Here! A second chapter!

I was planning on doing multiple chapters initially, actually, but then I realized if I actually said I would write more then I would never get it done. The ending is pretty much crap, although Sirius's thoughts are so much fun to write that I don't really care.
Anyway, this is the actual, legitimate end. I gave you guys closure, and a resolution, and all those things you demanded that DESTROYED the original message inherent within the ambiguity of the first part!
No, that's a lie. I actually kind of hate this chapter, but it's the best I could do, so here you are.
Oh, and thank you so much to everyone who reviewed/favorited/etc. I am so completely astonished I can't even tell you.

No, Sirius muses, is perhaps one of the most terrible things ever to exist, and not even because if that is Remus's reply then the whole universe should just give up right there because a Padfoot without a Moony is like peanut butter without jelly, or apples without oranges, or ducks without… duck sauce. Anyway, no is just a generally terrible thing. Its second letter is O, which is just like and in this case means zero, and Sirius is of the opinion that any concept that took the ancients a long time to figure out should be shunned on principle. This is why he avoids not only zero, but also instant coffee and ocean tides. For unrelated reasons, he also dislikes tulle, people named Sharon, and not getting to kiss Remus. Which brings him back to the reason he's having a minor existential breakdown and pondering no: Remus. Remus, who is opening his mouth, which is really quite a lovely one, positively kissable, no matter what Kelsey Macnamara said in third year, and Remus is saying:

"Yes, well, why not, since you asked so nicely I suppose…" but Sirius has long since stopped listening, because the first word of that sentence was yes, and that yes is a revelation, it's a miracle, it's dropping your breakfast toast only to have it fall butter-side-up on a clean plate you placed on the ground earlier, it's opening up your umbrella to find your favorite pair of spectacles you lost last October, it's winning the Quidditch Cup by playing with one hand tied behind your back while on a scooter, it's everything and nothing like anything else, and that is most likely the reason Sirius is snogging Remus with everything he has, and it might even be the reason Remus is snogging Sirius back. For someone who claims to have no romantic experience whatever, Remus is an unnervingly good kisser, and Sirius resolves to have a long and searching discussion about this just as soon as his brain returns from its holiday in Cancún, where it has met with a few other really attractive brains and is positively having the time of its life. Unfortunately this means Sirius is left to run on autopilot, and Sirius on autopilot tends to do stupid things. Stupid things, here, means ceasing to kiss Remus in order to exclaim,

"Well, that was unexpected!"

Remus, meanwhile, blinks at him with a blink that manages to convey both that was the greatest kiss in the universe and what on earth is wrong with you, you daft bugger.

"Why was it unexpected? I assume that being boyfriends does involve kissing somewhere along the line?"

"Well," say Sirius, who is still operating without any filter from his brain, resulting in problems that will become clear in a moment, "I didn't think it would actually work."

"Was that a prank?" Remus says. Remus has suddenly closed off, shut down, his face informing the world that not only is the doctor out but that Lucy has given up the psychiatry business entirely and retired to Ecuador, besides which Peanuts hasn't run for almost ten years. "It's not a very good one. The point is to humiliate me, and initiating a kiss generally makes you appear at least a bit silly, and, er, fairy-ish."

It is at this point that Sirius gives up. His brain, fortunately, has returned, and after shredding up Sirius's plan like so much aggravating confetti, attempts damage control.

"No, of course it's not a prank, you idiot! Would I conjure up forty-nine irises for a prank? Would I brave the wrath of angry paper spleens for a prank? Would I cajole Moaning Myrtle to do my bidding for a prank?"

"… yes," Remus says after a moment, and suddenly that word is a little less miraculous.

"Well, not in this particular instance!" exclaims Sirius, after resolving to work on his rhetorical-question skills. "If this were a prank, I'd have done it in the great hall so that people could laugh at you. It is not my fault that my mental faculties cannot withstand your kisses, nor is it my fault that you have all the self-esteem of a… of some kind of depressed bird! Perhaps a seagull. You, Remus Lupin, are a sad, sad seagull."

Remus attempts to offer something useful to the conversation, but eventually surrenders, saying,

"But I thought I was a wolf."

Sirius waves his arms around psychotically (though since everything Sirius does is psychotic, the modifier is perhaps unnecessary).

"Yes, you are a wolf, and that is why I love you."

"The thing is, Sirius, that that suddenly means something a little different when you've just asked me to go out with you and then sexually assaulted me. Not that I minded, exactly."

Sirius snaps his fingers, chagrined. "And Lily specifically told me not to do that! Goodness, I've really dropped the ball here."

Remus's eye twitches, just a little bit. "And Lily was telling you not to assault me… why?"

"Because she was advising me on how to go about this, of course!" Sirius says brightly. "You don't think I came up with the irises on my own, do you? Blimey, it was as much as I could do to remember what kind of chocolate you like, and you've got stacks of the stuff all over the dorm! In retrospect, I should perhaps have discussed a little more what I was going to say, rather than persuading the house-elves to refer to Lily only as 'Mrs. James Potter.' You live, you learn, I suppose.

"Anyway, I remembered you like Emily Dickinson, so that's something!" Sirius holds up the book for Remus, who takes it gingerly, as though he expects it to bite him (which is positively ridiculous. Sirius hasn't accidentally created a Bitey Thing in almost two weeks, not since the crocodile in the marmalade). Sirius is engrossed in the way Remus's expression shifts as he reads, dancing over sadness and love and… blue, how his eyes crinkle at the corners and his eyebrows arch up in the middle and a tiny smile on the right side of his mouth hints at a tinier dimple just under his right eye like the exact opposite of a slightly bendy cheese stick, and so Sirius is completely unprepared for what happens next.

He's so unprepared, in fact, that he can feel his brain attempt to deal with the shock and give up, followed by his heart, which is so confused by the suddenness that it attempts to pump blood backwards, thus causing Sirius to flail about even more frantically than usual in what is actually a pretty fair impression of a cancan performed by octopi, all in the space of the few seconds it takes for Remus to shriek:

"Sirius! This book is filled with kidneys!"