Author's Note: I am. so. sorry. This is INCREDIBLY LATE and I have only two words for that: "Writer's Block". And if you think that's not a valid excuse, then you're not a writer. It was physically painful for me to try and write this, and I had two drafts of the final section of this. As is, I still feel the ending is weak. But from here on in, there shall be no more beating around the bush for these two lads. Without further ado, enjoy!

It was supposed to be awkward. He could feel Remus breathing into his hair, the warmth of their foreheads together, and the reassurance of their hands entwined. The sobs came easily, in a way he'd never expected. He'd never cried in front of anyone before, but here he was, tears streaming down his face and his chest heaving with gulps of air.

"It's okay, Sirius," Remus whispered, and the irony of a teenage werewolf consoling Sirius about his family troubles was enough to force out a wet laugh. He snaked an arm awkwardly back around Remus' waist, feeling the other boy tense up.

"Thanks Rem," he sniffed, laughing weakly when he heard his own voice warble pathetically. Remus huffed a laugh, the warm air making the roots of Sirius' scalp tingle.

"Are you done being a lady, then?" Remus whispered, voice just as wet as Sirius'. "Because my back is going to snap in two here."

Sirius, despite himself, laughed uproariously, his sides pinching and his eyes spilling over with fresh, happier tears. Remus giggled faintly, stretching himself back up into an upright sitting position.

"I'm rather comfortable, actually," Sirius smirked, gazing up at Remus. "Maybe you could find some grapes or something, feed me?" Remus gave a snort, shoving Sirius halfheartedly.

"You bint!"

Sirius chortled to himself, rolling his eyes and flexing his hand in Remus'.

"Come on love, have a bit of pity?"

Even as he spoke, he realized it wasn't the right thing to say.

"Shite, Remus, I didn't—" Sirius sat up, carefully avoiding smacking his forehead into Remus' chin, their hands falling away.

"You didn't what?" Remus asked, and the gentle, playful glint in his eyes was enough to stop Sirius cold, but combined with that innocent, coy tone... The best, though, was that Sirius knew that Remus wasn't even doing it on purpose.

He must have been staring, because Remus looked down at his lap and Sirius could feel the gentle brush of their fingertips.

"You fidget," Sirius informed him, putting his hand over Remus'. Remus looked up, eyes wide and wary. "You mess with your hands, sometimes, when you're nervous." Sirius clarified, smiling slightly.

"I'm sorry." Remus murmured, again looking away- this time to the side. Sirius cussed internally, reaching out to turn Remus' face back.

"Don't you start apologizing."

"I'm s- … Oh."

The gentle pink was quickly rushing to Remus' cheeks, and Sirius could feel the heat bloom under his fingertips.

"Remus," Sirius started, thinking out loud, "I'm—"

"Yes," Remus interrupted, breathy, and it was an answer to a question Sirius hadn't yet asked.

Sirius leaned forward, but Remus must have too, a little bit, because their faces met sooner than Sirius had expected. He had his eyes closed, because that's what you do, but he realized belatedly that this might be something he'd want to see.

It wasn't truly a kiss. Their mouths only barely touched, but they stayed that way for a long moment, Sirius feeling the chapped, flaky texture of Remus' lips. He had a hand clutching one of Remus', the other supporting his weight against the mattress.

After what felt like eons, Sirius pulled back marginally, still close enough that when Remus spoke, Sirius could feel it against his mouth.

"James will be back soon," he whispered, his breath tasting faintly of peppermint as it breezed past Sirius' parted lips.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, leaning back further, and ran a hand back through his hair.

Remus was getting ready to leave when James got in.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked, sounding more than a bit chafed. Remus shrugged, avoiding the other boy's gaze.

"I think he was in the loo?" Remus offered, though he knew that Sirius had been in the bathroom for precisely fifteen minutes, having run in there after their little kiss.

"And where are you going?" James demanded, half-turned to face Remus, eyebrows raised. "It's nearly nine o'clock."

