Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

A/N: I'm posting this at the risk of being completely MAULED TO DEATH by non slashy people. But, you know, bugger it. I'll write what I want. And I like writing Sirius/Remus. So… har har. This was written for my lovely friend Marilyn's birthday. She is many synonyms of the word brilliant. Onwards with the fic!

A mix of chemicals and fear

Remus remembers the very first book he was given by his father, which he read entirely on his own in just one night under his bed sheet by torchlight: Peter Pan.

When Remus turns eleven he meets Peter Pan in person. Except he goes by the name of Sirius Black. He is cocky, he is beautiful, and he loathes adults. He doesn't like girls - he finds them annoying. He doesn't like women - he finds them annoying too (first hand experience of his hag of a mother taught him to dislike the opposite sex). Instead of flying, he talks endlessly about owning a flying motorbike.

When McGonagall asks Remus what he would like to be when he grows up, he resists saying alive or not a werewolf, if possible, and answers her with the sensible a professor or librarian. When the question is thrown upon Sirius, he replies:

"When I grow up I want to be a little boy."

Remus will never forget that response.

One day he lends Peter Pan to Sirius, but he learns soon after it's a mistake - Sirius adores the book and truly believes Peter Pan was based on him. He also decides Remus is a Wendy Darling, and likes to call him it at every opportune moment. Remus doesn't argue.

One night Sirius can't sleep and crawls into Remus' bed. He shifts a little to make room for him, but Sirius is difficult and squashes up against him.

"To die will be an awfully big adventure," Sirius whispers after a large yawn, then succumbs to sleep.

Remus knows they're words from the book, but Sirius says it not in recitation, but as though he truly believes it. With such emotion and grey sober eyes it's like he created the line himself. Now Remus has chills and is the one who can't get to sleep. He tries to sneak out of bed and into Sirius' empty one – sleeping hip against hip with Sirius does not seem like a wise idea - but as Remus gets up, the mattress lurches, and Sirius uses his hand to tug him back by the waist, accompanied by a tired grunt that sounds very much like don't go, and he doesn't, because he's a pushover and a doormat and a Wendy Darling.

Remus can't quite pinpoint when reading became a punishment for being too fond of Sirius. He has a feeling it was when he stopped thinking that's my mate Padfoot along The Adolescent Path of No Sense and started thinking oh God it's Sirius and don't make a prat of yourself in front of him and oh it's too late.

He catches himself staring at Sirius when he's swaggering across the dorm or poking his dinner or flicking ink with his quill intentionally over James' parchment in class, and it's far, far from casual observance, it's studying of the fond kind. And he tells himself that's alright between friends - the way Sirius walks and talks and acts (and breathes) is attractive to people, but Remus is a Wendy Darling and Sirius is a Peter Pan and everyone knows deeps down Wendy wants to jump Peter's bones. So Remus punishes himself. When he catches himself looking at Sirius even in the slightest doting way, he has to read five pages of Hogwarts, a History. Obviously it's not a cruel punishment (reading isn't really torture, more of a delight), which is why he finds himself so easily breaking the rules and stealing a glance at Sirius anyway when he's not looking.

But then his 'thing' for Sirius starts to grow. Now Remus isn't just staring at one of his best friends, he's quivering pleasantly when Sirius slings his arm over his shoulder and squeezes it (that's ten pages of punishment), and Sirius tells him he loves him for letting him copy off his homework and Remus takes it too seriously (twenty pages), and when Sirius has too many drinks, hugs him tight and mumbles incoherent things into his neck, Remus wishes he were as drunk so he could do something to Sirius he'd regret in the morning (thirty pages). And somehow in just one day Remus has lost count of the number of pages he has to read because of his wrongdoing, but it probably borders on a thousand.

Panicking because of this, Remus decides to read all of Hogwarts, a History in one night or he isn't allowed to sleep, as punishment to make him feel better. When he thinks his friends are asleep in the dorm, he fishes out the book and reads it under his duvet by wand light. But by five pages he's already fed up. He's become sick of reading, sick of sticking his head in a book like sticking it in sand.

All of a sudden, his duvet is pulled away from him and he is exposed. Jumping in fright, he points his wand directly at the face of the culprit: Sirius.

"Can't sleep?" Remus figures, his heartbeat racing.

"Not with you bloody flicking pages." And before Remus can protest, Sirius is climbing into his bed again and extinguishing his wand's light without asking him.

"I was reading," Remus hisses in the darkness.

"At three in the sodding morning? Not if I can help it." Sirius's groping hands search for the book under the covers.

"That's – ahaha – that's my arm."

"Oh. Sorry. Is that-?"

"No… that's my thigh." There's a moment of uncomfortable silence between the boys, before they finally break into laughter, muffled so not to wake James or Peter. Finally, Sirius locates the book near Remus' stomach. He boots it off the bed.

As usual, Remus tries to get away, but somehow Sirius has twisted his leg around his, trapping the limb along with the werewolf so he can't escape. Funnily enough, Remus doesn't complain.

"Sirius?" whispers Remus after a minute, not knowing whether he'd fallen asleep yet.

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to be a Wendy Darling."

Remus swears he can see Sirius smirk in the gloom.

"You can't choose not to be what you're born into, Moony."

"I could be a Peter," Remus starts faintly, but Sirius is shaking his head in amusement.

"No you couldn't. You've always been a Wendy Darling - that's your fate. James is one too, don't worry. You're going to marry, have little Moony sprogs, and grow up."

"I don't want to grow up," Remus says suddenly, because he figures if he does, become an adult with responsibilities, there's no way he can be with Sirius, forever young.

"You already have," Sirius lets him down gently.

"No," Remus disagrees, becoming angry. "No, I can be a Peter if I want to-"

"Moony," laughs Sirius, only amused by Remus' irritation, "don't argue with me on this-"

But he completely forgets what he's about to say or do or think and he has a feeling this sensation is going to last several days, because Remus is kissing him - kissing him hard. Remus feels like he's very drunk - perhaps he is unaware, because never thought he'd have the guts to do this sober. This deserves the punishment of reading an entire library, Remus reflects, and it's this thought that forces him to break the kiss, ashamed for doing something so rash and foolish.

"Sorry," Remus launches quickly into an apology, but Sirius closes his hand over Remus' mouth.

"Don't be, you bloody Wendy."

Certain Remus isn't going to go on a palaver of unwanted requests for forgiveness, Sirius releases his hand from his mouth and wraps an arm around his neck, pulling him close.

"You don't want to be a Peter Pan," Sirius tells him quietly, hugging him tighter so Remus can't see his face, only the soft skin of his collarbone. "Peter Pan's fucked up. Peter's fucked up real bad, Moony. 'Cause he's not refusing to grow up, not really. He's just scared. It's not that he doesn't want adult responsibilities, it's the fact that he knows he'll fuck them up when he has them. He doesn't want to get a job and sell his soul to an employer, he doesn't want to see his best friends get married and have babies and care more about their wives than their mates-"

"Stop speaking as though you're talking about Peter Pan when you mean yourself," Remus cuts him off gently, not being able to bear Sirius carry on.

"Sorry." The word sounds foreign to Sirius. He rarely apologies, and only Remus makes him do it.

"Don't be, you bloody Peter." He strokes Sirius' head. "And don't be so scared of growing older when you've got people who care about you going through the exact same thing, and they're not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"I promise you," Remus gives his word; because in this story Wendy Darling sticks with Peter no matter what.