This wasn't Remus' first kiss. It was just the first kiss that meant something.

His first kiss—and the majority of the ones that followed—had been with Marlene McKinnon. She was an incredibly great girl, Remus would tell anyone who listened, with pretty red hair and warm brown eyes. Remus had liked her very much, and when he was sixteen, he had finally managed to 'seal the deal' with her, so to speak. However, as much as Remus had enjoyed his time with Marley, it wasn't meant to last. As he had remarked to his friends, there were only so many times you could explain to a girl why you suddenly went missing or just weren't in the mood before she got a bit fed up. Remus could tell that Marlene knew that his excuses were lies—she was a smart witch. Remus just couldn't bring himself to tell her why he had to lie, and when finally confronted and asked to tell the truth, Remus claimed there was someone else in the picture.

It wasn't entirely false, of course. There had been someone else in the picture (and not the wolf), but Remus was loath to admit that (even to himself) and so at the time considered that to be his final lie to Marlene. The two broke things off and parted ways, though they remained friendly with each other. That had been at the end of fifth year. For most of his sixth year, Remus had to grapple with a rather uncomfortable truth: he wouldn't be able to date anyone who couldn't accept him for who he was as a matter of personal conviction. Remus was a superb liar, much to his own chagrin, but he hated doing it—especially to someone he was supposed to be falling for. He decided from that point on, the only people he could truly be (in a serious way) 'with' had to already know he was a werewolf and be perfectly alright with it. That narrowed the pool of potential dating candidates considerably. The only fellow students who knew about his condition were Lily (off bounds and of no romantic interest to Remus), Severus Snape (Remus couldn't even imagine), and the Marauders. So, he assumed, that would be the end of that. He would live the rest of his years perpetually loveless.

He assumed wrong. Perhaps it was the realization that the pool was as shallow as it was, or perhaps it was the fact that there had always been a bit of something between them, but in the middle of his sixth year, Remus realized that he had a crush on Sirius Black. It wasn't sudden, of course—nothing with Remus was. It was slow and purposeful, likely as a result of the two boys having always had a close bond but not saying much about it. It was Sirius, after all, who figured out first why Remus vanished every month. It was Sirius who defended Remus whenever anyone—Marauders included—ever said anything even remotely against him (see: the Whomping Willow incident), even as a joke (see: James Potter). It was Sirius, who gave him these great big bear hugs. Sirius who would tuck the wily hair behind Remus' ear as he read, who was angriest at the pain the young werewolf went through every month, and who had been the most determined to become Animagi to help him.

In turn, Remus knew more about the Black heir than any of their other friends. Remus knew how much the boy's family affected him before Sirius told James and finally left home. Remus knew why Sirius knew so many defensive spells—for his own protection against the worst members of his family. He knew why the goofy, if somewhat brash, boy always had up some kind of shield. Sirius went through more turmoil than James or Peter could ever imagine. It wasn't necessarily more turmoil than Remus, but it was different. Remus, after all, had loving parents and grew up in a kind and relatively happy home. However, shared experience with trauma seemed to draw the boys close together, like two broken pieces of the same plate. They relied on each other greatly, and while James would always be Sirius' best friend, Remus was Sirius' best…something else. Words couldn't do the bond justice. It was more than having a friend—it was having a confidant, a steady supporter, even like having a therapist all rolled up into one.

Perhaps it was the gentle way the boys cared for each other that led to the unspoken love they had for each other. As the years went on, this love grew, eventually becoming something both boys realized was actual love and not just the love of a pack of Marauders. Remus needed Sirius to feel whole and human. Sirius needed Remus in a very similar way, though he couldn't articulate it as well as his well-read friend. As with any other crush, Remus noticed that what were just the brotherly hugs Sirius would give him felt like so much more. The little touches, and soft smiles, all of it made his stomach tense up and turn uncontrollably. It wasn't the same kind of anxiety Remus felt close to every full moon, but it was close. It was butterflies. Remus felt butterflies in his stomach when Sirius breathed too close, or grinned too much, or did much of anything really—too much or just enough.