"I know," Remus returned, slightly snappier than he'd intended. "I just… I'm heading to the Astronomy tower. I'll be in before ten." He smiled gently, but didn't wait to hear what James would say.

He took the stairs two at a time, throwing a quick wave over his shoulder to Lily as he climbed out through the portrait hole.

The sensation of Sirius' mouth against Remus' own was still fresh and warm, no matter how many time he licked his lips or rubbed them with the back of his palm. It was too much to try and clear his mind while Sirius was just in the other room.

While he'd never admitted it, Remus had never been kissed before. Sirius had taken his first kiss. Remus' face flared anew as he ascended the plethora of stairs up to the tower roof door, heavy and oaken with a thick round iron handle. Outside the temperature was still freezing, even as the months worked their way into February. The air was cool against Remus' flushed cheeks.

The moon, though partially hidden by thin grey clouds, was only a day or so from entering the third quarter – or full half – phase of its journey. Already, though still fairly weak, he could feel the pull, heavy in his gut. Emotions were closer to the surface; he felt so much more carnal and out of control. The moon constantly guided Remus, subconsciously. He could always tell where it was in its cycle by the way he felt its prescience.

Somehow, along with the moon, Remus was now guided toward Sirius.

It was a strange, slow thing that had been building and culminating to this very point, this frozen night on the Astronomy Tower roof, mouth tingling and heart racing. At first, it was little things; beginning to truly know Sirius- what it meant when his mouth turned that way, how to treat him when his eyes were dark and hidden. It became, over time, like some sort of sway that Sirius held over him. Constantly in tune with the other boy, Remus began to be extremely empathetic towards Sirius. What started as bonding over mutual self-loathing – werewolf for Remus, family for Sirius – soon became something so much… more.

What this more was - or would become - was something still too far away and distantly fuzzy around the edges, so that Remus couldn't quite decide. However, just as he couldn't control the moon, so too could he not control he and Sirius' eminent collision. So, taking a deep breath, Remus braced himself and returned to the common room.

"Did you and Remus have it out again?"

Sirius jumped, James' voice echoing loudly in the otherwise bathroom.

"Ah…" Sirius zipped his trousers up and flushed. "No? I mean, no. No, we're okay. Why?"

"He's just gone off, seemed to be in a hurry," James explained, turning to face Sirius as he came out of the stall and moved to the sinks. "He was rather snappy too."

"Well, it's only a week and a half or so until the moon, right?" Sirius offered, washing his hands while James leaned against a nearby basin.

"Merlin's soiled trousers!"

"What!"

"Your face Sirius! What on earth?"

Glowering down at his hands, Sirius looked up into the mirror and was again reminded of what had started this all off. While the mark still was a potent violet color, the swelling had gone down considerably. Remus' miracle poultice seemed to be working, and fast.

"Just some Slytherins getting even. About time they grew a pair and came back at us, eh mate?" Sirius smiled lopsidedly, the bruise on his face making it painful to try and smile fully.

"You sure you're alright?" James inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about me. I do pity the birds though. I had such a gorgeous face-"

"You bloody wanker!" James grabbed Sirius by the robe and ground his knuckles playfully against Sirius' scalp.

"Ah, watch the hair!" Sirius barked a laugh, shoving James away. "You and me'll have to think of a great way to get back at them," he offered, smirking as devilishly as he could.

"You bet," James confirmed before he yawned loudly, and began to retreat. "Well, I'm going to head off to bed. See you in the morning."

"G'night," Sirius replied, waiting until the door had closed behind James before he leaned over the sink, holding his head in his hands. He could still feel Remus' lips against his own; the gentle pressure of his cold fingers applying the balm; the reassuring presence of their hands tangled together.

Sirius splashed a handful of cold water across his face, watching the drops pearl down and drip into the sink, and then moved to leave the bathroom.

