Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling.

"Gabriel" belongs to Najoua Belyzel.

Author's Note: Love, love. PG-13.

Est-tu fait pour lui; est-tu fait pour moi?
Je n'attend qu'un signe de toi.
Si tu as le mal de lui, j'ai le mal de toi!
Dis-moi!

Are you made for him; are you made for me?
I expected a sign from you.
If you possess his evil, then I'm wrong about you!
So, tell me!

James had gone on his date, and Remus insisted Sirius study with him.

After some evil looks, Sirius obliged and grabbed a textbook.

"All right, History of Magic. Are you ready?"

Remus smiled and nodded.

Sirius flipped open the book.

"Blah… Blah. Boring shit, boring shit…"

He flipped the page.

"More boring shit! Blah, blah, blah. Someone died a thousand years ago. Blah, blah, blah. O.K."

He shut the book and stared at Remus, who was frowning.

"Pad!"

"No way. You're much cooler."

"Nance."

"Guido."

"…Eh," Remus put on a New-York-Italian accent, "'my father always said, keep your friends close," he leaned into Sirius, "but your enemies closer.'"

"…the hell?"

"Haha! Never mind."

Sirius looked very confused.

"It's from a movie!" Remus laughed.

"Ugh, I hate Muggle references! Damn you."

"Fuck me." Wink, wink.

"Well," Sirius glanced casually at his own nails, "that was the general plan for tonight…"

Remus shoved him.

"Don't you dare!"

"Moony." Sirius sighed and spoke as though he were addressing a child. "Though I love you, I have no interest in anything that involves your arse."

"'S right."

"Yeah…"

They lay on their backs, heads resting together.

"How are you feeling?"

"All right."

Sirius turned and breathed in Remus' musky scent.

"Swear?" he said.

"Swear."

"O.K."

"Are you all right?"

"What do you think?"

"Please…" Remus sighed and reached up to pull a strand of black hair away from Sirius' face. "Be honest."

"You keep saying that! I am."

"Sh, Padfoot, I'm just making sure. I don't want you to pity me."

"You think I pity you?" Sirius sat up and glared down at Remus. "Fucked up, Remus. Who do you think I am?"

"All right, you're right." Remus closed his eyes. "I'm just paranoid."

That calmed Sirius down somewhat.

"Moony, c'mon!" He laid back down next to him. "Haven't I shown you I care?"

"Yes; but, we're toying around with fire. I've…" Remus paused and took a deep breath. "I've never been so close with anyone, not counting my parents-- and they accept me unconditionally. Padfoot, I--" he buried his face in Sirius' hair, "--I almost killed you last night. The beast inside doesn't want friends and lovers; it wants to survive! And it can't if I allow my humanity to take over; it can't if I learn to love. It hates you."

"No, no. It doesn't." Sirius' eyes looked tenderly into Remus'. "He's a part of you; and I believe you love me, that all of you loves me." He kissed his cheek. "He's just freaked out by it."

"Huh. I'm glad you know my beast better than I do."

"I'm an outsider looking in. He is you, Moony. He's like your angry little ego-- your instinct, concentrated and wild. Your fears are all his."

"I don't think he's afraid of killing his best mate. He was all ready to do it last night!"

"Ah, that's because you're so focused on trying to avoid it. It's all the wolf can think about, because it's like a challenge against human-Moony."

Sirius watched Remus' expression change; the boy was getting it. It was like several lights were turning on in his brain.

"How'd you learn that?"

Sirius smiled and turned so that he was leaning down over Remus. The amber-eyed boy gazed sleepily up at him, eyes tinted faintly with light and curiosity.

"I'm going to tell you a bedtime story I learned from when I was a boy," Sirius whispered, running two gentle fingers along Remus' lips. Remus kissed them. "And then," he leaned down and brushed a kiss on his lips, "I'll turn off the lights. And then," they kissed again, and Remus was all smiles, "and then…" Another kiss, or three or four.

"And then?" Remus whispered.

"And then I try and think what's a nice, mushy thing to say right now!"

The boys laughed.

"So, what are you waiting for?"

"All right." Sirius nipped at Remus' throat gently. "One night, a Cherokee-- that's a 'Native American' tribe…"

"Sirius, I know what a Cherokee is."

"All right, just making sure! Anyway, a Cherokee adolescent boy asked his old, wise grandfather about the two voices in his head.

'Grandfather, grandfather, I often feel like I'm being torn apart in my mind! One side of me wants to do one thing, or say one thing, and another side wants me to do the opposite!'

The grandfather then replied, in his old, wise voice," Sirius cleared his throat, "--get ready for this, Moony, it's good! He said:

'Well, well, my boy,'" Sirius made his voice low, "'tell me which of the voices sounds better!'

'That's the whole thing, grandfather!' said the boy. 'They both make sense to me. I don't know which one to listen to.'

The grandfather thought for a minute and finally told the boy something that made him gasp.