Sirius, in turn, had to spend a great deal of energy not thinking about Remus all the time. His mind had more to it than most people thought, but as the days of sixth year went on, Sirius couldn't help but have his mind clouded solely with images of Remus. Some were soft and tender—Remus curled up reading a book, for example, smiling that slightly crooked way over the pages. Others were certainly tender, but hardly what Sirius thought he should be thinking about. Why did he want so badly to jump his friend? It wasn't as though Sirius was a stranger to the desires any teenage boy might have, and he had certainly indulged in his fair share, but never with his friend. No, not his friend—his person. Sirius didn't have a word or phrase for what his Moony was to him. Sirius, it seemed, had felt at least something significantly different from friendship for Moony for some time. It surprised him how badly he hated Marlene—a perfectly nice girl—for so long until he finally allowed himself to realize what he called hate was jealousy. He didn't want Remus shagging, snogging, or dating Marlene—he wanted Remus to do all those things with and to him. The thought made him sick—not from shame, but from worry and angst. Sirius didn't see himself going on without Remus' support, which he thought he would surely lose if he told Remus how he felt.

All of this sat in the minds of the two boys as they laid out under the large oak tree by the lake one sunny day in the early fall of their seventh year. James and Peter were who knows where—Remus had not bothered to ask—but that was just how it was sometimes. Peter followed James around like a puppy. The other two Marauders were far less inclined to do so, and they were perfectly comfortably uncomfortable in each other's company. Perfectly comfortable, as they could not stand to be apart for too long. Uncomfortable from the butterflies raging in their stomachs the closer to each other they got. Uncomfortable from what those butterflies meant, and what could happen should the boys act on their desires. But it was perfect.

As far as things went for Sirius Black, the kiss had come on rather slowly. Remus felt like it came at him with the speed of a bullet. The two had just been sitting there, the tension between them thick enough it needed to be cut with a machete. In some fate-like moment, both boys turned to each other simultaneously after a lull in their conversation. Both had been trying to steal a look at the other, and the lust in their eyes was evident. For the first time, Remus saw in Sirius' eyes what he believed to be so painfully obvious in his own each time the floppy-haired boy walked into the room. Sirius, in turn, saw what he had been so desperately begging to see for years: an actual chance at love. So, the Animagus took his opportunity swiftly and planted a kiss on Remus' mouth. Half of him thought it wouldn't be returned—luckily, it was the other half that won out.

Remus pushed himself deeper into the kiss, curling his fingers free from the grass and around Sirius' jaw. The kiss wasn't long—only a few seconds—but to the boys it felt like months (or years, perhaps) of pining finally coming to an end in one glorious moment of truth. And it felt like heaven on earth.

As Remus pulled away from the kiss, he smiled a full smile, eyes lighting up. This hadn't been Remus' first kiss. It was just the first kiss that meant something. And boy, did it mean something. Sirius, in turn, grinned and emitted a low sort of chuckle. The boys were both a bit red, and not just from the sun. They had just been more vulnerable with each other than they ever had been before.

"I've wanted to do that for years," Sirius whispered, breaking the silence.

Remus felt his stomach lurch happily. Years? Sirius has wanted me for…how long again? And how long exactly have I wanted him?

"I don't think I knew, but I think I've wanted you to do that just as long," Remus admitted, hands shaking a bit. Nerves, he gathered.

Sirius rolled his eyes, laughing and shaking backwards into the grass. Remus narrowed his eyes, whacking the boy slightly.

"Ow!" Sirius yelped, though he still grinned. "What was that for?"

"You were laughing," Remus huffed. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because, you silly werewolf," Sirius teased, "I finally knew something before you did."

"What, that you should kiss me?"

"That," Sirius paused, "and that we'd be good at it. It was just as I always imagined: sitting somewhere, not doing anything much, but just seeing the look in your eyes I've wanted to see and knowing I could finally take a chance."

"That a chance at what, exactly?" Remus asked with a bit of amusement behind his gaze, now soft.

"A chance of showing you I love you," Sirius said quietly. "I know, I know—you aren't supposed to say the love word so soon, but I can't help it. You've done me in, I suppose."

Remus laughed. I've done him in? He thought. Now it was Sirius' turn to whack his pal.

"Hey!" Remus nearly squealed.

