It's a warm, lazy type of summer afternoon, the kind that seems to stretch on for hours and hours, and Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are upstairs in Sirius' house, hiding from his mum. Mrs. Black means well, really, but she's, well, a bit scary. Lily has often asked Sirius if he's sure her maiden name isn't Havisham, a joke that only she and Sirius get. Mostly it's be thick cloud of gardenia-scented perfume that bothers Remus, werewolf senses being what they are. She's really a nice woman, and much more accepting of certain things than his own parents. The conversation in which Mr. and Mrs. Lupin found out that their son was dating his best friend had been full of accusations and dirty looks, and had ended with Remus and Sirius walking out.

Mrs. Black had suspected for a while that Sirius and Remus would end up together, and while she can never remember Remus' name ("Oh, Reginald, dear, be a lamb and open this for me, won't you?"), there has never been any doubt that she likes him. One year Sirius even told her about Remus' wolf, and Remus, who had been rather angry with Sirius for doing so, had been astonished when, the next time he came over, he'd found every single piece of silver in the house removed. Just to avoid any possible accidents.

So when they told her they were in love, she took it very well indeed. Perhaps a little too well for Remus' preternatural olfactory senses, as she enveloped him in a hug that left him reeking of flowers for a week, to his nose anyway, but it was a better reaction than they'd expected.

That had been the night before, and now they are upstairs in her house, hiding. From her and her gardening circle. Olivia Black is a Muggle. Her husband, Sirius' father, was a Squib, who died of a heart attack in their sixth year. Sirius' paternal grandparents had been a Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor, powerfully magical, but they had loved their son deeply, and when he married a Muggle, they quietly resigned themselves without a word of complaint to having a non-magical grandson.

If it hadn't been for James Potter's parents, there was really no telling how Sirius might have turned out. When Laurence and Olivia Black went off to some exotic clime, leaving young Sirius in the hands of the help, Gatlin and Davida Potter would see to it that he and James spent the majority of their days together. Gatlin taught them to play Gobstones and Exploding Snap and Davida taught them chess, and as both boys were quite intelligent, they picked it up rather quickly.

And that wasn't the only thing they had picked up, their parents realized as one afternoon when the boys were four years old and Gatlin and Davida caught them zigging around their backyard on their brooms, real adult brooms that would not, under any circumstances, reply to a non-magical person's demands.

Laurence and Olivia were happy, for Sirius' sake, but rather bewildered at the notion of raising a magical child. So they would continue to go visit exotic locales, leaving Sirius with the Potters, who were more than happy to have him, and James, who was without a doubt Sirius' best friend. Throughout his entire life, Sirius has seen the Potters more than his own parents.

After Sirius' father died, Olivia Black came home to the family estate and settled down. She rarely leaves these days, and loves to have guests, huge, massive parties (such as the one for Sirius' 16th birthday, that lasted an entire week) or quiet get-togethers with her friends, such as the gardening circle she's entertaining today.

Remus and Sirius are hiding for three reasons. Firstly, the combined cloud of their perfume, while handy for killing off any insects that might happen to enter the area, is driving poor Remus up the wall. Secondly, if they were to venture down into the area they would be subject to a rather intense round of cheek-pinching, and many of those females are wearing silver rings. And thirdly, as long as they're not down there to talk to, the women will listen to the radio. And Sirius, for all his bad-boy image, adores Muggle music. Today it's French CDs, and as the opening strains of "La Vie en Rose" fill the air, Sirius turns to Remus with an uncharacteristically, er, serious expression. "Dance with me?" he says quietly, holding his hand out in front of his lover.

Remus smiles. "Always," he says softly, accepting the hand and standing up, wrapping his arms around Sirius' neck. Sirius' hands drop to Remus' hips and they sway together. Time passes, the music fades, one song giving way to another and still Remus and Sirius move together, until the afternoon becomes the evening and the dance becomes more sensual, the press of flesh against flesh, hands roving to expose skin. Kisses are exchanged, hot and sweet, and tongues curl into one another and slide away in a strange dance of their own.
Sirius' hands eventually come back to Remus' hips, holding his lover against him as he rolls in time to the music. Remus gives a little sigh and tilts his head back slightly, winding pale fingers into dark hair as Sirius' mouth fastens on the skin above his carotid artery, marking him.

