Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warning: Slash, get over it, or get out. Hangover unpleasantness.

Intro

Hot. Wet. Dark. Red heat. Sweet sweat. Slick bodies moving, writhing together in a primitive dance. Touch. Feel. Moan. Cry. The scent of alcohol and passion.

Silence.

One-Night Stand

Part One

The brilliant mid-winter sunshine spread across the grounds of Hogwarts as it did every dawn. The freshly-fallen snow glittered in the new light. Gradually, the golden beams crawled up the castle walls, glinting on windows, filling rooms.

In the common room of Gryffindor Tower, the bodies strewn across the floor and furniture began to stir as the sunlight hit their eyes, whimpering in pain as their tender heads began to pound. Most of them wanted nothing more than to turn over and go back to sleep, but term had ended the day before, and the train back to London left early from the Hogsmeade station.

The light continued to effortlessly climb the walls of the tower to flood the room at the very top: home of Gryffindor's male seventh year students. It crept across the floor and peeped between drawn curtains into three empty beds before reaching the fourth bed with red curtains pulled tightly closed. Only a single sunbeam managed to sneak through a slit in the draperies, conveniently falling across the closed eyes of the tawny-haired boy sleeping within.

The boy shifted, trying to get away from the intruding brightness. He turned on his pillow, and wound up with a face full of hair. With a groan, he forced one eye open, then, unsure of what he was looking at, the other. Even with both eyes open, the hair in his face was definitely black. That couldn't be right. He closed his eyes again, turning away from the inexplicable black hair on his pillow, deciding he was too hung over to worry about it at the moment. The sun burned into his eyelids once more.

With a great effort, the tawny-haired boy rolled over, away from the evil beam of fire. Something was wrong. His bed was moving slightly underneath him, and it felt strangely like a person.

He forced his eyes open again, and, through the haze that swirled around him, he made out two legs, a torso, two arms, and a head with shoulder-length black hair. That explained the black hair on the pillow, and it was definitely a person, so there was nothing wrong with the bed. That settled, the golden-brown eyes slid shut once more and the tawny head slumped onto one of the bare shoulders of the dark-haired boy, preparing once more for sleep.

The dark-haired boy stirred beneath his bedmate, and one of his arms wrapped around the tawny-haired boy, caressing the bare skin of his back. The tawny-haired boy sighed comfortably, snuggling closer.

A split-second later, the golden-brown eyes snapped open again and their owner yanked out of the other boy's hold so hard he went tumbling through the curtains and off the bed, landing hard on the floor with a cry of surprise. His head and stomach screamed at him for the sudden movement, and the rest of his body clamored a protest at the rough landing. Some bogged-down thought told him it wasn't just the fall that had caused the strange soreness he was feeling, but he was too busy fighting down his rebellious stomach to pay any attention.

The black-haired head, followed by a neck and lightly tanned shoulders, appeared over the edge of the bed, grey eyes blinking blearily down at the boy on the floor. "Remus?" he asked, voice scratchy.

Remus, judging it best to keep his mouth shut until he was certain of his control over his innards, didn't respond.

"What are you doing on the floor?" the dark-haired boy asked. He blinked, looking confused, then changed his question. "What were you doing in my bed?"

Remus, assured his stomach wouldn't revolt immediately, croaked, "My bed, not yours," and clamped his lips together again.

The confused look deepened. "What am I doing in your bed?" Grey eyes slowly traveled over Remus's naked form, then widened and darted back up to meet golden-brown. "No."

Remus didn't have a chance to question the dark-haired boy. "I think I'm going to be sick," he managed to say, then, despite the loud objections of his body and head, he bolted for the bathroom just in time.

Cool hands soothed Remus's hot skin as he emptied his stomach, keeping his hair out of his face, and rubbing comforting circles on his back. When the brown-eyed boy was finished, the dark-haired boy handed him a glass of water to rinse out his mouth, then carefully wiped his face for him with a damp washcloth.