Before he had fully come through the door, he stopped. There, standing beside his bed, was Remus. The other boy had taken off his robe and tossed it across the lid of his trunk, and was now, it seemed, unbuttoning his shirt. He'd already stripped out of his trousers and into a pair of grey, tattered sweatpants. Sirius held his breath, and waited, glad that Remus was looking the other way.

Remus removed his white button-up, his shoulder blades rolling smooth under his pale skin – not pale like Sirius' had been, and sometimes became, - not the aristocratic, lack-of-sun-exposure pale. No, Remus' skin had an unhealthy pallor to it. He tossed his shirt atop his robes, and Sirius watched as his pebbled spine arched under his skin; traced the lines of pink-ivory scars with his eyes across those broad shoulders, ribs, and some that seemed to stretch forever down into the unknown beneath the sweatpants. On his right hip, prominent and stark against the pale skin, was a black mark that looked suspiciously like a bite wound. Sirius bristled, but didn't move until Remus had pulled on an old white t-shirt.

As the door closed, Remus turned and Sirius looked up, their eyes locking. Suddenly, it was too awkward to consider getting undressed. Standing stiffly, Sirius waited until Remus had gotten into his own bed and closed the curtains before he stripped into pajamas and went to sleep.

xXx

xXx

It was late in March. The winter cold had yet to leave Hogwarts, and there was still a crisp, thin layer of snow on the grounds.

As if to taunt him, it seemed as if Remus and Sirius were alone together nearly every day since that fateful day in the dormitory. Now, standing together in the snow, Remus could honestly say that there was no more awkward silence- simply expectant tension.

The two stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, just past the hut of the half-giant groundskeeper, a massive man named Hagrid. With only an hour or so until lunch, Remus' stomach was curling in on itself and Sirius had begun to get antsy due to the absence of James.

"What do you suppose is in there?" Remus half-whispered, his words nearly lost in a sudden, whipping wind.

Sirius hunched his shoulders, a half shrug. "Well, there are werewolves…" he teased, smiling and nudging at Remus with his elbow. Remus gasped.

"How simply horrifying," he mocked, rolling his eyes. "Seriously Pads. Have you ever seen anything during your romps?"

It was hard to imagine seeing anything in that dense pack of trees. Even in the mid-morning sunlight, the canopy blocked most of the sunlight, leaving a dark, gloomy atmosphere.

"I've heard rumors of centaurs from some of the professors and upper years," Sirius mused, and Remus found himself gaping.

"Centaurs? Blimey."

"And then there's that story about the giant bloody spider. I'd hate to run into that thing." Sirius shivered, and Remus guessed it wasn't from the cold. Pulling his new scarf up over his face and nose, Remus smirked.

"Such a ninny," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Sirius turned, glaring heatedly down at Remus. He was red-cheeked, his silver eyes positively glinting. Though Remus didn't quite agree with the fashion statement, Sirius' hair had become long enough to pull back in a weak ponytail. He had it up now, golden earmuffs covering both his ears.

"You're a ninny," Remus repeated, grinning broadly underneath his scarf.

"I can barely understand you, Moony," Sirius grumbled, sounding slightly irritated. "Wait," his eyebrows rose, his hand half raising as if to touch Remus' chin before he retracted it. Remus froze. "Where'd you get that scarf, anyway? I thought you only had that old grey one. I've even offered to buy you one."

Remus scolded himself as the thought of Sirius being jealous flittered through his mind. "It's from James' mum," he responded, enunciating and speaking slightly louder. "She's really sweet. Knit it herself and everything."

"Yes, and she hung the stars and the moon, too, I bet. Just take the damned thing off for two seconds. It's not that cold, anyway."

Before Remus could respond, Sirius had grabbed along the top of his scarf, pulling it down from beneath his nose. His fingers brushed gently against Remus' mouth, and he was ashamed to feel a hot blush spread across his face as his mouth opened in a small gasp. It was akin to being shocked, minutely and quickly, but he started just the same.

