Sirius could not believe he was in this room again. It was sheer, dumb luck and a very sick twist of fate—the neck of which he was sorely tempted to wring, along with that of one interfering, self-righteous, imposing Lily Evans. Much to Sirius' utter exasperation, she had decided that Tuesday morning was the precise moment she would take a leaf out of James's book, and what a leaf she chose: She had abducted Sirius, promptly shoved, pushed, and manhandled him into this empty room, and slammed the door in his face.

"Fuck, Evans!" Sirius yelled, trying to sidestep Lily's swatting hands. "I'll tell him when the moment is right!"

"What, are you trying to be romantic now, Black?" Lily asked cheerfully, shoving Sirius toward the half-open door to an empty room across the hall. "Romance is overrated. We live in a capitalist world, Sirius. Every man for himself. Early bird gets the worm. Besides, we don't have the patience to wait for your right moment to turn the proverbial corner, but if it makes you feel better, I, Lily Evans, declare this The Right Moment for the execution of all romantic endeavors."

"I defy capitalism," Sirius protested blankly, stumbling as he grabbed onto the doorframe and dug the heels of his shoes into the floor to counter the force with which Lily was ramming his back, "The proletariats have nothing to lose but our chains."

"Go," Lily panted, "Inside. Trust me."

Sirius stared incredulously at her and she paused to stare back.

"No. Are you done acting like a freak?" Sirius asked, still staring disbelievingly at her.

Lily put her hands on her hips, face darkening. "I'm not a freak." Then, suddenly, her expression brightened. "But if you don't tell Remus before either of you walks out of that room, I will, capisce?"

Sirius's jaw dropped. "You wouldn't."

"Yes," Lily said, taking advantage of his shock and pushing him inside, causing him to stumble backward and fall on the floor. "I think I would. Seeing you in pain is what I live for."

She shot him a joyful grin before slamming the door in his face.

There was silence in the wake of her departure. Sirius groaned. Sprawled on the cold floor of an empty classroom with a throbbing tailbone and an impending migraine, he clung to the small comfort that at least the situation couldn't get any worse.

"What was that all about?" A voice asked conversationally.

Or, it could.

Sirius, contrary to popular belief, was a rather self-aware individual. He knew he was an enormous flirt. He tended to act recklessly when he got caught up in the thrill of the moment. He was inconsiderate and rather rude to people as a rule. He messed up on a daily basis. He slept with his socks on. He was probably some type of gay.

Sirius Black was a lot of things. But "coward" wasn't one of them, no matter what James said. Yet, as he stared at the slight, tawny-haired boy sitting cross-legged against the wall, fiddling with an errant pine needle, he could not help the fear that had taken residence in his heart.

Remus blinked curious amber eyes at Sirius, a small smile playing across his lips. "Hallo."

Sirius closed his eyes, head swimming with thoughts as an invisible hammer rammed at his skull. "How'd you get here?"

"Same as you," Remus said, tracing his pine needle across the floor in front of him, chin resting on the hand propped up on his thigh. He watched Sirius carefully, and Sirius sighed, wondering why he was a sprawling mess on the concrete floor, all wild hair and rumpled shirt, while Remus sat cross-legged and prim with his sweater neatly tucked in like the little angel he was.

"I will kill," Sirius said, gritting his teeth, "Lily Evans."

"I'm sure she has a good reason for what she did," Remus reasoned.

"She's mental," Sirius said flatly, glaring at his knee. "She's lost her marbles. Off her rocker. Wholly and effectively driven to insanity."

Remus didn't say anything but continued twirling the needle between his pale, slender fingers.

"I'm going to kill her," Sirius repeated, still glowering at his knee.

Remus sighed. "This is getting repetitive. How about we just walk out of here and find her and ask her what this is about? I'm sure she'll tell us if we ask nicely."

Remus tossed the needle aside, clambering to his feet. Sirius was up in a flash, blocking Remus' pathway and causing him to start in surprise.

"We can't go outside," Sirius told him.

"Actually," Remus said slowly, eyeing Sirius, "I think we can. She hasn't locked the door, you know."

Remus attempted to sidestep Sirius. Sirius followed the movement and blocked him, attempting to tower over him. Remus frowned at him and tried to sidestep him again and suddenly, Sirius had him against the cold stone, hands buried in the front of Remus' sweater and knee pinned to the wall between his knees. They stared at each other, Remus in wide-eyed consternation and Sirius in slight panic, wondering how he was supposed to get himself out of this predicament and trying not to let Remus's proximity mess with his train of thought. There was a long silence.

"You can't go out there," Sirius told him simply.

Remus opened his mouth.

"No,"

"Er, Padfoot—"

"Hush," Sirius told him, "Let me think."