"Thanks, Sirius," Remus whispered, looking down, unable to meet the grey eyes in front of him. Belatedly, he realized they were both still completely nude. He grabbed a pair of towels from one of the shelves and thrust one towards the dark-haired boy, wrapping the other tightly around his own waist.

Sirius stared at the towel in his hand for a long moment, as though unsure what it was for, then copied Remus in winding it around his waist.

Neither boy looked at each other for what felt like an eternity. A very long eternity.

Finally, Sirius broke the silence. "We… we didn't…" he bit his lip and met Remus's eyes. "Did we?"

Remus shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't want their friendship to be ruined. "Just because we woke up naked and in bed together doesn't necessarily prove sex was involved," (1) he muttered.

"It does, however, make for a very strong case," (2) Sirius pointed out. He was fidgeting with a lock of his hair.

Remus nodded, and wished he hadn't: his head still hurt.

"Do you remember anything?" Sirius asked.

"I remember James suggesting we have a party after dinner to celebrate end of term," Remus replied slowly. "And I remember sneaking down to the kitchens for food with Peter and Lily while you and James went to Hogsmeade to get drinks. And I remember music, and food, and drinking," Remus gingerly rubbed his temples. "Lots of drinking. And then we all played suck-and-blow (3), and I think I kissed Lily, and we kissed, and then we all played spin-the-bottle (4), and we kissed again, and then you kissed Lily, and Lily kissed Frank Longbottom, and James got mad, but then he kissed Alice after she kissed Frank, and then I kissed James, and then we kissed again, and then…" Remus blinked, trying to think. "It's all kind of blurry after that. I think we kept playing. I know we kept drinking. I remember us kissing again, but I can't remember if we were still playing… we must have been, because otherwise, why would we be kissing?" The little part of Remus's brain that was not preoccupied with the hammers banging away inside his skull made itself heard at that point, stating that it could come up with several reasons why they might have been kissing, but Remus told it to shut up, because the dark head was nodding in agreement.

"Yeah," Sirius murmured. "Must have still been playing. Do you… do you remember anything else?" he sounded unsure about something.

Remus started to shake his head, but stopped, wincing. "No," he confessed. "I can't. You?"

"No," Sirius said, a little too quickly.

"So."

"So."

"I thought you didn't forget things when you got drunk."

"I drank more than I usually do," Sirius muttered, examining the tiles under his bare feet.

"Oh." Remus thought Sirius looked a little pinker than usual, but ignored it as a figment of his imagination – or his still-aching head. "So how do we…"

"Are you ok?" Sirius suddenly asked, looking up.

Startled, Remus nodded, then winced again. "Well, my head hurts like a bitch, but throwing up helped my –"

"No, I mean," Sirius was definitely going red, "I mean, erm, physically."

"My head –"

"No," Sirius cut him off again. "I mean, you've never, you know, had sex with a guy before, have you?"

"What? No! I've never…" Remus stopped, and swallowed. "Er, I've never had sex with anyone."

"Oh, right. Ok."

Am I just imagining it, or does he look relieved? Remus wondered.

"Well then, um…" Sirius was looking everywhere but at Remus, and not only was his face bright red, but the color was creeping down his neck.

Remus suddenly saw the small discoloring just beneath the dark-haired boy's jaw-line and the memory of putting it there flashed before his eyes – of Sirius offering up his throat to Remus's mouth and the small sounds of pleasure that the grey-eyed boy had emitted as Remus had marked him…

"Areyousore?" Sirius's rapid question broke into Remus's thoughts.

"What?" Remus asked.

"Are you sore?" Sirius repeated, more slowly. "If we… you know… then you'd be a bit…" he trailed off.

