This is not a love story

Sirius and Remus decided early on that whatever this unnamed thing between them was, it wasn't love. They decided that seventeen year old boys did not fall in love, and if they did it most certainly wasn't with other blokes. Love was flowers and dates and romance and chocolate, and while they both enjoyed chocolate, they were having none of that other rubbish.

They were perfectly fine being not in love with one another. While James was worrying over which restaurant to take Lily to on their third date, Sirius and Remus laughed to each other, thankful that they didn't have to worry about the trivial things that came with love. When Peter wrote his girlfriend Charlene a poem, they were glad they didn't have to bother with that nonsense. Blokes didn't write poetry, everyone knew that. Well, except for that Byron fellow. And perhaps a few others. That was besides the point though. Sirius and Remus knew they didn't need to write down how they felt. They trusted the other boy just knew.

"You know," Sirius said to Remus uneasily one night after an especially excellent shag, "I don't love you."

"I know," Remus replied around a yawn. "I don't love you either," he added hastily.

"Love is for the birds."


"Did you see that poem Wormtail wrote?"


"All that nonsense about how she made him feel warm inside and how she was the first thing she thought about and the last… I mean, the first thing I think about in the morning is how I have to piss."

Remus made a small noise of agreement.

"I'm glad we don't have to deal with that nonsense."

"Quite," Remus agreed. "Even if you are the last thing I think of before I drift off."

"You are too," Sirius said softly and kissed the top of Remus' head.

"You're occasionally the first thing I think of," Remus mused, "when you've stolen all the bedcovers."

"Hey! That only happens sometimes!" Sirius exclaimed in mock annoyance. Remus smiled and there was a moment of companionable silence before Sirius said, "I suppose you're occasionally the first thing when you're not beside me and the bed's all cold. Or when you are and I get to wake up next to you."

"Lucky bastard," Remus said with a grin.

"I know," Sirius agreed amiably.

"The thing about love is," Remus said, "that one of these days, poems aren't going to be enough for Charlene and she'll leave poor Wormtail all heartbroken."

"That's the nice thing about not being in love," Sirius agreed. "I mean, if you left I'd be upset but I wouldn't die like that silly play by whatshisname."


"Yeah. That one."

"You'd just miss the shagging," Remus teased.

"Mmm, I would," Sirius agreed with a nod and kissed Remus soundly as if to prove his point.



"I'd miss more than the shagging."

"I know, you daft wanker," Remus said with a small smile of amusement.

"You know how when you sleep you sort of mumble stuff?"


"Well, you do. I'd miss that. And I'd miss kissing you and touching you and just sort of knowing that you're mine."

"I would miss the way you look at me… Yeah, like that. And I'd miss our late night conversations."

"We'd still talk," Sirius pointed out.

"It wouldn't be the same."

"Don't leave, then."

"I don't plan to," Remus said and wrapped his arms firmer around Sirius.



"Sometimes you make it hard not to love you."

Remus smiled into Sirius' shoulder.

"I think I stopped trying not to love you a while ago," Remus admitted.

"Maybe love isn't all that bad," Sirius mused after a moment.

"I don't think it is," Remus confided with a smile and snuggled closer into Sirius before surrendering himself to sleep, Sirius the last thing on his mind.