There was a short silence.

Remus blinked.

"Padfoot . . . erm, you have a . . . problem."

"What?"

"It's. Erm. Down there. Below. Your erm … ah …"

Remus squirmed slightly and a sudden spasm in his lower gut made Sirius very distinctly aware of his problem.

He stared at Remus, and Remus stared back, and both of them stood thus, with Remus pinned to the wall and Sirius staring disconcertingly at him.

"That's not mine," Sirius said abruptly.

Remus blinked again. "Beg your pardon?"

"That's not my problem."

Remus stared at him in bewilderment.

"It's a canary!" Sirius shouted, causing Remus to start and clutch at the wall behind him.

"A canary."

"Yes. Tiny yellow birds that fly."

"In your pants?"

"That is correct, Moony. A canary. Like the one Prongs had."

"The one you killed?"

"I didn't kill it."

"You threw it out the window."

"It's a fucking bird, it was supposed to fly."

"Why did you stuff a bird down your pants."

"I didn't. It went there all by itself," Sirius replied.

Remus blinked. Sirius reckoned that Remus blinked far more frequently than was necessary. In fact, Sirius reckoned Remus should cease fluttering his eyelashes altogether and that he should glue his eyelids shut to facilitate it, an activity that Sirius would very readily participate in so that those smoldering amber eyes would stop looking straight into Sirius' soul like that.

"What can I say, Moony," Sirius said cheerfully, trying to drown out the obnoxious voice gurgling lecherously in the back of his mind. "I am gorgeous and irresistible and all who cast their eyes upon me invariably attempt to get in my pants, and let me tell you, that phenomenon does not limit itself to land mammals. I speak here of birds, such as the canary currently nestled in the area of my groin, but also eagles and owls and all sorts of flying things. Of course, it's primarily land mammals I must keep an eye on, specifically humans but also canines, like wolves. I mean, dogs as well, but that's a given since I'm a dog so the next closest thing would be a wolf. Not to imply anything, I'm simply demonstrating the extent to which my charms can … charm."

"Of course," Remus replied in a placating tone, apparently unable to make sense of the jargon that had been spewed at him.

"Of course," Sirius parroted, "So in a way, you happen to be correct. I do have a problem. It is rather imminent. And I require your assistance to remove it."

Remus fixed Sirius with his best prefect look. It was stern and piercing and Sirius had to make sure he wasn't drooling. "I refuse, point blank, to help you remove an imaginary bird from inside of your pants."

"But it'll maim me! My bits Moony, you wouldn't want anything to happen to my bits!" Sirius cried, sounding—and feeling—quite mad.

"That's rather presumptuous of you," Remus pointed out. "And it's a canary, not a chainsaw. Nothing will happen to your precious bits." He paused thoughtfully for a minute, and then added, "I imagine."

"What's a chainsaw?' Sirius asked, suddenly curious. "And you just complimented my bits."

"It's a muggle construction device. Large, electric blade. And I did not."

"Weird. I must get one. And yes, you did. You called them 'precious.'"

"You will most definitely not go anywhere near a chainsaw. Nor will Prongs. He's only just started to learn self-preservation, and I forbid you from giving him any ideas or you have the wrath of Lily Evans to answer to."

"You're avoiding the topic."

"Actually, I think I just addressed it rather clearly. Even managed to thread in a mild threat."

"Do you really think my bits are precious, Moony?"

"I think you should get rid of your imaginary canary."

"That rhymes."

"I … yes, alright, it does."

"Imaginary canary. It has a ring to it."

"Hm."

There was silence as Sirius considered his newfound source of linguistic entertainment, and Remus passed the time pinned between a mentally engrossed Sirius and the wall by observing the room, and despite the smothering nature of their arrangement, it was a rather pleasant kind of silence.

Until Remus noticed something that made him gasp.

"Padfoot," he breathed, hands grasping Sirius' elbows tightly as his eyes remained fixed on a spot on the ceiling behind Sirius's head. "Look!"

Sirius didn't think he could peel his eyes away from Remus's face without sufficient motive, which, in due time, presented itself in the form of insatiable curiosity. His head swiveled as far over his shoulder as it could to heed the insistent tugging of his shirt and Remus's command to "look." It was worth it when he found out what he was supposed to be looking at, and he let out an exclamation of mirth.

"Merlin's balls, those are Peter's wank socks!"

The expression on Remus's face shifted from awe to distaste and his nose scrunched up in a way that gave Sirius the urge to tweak it. "Gods, that's what they are?"

"Why do you think Peter was looking for them for months?"

"I thought … he liked Pooh, I suppose …"

"You could say that," Sirius snorted in amusement. Remus groaned at the insinuation and leaned his head back onto the wall with a soft thump.

