Those first weeks of sexual discovery were among the happiest of Sirius's life. They did not do it every night. On some nights, one or both of them would be too tired for more than a few sleepy kisses, and on others, it was enough just to fall asleep talking and holding Remus's hand across the gap between their beds. But more often than not, they found a few moments, day or night, to indulge in physical intimacy.
At first, Sirius did his best to control his enthusiasm and remain as quiet and still as possible, fearing that an inadvertent word or touch might trigger a memory for Remus. However, he quickly made two important discoveries. The first was that Remus loved it when he gasped and moaned and begged. "I want to hear you," he growled during one passionate stolen moment which Sirius was unlikely to forget anytime soon. The second was that Sirius loved the submissive role. Nothing had ever turned him on the way that giving up all control to Remus did. He did nothing without Remus's willing it, sometimes enduring long moments of slow, exquisite torment at the other boy's hands, resulting in climaxes more intense than Sirius had ever thought possible.
It did not take them long to discovered the delights of hand cream, already familiar for wanking purposes. When Remus wrapped a slippery hand around his cock for the first time, Sirius bit his own hand to keep from crying out and waking the others. He could still see the teeth marks two days later.
It took longer for Remus to be comfortable letting Sirius return his touch, but that changed one afternoon when they had the dormitory to themselves. Remus had just finished giving Sirius a handjob, which Sirius thought might qualify as a religious experience, but had yet to do anything about the situation in his own trousers. When Remus's hands moved to his fly, Sirius quickly rallied himself.
"Let me try? Please?" he asked, not necessarily expecting a reply in the affirmative.
Hesitantly, Remus nodded.
Sirius took Remus's hands in his own, kissing him. "You can tell me to stop anytime, if you're not comfortable."
"I know," said Remus. "I trust you."
Nervous excitement coursed through Sirius. Remus's trust was a rare and precious gift - one Sirius would break himself into pieces rather than betray. He needed to do this right. Keeping his movements slow and deliberate, Sirius kissed Remus again, touching his hands and arms and shoulders and back and all the places Remus had felt safe letting him touch before. He took his time, never crowding him, always letting Remus feel that he had an escape.
"What should I do now?" he murmured, when Remus's body began to relax.
"Um, you could take my pants off," suggested Remus, with only a slight tremor in his voice.
Sirius smiled, kissing him again. "I like that idea."
Remus raised his hips, shivering, as Sirius tugged down his trousers and pants. Sirius rested a hand on Remus's hipbone, experimentally running a thumb over the bony ridge, but did not take his eyes off Remus's face.
"Show me how to touch you?"
Remus bit his lip, and Sirius held his breath as the other boy hesitantly took his hand, guiding it between his legs. He was only half hard. His skin was velvety-soft and warm to the touch, and when Sirius ran his fingers lightly up the shaft and over the head, Remus's eyes fluttered closed, his hand relaxing around Sirius's.
It was only then that Sirius allowed himself to look at Remus's cock. It was nice to look at, and nicer still when it swelled to his touch. The head was smooth and well-proportioned, exactly the same shade of pink Remus's ears sometimes turned when Sirius whispered something filthy to him during lessons. The shaft was long and straight, angling up over his belly. His sac was tight and nearly hairless, balls cradled close to his body. Sirius bent his head closer, watching in fascination as his hand closed around the base of the shaft, sliding the foreskin slowly up and down before caressing the head with his thumb. He grinned as Remus made an inarticulate sound, hips jutting up against Sirius's palm. A bead of pre-come appeared at the tip as Sirius stroked him again. Sirius wondered what it tasted like.
"Remus?"
"Hmmm?"
"Can I suck you off?"
Remus's eyes flew open, and he half sat up, his hand tightening around Sirius's. "What?" he gasped.
"If you don't want me to, that's all right," said Sirius hastily. "It was only an idea."
Remus stared at him in horrified fascination. "You - want to do that?"
"I - yeah, I guess so," said Sirius, disconcerted. "I mean, I've thought about it, and it seems like it would feel good. Lots of people do it. If you don't like it, though, that's OK."
