Chapter 8

Remus froze. Sirius’s lips upon his were warm and wet. His heartbeat had accelerated, and he was suddenly flushed. His guilt was fading away like fog swept away by a warm breeze. He couldn’t think, couldn’t hear, and couldn’t see. He could only feel Sirius and his lips and, oh, God, he liked it.

Sirius pulled away, his face slightly red, and said firmly “Yes I mean it, you prat.” Remus couldn’t remember how his hands had wrapped themselves in Sirius’s robes, or why he was pressed against the wall, but he didn’t want to let go. He wondered why Sirius had even spoken.

Grabbing Sirius by the hair, he pulled them close and kissed him. He pressed their bodies together and closed his eyes, just as Sirius opened Remus’s mouth with his lips and snuck his tongue in. It was a very odd sensation, very wet and slippery. He tasted like salted crackers with a tinge of cherry from the candy he had eaten to get the taste of Madam Pomfrey’s blood potion out of his mouth. He could feel the heat from Sirius rising and pressing against him and flowing to almost every part of his body. He found himself being touched in places he had never thought another boy should touch…

Remus suddenly pulled away. What was he doing? Sirius was his friend, his best mate, not to mention a boy. His head was spinning. But…he had never felt like that before. It had felt more real than anything he had ever experienced, and he couldn’t see how that was wrong. But Sirius was a boy…

Remus looked up at his friend. Sirius was staring at him, one hand on the wall above him and the other on Remus’s chest, a slightly hurt look on his handsome face. Remus shrank. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cool stone of the castle wall. He could feel his throat clenching up again, his eyes burning, the frustrated tears threatening to burst out of him.

Remus felt Sirius’s arms wrap around him as Sirius clutched him, shaking. He buried his face in Remus’s robes and let out a dry sob. Remus could no longer hold it together. Tears streamed down his face freely, dripping onto Sirius’s head as the two boys held each other. The flaming orange sun had drifted down between the lowest towers of Hogwarts castle, and tiny stars began to appear in the velvety twilight.

A shaky voice whispered through the silence. “I thought I bit you, you know, Padfoot…”

An equally trembling voice answered. “ You can’t bite me, Moony.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“And have millions of little wolf-pups running rampant through the forest? Dumbledore’d kick me out.”

A laugh.

“I mean it…”

“You idiot,”

TBC

OoOOoOOoO

A/N

Wow! That sure looks like the end, doesn’t it? Well, I am a very nice dead person so I decided to write another chapter. All Praise the Almighty Footpad! WhOOO!

Anyway, I suck at these so I’m going to shut up now. Thank you.