It all started when Sirius stole his chair.

Remus was typically the easygoing sort, even in spite of the wolf, but if there was one thing he tended to get possessive over (not counting his chocolate, of course) it was his chair. Sixth chair from the head of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, across from James and Peter and right next to Sirius. It seemed like such a silly thing – it was just a chair - and he was frequently teased by his mates for his attachment to it. But he had never dared to reveal his real reason for staking such a fierce claim to the thing.

Remus fit in with these four boys more than he had ever fit in with anyone before in his life, but there were still moments when he felt just the tiniest bit estranged. Sirius would shoot insults back and forth with James, taunt James, be taunted by James, get into mock fistfights with James, laugh with James. (Oh God, that laugh.) Peter would follow after them, positively enthralled in whatever it was that they happened to be doing. Remus would sit with a book in one hand and chocolate in the other, and pretend not to notice. Pretend he didn’t wish he had a bond like that with Sirius. Pretend he wasn’t jealous, pretend he didn’t hate himself for it.

But at dinner, James was always too busy for Sirius, too busy even to notice Sirius laughing at his antics. (His antics being, of course, constantly craning his neck every which way in a pathetically desperate attempt at catching a glimpse of Lily Evans.) At dinner, it was just Sirius and Remus, snickering at James and pitying Evans, discussing some bit of literature (contrary to what seemed to be popular belief, Sirius actually could read), conjuring up plans for the next full moon in hushed whispers, simply sitting and enjoying each other’s company.

Sometimes, Remus thought he liked the just sitting best. Silence was golden, he’d heard, and he supposed it was true – sitting close enough to breathe in the air Sirius breathed out, to feel his robes tease his arm – if he closed his eyes it was all gold sparks tinged with red.

Sirius was so alive.

And he reminded Remus that he should feel the same way himself.

When he wasn’t near Sirius, he started to forget that, just a little.

It wasn’t the bloody chair he was so possessive of. It was only Sirius, and his time with the other boy. But as he couldn’t very well admit this, he went along with the assumption that he merely had a very odd attachment to his chair.

And this proved to be a problem when Sirius stole it, that haughty slant of his lips and fire in his eyes all silently proclaiming I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. Undoubtedly, he just wanted a rise out of Remus, and if he didn’t get one, that would be the real trouble. (What could he say, “Well, Padfoot, it’s really okay if you steal the chair because you’re the only thing I care about in the first place”? Remus didn’t think so.)

So Remus caught his lower lip between his teeth, crossed his arms over his chest, and did his utmost to look affronted.

He only had to hold the expression for four seconds before Sirius burst into that loud, barking laugh of his, that laugh. And Remus suddenly did feel affronted, because Sirius was still taking up his chair, and with the way his knees had just gone weak he really did need to sit down.

“Moony, mate,” Sirius got out through his laughter, “you’re just a bit anal sometimes, y’know that?”

Remus simply lifted a brow and said nothing, somehow making Sirius laugh harder.

“Least you’re not denying it. If you love the chair so much, then just come here.”

Without farther warning, Sirius’s hand shot out to catch Remus by the wrist and then retracted, pulling him forward.

Onto his lap.

Remus felt his eyes go wide and his cheeks start to burn, but Sirius had a firm grip on him, and he sensed that it would take a full-on tumble with the other boy to make him let go. And even more strongly, he sensed that such a tumble would make him lose all control. Swiftly assessing his options, Remus selected the only one still open to him.

Drawing in a shaky breath, Remus forced his body to relax (except for the trembling in his hands, but nothing he did would stop that, not this close to Sirius) and allowed Sirius to hold him.

“Happy now that you’ve made a show, Sirius?”

“Happy enough, I suppose,” Sirius drawled, still holding onto Remus as though he thought the boy would bolt at the first possible moment – Sirius did know him all too well. “Happy now that you’re back on your chair?”

“I’m on a smartarse Padfoot,” Remus shot back. “But if it’s the closest he’s going to allow me to get to my chair, then yes, it will do.”

The two of them had attracted so much attention that at this point, James had even forgotten to stare at Lily. But luckily, James made a fairly decent diversion – he begun laughing even harder than Sirius had, and it was only moments before people were staring at him instead.

Remus couldn’t deny that he was grateful. But he would have been a good bit more so if Sirius had just go of him.

But Sirius didn’t seem to have any plans whatsoever of doing such a thing.

In fact, keeping one arm looped tight on Remus’s waist, Sirius just reached around him and began to eat, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to have dinner with a werewolf on his lap.

“Um. Sirius.”

Sirius answered through mashed potatoes. “Wha’?”

“Are you going to let me up?” Remus angled his head to fix Sirius with a halfhearted glare, and therefore caught the other’s disturbing wicked grin.

