Oh my god, what is this? An update?

So in the previous chapter, I said that I am unpredictable with updates and it could be a week or five months. Well, two years later, here is chapter 2.

A loud clatter, muffled by the closed door, woke Remus. He was lying on his side, still in yesterday's clothing and reeked of stale alcohol. A thin layer of cool sweat stuck uncomfortably on his forehead.

He opened his eyes.

"Fuuuck."

The dark room, ironically enough, seemed to blind him, so he closed his eyes and wished for non-existence to engulf him. The world obviously did not grant him this one simple wish and made it very clear that he was conscious and miserable.

Somehow, he managed to swing his feet over the side of the bed and steady himself against the wall as he stood up. What must been the world's worst head rush overwhelmed every fiber of his being and he vowed never to drink again.

One step at a time, much like a baby learning how to walk, he reached the door. Several terrible things happened all at once. One, he opened the door and the sunlight shining through Sirius' large picture windows seemed to attack Remus much like when Hitler invaded Poland (not pleasantly).

Secondly, the smell of whatever Sirius was cooking seemed to make Remus very nauseous.

And lastly, Sirius, spotting Remus half dead in the door way, dropped his spatula on the floor and yelled, "You're up!"

All of these combined was far too much for Remus' delicate state, so he groaned, put his hands over his head, doubled over and fell to the floor.

Finally, when he deemed it safe to uncurl himself, he did so and found Sirius standing over him. "What am I doing at your place?" he managed to croak out.

Remus thought he caught Sirius' smile falter, but when he looked again, it was back in place.

"You don't remember?"

Remus shook his head, which caused his headache to increase drastically.

"You must have been really plastered."

"Rub it in, will you?"

Sirius pulled him to his feet and led him over to the kitchen, where Remus leaned against the cabinet as though it was his life line. He accepted the glass of water Sirius handed him and drank it as though it was a life line. It made him feel only a fraction better. Fucking useless water.

Remus sniffed and stared pointedly at the scrambled eggs sizzling happily in the pan. "You didn't have to make that for me. I don't think I'll be able to eat anything."

"It's not for you," Sirius said. "This is for you." He grabbed a bottle from under the counter and uncorked it. It smelled like rotten meat and oozed brown steam.

"What the hell is that?" Remus crinkled his nose at the stench.

"It's your breakfast. Hangover prevention potion. Works wonders," he said, though he held the bottle as far away as possible from his nose.

"So what happened last night?" Remus asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer. For all he knew he could have tried to coax a llama to sleep with him.

"Well, you kind of drank a lot."

"Really, I hadn't noticed? Apart from that I mean."

"Ah." Sirius hesitated. "I found you outside looking at your hands and I brought you here after you passed out.

"And that's all that happened?" Remus frowned. "That's not very exciting."

"For you that is exciting." He hesitated again, then said, "If you were wondering if someone offered to sleep with you, then the answer is no. Sorry," he added.

Remus would have been questioning why Sirius was hesitating more than someone deciding to voluntarily cut off their own arm had his head not been about explode. Or implode. Either one was possible and quite probable at the moment.

He looked down at his feet. "I should have expected as much."

"Do you really want your first time to be with a random girl that you met while drunk and probably won't remember what she looks like the next morning."

"I'm just getting a bit tired of waiting." Remus sat down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen. "Are you sure this is safe to drink? I'm pretty sure if Snape took liquid form, this is what he would look like." He sniffed it and made a face, then added, "And smell like."

Sirius poured the potion into a glass – far too much in Remus' opinion. "Drink," he said.

Remus pinched his nose and downed the potion in one gulp and then gagged. "That is possibly the most revolting thing I've ever tasted." Though as he said it, his head stopped hurting as much and the light did not seem as evil and unforgiving.

"Stop looking and someone will come along," Sirius said after Remus stopped threatening to vomit.

"That's easy for you to say. You did it for the first time in sixth year and now you have girls lining up for miles to have a go with you."

Sirius started to say something but Remus cut him off. "It doesn't matter. I have to go to work soon." He turned his attention to the morning paper on the table.

Sirius sat down next to him. After a few moments, Remus noticed that Sirius was making strange noises. A few moments after that, Remus realized that Sirius was sniffing him.

Before Remus could ask the meaning behind his friend's strange behaviour, Sirius said, "You smell like alcohol. I'll get you some clean clothes."

Remus changed into Sirius' clothes and swore loudly when he looked at the clock. "I have to go," he said as he rushed to the front door where Sirius was standing.

He turned to face Sirius and grabbed hold of his elbow. He hesitated for a second. Why did touching Sirius' elbow seem so familiar? He closed his eyes, willing himself to remember but his memories came up blank.

Sirius was standing still – too still – and he seemed to be holding his breath. What the hell did he do last night?

Oh Merlin, he must really have tried to sleep with a llama.

"Thanks for – everything," Remus said at last and left before Sirius could reply.

Sirius stood, staring at the closed door. Things were about to get complicated.

Don't count on a quick update because apparently I am unreliable as it took two years for me to write this. I suggest adding it to your alert list so just when you forget about this fic, I'll update it and you'll get a nice little reminder in your inbox.

Llamas are awesome, aren't they? My boyfriend got me a stuffed llama because I seem to be obsessed with them and shriek with joy every time I see one. I called him Floyd the Llama.

Don't forget, reviews are what makes cute fluffy kittens all cute and fluffy!