A Good Kind of Pink

To most people, Saint Valentine's Day was a celebration of love and romance, and a time to spend with your own special someone. For Sirius Black, it was an excruciatingly long twenty-fours hours of annoyingly cute pink things and fluffy public displays of affection between people who barely know one another.

Maybe it was another of those unfortunate results of being born into the House of Black - a family which considered love, and any outward expression of any emotion thereabouts, as terrible a notion as the inclination to slap your grandmother across the face while setting her hair on fire.

Sirius imagined the look on his dear mothers face if he were to do that very thing to his own banshee of a grandmother, and let out a satisfied little chuckle. It might even be worth it.

Remus gave him a slightly concerned sideways glance, but said nothing. Sirius had had more than his fair share of Fire-whiskey and, he suddenly realised, he may very well have been giggling periodically for the last hour.

They were alone in the dorm for the first Valentines Day in four years. In their first year, the four of them had agreed the holiday was a stupid, girly waste of time, money and effort. As such, they had snuck down to the kitchens and the house elves, ever grateful for company and compliments, had plied them with snacks.

Every year since they had repeated the endeavour, increasing their indulgences suitably. In their second year, Peter had smuggled in some Muggle cider, which ended terribly and had encouraged them to ease off in their third and go with cigarettes instead. Last year, James had managed to get hold of some Arundo Donax - more commonly known as Nax Weed. That had been an interesting night, and some incriminating photographs had been burned the morning after.

This year, Sirius had stolen four bottles worth of Fire-whiskey from his fathers study, refilling the empty decanters with a mixture of vinegar, honey and lemon juice to avoid detection until after he was safely back at school. But, alas, they had been abandoned.

Sirius slapped his hand to the floor in frustration. He couldn't rightfully remember why he was laying on the floor. Remus sat up on his bed and peered down at Sirius questioningly.

Curse that bloody werewolf and his ridiculous wolf-y metabolism.

Remus had probably had more to drink that Sirius had, but he was taking it significantly better. For one thing, he could still sit up relatively straight while Sirius couldn't even will himself off the frozen stone floor.

' I can't believe they abandoned us,' he whined, going for dramatic but slurring slightly. ' Four years and Marauder tradition, forsaken!'

' Pads,' Remus started, voice even and reasonable. ' We were eleven…'

' Twelve,' Sirius said, louder than he meant to, jabbing himself in the chest rather vigorously.

' Eleven and twelve when we started that tradition. We hadn't anticipated girls.'

Sirius thought 'bollocks', then realised he may have said it out loud. ' We're still here aren't we?'

' Yes,' Remus said, calmly. ' But you're an emotionally challenged inbreed with hyperactivity issues and I'm a control-freak were…'

' No!' Sirius shouted, suddenly finding the energy to sit up and pointing at what he hoped was roughly Remus' face. ' Don't say that. That's no reason, no excuse.'

' Of course it is,' the boy scoffed. ' What better reason not to get close to someone than that you might tear them to shreds once a month?'

That was the only giveaway of how drunk Remus actually was. He lost some of that tight control. He said what he was thinking, instead of moderating it. Sirius smiled, but he didn't really know why.

' I think you insulted me.'

' So do I. Sorry, Pads.'

' So, Peter took Dork-face?'

' Hmm.'

' She asked me last year.'

' I know. You told her to get fucked and advised her to shove her card somewhere I imagine it would be very unpleasant to have paper filed.'

Sirius snorted a laugh. ' Merlin, I love Nax.'

' Can't believe she still talks to you, personally.'

' They all love me. Can't help it. I am gorgeous.'

It was Remus' turn to snort. ' So what're you doing stuck up here with me then, instead of on a hot date in Hogsmead or snogging some tart senseless in the common room?'

' I'm not stuck with you. You know I'd rather be here, Moony. And I hate this bloody holiday.'

' Oh.'

