Remus wasn't exactly a fan of The Velvet Underground. He just didn't buy into the depth of a song about "shiny boots of leather," drugs or no drugs. Sirius, however, soaked it up like stolen liquor. "Merlin, Remus, you're so bloody prosaic!" he'd insist while emphatically waving his cigarette around. Remus simply ignored him, instead musing on how only a seventeen-year-old like Sirius could use the word "prosaic" and make it sound natural. Perhaps it was one of the few benefits of his pureblood upbringing. Sirius was really only good at pretending he understood what it all meant, anyway. He doubted the wizard-raised boy even knew what heroin actually was.

Still, despite the teasing and the fake bohemian nonchalance, Remus adored his mornings with Sirius, listening to deep music while Peter slept and James went out to the pitch for an early practice.

It was on such a morning, as Nico's drawling, deep voice vibrated under Remus's ear, and they were both sprawled out in a blanket on one of the many balconies of the castle that Remus marveled at the easy happiness that came with listening to Sirius speak.

Tha taller boy had just finished another long tangent on the hidden joys of Lou Reed's music.

"Y'know Moony," he mumbled around his fag, "you just have to close your eyes and listen, but, y'know, not listen. Just keep your eyes closed and you can feel it. Without listening, y'know?"

Sirius glanced over at him.

"Mm."

Remus did not know, but he dutifully closed his eyes and reveled in the softness of Sirius's hair on his arm. A settled silence had fallen on them like a net and Remus half-smiled up at the pink in the sky in giddy appreciation for it. It was chilly in the mornings, and the trees above them would sometimes shake stale rain on their faces, but it was also perfect. So, so perfect.

Heroin started up, a pretty intro of guitar and violin. Sirius had stubbed out his cigarette near Remus's forehead.

"Sirius, that's going to catch the blanket..."

He stopped abruptly, because Sirius was just staring at him with that intense, 'I'm about to do something reckless and completely nonsensical' look in his eyes.

"What?"

And Sirius leaned over and kissed him soundly on the lips. It was a long kiss, clumsy, with clacking teeth and bumping noses and knocking cheek bones, Lou Reed's voice was getting louder and the drum was speeding up it's staccato, uneven rhythm, and Sirius's hair was tickling his chin, and Sirius's hand was on his neck, and Remus closed his eyes and just /felt everything,/ and there was a silly laugh in the music. Remus was giggling too, feeling Sirius smile around his tongue, and his lower lip was smacking and wet, and his body was getting warm, and suddenly the agonized, ripping chords of the strings died off and just as abruptly, so did the kiss.

The record clicked, fuzzed, and started over as they stared at each other. Then Remus said, "Oh."

Sirius grinned, popped a cigarette in his mouth, and said, "Exactly."

Remus went back to staring at the sky as Sirius started up talking again. He closed his eyes, listened without really listening, and smiled.