Would you believe in love at sight? Yes, I'm certain it happens all the time.

If anyone ever bothered to ask how Sirius Black came to know how he fell in love with Remus Lupin, which for better or worse never happened, no one would get the same answer.

"Love at first sight." He would claim outrageously, batting his lashes exaggeratedly at Remus, who would flush and roll his eyes, calling him a sodding liar but allow him to continue anyway. "Even he was all elbows and gangly limbs and wide eyed confusion dressed in those thatched robes, I knew he was the one for me. I even told him as much, don't let him tell you otherwise. When I said, 'You fucking bastard, you dropped your trunk on me toe!' what I really meant was, 'I love you, let's shag'. It only took him about eight years to understand it."

Or, if he was feeling particularly theatrical, he'd grin, toss his glossy black hair out of his eyes and sling his arm around Remus' shoulders, a move so natural it seemed as if he was born to touch the usually reticent and reserved man beside him, the two of them fitting like puzzle pieces whose contrasts complimented instead of jarred. "I remember the day clearly. It was summer, one of the rare days that neither of us had to work. There'd been this training day so I hadn't gotten back until five in the morning, but when I did wake up sometime in the afternoon I smelled bacon and eggs and sausage and toast and coffee and al sorts of favorite breakfasty goodness. I was so dead tired that I couldn't have moved a pinkie to save my own life. But then Remus floated in like some heaven sent angel carrying a tray laden with food so perfectly arranged that I felt bad knowing I had to eat it. And he just sat next to me while I ate and told me about the news because I liked to pretend that I was smart and kept up on current events those days, and I went to pick up my favorite coffee mug ('I can't even think straight!' in big bold letters), and Remus was just going to rest his hand next to it and our fingertips brushed. Most erotically intimate and hear stopping moment of my entire life."

Of course the entire time, Remus would be squirming in his seat, trying to look displeased by the praise, but Sirius would merely catch his golden amber bejeweled gaze that shone and sparkled like the sun in the cloudy gray of his eyes, all theatrics bleeding away, the next words for his audience or for Remus, voice soft and solemn enough to charm an angel. "And then it occurred to me everything that Remus did for me, without having to be asked or ever feeling like he needed to. He did it because he cared about me, because he wanted me to be happy, even if I didn't know that having a clean house and someone to come home to every day was what I really needed. That there was nothing more out of life that I needed than to have him with me always, whether it was so we could watch some overrated movie or to have someone else to sing along to the radio with, or even to have someone wrestle me to the floor when I was being too cheeky. Don't blush Remus Lupin, I know you liked to wrestle me just to cop a feel." He'd laugh, while Remus muttered in mock annoyance about how annoying Sirius was, before succepting to Sirius' fingers entwined in his hair and leaning his head against his lover's shoulder. "It was in that one instant when our fingers brushed that I knew it was love then, and not just really fantastic bacon and coffee."

Or, if his audience was someone he felt that he had to shock or gross out, he'd press up behind his lover, one hand sliding up his shirt despite Remus adamant protests, pressing hot searing kisses up and down his throat, nipping at his ear, and grinding their bodies roughly together until the sounds Remus was making weren't disapproval.

"To tell you the truth," Sirius would begin, voice low and husky in his throat lips still pressed against Remus' supple throat, "it was lust at first fuck. It was dusk, and we were settling down for the night when it occurred to me how utterly stupid it was that we both lay cold and alone in separate beds when there were much more… enjoyable ways to spend the night." He'd let his hand drift down lower, fingernails trialing possessively over the flesh it found, lips never once leaving his lover's neck. "So when he told me good night, I pushed him up against a wall and kissed him hard enough to mark him as mine. Don't let him fool you though. He never goes quietly into anything." He'd smirk, grey eyes storming with lust and need as he'd press tighter against Remus, as if through will power alone would meld their bodies together in a delicious friction. Voice growing lower and lower as if to mimic the hand that was now nearing the waistband of Remus' pants, quirking his eyebrows suggestively even as Remus growled either a warning or because he was just as wanting, Sirius would continue. "I'll always remember that night. When everything was done at least nine times, the moonlight streaming across him, bathing him in ethereal hues… Well, daylight is a lot less magical than moonlight, I think, but somehow Remus managed to make that breath taking."