"Oh." The bogged-down thought of much earlier made another appearance, struggling out of the mire of Remus's mind to say I told you that you didn't feel like that because you fell off your bed. "Then we… then we…" Oh no, groaned most of Remus's brain. Not good. This is not good. But some little part was jumping around and dancing for joy, which wasn't helping the largest part, which was still hammering away like it was trying to construct a second Great Wall. (5)

"You are?" Sirius was looking at Remus now, and his face, though still red, was flooded with concern. "Is it bad? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Remus shook his head, and flinched. Got to stop doing that. "No, and no," he told the worried-looking boy. "I'm just very hung over." – And suddenly very aware that Sirius had somehow gotten much closer, and they were both dressed only in towels.

Footsteps and voices sounded on the stairs outside their room.

Remus panicked, hangover pains forgotten in his terror. "Oh, shit! James and Peter! I thought they must have gone home already! But it's still too early! They were just downstairs! What do we do?"

"Breathe," Sirius instructed, and suddenly soft-but-slightly-callused hands were gripping Remus's shoulders. "Calm down."

Remus tried. It was hard to focus with Sirius's hands against his skin.

"We don't have to tell them anything, if you don't want."

"But –"

"We were drunk, Rem."

Remus felt his insides melt at the sound of the nickname only Sirius used, and failed to grasp what the other boy was saying.

"It didn't… it didn't mean anything. Ok?" Sirius continued. "We were drunk. We'll just pretend like nothing happened. We'll just forget about it."

But I don't want to forget about it! Remus's mind wailed. I want to remember it! And I can't even do that.

The sound of the dorm door opening reached them.

"You get in the shower," Sirius instructed. "It'll help your hangover. I'll make sure they don't find my clothes in your bed or anything, and then I'll get a quick shower myself. I'll have a hangover potion ready for you when you get out."

Sirius didn't wait for Remus to answer. He left the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and Remus could hear him greeting their two roommates.

Remus turned on one of the showers. He hung his towel on the hook outside the stall, and stepped under the jetting water. The hot spray mixed with the hotter tears that Remus couldn't keep from leaking out of his eyes and sliding down his cheeks.

TBC

(1-2): "Now, just because someone sees, you know, two naked people asleep in bed together, it doesn't necessarily prove sex was involved. It does, however, make for a very strong case." – It's a quote from the movie Velvet Goldmine. It's all said by one person in the film (Mandy, for those of you who know the movie), but I felt it worked better in the fic if it was broken up.

(3): For those of you who don't know, suck-and-blow is a game where a group of people stand in a circle and pass a card or a small piece of paper around – using their mouths. That is, person A will hold the card to his/her mouth by sucking in air, so it's stuck, and then pass it on to person B, who will "kiss" person A with the card separating their lips, and person B sucks in air (and pulls the card to his/her own lips), while person A blows the card away. If either person A or person B fails to suck properly, the card falls and the two people end up kissing. So, unless you consider kissing dirty, it is NOT a dirty game, despite the name. And you can't fool me, looking all innocent! I know what you were thinking! Silly readers with your minds in the gutter.

(4): I hope most of you know how to play spin-the-bottle, but in case you don't, it's a game where a group of people sit in a circle (sounds like a lot of other games, I know), and one person spins a bottle and then has to kiss the person it points to. Then the kissee spins the bottle and the game continues. Rules differ depending on what the players want, but, often, if the same two people kiss a second time, they either have to kiss for a longer period of time, or use tongue, or something to that effect. If they kiss for a third time, they kiss for longer… and so on.

(5): The Great Wall of China, originally built around the second century B.C.E.

A/N: Wow, I wrote long footnotes. Anyway, this was meant to be a oneshot, but, obviously, that's not going to happen. It'll probably only be two parts, though, but I never know which way my muses will jump. What do you think should happen?
The fic itself was inspired by I'm not quite sure what (and mostly written at odd hours late at night… er, early in the morning), by the intro was inspired (and partly based) on the song 'Contact' from the Broadway show Rent (which is now also a movie, in case you didn't know). Anyway, I hope you like what I have so far. Please review, especially if you want it to continue. My 10-review rule applies. Thanks for reading!