"No, I - I mean, if you want to -" stammered Remus. Slowly, he lay back, but he continued to eye Sirius warily.
"You're sure?" Sirius asked. "You can tell me to stop if it's not good."
Remus nodded, lips pressed together.
Permission granted, Sirius wrapped his fingers around the base of the shaft once more, and bent his head. He put his tongue out and delicately licked Remus's slit. The taste was a little bitter and a little salty, but nothing he could not handle. Remus gasped, but did not tell him to stop or try to push him away. Emboldened, Sirius curled his tongue around the flared head. The smooth texture was fascinating, the musky scent distinctly Remus. When his lips slid down to engulf the head and administer the first tentative suck, Remus made a choked sound, and his hips jerked. Sirius firmed his grip, drawing him in deeper, swirling his tongue over the ridge that ran along the underside of Remus's prick and sucking harder.
"Sirius! Oh, god! Stop!"
Sirius drew back immediately, loosening his grip. "What's the matter?"
Remus's cheeks were flushed, lips bitten red, eyes pleading. "If you keep doing that, I - I'll come."
"I know," said Sirius. "Isn't that the point?"
"But -" Remus looked endearingly flustered. "You don't want -"
Sirius grinned at his discomfiture. "It's OK if you come in my mouth, Remus. I don't mind."
"Oh." Remus stared at him. "I - really? You want that?"
In answer, Sirius bowed his head, sucking Remus deeply into his mouth, and began bobbing his head in a brutal rhythm that could have only one outcome.
The only coherent sound Remus managed was a shaky "Sirius!" as he climaxed, his body convulsing violently. Hot bitter fluid flooded Sirius's mouth. He swallowed, making a face at the taste, and snuggled up beside a spent and gasping Remus.
"What in god's name possessed you to do a thing like that?" Remus moaned, covering his eyes.
"Didn't you like it?" asked Sirius, disappointed.
"I - yes, but -"
Sirius grinned, relieved. "That's a good enough reason for me. I like making you feel good. And I love watching you come."
He tilted his chin up to kiss Remus, but the other boy recoiled. "I - sorry. I can't. The taste -"
"Oh." Sirius bit his lip and settled himself against Remus's shoulder, pushing down the sick angry feeling that welled up inside him when he was reminded of Remus's past. "Should I not have done it, then?"
"No, it was good," Remus assured him. "Really good. But - I can't do it for you. I'm sorry. I wish I could show you how it felt."
"Don't be sorry." Sirius kissed the corner of Remus's jaw. "You do all kinds of brilliant things for me - or more to the point, to me. Do I look unsatisfied?"
Remus smiled reluctantly. "I suppose not. But I might need a quick refresher in what 'satisfied' looks like. Pass me the lotion?"
After that, Sirius made a habit of cleaning his teeth a little more often than usual, and Remus gradually became more comfortable giving up a little of his control. But still Sirius felt as though Remus was holding back, and it worried him. What if Remus decided they were going too fast, or thought Sirius was being pushy? What if he changed his mind and wanted to write the whole thing off as a bad idea? The thought made Sirius feel hollow and panicky, so he pushed it away and gave himself over to the sheer joy of being with Remus, trying to keep his expectations minimal, and letting Remus make the first move.
Watching Remus covertly in History one day not long before the Christmas holidays, admiring the soft fringe of golden-brown hair that hid Remus's eyes as he took notes, and remembering the tickle of that same hair on his throat less than an hour before, Sirius idly wondered if he was still a virgin. How did one count such things if one was a boy who did things with boys? He knew how things were usually measured in heterosexual relationships, and he had heard of gay men performing similar acts, but it felt to Sirius as if the things he and Remus did together ought to count. He wondered whether Remus still considered himself a virgin, but he could not ask; Remus's past complicated the question too much.
Perhaps because their clothing largely remained in place during their encounters, or perhaps because they never had the luxury of falling asleep in one another's arms, the things they did together still felt more like fooling around than anything else, to Sirius. He began to realise that the concept of virginity was ridiculous, impossible to measure, and that if it truly existed at all, he would decide for himself when the moment had passed.