But the truth is something that he'd never tell over dinner parties and cocktails to a curious audience who don't care how they fell in love and only want to know to satisfy their own morbid curiosity or to add more fodder to their gossip cannons that they call mouths. When he fell for Remus is a moment only for them, and he is possessive enough that he won't share it with anyone that Remus doesn't want him to, which is why perhaps, if they were asked (which they won't because no one needs to know), Remus would let him come up with fanciful stories. And really, Sirius knows as well as Remus that he's insatiable, both for Sirius' body and the romance that he spins for him.

"They do sound nice don't they?" Remus asks one evening, their hands held up to the light, Sirius' darker, fingers curling over Remus' bone tired ones, their veins entwining beneath the soft glow of the light bulb. Their breathing is synchronized, their heads nestled against one another, the hands not held up to the light a mere hairsbreadth apart, but even with that distance Sirius feels closer to him than anyone else he's had in his entire life. "The stories I mean. You always make them sound so glamorous. Or like we were meant to be. Except that last one. Which I do not approve of." Remus says with mock sternness that Sirius knows will end in the sorts of beat downs that he enjoys, so he just smirks and presses a kiss to the top of his head, fingers enclosing around Remus' hand that is held up to the light, as if to capture its warmth and brilliance. They face each other linked both with their fingers and their gazes, Remus' eyes brilliant as the glow of amber held up to the light. "When did you fall in love with me?"

To which Sirius can only tell the solemn truth, even if his lips quirk despite himself. "As if you don't know."

"I'd much rather hear you say it." Remus admits, and they curl closer, and unfolding his heart like locust petals or shifting clouds, the theatrics making way respectfully for the heartfelt words he chooses as carefully as diamonds.

Once, he says softly because the wound is still near and dear to his heart, you almost left me after telling me that you loved me. I thought that I should let you go, because that was what would make you happy, so I let you pack your bags even though with each small pile of disappearing books and clothes and knickknacks that disappeared into your worn briefcase felt as if pieces of my heart were being taken from me too. It felt that the apartment listings you circled were drawn in red with my own blood, sheered like a blinding light behind my eyes so every time I lay down I could only toss and turn and think of you leaving me. No more breakfasts that weren't soggy cereal. No more movie nights with popcorn and a terrible movie but hilarious commentary. No more having someone to come home to. No more conversations about the genius of messiness or pros of having a drag queen as one of your best friends. No more having the scent of apples and forest and books in the flat. No more pranks that I could pull on you. No more having to call the firemen or the police over. But mostly I was afraid of losing you. I don't ever…

And it's only when Remus curls up tighter against him, their faces only inches apart, golden eyes brilliant, that he can continue.

And when the flat was empty and all there was left was you, I had to act. I couldn't let you go. Even if it was selfish and horrible and too late I wanted you to know that living without your smiles and your laughter and even your physical abuse would be worthless. What would be there to fight for? So I stopped you right before you walked out of the flat and out of my life until only Merlin knows when and grabbed your wrist. It only occurred to me how frail you were, not delicate, but that life had done so much fucked up shit to you and that you didn't deserve this from me, I've done more than my fair share, but if I could only just…

"Don't leave me Moony." He said, the words softer than the rest, his eyes searching the expressive orbs before him, bare as his heart, both remembering. "Please." And then he kissed him. Despite whatever Sirius will say to anyone who asks, it's not when Sirius kisses Remus that he falls in love. It's when Remus kisses him back that he believes in love.

Author's Notes: LOL Tis two in the morning. Enjoy the cracktastic angst/fluff/WTF is this SHITE? Trollop. I blame you Jesska. You and your angsty Remus sexy goodness. I hope you're happy. And that this makes coherent sense. Somewhat. Wavelength me baby. Also, if you want more, check out my LJ. It's under the website link. Peace!