There was a long, comfortable silence. Or there would have been, if Sirius' head would stop buzzing. He might have passed out briefly, but he couldn't be sure. At some point, he had moved onto Remus' bed, and when he opened his eye he was vaguely surprised to find his head on the fairer boys stomach.

' You're comfy.'

' You sound surprised. Should I be offended?'

' I am surprised. You're such a skinny bastard, all bones. You have no right to be this soft and comfortable.'

' Did you just call me soft?'

' Hmm. I did,' Sirius confirmed. He had been staring at Remus' toes, and decided to find the boys face. The movement took longer than it should have, and made him feel rather ill, but he managed it.

' You don't look so good. How do you feel?'

' I don't. Not right much, anyway. But thanks for worrying,' Sirius said, trying to keep Remus' nose in focus. He was always to concerned with everyone else, and it made Sirius think of something else. ' Thanks, by the way. For…at Quidditch… and, well… Y'know.'

Little frown lines appeared between Remus' eyebrows as he tried to decipher the words. Finally he caught on and muttered, ' Oh, yeah. No problem. Don't like to see you upset.'

' You worry about us too much. You should take care of yourself more.''

' I take care of myself perfectly well, thank you.'

' You know what I mean.'

' No, I don't.'

Silence fell once more. Sirius nuzzled into Remus' chest and listened to the werewolf's heartbeat. It was calm and steady and even. Remus' fingers were carding through the hair at the nape or Sirius' neck, and eventually found their way to that spot behind his ear. He closed his eyes for a minute and enjoyed the sensation, feeling his own heartbeat quicken slightly. He might have moaned, and he hoped to whatever gods were listening that he hadn't.

After a while, he lifted his head and looked down at Remus' face.

' You'll find someone, you know.'

Remus propped his head up with his arm and met Sirius' gaze with a raised eyebrow. ' What?'

' Someone who won't run away. Won't mind what you are. Like us.'

' I've already been lucky enough to find three friends who accept me. And Lily, I'm pretty sure knows. And she didn't scream, or run away or anything. Which is good, right? But the point is, I'm not going to push it.'

' It'd been such a waste. You're a catch.'

' Err… Thanks?'

Sirius realised he had leaned forward, but he didn't make to move back. Their noses were almost touching, but he couldn't look away from the wide brown eyes in front of him. His face felt very hot, and Remus' cheeks were turning pink. The air in the room was humming. Or maybe that was his head again, he couldn't be certain.

His mouth felt suddenly dry, and he swallowed hard. He could feel hot, heavy, alcohol-tinged breath against his face and his eyes dropped to the other boys mouth. Those soft, pink lips looked terribly inviting. A good pink, not a sickening fluffy pink. But they were parted slightly, like Remus was going to say something. Sirius resolved not to let him, taking a deep breath and lowering his head forward a fraction.

Of course, something had to shatter the moment.

The door flung open with a bang and, though nobody was there, James Potter's voice filled the room.

' Moony, help me!' He wailed, pulling off his invisibility cloak.

His face was covered in huge puss-filled boils, large and red-rimmed and looking thoroughly painful.

Remus jerked away, jumping off the bed. The sudden movement combined with the rancid stench of James further unsettled Sirius' already tetchy stomach, and he leaned over the edge of the bed and retched.

When he had recovered enough to lift his head, he looked across the room. Remus was removing the sores one by one, and James was making as much fuss as possible. Sirius felt strangely annoyed at his best friend for bursting in.

' No,' he mumbled to himself, dropping his aching head back to the mattress. ' It's for the best.'

Then he lost consciousness, not at all convinced.

Curse you, James Potter, and your awful timing!

Yes, short chapter for you this time, but the nest will be longer and will hopefully be up later today or early tomorrow. This one was really hard for me to write, having never been even slightly tipsy. Yes, I know, I am terrible.

Anyway, thanks for reading. Reviews make me smile, let me know how I'm doing. Danke shern!