Rainy Days

Remus really, really hates rainy days.

He actually doesn't mind the rain itself; he likes the way it smells, the way it patters on the windows, a soothing background noise while he's reading in the common room. No, he doesn't have a problem with the rain itself, but rain seems to bring out a sort of strange insanity in certain people. Well, in one certain person, anyway.

"Remus!" Sirius cries, leaping down the stairs from the boys' dormitories and launching himself at Remus's chair. Remus throws up his hands, giving the book up as lost; goodbye, Yeats, you never had a chance, he thinks sorrowfully, and then the considerable teenage-boy bulk of Sirius Black hits him fully in the chest, knees first.

"Oomph," Remus whimpers as the chair topples over backwards.

About three minutes later, when he can breathe comfortably again, he lifts his head and looks around. Sirius is sprawled next to him on the floor, his face inches away from Remus's own.

"You," Remus says, "are a madman."

"Just the rain, love, just the rain," Sirius says happily.

"No, you're a madman anyway," Remus replies, sighing. "What do you want?"

"I'm bored, Moony," Sirius says mournfully. "It is raining and I have nothing to do."

"You could do something constructive," Remus suggests. "Like that Potions essay that you've been putting off for days."

"Bah," Sirius says dismissively. "You have no sense of fun."

"Or maybe I just actually have a good sense of my priorities," Remus says.

Sirius sighs dramatically.

"You could go down to the kitchens," Remus suggests.

"I've already been," Sirius groans, rolling over and flinging his arm across Remus's chest. "The house elves stuffed me full of sweets. I am a cream-filled Sirius concoction. I bet I taste heavenly with chocolate icing." He bats his eyelashes playfully at Remus.

Remus rolls his eyes. "I think the rain is getting worse."

"Can I kiss you?" Sirius asks suddenly.

Remus's breath hitches. "God, it must be a monsoon out there," he says warily. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Come on," Sirius says. "Haven't you ever wondered how it is to kiss someone who isn't of the fairer sex?"

"Actually, I have yet to kiss a member of the fairer sex," Remus says lightly, "maybe I should work on that first and then get back to you?"

Nonsense," Sirius says, and then he flips himself over, his chest settling comfortably against Remus's own, his knees between Remus's knees, his dark, shaggy hair hanging down in Remus's eyes.

"Um," Remus says.

"Come on, Moony," Sirius whispers, pushing himself up on his elbows to get a proper look at Remus's face. Priceless, he thinks wickedly, how wonderfully uncomfortable our darling Moony looks!

"This is not happening," Remus murmurs weakly.

"Oh, but it is," Sirius says, and then he tilts his head downwards and catches Remus's lips with his own.

Remus is surprised by the kiss; it is soft and gentle, nothing like the whirlwind of tongue and spit that he's seen Sirius give innumerable girls on innumerable occasions. Sirius's hands are in his hair, his nails raking across his scalp, and oh god, Remus thinks...

Sirius lifts his head and grins down at Remus. "Moony, my dear," he drawls, "is that a bar of chocolate in your pants or are you just..."

"That is quite enough of that," Remus says, shoving Sirius off himself and leaping to his feet. He gives Sirius his most formidable Prefect Look, and is rewarded with a patented Lascivious Sirius Black Grin.

"See you later, eh, Moony?" Sirius says, blowing Remus a kiss before disappearing through the portrait hole.

Remus glances out the window. The rain drums against the glass, a promise of more rains to come.

Perhaps the rain isn't so bad, he thinks idly before returning to the fireplace to search for his lost book.