Summary: Remus is always surprised when Sirius kisses him. Until the time he kisses back.
To Remus, the kisses were like little surprises, wrapped up neatly in Christmas boxes, just incase. The first one was the worst, lying back on his bed, reading by wandlight. Love Potions, lust brews, the pounding behind his eyes as he tried to push away his thoughts of considering it. The pages were thick against his fingers and he dreaded each turn -- would he get so far he'd be unable to not give in? Would he, unwillingly, scream Sirius's name at one more diagram of anatomically correct effects? The back of his throat shuddered, and his stomach curled in on itself; the curtains surrounding him whispering gently in the breeze from the open window.
He stilled, admirably, as heavy footfalls pounded just outside of the bed, echoing around his head, and the creak of the window helped him draw a breath. His eyes caught phrases, picked out pointedly, in bold, from the book on his lap, and his heart raced. He had felt never felt so dangerous (outside of the full moon, which, as he had been reminded by all of his friends, didn't count as he was far from it to them). His skin practically tingled with excitement until a head popped through the flimsy red velvet, following aptly by a body and a grin.
Remus snapped the book shut.
"Up late, Moony?" Sirius had said, knuckles oddly white against the curtain as he glanced at the pile of books mounted up on the bed, "We don't have exams for months, it's safe to sleep you know."
"I -- I -- yes. You're right," Remus stuttered, shoving his hands behind his back. And that's when Sirius kissed him. Or what he expected was supposed to be a kiss. Leaning in, pressing his lips briefly to Remus's before straightening up and shrugging his shoulders.
"Well, goodnight, again." he smiled and Remus was still wide awake the next morning.
They kept happening after that. Before the full moon, ( "what was that for?" "Luck."), after getting their potions marks, ("Congratulations!" "Umm. Thanks."), even after a particularly good Hogsmeade visit, ("Sirus -- what?" "Today was fun, wasn't it?"). They came unexpectantly but lingered until the next one, or until Remus couldn't taste him on his lips any longer, the days he'd go to bed early, and lie and think. And try to play it back in his mind.
"I like you," Sirius said one day, snowed under with parchment and ink, in the middle of penning an oddly tricky Astronomy chart. Glancing up and smiling before going back to work. Remus ignored it at first, burying his nose further in a book to hide the deep flush on his cheeks.
"I like you," he repeated after realising he wasn't getting a reply, his throat burning, and his voice a little bit deeper. His foot brushed against Remus's, and as he finished the long loop of an f, he added quietly, "Like a boy likes a girl."
"I'm not a girl." Remus stuttered quickly and they both grinned.
"I know." Sirius smiled, reaching over and grabbing a book from his pile and flicking through it. Remus's heartbeat pounded in his ears before, unexpectedly again, Sirius leant over and kissed him. This time neither of them pulled away.