Chapter 1

 

“So, how was History of Magic, Mr. Moony?” he asks me, stretching with a large yawn.

 

I almost don’t hear him, transfixed as I am by the bare inch of flesh I can see as his shirt lifts with his stretch. I can’t decide if I’m happy he never buttons his robes over his uniform, or if I wish he would, so I can concentrate on something else.

 

“Boring,” I reply, forcing myself to look away from him.

 

“Boring? Dost mine ears deceive me?” a mock-shocked look is spread across his face as he fights a grin. “Mr. Moony, Perfect Prefect, Learned Learner, Notable Note-taker, thought History of Magic was boring?”

 

“Your ears are working just fine, Padfoot,” I tell him, feeling a grin creeping onto my face despite myself. I can’t help it when he’s around.

 

“Gasp!” he exclaims, and then loses his battle against a grin, white teeth flashing in the sunlight pouring through the windows as he beams at me. It lights up the world.

 

“You do have notes, though, don’t you, Moony?” James asks, turning back to us now that Lily has disappeared with her friends.

 

Um... actually… “Afraid not, Prongs,” I admit in a cheerful tone.

 

A great Muggle writer once said ‘Always acknowledge a fault frankly. This will throw those in authority off guard and allow you opportunity to commit more.’

 

“You… what?” James raises both eyebrows, thoroughly shocked.

 

Next to James, he looks equally surprised, while Peter looks utterly flabbergasted.

 

Mark Twain really was brilliant, despite the fact that he was American.

 

“I don’t have any notes, Mr. Prongs,” I tell my shaggy-haired friend, grinning.

 

“But… you always have notes!” Peter whines. He, I’d noticed, had spent the entire period napping… just like most of the class, with the usual exceptions of Lily and myself.

 

“Why don’t you have any notes, Moony?” he asks me.

 

“Because I was too busy watching you sleep, Mr. Padfoot,” I answer truthfully.

 

He laughs, thinking I’m joking. “Come on, Moony,” he slings a companionable arm around my shoulder, and I melt inside.  “What were you really doing?”

 

“Remus?” it’s one of the seventh year boys.

 

Safe.

 

“Hi, Bryan.” I grin at him, trying not to let my relief show.

 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Bryan Davenport glances at him and James, gaze missing Peter. “Alone?”

 

“Yeah, sure.” I try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he tightens his arm around me, holding me in place.

 

“What do you want with him, Davenport?” he asks, glaring at the older boy.

 

Bryan scowls. “There’s something I’d like to ask him. It doesn’t concern you, Black.”

 

“Of course it concerns me!” he growls. “Rem’s my best mate.”

 

James is watching with interest. Peter looks confused.

 

“That doesn’t mean you own him, Black.”

 

I wish.

 

He opens his mouth to continue arguing, but I can’t let him. I know he’s going to lose this one, and I’d rather he not be completely humiliated.

 

“I’m fine, Sirius,” I tell him, putting one hand against his chest. His tie is hanging undone around his neck, and the top two buttons of his shirt are open; I’m tempted to touch the smooth tan skin peeping through. Somehow, I manage not to.

 

He gives me a look, but releases me, and I slip away, following Bryan around the corner.

 

“What’s the matter?” I ask once we’re out of sight of my friends, but Bryan shakes his head, and pulls me into an empty classroom, closing the door behind us.

 

“I don’t want them to listen in,” he says.

 

“Is something wrong?” I don’t know Bryan all that well, but I can’t help but feel a bit concerned.

 

“No,” he says, and gives me a smile.

 

He’s cute when he smiles. Actually, he’s cute even when he doesn’t smile, but when he does smile… well, it’s too bad I have another smile to compare it to, one that I can’t seem to get enough of, because Bryan’s smile is definitely something.

 

“Then…?” I prompt, curious, and trying to ignore the inappropriate voices in my head.

 

“I was wondering if you were doing anything this weekend,” he says, and I’m interested to note that his cheeks have a slight pink tinge. “It’s a Hogsmeade weekend.”

 

“I guess I’m just going with Sirius, James, and Peter,” I respond, wondering where this is going. Does he need help with something? We’ve been study partners before, even though he is a year above me.

 

“Oh, well…” he pauses, as though gathering himself for something. “Well,” he says again. “Would you like to go with me?”

 

“To Hogsmeade?” I’m confused.

 

“Yes.”

 

“You want to come with us?” I may be one of the top students in my year, but I still need more than one-syllable answers to some things.

 

“Er, no.” He’s definitely red now, no longer pink. “I was actually thinking just the two of us could go. Together. You know… like a, um, a date.”

 

“A date?” What?

 

“Yeah.” He nods.

 

“You’re asking me out?” I didn’t even know he was gay.

 

“Uh, yeah.” I can practically feel the heat coming off his face.

 

“Oh. Wow.” I don’t know what else to say. I’ve never been asked out before. Well, not by a guy. Before I came out, several girls had expressed interest, and a few had even since then. I’d always turned them down without too much trouble. But then, I’d never been attracted to any of them.

 

How does a guy turn down another guy? I don’t question that I’m going to turn him down. He’s attractive, it’s true, and I know I’m attracted to him, and he’s nice, and smart, and older, which somehow adds to his appeal. But he’s still just Bryan. I don’t want Bryan. The wolf doesn’t want Bryan. Anything I have with Bryan will never amount to, well, anything. It can’t. And I can’t let him think it would. That wouldn’t be fair to him. And, so, although I know the wolf and I will never be satisfied, never sated, I cannot allow Bryan to become a casualty.

 

“You don’t have to answer me now,” Bryan says suddenly. “It’s only Tuesday. Just think about it, okay?”

 

I manage to nod, still not sure what to say.

 

“Let me know by Friday.” He turns to walk away, then turns back, grasps me lightly by the shoulders, and presses a soft kiss to my lips.

 

Bryan pulls back, and I can only stare at him. He smiles, and leaves.

 

My first kiss. I just had my first kiss. I’d always cherished the hope that… but no. It would never have happened anyway. And now I’d had my first kiss. And I’d liked it. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go on one date with Bryan. Maybe he would kiss me again.

 

An image flashes in my mind, of dark hair, grey eyes, a brilliant smile… completely unlike Bryan’s copper locks and dark brown eyes. I know what it is I want, what it is I need. What the wolf wants. What the wolf needs. It’s not Bryan. It will never be Bryan. I know that. I understand it. And yet…

 

I stare after Bryan, though he’s long gone now, and press my fingers to my still-tingling lips.

 

TBC

 

A/N: I really do love Mark Twain (and I, too, am American, so, please, take no offense from Rem’s “despite the fact that he was American” comment. It just amused me to say that). Little fun fact for y’all: Mark Twain (properly known as Samuel Langhorne Clemens) had an older brother named Orion (who ran a paper). Orion, in case you didn’t know, is a constellation that appears next to Canis Major. The star Sirius is a part of Canis Major, and, according to the myth, Canis Major represents Orion’s dog (or one of his dogs, depending on what version you read). Just a little “seven degrees” for you.