"Pooh happens to be a beacon of virtue for children the world over. He is an upstanding, rotund, lovable bear who enjoys eating honey. Please spare him the disgrace of being the brunt of your depraved sexual innuendos."

Sirius had his head buried in the crook of Remus's neck and his hands were clutching Remus's shirt as his shoulders shook with silent laughter. Remus felt a muffled vibration against his skin and he sighed. "I can't hear you, Padfoot."

Sirius lifted his head, snorting with laughing. "Peter has a bear kink."

"I do not think you could find a straighter boy in all of Hogwarts," Remus burst out laughing, and Sirius chortled with him, reveling in their shared mirth.

"I think at this point he's desperate enough to get laid that he'd screw anybody, including a pretty lad."

Remus grinned at Sirius. "Isn't that more your modus operandi?"

He knew Remus meant it as a joke, but Sirius couldn't help himself. He leaned forward, smirking. "I do tend not to be picky about getting laid, but I go for all types."

"Clearly. You have a canary in your pants."

Sirius continued smirking, but there was a sudden intensity in his eyes. "Boys, girls, gays, and theys. I go for the person and not their privates, all that jazz. Although I wouldn't say no to a particularly nice set of privates."

Remus and Sirius were staring at each other, the mirth having faded from their expressions. Sirius cocked his head as he considered the other boy. "Does that bother you?"

Sirius had not doubted James' loyalty toward his friends, and he did not doubt Remus's either. Still, he could not help the way his heartbeat quickened as he watched Remus's reaction to his casual confession.

"No," Remus said softly, moving his arm. Sirius felt the ghost of a reassuring touch against the back of one of his hands, still fisting Remus's sweater.

"Well, maybe it should," Sirius said, and, before he could reconsider the brash, impulsive decision, he turned his hand around and wrapped his fingers around the other's. "Because I have come to the realization lately that I have something of a taste for pretty lads and scrawny twinks.

Sirius felt Remus's fingers twitch against his palm, but Remus did not pull away. A thrill went down Sirius's spine as he watched Remus's cheeks redden.

Remus, to his credit, managed to keep his voice even. "Oh?"

"Yes. Particularly bookish ones, with itchy jumpers and abysmal posture."

"That's rather specific," Remus stammered.

Sirius leaned forward, a silly, lopsided grin on his face. Remus' eyes grew wide, amber orbs fixed on Sirius' stormy grey ones. "I'm sure you can help me find one, as the resident scrawny twink of the Gryffindor tower. Well, maybe that's presumptuous of me. Do you consider yourself one?"

"Difficult to say, considering I turn into a savage wolf once a month," Remus said wryly.

"And the rest of the time you're a twiggy nerd who gets tea with McGonagall every other Friday. Lycanthrophy does not a twink unmake. Also, you didn't answer the question," Sirius said, making an effort to keep his tone conversational even as he was acutely aware that their faces were close enough that their noses were almost touching.

"Which question?"

"Whether you know of such a pretty lad I can thoroughly ravage against an empty classroom wall."

Remus wasn't blinking now, and this bolstered Sirius's spirits greatly, having taken it as a personal victory after all that previous eye-batting. It was a ridiculous conversation, but at this point the roles could be reversed, and Remus could be reciting Hogwarts, A History from memory and Sirius's heart would still be racing three hundred kilometers an hour.

"Erm," Remus cleared his throat, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed deliberately. Sirius watched its progress. "I don't know about pretty lads, but I am the resident scrawny twink of the Gryffindor tower and I do happen to be appropriately situated against a wall."

"Yes, that's the same conclusion I came to," Sirius continued, eyes glinting devilishly. This, Sirius knew how to do. He dropped Remus's hand gently, skimmed his fingertips against the boy's palm, up his arm to his shoulder, and then down his chest, all the way down to his bony hip near the waistband of his pants. There, Sirius paused, then swiped his thumb across the small patch of skin where Remus's sweater had come untucked. Remus exhaled sharply like he had been holding his breath. "I suppose I don't have much of a choice then, do I? Much like Peter, I am beholden to my circumstances. Desperate times and all."

"Padfoot," Remus said, his voice seemingly calm and quiet, but Sirius immediately noted the slight waver in it and this, coupled with the fact that Remus hadn't yet hexed his balls to join Peter's socks, encouraged Sirius to allow himself a tiny ray of hope. "You do realize as far as seduction goes that talking about Peter right now is decidedly not sexy?"

Sirius's heart was thumping wildly. The voice of logic, admittedly the minority of his brain functions, had suddenly taken over as all other stations were abandoned, his ability to respond to stimulus having jumped off a cliff in panic. That voice of logic was doggedly rejecting any suggestion that perhaps, impossibly, Remus was responding positively to Sirius' advances.