The holidays arrived, and James and Peter went home to their families. Sirius was in the habit of spending as little time with his own parents as possible, and while he had an open invitation to stay with the Potters whenever he liked, he thought it unlikely that he could hide the agony of being without Remus from them for two whole weeks.
Remus, much to Sirius's surprise, elected not to go home either. He had written to his parents with a vague excuse about needing access to the school library to catch up on his studies over the break. He and Sirius had not spoken about it nor planned it, but there was a nervous excitement in the air at the thought of having the dormitory all to themselves for a fortnight.
After seeing their roommates off at the school gates, Sirius and Remus walked back up to St Godric's, grinning sidelong at one another. The excess of freedom suddenly felt terrifying, and neither of them knew how to begin taking advantage of it. They spent most of the day lingering in public spaces - the library, the dining hall, the common area of the dormitory - engaged in innocent conversation about friends and school and family, Sirius delighting in making Remus laugh with tales of school Christmases past with James and Peter.
But as they left the dining hall after supper that evening, hands brushing together under the cover of darkness as they walked, a tense silence fell between them. Sirius drew out his nighttime ritual of cleaning his teeth and changing into his pyjamas for as long as he could, berating himself for his sudden inexplicable skittishness. Remus, reclining on his bed, striped pyjama trousers exposing skinny ankles, saw the fear in his face.
"Come here," he said softly.
When Sirius approached, heart hammering against his ribs, Remus took his hand and drew him down onto the narrow bed beside him, spooning him against his chest, an arm wrapped protectively around him.
"We don't have to do anything tonight." Remus's breath was warm on his neck. "Let's just sleep."
The tension that had tied Sirius in knots all day went out of him. He closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing in the circle of Remus's arms.
"That sounds nice," he said as Remus pulled the blankets over them.
Soft lips pressed a kiss just below his ear. "Good night, Sirius."
Sirius found Remus's hand and laced their fingers together, bringing them to his mouth. "G'night, Remus," he whispered.
He soon fell asleep, soothed by the gentle rise and fall of Remus's chest, fingers still linked, a smile of contentment playing on his lips.
Sirius woke the next morning with Remus's arm slung across his chest, his face pressed against Sirius's neck. He stared at the ceiling, contemplating one of the best nights' sleep he had ever experienced, and how good it felt to wake up next to Remus. When the form beside him stirred, Sirius turned to watch Remus's eyes flutter open, and felt a sharp tug inside his chest.
I'm done for, he realised in the face of tousled brown hair and a shy, sleepy smile. I never want to wake up without him again.
"Morning," croaked Remus.
"Morning," echoed Sirius, trying to ignore the flutter in his belly. "Sleep all right?"
The sweet smile widened and Remus stretched his long limbs luxuriantly. Sirius felt an overwhelming desire to kiss the boy whose bare feet were tangled with his own, and did so. Remus's arms folded around him, a hand cradling the back of his neck.
After a few moments, Remus broke away, flushed. "We should probably stop, or we'll - ah - miss breakfast."
"I suppose so," sighed Sirius. He could think of half a dozen things he would rather do than go to breakfast, and all of them involved himself and Remus staying right where they were. A day spent in bed with Remus sounded rather like heaven to Sirius.
He dressed quickly, his back turned to hide the effect that their good morning kiss had had on him, making a mental note to stop by the toilets later to stock up on tissues. When he turned around again, Remus was watching him.
"There's no rush," the other boy reminded him, and he was not talking about breakfast. "We have loads of time."
A reluctant smile tugged at Sirius's lips. "I know. I just -" he broke off, shaking his head, because the words clamouring for space on his tongue frightened him. I want to be with you all the time. I don't want to ever stop touching you. I've never felt like this before. And there were other words behind those that were too scary to contemplate, like the four-letter one starting with "L", which Sirius was having more and more difficulty keeping out of his thoughts.
"C'mon," said Remus with a sweet smile that only made matters worse. He held out his hand, and Sirius took it, holding on as far as the door to their room - as far as was safe.