“Soon enough, Remus. In a sense anyway.”

Remus didn’t dare ask what that meant, and just quietly set about eating his own dinner with an air of dignified martyrdom.

But all attempts at dignity were shattered several minutes later when, in one eerily smooth movement, Sirius had his hand under Remus’s robes and his pants undone.

Remus’s eyes suddenly resembled his dinner plate.

And he promptly choked when that hand touched him. He opened his mouth – to do what, exactly, he didn’t know – but Sirius stopped him with a quick whisper in his ear. “Shh, Remus. It’s okay. Besides, d’you really want to cause a scene and have everyone know what’s going on?”

His words had the desired effect, because Remus did indeed fall silent, the threat of everyone discovering Sirius’s antics seeping into his shocked brain. But when Sirius’s hand encircled him and began drawing itself lazily up and down, he probably wouldn’t have been able to talk anyway.

And for a while, he was so terrified that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to properly respond. But it Sirius and his hands were lovely and one of them was on him - soon enough, the fact that they were at the dinner table was nearly forgotten.

Sirius’s grin was positively cheshire.

“There we go,” he hissed, almost inaudibly, and when his hand increased its speed, Remus gave an answering hiss of his own. Sirius, his face still betraying no hint of his activities, stretched out his other hand to snag his glass of pumpkin juice from the table. Bringing it to his lips, he brushed it “casually” against Remus’s neck, the sudden sensation making him gasp. A droplet of condensation found its way onto his skin, sluicing down his neck and disappearing into his collar, with Sirius’s eyes following it hungrily the entire way.

He blinked once, forcing his gaze away, then his grin widened and he inclined his head to whisper again. “C’mon, Moony…no one else is going to hear you over all the laughing at James…I can tell you’re trying not to growl; I can feel you trembling and see you biting at your lip… Let me hear you.” His thumb swirled around Remus’s tip, slipping in and spreading the liquid already accumulating there. A second later, another clever finger pressed against his slit.

And then Sirius did hear him.

Thankfully, no one else did.

But Remus was shaking uncontrollably now, and it was obvious to Sirius just how close he was. So he glanced around to ascertain that no one was paying attention – and when he was sure they were still being ignored, he quickly bit Remus’s ear. “No one’s looking. You can come now, Remus.”

Remus’s entire body stiffened at the suggestion, but he didn’t make another move. Sirius almost laughed, knowing full well that even in a situation such as this, Remus couldn’t quite let himself abandon all conscious thought.

And that just would not do.

“Remus. It’s all right. Come for me.”

Remus didn’t know exactly what Sirius did with his hand, but suddenly he was biting down fiercely on his lip to keep from crying out, shaking violently against Sirius, and all thoughts of anything else were quite undeniably gone. (Though later, he would be quite grateful that he had learned to come silently; it would never have done for anyone to know what exactly he envisioned, and Silencing Charms never worked, what with James and Sirius himself waking him up at all hours of the night for various acts of mischief.)

Sirius waved away the mess with an inconspicuous flick of his wand, and Remus sagged back against his chest. Sirius slid his arm back around Remus’s waist and gave him a quick squeeze, then evidently decided that it was time for them to go elsewhere.

He paved the way for their escape by dropping gravy onto Remus’s shirt.

Remus didn’t have the breath to complain, so Sirius took it upon himself to exclaim loudly, “Oy, Remus, I’m sorry – you should really change your shirt now - ” He gave an artful pause, then tilted his head to the side. “Actually, since this is my fault, you can just have one of my shirts.” He discreetly refastened Remus’s pants, then urged him to his feet, getting to his after. “C’mon.”

James didn’t even notice when they left.

Not noticing James and his lack of interest either, Remus numbly began the walk back to their dormitory, still unable to speak. But Sirius swiftly caught him by the arm, shaking his head. “No. There’s a lavatory that’s closer. And more deserted. We’re going there.”

Under normal circumstances, Remus would have been alarmed. This was no normal circumstance. So he simply allowed himself to be led, and no words came until after Sirius dragged him into the lavatory, shut the door, and wasted no time in giving him the most thorough kiss Remus had ever experienced.

“Sirius, what in the hell is this about?”

Sirius merely smiled, moving to lean back against the wall, giving him a bit of room to breathe. “You.”

“Me. That’s not bloody explaining anything. And I think I at least deserve an explanation, after you – you – at the bloody dinner table - ”

“Made you come in my lap,” Sirius clarified calmly, and Remus was almost possessed by a sudden urge to slap him.

“How can you be so nonchalant about all this?”

Sirius raised his eyebrows and gave another maddening smile. “Because it should have happened a damned long time ago.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve fancied you since second year, you prat. And I know you fancy me. I think I’m correct in saying that it’s about time.”

