Marauder crack

The answer to James's question

Sirius Black has kissed a lot of girls. A good handful of them.

The thing started one day, at a party organized by his mother. He was presented to some distant relatives and among them, a second cousin or who knows what from Glasgow. A girl with honey-colored eyes who was already putting makeup on, and left traces of carmine all over his face and said, "Not like that, silly, with yer' mouth open ".

From there, the rest, and as they say, is history.

Some he remembers by name, of others he only remembers their perfume. Most have faded, like the memory of a night of drunkenness. There are better kisses and there are worse kisses but a mouth is a mouth and Sirius always knows what to do when they want to kiss him.

In the fifth year, Martha who-knows-what, a girl from Hufflepuff told him in the dark, panting, her skirt at her waist and Sirius's head tucked in inside her neckline. She cursed and perjured against him, between sighs and she promised to hate him eternally for making her lose control. 

Summer before the sixth year, he hooked up with an Italian tourist visiting the United Kingdom and had a very sexy accent. She told him that he was good at tongues. And then another one, in Hogsmeade, one night in December at "The Three Broomsticks." A blue-eyed brunette explained that there were two kinds of boys and two kinds of kisses. "Some know how to soften your heart...", she told him, "...and others, they know how to soften everything else, just like you".

Just like him.

Near Number 12 of Grimmauld Place, there's a bearded guy with a cart that makes all kinds of figures with wire and another, three streets down the road, who does imitations of famous paintings. Well, Muggles make bridges without magic and travel to the moon in flying ships, so Sirius assumes that there are as many different talents as there are different people. His talent is to make the girls lose control and open their legs to him. He undoes the architecture of her clothes in the dark, continuing to kiss them. He removes their bra when they are dressed, one-handed inside their shirts. He feeds on his insecurities, finds out what they want to say, and then say that quietly. Sex with girls is a prank and Sirius Black is a born and raised criminal. He has always known that this was his talent.

Meeting Remus's is leaving him dizzy, on the verge of an epic suicide.

It is not discovered every day that the talent of your best friend - your second best friend or whatever- is leaving you speechless, like a dog that only knows how to drool and growl. When Remus kisses him, he feels like a virgin. No, worse, raw. They are kisses like him, lazy and sublime, limping.

Remus has the hottest lips he's ever tasted and he's on fire, and he's a boy and it doesn't matter, at that moment, when they stick their tongues in each other's mouth, it doesn't matter because it's different, it's different and that's why it's fine, that's better than ever. Better than in his entire life. Because the girls he kisses with those parts of himself that he is willing to teach. He kisses them as Sirius Black, the rebel, the ruffian, the intractable, the casanova. But Remus can't deny him anything and kisses him with everything else. Anger and hatred and magic, blood, moon, flesh. He kisses him with everything he has inside, the human, the animal. Nothing is saved because he is dying. He fucking dies and wants Remus Lupin, who never gets upset and he never gets angry and that he always knows what to say, fall dead with him.

He wants to bite him off. He is still angry. He wants Remus to stop looking at other guys. He wants to leave marks on his skin, more permanent than the wounds of the moon. He wants to do things to him that he has never done to a girl. He doesn't want to screw it up. It's Remus. He has no idea what he wants. But whatever may be, he needs it and he desperately needs it. He is kissing him, he's touching under his shirt and he's not relieving himself.