemaker and his one-boy fan club.

"…You should at least tell him, Remus," Peter says finally, sounding more sober than he ever has in the going-on five years that they've been friends. "I mean…he'd want to know."

"Oh, sod it all," Remus hisses, and he storms out, tuning out James's protests that it's raining this, and he'll make himself ill that, and they will be talking about this back at the dormitory.

Remus shuffles down the main street, hands in pockets and head down. Bloody, stupid James, and bloody, sycophantic Peter…the reasonable part of his brain reminds him that they're just trying to help, but he doesn't really care right now. Sloshing through the mud, he vaguely entertains the possibility that Peter has a point, but he wants to be bitter right now and spitefully reminds himself that any point Peter's ever had has either been stolen from James and/or Sirius, or completely worthless. Occasionally, he's even done both at the same time. …Merlin, Remus is suddenly overwhelmed by a desire for a place to sit down. Somewhere covered, hopefully, but not inside. He has no business being inside. Grimacing, he looks up and peers around the street…perfect! The wall outside Madame Puddifoot's…oh. Wait. Hardly worth going there if Sirius is just going to come out later with that Ravenclaw…what? For no reason whatsoever, Sirius is sitting outside, on the bench, in the rain and a completely soaked-through white oxford; biting his lip, Remus looks away from the fact that the cotton is clinging to his friend's body and sits down next to him.

Slowly, Sirius looks up at him, and it's impossible to tell whether he's been crying or not. One the one hand, his eyes are red and puffy, but…then again, the wetness on his face his probably just from the rain. He chuckles at the half-bewildered, half-wrathful expression on Remus's face, musses his hair, and smiles weakly.

"What's wrong, mate?" he sighs warmly.

"…Nothing," Remus replies quickly. "You?"

"Broke it off with Lucy…it was, uh…messy."

"…I'm sorry. Where's your coat?"

"Left it inside…haven't had the heart to go get it yet."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah, thing is…she's a nice girl, and I really wanted to like her, but…I really don't. Told her that, so she…threw an empty teacup at me, missing me but breaking it, shrieked for everyone to hear that I'm a…oh, Merlin, what were her exact words? …Well, they're not coming to me, but they were something or other along the lines of, 'arrogant, self-serving, heartless git.'"

"Clearly, she's delusional."

"…If there's the slightest hint of sarcasm there, I'm going to punch you in the mouth."

"There's not, trust me. Can't be sarcastic after Jim and Pete…no."

"After Jim and Pete what, Moony?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Okay." Sirius nods, understanding. "Wanna hear a funny story?"

"Like…'laugh out loud' funny or 'bitterly appropriate for the situation' funny?"

"The second one."

"Sure. Why not?"

"Alright then…it's about how I knew I had to break if off with her." He waits for a nod before continuing. "Anyway, we've been 'going out' for three weeks, totally daft bird-concept, this 'going out.' And, it's been nagging me since we started that she's mostly interested in my sex, and not me…and me, I'm not interested in her at all. Complete turn off, more than the thought of shagging one of my cousins for Pureblood supremacy, even."

"…Wow, that must really be bad, if incest is better."

"I know, but you know what the real stinger about this is? I can't shag her, because I love someone else."

"…It's not Lily, is it? Because James will kill you-"

"Not Evans, far from it."

Remus wracked his mind for the most unlikely female candidates, who also didn't share blood with Sirius. "Bertha Jorkins?"

"…No, thank Merlin. Look, do you want me to tell you?"

"Fine, put me out of my misery."

"It's…well, it's actually really ridiculous, because I think this person loves me back, but it's too hard to tell…and I'm abso-bloody-lutely terrified that this person isn't, and that they'll be afraid or something…"

"Pads…who the Hell is it already?"

"You."

Sirius looks at Remus without the slightest hint of regret, or – even worse – of dishonesty. There's no way he's faking this; there's too much hurt in those enthralling gray eyes for that. Softly, he tickles under Remus's chin with three fingers, and smiles sincerely when his victim giggles. And the perfection of it all, two misfit boys (one Pureblood outcast and one bookish werewolf) sitting together on a bench, admitting with words and noises that they want to be together…it's too much, Remus thinks. That is, until Sirius delicately puts his hand on Remus's, then, not too subtly, brings his lips to Remus's counterparts as well. Although he can't speak for Sirius, Remus enjoys it more than anything he's ever experienced: the hair on the back of his neck is trying to leap out of his skin, and the torched, beauteous flame burns finally in his chest instead of sitting there, subdued. Even though there are people watching and Sirius is sopping wet, Remus wiggles one hand loose and throws both arms around the taller boy's shoulders, pulling him in deeper.

They're only broken apart by an exasperated, and completely James, groan coming from behind:

"Oh bloody, buggering Merlin! They're going to be intolerable after this!"

Sirius looks up from Remus and grins deviously, as Remus turns his head to put on a coy, "who me" look, he sees why: James and Peter are standing under an umbrella, watching. Rather, James is watching and Peter is looking around for Anne. For an extra bit of relish, Sirius surreptitiously sneaks a hand underneath Remus's knees, and, with the other arm behind his back, lifts the brown-haired boy up, placing him on his own lap. This time, a hand goes around Remus's waist to keep him balanced. As one, they look at James and Peter; Peter shrugs acquiescingly, but James has to groan…again. Finally, though, he sighs.

"Fine…if you must! But I better not find bloody dog hair in your bed, Moony!"