Remus didn’t even bother trying to deny the bit about him fancying Sirius - he supposed that would be futile as well as stupid. But he wasn’t about to let that entire statement go unchallenged. “You like girls, Sirius.”

Sirius burst out laughing. “You’d be surprised, Moony. I like you just fine, and last time I checked, you certainly weren’t a girl.”

“James might try arguing that point,” Remus muttered, sinking wearily down to the floor, drawing his knees to his chest and burying his face in his hands. “And you can stop this now, you know. I do fancy you – I admit it – so you’ve won or whatever. The joke’s over. You can stop playing with me now.”

“Playing with you?” Sirius sputtered. “Dear God, Remus, how could think that I was…” His voice trailed off, and his hand suddenly shot out to grab Remus’s collar and pull his head up to meet his eyes. “I fucking love you, moron!”

Remus forgot to breathe.

“Why couldn’t you have just told me?” he asked weakly, unable to think of a single other thing to say.

“Because I didn’t think you’d believe me. I thought you’d act like…well, like you just did,” Sirius murmured. “I thought if I showed you, you wouldn’t be able to doubt. Sorry I was wrong.”

“I love you too, Sirius.”

“Okay, okay, I get it – I made a mess of things and I said I’m sorry - ” His gray eyes suddenly widened. “What’d you just say?”

This time it was Remus’s turn to laugh. “You heard me.”

“I don’t care. Say it again.”

“For some godforsaken reason, Sirius Black, I’m quite in love with you. Now would you shut up and put that pretty mouth of yours to better use?”

Those gray eyes started to glow. “Can I?”

“…Sirius, what the hell did you think I meant by that?”

Sirius coughed, and Remus covered his flush with a look of mock-disdain. “You certainly didn’t bother asking for permission before.”

“But this is different. Now I’m not just trying to prove a point.”

“What’re you trying to do, then?” His hand moved almost of its own accord to enclose Sirius’s, fingers entwining.

“Make up for lost time.”

Remus found that he couldn’t really argue with that basic principle, though a few of the smaller details were still giving him doubts. “In a bathroom?”

“I don’t care. You’re here, finally, and to me, that’s the only thing that matters.” His smile was uncharacteristically shy. “Can I at least hold you, then, Moony?”

“That,” Remus whispered, “you never need permission for.” There was an awkward rustle and tangle of limbs, but the end result was more than worth it – Sirius sitting with his back against the wall, Remus tucked between his legs and nestled back against his chest, curled up in Sirius’s arms. He let his head fall lightly backwards onto Sirius’s shoulder, breathing softly.

“You were right, Padfoot.”

“Of course I was. …about what?”

Remus chuckled, the sound vibrating pleasantly through Sirius. “It’s a good thing I love you, you prat. I meant that you were right about it being about damned time.”

“Mmm.” Sirius inclined his head to kiss Remus on the nose. “This is long overdue, yes. Actually, in fact – turn around here, I want to give you a proper kiss. Meaning you actually kiss me back this time.” He grinned teasingly, and Remus rolled his eyes, fighting back a grin of his own.

“I’d’ve kissed you back the first time if you’d not startled the living daylights out of me…” Nonetheless, despite his protests, he still shifted positions so that, while he was still sitting between Sirius’s legs, he was now facing him. His arms crept tentatively around Sirius’s neck, but Sirius wasn’t at all tentative in locking his arms around his waist and crushing them together, heartbeat to heartbeat.

Their noses brushed, and after a hesitant moment in which nothing was felt but the other’s breath toying lightly across their lips, those lips finally brushed as well.

And the kiss fell slowly into something deeper, stronger –

Air was rather forgotten.

But Sirius had brilliant fingers (as Remus already knew) that were tangling in his hair and scampering all down his back; and Remus was holding onto him with an unexpected strength that set Sirius’s heart racing.

And when Remus finally did pull away, Sirius voiced a soft whine from deep in his throat that sounded entirely too reminiscent of Padfoot. He wrinkled his nose at the noise, while Remus just smiled.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“Then bloody get back here - ”

“Just a minute, Padfoot, just a minute…” His fingers fumbled at the collar of Sirius’s robes for just a moment, but, evidently impatient, Sirius ripped them over his head.

“Better?” Without waiting for an answer, Sirius began unbuttoning his shirt, but Remus stopped him with a shake of his head, taking his hand in his and moving it gently away.

“Let me, Sirius.” And Sirius did, watching through half-lidded eyes as Remus slowly worked his way down the trail of buttons, then pushed the shirt off of his shoulders. Remus didn’t even wait to get it properly off of him before resuming their kiss with something nearing ferocity.

And then his hands snuck up in between them, running their way leisurely all across his chest.

Sirius suddenly loved that wall at his back, because without it he would have sagged completely backwards.

