About a Kiss

About a Kiss

How did you tell one of your best friends you wanted to kiss him?

Sirius Black pondered this one morning in Charms, as he swished and flicked and sent James to sleep with his Sedation Charm. He thought long and logically, and decided that perhaps you just told him straight off, 'Remus, I want to kiss you.'

In Transfiguration, he and Peter turned pieces of chocolate into slugs. As Sirius waved his wand over the slimy molluscs, he decided that it might be best just to sneak up on Remus, clamp his mouth over Remus's and hope that Remus would want to kiss him back.

He tried to keep thinking it through in Potions, but Remus stood looking bemused as he ineptly chopped his dragon scales, with just the tip of his tongue sticking out as he concentrated. Sirius stared at that pink sliver between Remus's lips and could think of nothing but warm, searching mouths and Remus's arms tightly round him, his hands tangled in Sirius's hair, perhaps, or stroking his skin, the taste of sugar and tea, and the pleasure these elements combined would make him feel. And he had to sit down for a moment, suddenly quite dizzy, not to mention terrified he might have an orgasm there and then, without even touching any part of his body; because Remus was right beside him, looking worried.

Mind you, Remus was mainly worried about having to start off a potion on his own, without Sirius's help, since Remus was rubbish at Potions. Or so Sirius told himself as Remus knelt by his chair and asked, 'D'you think you're getting that wizarding flu, Padfoot?'

To which Sirius could only reply, 'Guh'; then, mastering himself a bit, 'Don't be an idiot, Moony. Go and finish preparing the ingredients. I'll be along in a minute.' He was going to say, 'I'll come in a minute,' but was rather worried that uttering the words might make them come true.

By lunch, he was no nearer kissing Remus, or deciding how to go about it. It was Friday, which meant fish pie and peas, with trifle for pudding to compensate for the rather dreary main course. Remus was the only one of the Marauders who really liked fish pie, so he ate most of Sirius's as well as his own, then attacked a big bowlful of trifle, heavy on the custard.

Sirius tried to focus on Remus eating. You couldn't fancy someone while he was scoffing huge platefuls of food, even if he didn't shovel up his meals as fast as James did. Except that Remus had an adorable way of looking quite ecstatic as each forkful went in, almost rolling his eyes with pleasure, savouring the flavour - with his mouth closed, of course; Remus had manners - and then swallowing slooowly. Sirius thought of that lovely, full mouth again, but not near his own mouth: this time, he imagined how it might slide over his cock and nibble or lick it, languorously, to prolong the sensation; or even suck it. He didn't get nearly as far as the swallowing bit. In fact, he had to excuse himself before he'd finished his pudding, go to the nearest loo and lock himself in a cubicle for a while.

He emerged refreshed, if a bit dishevelled, and ready for an afternoon in the Greenhouses studying the effect of carnivorous Doughplants on raisins transfigured into flies. Sirius worked with James in Herbology, and, like Remus, James was bit worried about his friend.

'What's up, Pads? You look like you've been twenty rounds with Mrs. Norris.'

'I'm fine,' Sirius lied. 'Why won't the plants eat the raisins, again? Why do we have to transfigure them?'

James gave him an odd look. 'Because they're carnivorous, Sirius. Are you sure you're okay?'

Sirius was not sure he was okay. Everything seemed to be ingesting something else today. He looked over at Remus feeding large bluebottles to his Doughplant. Remus stroked the leaves gently; the plant opened its jaws for him, and Remus dropped the flies in carefully one by one.

Sirius slid into a very graphic daydream in which he was coaxing Remus open, in a rather different way from merely kissing him. In this fantasy, Remus was lying on his stomach, naked, and Sirius was nuzzling him all down his spine, into the dip of his waist, and in a moment Sirius would lower himself and thrust into him, and their bodies would be one as they made glorious, hot love. He couldn't wait: he was so hard he was throbbing. He was biting Remus's shoulder, and they were both moaning and -

'Ow!'

'Sirius, what the hell d'you think you're doing?'

'It bit me, Prongs. The sodding Doughplant bit me.'

There was blood all over the greenhouse floor, and Professor Bluegrass hobbled over, not at all pleased. 'Mr. Black, will you try to be more careful? These are valuable plants.'

He then examined Sirius's wounded hand and said rather grudgingly, 'Better get you to the hospital wing, eh? Now, who's finished? Mr. Lupin. Could you kindly escort Mr Black to the infirmary? And try to make it quick. We have OWLs coming up in a few weeks.'

The two boys trotted across the lawn to the castle, Sirius cradling his injured hand, dripping a trail of blood as he went.

'Sirius. Let me.'

Remus took Sirius's hand in his own - Sirius inhaled a deep, steadying breath - and wrapped it in a remarkably clean white hanky, pulling the makeshift bandage as tightly as he could. 'There. That should stop the bleeding.' Where Remus had touched him, Sirius could feel his flesh tingle with the contact. He even groaned a bit, because his hand wasn't the only part of his body affected: he was extremely aroused again. He hoped that Remus would assume he was groaning with pain.

And he was also mesmerised. Remus was standing very close indeed to him. Remus's face was right in front of his, so he could look straight into his bright, hazel eyes, and oh, God, that wonderful mouth was just a few millimetres away, and perhaps this might be a good time to - But before Sirius could formulate the thought, Remus grabbed him rather clumsily, pulled his head down and proceeded to kiss him thoroughly, if a bit wetly.

Not that Sirius was objecting. Once he'd got over the first shock, he even managed to kiss Remus back. And it was at least as brilliant as he'd imagined: soft, but slightly rough lips, greedy tongues, Remus's hand stroking the nape of his neck and eliciting some strange and unexpected reactions. All in all, it was everything he had dreamed a kiss might be. And Remus seemed to be enjoying it too, and was even making little sounds that had Sirius shivering with desire.

The erstwhile tourniquet unwound itself and slipped to the ground as Sirius drew Remus closer, getting blood all over Remus's hair and both their robes. But neither of them noticed.

'I've been dying to do that all day,' Remus confessed. He looked a little embarrassed, but was obviously gratified enough by Sirius's response to initiate another soul-searing kiss; this one must have lasted a good fifteen minutes, but neither boy was counting.

Sirius was pleased that he'd got one problem sorted out - or rather, that Remus had sorted it out - but he started to ponder again, before the kiss was even properly over.

How did you tell one of your best friends you wanted to shag him?

End