Another slow eternity passes just like that, and then Sirius looks up from Remus' throat and kisses up to his ear, licking the rim with his tongue. Remus shivers delicately and gasps at the sensation, and Sirius chuckles, expelling warm air onto even warmer skin.

Remus' wolf is dormant, and so he's content to be seduced, not fighting as Sirius begins to herd him with gently insistent hip-rolls back to the bed. When they get there, Sirius strips him down with his hands, while continuing to suck lightly on his earlobe. When Remus is naked, Sirius pushes him lightly into the bed, following him a moment later and straddling his hips.

"Beautiful," Sirius says quietly, staring at Remus intently. "My beautiful boy." He leans over and traces one of Remus' nipples with his tongue, then clamps down on it with his teeth and begins to suck.

Remus gasps and arches up, into Sirius, their hips grinding lightly together. "Oh," he says, and clutches the bedcovers, pupils dialted, eyes wide. "Sirius."
Sirius says nothing for the next fifteen minutes, all of which, incredibly enough, are spent on that. One. Nipple. And Remus is going mad, and then Sirius releases it with a lick, blows on it just to make Remus twitch underneath him, and moves on, mouthing Remus' chest down to his belly, and spending the next ten minutes tongue-fucking his belly button. Both young men are fully hard now, already leaking somewhat, and Sirius' bedroom is heavy with the scent of their combined arousal.

Downstairs, the radio plays on.

When Sirius finally takes his mouth away from Remus' navel, both boys are panting, their hips twitching, mad with love and desire for one another. There is nothing Sirius wants more than to spread Remus wide and take him, make love to him, fell him clench and squirm around his cock, hear him cry out Sirius' name in broken, sobbing tones. And there's nothing Remus wants more than to let him.

So Sirius, being Sirius, moves on, biting lightly into the final rise in Remus' stomach and then pausing, nuzzling the hairs over his cock lightly. Remus continues to clutch the sheets, gritting his teeth together to keep from reaching out to Sirius, from grabbing him and impaling himself on his beautiful cock, feeling Sirius deep, deep inside him. Remus moans softly and his hips twitch again, and then his moan becomes a gasp as Sirius licks his balls, and takes them into his mouth.

Sirius spends a full twenty minutes licking and sucking on Remus' balls, his cheek brushing his lover's cock as he rolls his tongue around in his mouth. Remus is leaking in a steady stream now and Sirius is going slowly mad, lost in a world of scent and sensation. and then finally, finally he moves again, licking Remus' cock clean of its juices. He looks up at Remus, pale eyes smoldering, and buries his face in the skin under Remus' erection, his nose pressing lightly into Remus' prostate while his tongue slides inside Remus' body.

Remus whimpers softly and arches even further, wanting to capture as much of that sinful mouth as he can, that tongue doing such sweet, carnal things, that feeling that means soon Sirius will be inside him and everything will be right. Sirius' tongue grazes the inside of his prostate while his nose presses into it from the out and Remus nearly shoots off the bed, his grip on the sheets causing them to tear slightly.

And then. Then Sirius' mouth is gone, and for a long, painful moment, there's no contact between them. Remus whimpers, feeling bereft even for the short span of time it takes for Sirius to take off his clothes. And then he's there again, strong arms lifting Remus, pulling him back up off the bed, and Remus wraps his arms around Sirius' neck and his legs around his waist as Sirius leans him up against the wall and slides into him, joining their bodies at the same time that he seals Remus' mouth with his own.

And they're moving together again. Swaying. Dancing. A dance older than either of them, older than living memory, a dance of love, of sex, of eternal friendship, Sirius' hips rolling into Remus, Remus clinging to Sirius like he never wants to let go. And while the sensuous strains of Edith Piaf echo through the house, while Olivia Black, having no idea what her son is doing upstairs, plays bridge with her friends and talks about what a well-mannered young man that young Mr. Lupin is, Remus and Sirius continue to dance the dance, as nobody has ever danced it before.

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