Yet, Remus had not pulled away, and they were still nose-to-nose, and Remus's fringe was brushing against Sirius' forehead, and Sirius's hands were still on Remus, and Remus had come to rest his against Sirius's chest. Later, Sirius concluded that it was this bombardment of stimuli that finally triggered the voice of impulse, which, in a desperate attempt to save Sirius' brain from spontaneous combustion, had screamed, "Fuck it!" and grabbed the controls of Sirius' physical movements. And in that moment of utter lunacy and reckless abandon, he did what he had sworn he would never, ever attempt to do.

"Let me fix that," Sirius said bluntly, and promptly closed the last inch between him and Remus.

His brain exploded from sensory overload and his nerves were completely fried by the sudden hitch in voltage from his catapulting heart, but he couldn't care less, because he was snogging Remus, and Remus was snogging Sirius back just as fervently. Sirius hesitantly touched the tip of his tongue against Remus's mouth and Remus immediately parted his lips further with a small, breathy moan, and oh, there was tongue involved now, and Sirius couldn't help but press further into Remus. He felt Remus's hand fisting his hair at the back of his head, and they had just finished talking about Peter's wanking habits and canaries in pants, and amid all the mind-blowing snogging, Sirius suddenly had to break off the kiss because he was simply laughing too hard at the sheer insanity of it all.

He was still clutching Remus' sweater and Remus was laughing helplessly in exhilaration, and Sirius couldn't recall the last time he felt this euphoric.

"Why are you laughing? Am I that bad a kisser?" Remus hiccupped, clutching at Sirius' arms to support himself.

"No, no, it's just," Sirius snorted in mirth, inhaling a nose-full of Remus' hair, "It's just, I hadn't planned for it to happen this way . . . I hadn't planned it at all, but I dunno, it's . . . fucking brilliant, you know?"

The sides of Remus' eyes were crinkled in a happy way and his mouth was twisted in a lopsided grin. "Yes, it is."

Sirius grinned back, cocking his head. "So, you're, er, okay with this then?"

"Very."

"Really?"

"Yes. Would you prefer I not be?"

"No, I'm just surprised that you're not . . . surprised . . ."

"I can act surprised if you like."

"Oh well, it's nice of you to offer."

"Perhaps it wasn't the best way for Lily to go about it," Remus mumbled, playing with the collar of Sirius' shirt, "But I can't really find it in me to be that mad about it, all things considered. Can you?"

"No," Sirius said, smiling at the earnest, slightly unsure expression on Remus' face. He cocked his head again, eyebrows furrowed, "Are you really okay with this though? Because, you know, it's alright if you're not. I mean, it would be a bummer, but I'll live, if you don't want to—"

Remus raised an eyebrow as Sirius spoke, eyes sparkling in amusement as he allowed himself a small smile. He interrupted Sirius by tugging on his lapels impatiently to pull him closer.

The thorough snogging Sirius consequently received was all the confirmation he needed.

"They're doing it," Lily said, breathlessly.

Peter and James looked up from their game of exploding snap, Peter frozen midway with his hand hovering above a stack of cards and James' fringe smoking slightly. They stared at Lily, who had burst unexpectedly into the boys' dormitory and was now looking like Christmas had come early.

James wrinkled his nose. "Urgh Lily, why would you walk into something like that?"

"I don't mean it like that," Lily said impatiently, her excitement bringing her to the balls of her feet, "I mean that they're snogging. Each other. Rather enthusiastically."

Not liking the slightly hazy, lustful look in Lily's eyes, James demanded, "But how?"

"I locked them in the room together," Lily told him, eyes shining with pride.

James gazed at her in adoration. "You're absolutely wicked, darling."

"Why thank you, James," Lily shot him a fond look. She laughed happily, tackling him in a hug that knocked his glasses off, making him laugh as well.

"It's about time," he grinned down at his girlfriend. "They've been making eyes at each other for ages."

"I know," Lily beamed. "We should have a celebration. Does Sirius still hate me? I'll go ask him."

Lily flew out of the dormitory without another word, leaving Peter in utter bewilderment, staring at a rather upbeat James who was humming to himself as he reshuffled the cards.

"What happened?" Peter demanded.

"Things that should have happened a long time ago," James told him, bobbing his head to an invisible beat.

"Everyone's been acting so weird," Peter said in flat consternation, "The whole world has gone mental."

James regarded Peter. He thought about the past week or two, about the sheer absurdity of the things that had happened, the series of bizarre conversations he'd had, and the lengths he had gone to precipitate the final, unexpected, wonderful culmination of it all. He smiled.

"Peter my boy," James said cheerfully, clasping his shoulder in a firm grip. "I have no idea what you're talking about."