Sirius, seeming to know immediately the thoughts running through Remus' mind, stopped. His fingers were gently pressed against his lower lip, and their eyes were locked; try as he might, Remus couldn't find it in him to look away. Slowly, Sirius' fingers moved below Remus' chin, and those grey eyes were tinged with apprehension and fear. Remus closed his eyes quickly, and pressed up with his toes as Sirius tipped his chin up.

Remus' hands, lacking a place to stay, came up and curled around Sirius' earmuffs, acting as leverage as their mouths came together in a chaste kiss. As it ended, Sirius leaned his forehead down against Remus', both of their eyes opening slowly, Remus letting his hands drop back to his sides.

"This seems to be… ah... It's kind-of becoming a thing," Sirius started softly after a prolonged silence. "Us kissing, I mean."

Remus blushed and looked down at he and Sirius' feet. Sirius' eyes were simply too intense at this close of a range. He bit his lip.

"Well, I … I don't really mind. If you don't." His voice was weaker than he'd anticipated, and he mentally kicked himself in the shin for suddenly becoming such a ponce. It seemed Sirius had that effect on him. "Us kissing, I mean."

Sirius was very, very quiet. The silence was tense and loaded, so much so that Remus dared to glance back up and meet his gaze.

"Yeah?" Sirius half-whispered, sounding wary to believe what Remus said was true. There was a tiny smile beginning to tug at his mouth, causing his eyes to crinkle ever so slightly.

"Yeah," Remus repeated, feeling suddenly emboldened enough to smile playfully and swing his shoulder gently into Sirius'. He was downright giddy, for Merlin's sake.

"Oh, yeah?" Sirius challenged, beginning to lean down. Remus shut his eyes again, expectantly waiting.

The bell for lunch and the end of class broke through the pristine silence, startling Remus into taking a quick step backwards. Sirius immediately straightened. Feeling somewhat worse for it, Remus turned and gazed back towards the school, suddenly realizing how exposed they had been.

"Ah," Sirius cleared his throat, extending an arm to Remus. "Shall we join James and Peter for lunch?"

Lunch was quick. James whinged about Lily, while Peter sprouted some ramblings half about Herbology and half about, Remus thought, some girl.

"Time for the Dark Arts my friends," James announced once everyone had finished. Looking around him quickly and squirrelishly, James' face suddenly lit up. He threw a quick, "Ta mates!" over his shoulder before he disappeared.

"Lily," Peter muttered, as if any of the Marauders had never met James before.

The three remaining boys trotted up the stairs to class, Peter for once leading the pack. Remus hung back next to Sirius, smiling to himself and peeking glances at Sirius' profile like some love struck first-year girl. He felt strange, fluttering sensations in his belly as he remembered their kiss, as well as phantom hot and cold across his skin. They were not more than ten yards from class when Sirius caught him looking.

In a whirlwind of motion, Remus found himself inside some small, cramped, dark space. He could barely see his hand in front of his own face as Sirius closes the door.

"Sirius?" Remus hissed, keeping his voice low. "Are were in a cupboard?"

"Remus," Sirius interrupted, as if Remus had never spoken. "Did we decide that I can kiss you now? Whenever I want?" Remus, squinting in the dark, thought he saw Sirius lick his lips. His stomach dropped. "Because… uh… I want."

"But, Sirius, we have to go to class," Remus insisted weakly, feeling Sirius growing closer. "And I'm the bloody Prefect, for- for heaven's sake!"

"Oh, bugger class." Sirius snapped, and pressed his mouth to Remus'.

When he and Sirius stumbled in to class twenty minutes late, Remus swore on his duties as a Prefect that the reason they were late was that the haggis at lunch had disagreed with them terribly. Remus had never lied to a teacher, ever, except about his lycanthropy.

But as he caught Sirius' gaze, heated and intense, halfway through class, Remus deemed it a worthy fudge of the truth.