Past Midnight

WARNING: Containing Sirius/Harry slash. If you don't want to read it, then don't.

Disclaimer: Rowling did it. I stole it. I own nothing but the plot (err... what plot?)

Rating: PG-13

This is fluff. Fluffy fluff.

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It was five o'clock after midnight, and Sirius hadn't slept a single moment.

He was laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts were going around and around in his head. Memories of the last evening, bright and happy and warm they were, every single one of them. Memories of all the youngsters and Remus together there, everyone happy and cheerful. Memories of a warm hand in his own, grasping on him tightly.

It had been very nice at all. Ginny and Neville had used half of the evening trying to hide somewhere for snogging. Ron and Hermione haven't been even bothered to hide anywhere. They had kissed each other many times, and always in front of all the others, causing a lot of laughing and giggling.

Remus had looked happy, too. His old friend had been glad with having all that life around himself, and he was the one who deserved to be happy. Remus had lost all his old friends at least once. Sirius was the only one who had came back to him. James and Lily hadn't. Nor had Peter.

He told himself not to think about Peter anymore. Let that little rat be alone, he told himself. He deserves nothing but being totally forgotten. I am happy now, am I not? And Peter is not a happy thing at all.

He heard a quiet breath next to him, and slender fingers touched his back, when the his lover stirred in his sleep. He couldn't help himself remembering those fingers only some hours before, gently petting his hair, tapping his neck, stroking his lips...

He turned around to have a look at him. The covers were pulled to his waist, showing all his muscular upper body. A sportman's body, it was. Muscular and solid and slim, exactly in perfect shape.

Of course he was in perfect shape. Everything in him was perfect.

He reached out his hand to touch the pale skin. He felt the other man's warmness under his fingertips. He remembered how happe he had been last evening, when they had at last admitted their love to the others.

They had taken it a great deal better than he'd thought. It seemed that they had no problems about them two being in love with each other. In fact, Hermione had told that she had known that before. Ginny surely had, because she had told them that she did - a whole month before they told any of the others. Ron and Neville had looked a bit uneasy at first, but soonly they became okay with it. And Remus - well, Remus was what he always was; totally joyful for seeing his friends happy.

They had had a wonderful night after that. They had gone to a restaurant, all of them together. After that they had been in a Muggle amusement park, for the great fun of everyone - only Harry had been in anything like that before, and he hadn't had any fun around there, for it being Dudley's birthday.

And after that they had only stayed in his large house, all together, until they were too tired to do anything but giggling and telling bad jokes. Very bad, to be accurate. On that point they had decided that the youngsters would be better to leave to the Burrow, where they all were spending their summer. Remus had, tactful as he was, leaved to his own house some time after that, leaving them two alone.

And after that - well, then it had only became better.

A little grin curved his lips. He raised himself a little bit, leaning towards his lover. He was asleep, peacefully breathing in and out, in and out. Sirius stroked a single lock of raven black hair off from his beautiful face.

He stayed there for a while, only examining his lover with his eyes. Those strong arms, narrow waist, that face of a man only a bit older than eighteen. And still he looked older - he had been through so much. God, he had been through definitely too much. No one deserved a life like his, and especially not him. He, who was the kindest and bravest and absolutely best person Sirius knew, and who had done nothing in his whole life to deserve any of those horrible things happen to him.

He leaned forward and placed a little, tender kiss on the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. "I love you, Harry", he whispered with a gentle voice. "I love you so much."

He heard the younger man mumbling in his sleep, but he didn't wake up.

He put his head down on the pillow, winded his arm around Harry's neck and placed his another hand on his chest. He felt comfortable and warm, having Harry there next to him.

Soon he was asleep.

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Short, fluffy one-shot. So what? It was pretty fun to write!

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