"You were laughing," Sirius said pointedly. "I pour my heart out to you and you laugh—"

"I'm not laughing at that," Remus chuckled. "I'm laughing at the fact that here I was, moping about unrequited love for months and all this time I couldn't see what was right in front of me. I pride myself on being bright, you know. This just shows me how downright thick I've been, thinking here that you've done me in without me doing anything to you in return."

"You did seem less surprised than I imagined," Sirius pointed out. "Still do. And you're not going off about how this can't happen—not like you did with Marlene," he added.

Remus rolled his eyes.

"No, because I already spent years attempting to dissuade you lot from being friends with me in the first place—after a while, I gave up. Figured if you were going to leave, you would've done so by now. Besides," Remus added, a glint to his eye, "I've decided to be selfish. I want this—and you know the risks of being with me better than anyone else."

"Oh yes," Sirius snorted, "the risks. How could I forget the risks? They've been cemented in my brain for years now. Still," he insisted, "I'd expect you to try to convince me to be with someone normal, or some nonsense like that—"

"Oh please," Remus huffed. "You're Sirius Black. I think we know you'd never settle for someone normal—though you may have outdone yourself this time. Bent werewolf?"

"You know that's not why," Sirius said softly, turning a bit, mind the pun, serious. "You're right, you know—we'd both be hopeless with nearly anyone else—but I think you know what you are to me."

"A good snog?" Remus teased, unused to his…well, whatever he was, being so homed in on reality.

"I love you," Sirius insisted. "And you don't have to say it back, but—"

"Of course I love you, git," Remus added in for good measure. He bit his lip ever so lightly. "But you know that too. The question is…should anyone else?"

"What, should anyone else love me?" Sirius asked, in mock annoyance. "Moony, how dare—"

"No!" Remus sighed, though he was still grinning. "What I meant was, should the two tossers we live with know."

"Oh," Sirius said softly. "That. Well, I've already told James how I feel—"

"You what?"

"—And Peter, of course, was with him, so he heard—"

"—he did?"

"And both said I should grow a pair because according to them, they figured it out for themselves, and it was so obvious that you had, and I am quoting here, so please don't hit me, 'a great big hard on' for me—"

Remus whacked Sirius in the arm. The floppy-haired boy rubbed his now-bruising bicep, though he supposed he should've expected something of the sort. He then continued:

"Right. So, I don't know if you've noticed, but they've tended to leave us alone more than usual…and you're laughing again. Why are you laughing?"

"Because," Remus chuckled, rolling his eyes, "They didn't just 'figure it out themselves'—James confronted me. I couldn't lie, so I told him the truth—that I, apparently, had a 'great big hard on' for his best mate. Then, of course, Peter comes out of nowhere, so it seems—"

"Those gits!" Sirius exclaimed, sitting upright. "They told me they were geniuses for figuring it out, leading me on, making me feel like absolute idiot for not knowing…Oh well this won't do," Sirius muttered, shaking his head.

Remus sat up as well, trying to look into Sirius eyes.

"Padfoot," he began cautiously, "what are you thinking right now?"

Sirius snapped his head around, clutching Remus' jaw and giving him a brief peck on the lips.

"I'm thinking," he said in a calculating sort of way, "that we play a little prank on those two conniving little bastards."

Remus' brow raised in such a professorial manner that anyone might have thought he disapproved. Beneath that, however, was a clear look of mischief in his eyes.

"Well, good," he huffed. "It's about time we had the upper hand in all of this."

"I'll give you an upper hand," Sirius smirked.

Remus rolled his eyes.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"An…upper hand? Like a handy or something?"

"Merlin," Remus sighed, falling back into the grass. It was potentially the worst pun he had ever heard in his life. "I'm in love with an idiot, aren't I."

"Yes," Sirius chuckled, straddling Remus. "I'm afraid you've fallen for my idiotic charm," he whispered, planting another kiss on the werewolf's mouth—a reciprocated one, of course. Remus wrapped his gangly arms around Sirius, pulling him closer and closing his eyes, taking all of everything in. This moment was perfect, and as the two drew away from the kiss, their eyes flickered open and they both found themselves smiling. There was a moment of silence as they gazed into each other's eyes—a silence Remus was quite enjoying, until the inevitable.

"So, want that upper hand?"