And it wasn’t long before he did sag, as far back as the wall would allow – Remus’s wandering fingers had found their way to a hardened nub and scratched oh-so-lightly over it.

Sirius whimpered helplessly into his mouth.

In response, Remus pulled away again, coaxing another, far more discontent, whimper. But before he could voice a proper complaint, Remus pressed two fingers softly to his lips to shush him, replacing his other hand with his mouth, tongue swirling about the raised bud before taking it gently in his teeth.

Partly to keep himself from moaning any louder than he already was, and partly in a vague form of retaliation, Sirius drew the tips of Remus’s fingers, still hovering at his lips, into his mouth and suckled them lightly.

As it turned out, that didn’t serve either of his purposes, as it only encouraged Remus’s other hand to drop down and stroke purposefully over his stomach.

Sirius jerked away before that hand even had a chance to consider going any lower. “Don’t,” he rasped. “I’m not going to last if you…well.”

Remus shifted positions, nose wrinkling in confusion, while Sirius just shook his head. “I’d rather just watch you right now.” Remus’s nose wrinkled even more, and Sirius realised that he should probably clarify.

“You’re bloody beautiful when you come, Remus.”

Remus blushed, and Sirius leaned forward to kiss him softly. “Well, you are,” he insisted. “You’re so quiet, but my God, the look in your eyes…” He gave a wry chuckle. “I was damned close myself just watching you.”

“So,” Remus whispered, still flushed, “what exactly are you suggesting?”

Sirius skimmed his hand along the front of Remus’s pants, smiling to himself as he noted that Remus was nowhere near unaffected by all of this. “What I thought you may have been suggesting earlier. Putting that ‘pretty mouth’ of mine to better use.”

“No.” For a split second, Sirius’s face fell, and then he realised Remus was continuing. “Not here. I don’t think I’d be able to stand properly with you doing that, and this floor isn’t exactly lending itself to that sort of thing.”

“No,” Sirius agreed (fighting back a smile at the words I don’t think I’d be able to stand properly with you doing that), “it’s certainly not as comfortable as I’d like. So…” His eyes cast about the room for a few moments. “Ahah. C’mon, Moony.” Grabbing Remus’s hand, he got to his feet, taking Remus along with him.

Two minutes later, he had Remus boosted up and sitting perched on a wide windowsill that was at the perfect level for Sirius to reach him.

“Sirius, I don’t know about this - ”

“It’ll work, trust me. If we could make the damned table in the Great Hall work, I don’t see why this should be a problem.” And he was more than determined to make it work – after so many years of desperately fighting to not just grab Remus and snog him senseless, it was more than worth it to work through a few minor difficulties.

Remus tilted his head thoughtfully to the side, running his fingertips absentmindedly across Sirius’s cheek. “At least the window is frosted, so no one can see us from outside…but if someone walks in…”

Sirius turned his head to kiss Remus on the palm. “I told you, this place is pretty deserted – you know that, it’s on the map. And it’s certainly more private than the Great Hall.”

That couldn’t really be argued with, so Remus didn’t try. Instead, he just repositioned Sirius’s hand to rest on his thigh, smiling faintly, then shifted to make himself more comfortable in the window.

Sirius knew that Remus might still be a bit too shy to actually request something verbally, but he also knew permission when he had gotten it. (It’s just that generally, he didn’t bother to care about such things.) So, slowly – giving Remus time to change his mind, because this time it was different – he undid his pants, brushing his hand across him gently.

“Y’okay there, Moony?”

Remus was biting his lip, eyes already fallen halfway shut, but he gave a shaky nod. A few more deft movements of Sirius’s hands, and Remus had been freed from what was, in Sirius’s opinion, a bloody ridiculous excess of material.

He caught himself staring, and wanted to say something like, you’re so fucking beautiful, but thought it might be better to just show him, instead.

So he did.

And there was nothing else in the world quite like the sounds Remus made when he finally learned to let go, little gasps and far deeper moans, and one cry of Oh, fuck, Sirius that made Sirius himself whimper around him.

And it was even better to have a trembling, sweating Moony lowered down into his arms and refusing to move (or maybe it was just that Sirius wouldn’t let go; neither seemed concerned with such distinctions), whispering hoarsely into his ear – absolutely incoherent things that Sirius still understood perfectly.

Sirius wanted to let Remus fall asleep in his arms right there and then carry him up to their dorm (where he could place him in Sirius’s own bed, right next to him, where he belonged), but he had a feeling that might arouse just a bit too much suspicion.

They got enough strange looks later as it was – but at least James never did figure out why exactly the two were suddenly prone to smiling any time they happened to see a chair or a windowsill.

He spent the next few weeks looking over his shoulder, suspecting a prank that never came.