'The wolves are out tonight. They're hungry.' Want to provide sound-effects, baby?"

"Aaaaaaauuuuuuu!" Remus howled softly.

Sirius kissed him.

"Perfect. So, anyway, the boy became frightened and huddled closer to the fire, and closer to his grandfather.

But, his grandfather said, 'You should not be frightened of the wolves that roam the land; they are part of nature. Be more frightened of those two wolves which fight each other inside your mind.'

So, the boy listened.

'Those desires you feel are your two wolves. One is evil: it thrives on malice and contempt, on jealousy and anger, on selfishness and greed. It knows only fear and doubt; it is inferiority and guilt and self-pity. The other is good: it thrives on kindness and compassion, knows joy and generosity, respect and love. It is hope and faith and all-giving truth...'"

Sirius was stroking Remus' cheek. Remus could hardly breathe.

"…who wins?" he asked.

"That's exactly what the boy asked," Sirius whispered. "And the grandfather said,"

Sirius and Remus said it at the same time, because they both knew it in their hearts:

"'The one you feed.'"

"Yeah…" Sirius smiled gently. "Yeah, sweetheart. Ha! Got you again."

Remus punched him softly. His eyes were too emotional, though, and he found himself gathering Sirius into his arms. Sirius went willingly, still gazing softly down at him.

"Yeah…" Remus closed the little space between them and kissed Sirius. It lasted longer than he anticipated. "That was a very nice story."

"I've got a line for you, Moony: you just gave me the idea."

Remus laughed softly.

"OK, go for it."

Sirius cleared his throat.

"'That may have been a nice story, but ours is so much better.' Ooohh!"

"Arrrrgghhh!" Remus gagged dramatically and Sirius laughed.

…and the lights dimmed down.

They lay for several moments, breathing each other in, Remus gently fingering Sirius' spine till his body was practically fused into his.

Sirius rose and shifted himself slightly against the body beneath him, straddling his hips. Remus stroked his fingers.

"Come," Sirius breathed. He beckoned. Remus rose and wrapped his arms around his waist. He played with the hem of Sirius' shirt.

Sirius settled himself in Remus' lap, ran his hands along his neck to the back of his head and brought their faces close. They breathed, inhaling each other's breath so like that night a month ago… the first time they'd tried this complex, dangerous, thrilling thing.

"Remus," Sirius sighed in longing, "which one do you choose?"

Remus ground his hips up ever so slightly and smiled at Sirius' sharp breath.

Then Sirius gave him a look, and Remus suddenly felt disarmed, exposed; it threw a thrill right into his eyes, through his heart and spiraling down to the tight bundle of nerves between his legs. He was suddenly alive, and Sirius was sitting, young and beautiful, on his lap.

Oh, shit.

"Huh?" Sirius softly kissed his jaw.

He then knew Sirius would love him, and he knew it would be wet, and aching and they'd probably howl and yelp and whisper, calling themselves princes, moaning nonsense English and Latin and Italian and SiriusRemusLanguage as they rode each other in the dark… and maybe they would end up doing that thing because of how they felt and all the pain and splintering pleasure and oh, Sirius, I'm so scared.

Hold me!

"I'll show you," Remus was letting Sirius devour his neck, in full sweetness, "baby. Baby, let me kiss you."

Sirius let him.

And the kiss was the sweetest poison both could ever imagine brewing in Slughorn's stupid class.

"I'll show you… oh," he licked Sirius' lips because the boy had just touched him there, and it was home. Sirius' gaze was questioning, 'Is this all right?' and his eyes were filled with more passion than any virgin bride's. Remus loved him ardently all of a sudden. There was God and magic, he realized.

"Take this shit off us, Sirius."

And they tore off each other's clothing. Ever play those games with your older brother, where you want to be the first to do something cool for a change, and then he lets you win and you're angry and happy? -- that's how they did it. Then they stared unabashedly at each other.

Sirius, gaze never faltering and breath coming laboriously, fumbled with the nightstand and finally found his wand. He could barely grip it; he was trembling and raking eyes over Remus.

He cast a silencing spell, voice hoarse and husky.

Remus lunged himself into Sirius' arms.

"Yeah..." They kissed, deeply; their became completely aligned with one another's, their desires lined right up against each other.

Then they crashed, hard like metal and soft like angel feathers, and told their story.

It was a really good story. It was long too, seeming eternity, with long, magic pauses when the world just sunk in. It was confusing, with periods of darkness, but as long as they kept the love hidden in their eyes then there was always that warm light.

Afterwards, they smelled like each other, tasted like each other; sweet, musky, a little salty and bitter… A little metallic from their overly ferocious kissing: puppies never realize their strength, whimper at their mistakes, and promise you everything with one look so you can keep loving them!

Moist, warm desire in their little Gryffindor bed that night; but still hard, damn it, 'cause they were boys.

And boys like it rough!

##

To Be Continued. NOT OVER!

End-of-chapter commentary: Yay! This isn't the end!