a/n: oh my lords it's been ages, hello! this plot has been running through my head for way too long so here you go :D i wanted it to be more light-hearted but i guess i'm just not that kind of person lmao-

warning: ssssssmut? sort of? it's very (too) abstract?

***

Wiping his (now mostly dry) eyes, Sirius sighed dramatically and fell backwards onto Remus' bed, balancing his... third (fourth?) mug (mug, because the glasses were dirty) of beer on his stomach.

"I don't understand!" he cried petulantly, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

"What don't you understand?" Remus was perched on a chair by the bed, his own (definitely fourth) mug of beer in his hand.

"What he meant. Why he said it."

"More specificits- specifit- specificiticy- be more specific, please."

"I understand that he broke up with me. I think I see why, though he explained it badly," Sirius said, adding in a mumble to himself, "and it didn't make sense, because of course I only liked him, what the fuck?"

"What do you mean?"

Alright, in a mumble to himself and to Remus, the nosey bastard. "I mean, he said I liked someone else, and I didn't even know it, and that's ridiculous, isn't it? Because I'd know if I liked someone!"

"Sure."

"But, like, then he said - get this, he said - " Sirius sat up, and the mug spilled onto his knees and the unfortunate bed. "Oh, whoops, sorry - "

"Don't fret over it, carry on."

Sirius made a face at the word 'fret', and Remus stuck his tongue out at him. "He said that I'm - " a deep breath, "not good at sex."

Remus sprayed beer everywhere (including Sirius' poor lovely hair) and stared open-mouthed at his friend. "He said what?"

"I know! Can you believe it? I told him he was just telling me that to make me upset, but he just put down the fucking phone!"

A heavy sigh. Remus rolled his eyes, clearly fuming. "So he breaks up with you on the phone, accuses you of, what, emotional infidelity? And then hits you where it hurts the most." He downed the rest of his beer and placed the mug on his bedside table. "What an absolute fucking arse."

"Exactly! I didn't deserve this." Sirius flopped back again, his mug discarded on the bedcovers, dribbling darkly onto the pale cotton. "I wish I'd never met the bastard."

Remus got up, gently picking up Sirius' mug and placing it beside his own. Then he sat down the bed, by Sirius' head, stroking his slightly-damp hair and humming thoughtfully. "You're better off without him."

"Yes."

Tears were starting to form again, so Remus brushed a careful thumb under those grey eyes, catching them before they fell. He inspected them where they lay nestled against his skin, faintly shining under the dim light coming off the street outside his window. Below him, Sirius' face was streaked with dark mascara, lining his skin as if they were branches that had fallen from some great tree and crumbled onto the wide pale expanse of his cheeks, the purpling thinness of the circles around his eyes.

"I don't understand," he said again, so quiet that Remus had to lean in closer to catch his trembling words.

"What don't you understand?"

"How could I be bad at sex? It's all I'm good at, nothing else, just that."

"That isn't true, Sirius," Remus replied softly, gazing down at that beautiful aching face. "You're good at plenty of things."

"Especially sex, but apparently not."

"He just didn't work out, if the sex wasn't good for him then it was probably because you two didn't click, that's all."

"Could you prove that?"

"Well, if the sounds coming from your bedroom on a day-to-day basis are any indication, then yes, I could prove that."

"No, Remus, I mean, prove it."

"How?"

"For me, Remus, please."

"But how?" Remus felt his heart still at the openness of the look Sirius suddenly sent up at him.

"Just... I want to know I'm still as good as I've ever been."

"You're drunk."

"We're equally drunk."

"You'll regret it in the morning."

"I'd regret it if I never asked, not even once."

Remus took a deep, slow breath. "Sirius... you don't really want me to fuck you just so you can find out whether you're actually good at sex or not, right?"

"Yes, I do."

"You're joking." Sirius kept gazing at him. "You're not fucking joking."

"You could say I'm... Sirius."

"Lord have mercy - "

"Please, Remus. If you want to, that is, and you're not just saying no because you think I don't want to, because I do, I promise."

Remus looked away, wrestling with himself. Then he sighed, and looked back down, eyes wary, heated.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Remus, I wouldn't have asked otherwise."

"Fine." He took another breath. "Fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, fuck, Sirius, I don't think I've ever wanted anything more, so yes, I'm sure too."

With that, Remus shifted on the bed until he was positioned in a way that meant he could quite easily lean down so that his lips would meet Sirius'. The small man beneath him puckered his mouth, and Remus slowly leant in, closer and closer - then kissed his nose.

Sirius opened his mouth, raring up to spout some shit about how Remus was being totally unfair and was a real prick, but then Remus pressed his hand against Sirius' cheek, and any indignant words were lost as grey eyes met amber in a look that stilled and raced and scarred them both to the bone.

They were barely a breath apart from each other. Sirius was certain that even the nail on his pinkie finger wouldn't fit into the overwhelming, intangible, unreachable distance between them. He was shaking, he realised suddenly. Shaking like a leaf.

"Are you sure, Sirius?" Remus' voice was like the sound of a shell pressed against Sirius's ear. "Are you really sure?"

"Please... I don't think I can bear this any longer."

Those amber eyes narrowed and turned dark, warm. "Then don't."

When their lips touched, it was like the slotting of the last jigsaw puzzle, or the final stroke of paint on a canvas, or the full-stop at the end of a book.

Sirius couldn't breathe and never wanted to. Their mouths moulded together like soft clay, smooth and moveable, moving together. He couldn't breathe, and instead opened his trembling mouth to allow Remus' slow, sweeping tongue to trace his teeth and roll over his own tongue, searching every crevice it could reach, pulling soft sounds from Sirius' throat up to the surface so that Remus could swallow them and keep them secret inside him forever.

Their hands searched, too, moving over skin, travelling over every crater and bump with careful thoroughness. Remus let his hands move down (with his mouth following), pressing open knees and pushing legs and pulling away fabric and feeling heat, just bleary, soft heat, Sirius falling to pieces with each shift, each kiss, each stroke.

Their eyes met, again and again, for endless breathless moments, in hazy, blurry focus, just tiny pinpricks of light in the rushing waves of a sea churned by a storm, tearing water with clouded hands and straining love. They moved like the rocking ocean, together, apart, together, gasping like a raging wind, minds fogged and centred.

The night passed in much the same manner.

***

When they awoke the next morning, it was to Remus pressed against Sirius' naked back, arms so firm and warm around him that Sirius never wanted to move.

"Hello..." Remus murmured sleepily into Sirius ear, placing a soft kiss behind it that sent a tremor down Sirius' spine.

Sirius swallowed. "Morning," he whispered shyly, pushing impossibly closer.

"I have a verdict."

"Oh?"

"Your ex was wrong. You are not bad at sex."

Sirius grinned to himself. "You really mean it?"

"I do," Remus said firmly.

"Well, the same can be said for you."

"Cheers."

He opened his eyes, then shut them just as quickly as a pain lurched through his head. "I've a headache."

"So do I."

"Anyway," Sirius mumbled, burrowing under the blanket, "I have a verdict too."

"Oh?"

"Yes." Sirius swallowed again, his throat dry. "My ex was right."

"In what way?"

"I do like someone. A lot. I just... didn't realise."

"Is that so?" There was a smile in Remus' voice. "And who might this person be?"

"You'll never fucking guess..."