A/N: God, has it been eleven days already? Crap, I'm sorry. I hope no one's dead. I really did intend to be done with this chapter sooner, but I spontaneously came down with total exhaustion and writers block combined, plus a full schedule all weekend. So yeah. Many apologies, followed by shutting up and getting on with the chapter.

It's Always the Quiet Ones.

Chapter Six.

He started out with "I'm a hypocrite." I didn't understand, and told him so.

"Huh?"

"I'm a hypocrite," he said again.

"Yeah, I heard you the first time. I mean, how are you a hypocrite?" I said.

Remus didn't answer my question directly. Instead, he said, "I'm a hypocrite and I... I don't want James and Peter to know."

"How about me?" My question was accompanied by my heart suddenly drawing attention to itself for no apparent reason.

"Well, you already knew," Remus said.

"Huh?"

It clearly was not one of my more eloquent days. Remus looked at me as if I were dense. Which I guess, in all honesty, I probably was.

"In the shower that one morning?" he prompted.

Understanding washed through me, only to be followed by more confusion.

"You told me that never happened?" It was a statement, but it was also a question.

Remus flopped onto the bed before answering, pinning my legs once again. The warmth of his body was strangely comforting. After letting out a deep breath, he said "I did tell you that."

"Well?" I prompted after he failed to elaborate.

"Well what?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. "You're no good at playing ignorant," I said. "Well why did you pretend that nothing happened?"

Remus shrugged from his sprawled position. "It's what I do. I figured if I could convince you that it was a dream, it would be like it never happened."

The silence that followed was so total that I could hear frogs croaking down by the lake, and the fly that had somehow made its way into our dorm sounded like a motorcycle.

A moving motorcycle.

All that misery because he'd wanted to pretend like nothing happened?

A faint scream echoed through the corridors; no doubt some third years getting into their first duel or something. Hagrid's dog barked.

And then, just before I started to yell, there was another sound.

The sound of considerable gas squeezing rapidly through a rather small hole.

(Not my hole, mind you.)

As if by a switch, the tension suddenly vanished from the room. My 'you made me suffer through three whole days of miserable awkwardness so that you could keep your bloody reputation?' died in my throat only to be reincarnated as laughter.

So much laughter.

The exact ingredient in a fart that makes it so hilarious is beyond me. In fact, I ponder that question late at night while trying to fall asleep.

Sometimes.

Is it the sound? Or perhaps the attention it draws to one's rear end. Their uncanny ability to break forth at the worst possible moment?

Whatever the reason, this particular fart practically killed us we laughed so hard.

"Situational irony," gasped Remus after a few minutes of that.

"Huh?" And god damn it, more lapses in eloquence. It just wasn't my day.

Luckily, Remus went on. "It's why my flatulence was so funny just now. You were just about to get really mad because I made you suffer so that I wouldn't look bad—well deserved anger, I'm sure, and I'm very sorry about that—and it was going to be all significant and terrible and could have led to weeks of fighting between us but instead," he took a breath, "Instead, I let one rip and that was the most trivial, insignificant thing in the world, and when it happened right in the middle of all that tension... It was really funny."

All I could do was gape at him. It was as if he could read minds. Not only had he known that I had been about to blow up, but also why. And, he answered my question about why we were laughing so hard when I hadn't even asked it.

"How did you know I was wondering about that?" I finally asked.

Remus shrugged. "Maybe I'm just psychic," he said. "Or maybe I know what kind of crap floats around in your mind as a side effect of living with you for the last six and a half years."

"I guess that's possible," I said. "Now, did I hear an apology buried somewhere in that big long monologue, my darling moon-face?"

"Moon-face?"

"Don't question it."

Remus nodded. "Right. Yes, yes you did. Hear an apology, that is. Really, Sirius, I'm sorry."

I grinned. "Thanks, Rem. I'm sorry too. I wasn't thinking," I said.

Remus snorted. "Like that's new," he said. Then, "Well, this is getting a bit gushy and clichéd for me. I think I'll be heading back downstairs."

He sat up, and as he went to stand, I pulled him back. "One more question," I said.

Remus sighed and dropped back to the bed, this time landing closer to my face than before. "Yeah?" he asked as he rested his head and elbow on my side.

For a moment, I lost my train of thought. And damn it, there went Sirius Black's Rule of Conduct #18: Never lose your train of thought.

I glanced at Remus and was slightly confused by the knowing grin that adorned his face. But the unusual expression brought back what I had been meaning to say in the first place, so I ignored it for the time being.

"That time in the corridor outside Transfiguration," I said. "How the hell were you able to have that conversation without blushing?"

That question itself was met by a blush, proving my point that Remus had a rather low embarrassment tolerance level.

"Sirius, my entire life is a lie," he said. "I'm pretty damn good at acting when I want to be."

"Well yeah," I said. "But not usually about that."

"Actually, you're wrong," said Remus. And then, before I could speak, he was gone from the room.

I was wrong? I was wrong about what? Was Remus hiding not only being gay but also some secret sex life?

Suddenly, I wasn't tried anymore. Not that I had ever really been tired, but now there was no chance in hell I was going to sleep any sooner than midnight.

I doubted my mind had been this full since... ever, really.

A/N: And there we go. Sorry again for the longer-than-intended wait. Thanks to everyone who reviewed once again... you guys are my heroes.