The street in Muggle London had been empty of all signs of life until a worn man on a broomstick descended onto the street. The long flight from the latest rendevous the Order had sent him on had left his hair in disarray, and Remus Lupin smiled cynically at the thought. Disarray wouldn't only be a good word to describe his appearance, but his current mindset as well.

He sighed and dismounted from the broom before slinging it across his shoulder and making his way through the streets toward home.

Home. It was such an odd word, especially when being used to describe a place such as Number Twelve Grimmauld Place; the house was as dark as the family that had once resided within its hallowed halls. Still, for him home had never been quite the description of a particular location, but rather where those closest to him dwelt. For that reason, for the simple fact that there were none closer to him than Sirius Black, he would manage. They would manage.

He thought clearly about the house, the fact that this was a secret he was allowed, as well as whom had allowed him to know this secret, and waited. As it always did, the house appeared to shove and fight its way into existence, shoving all the Muggle dwellings from its designated position with ease. The faintest look of disgust crossed his face as it occurred to him that the former family of residence would have loved that.

When he entered the house, and made his way through the foyer to where the rest of the house seemed to watch, wait, and judge him for his faults, Remus caught the dimmest echo of Firewhiskey hovering in the air. He sighed softly; Sirius had been drinking again. Not that he could fault his lover for it, really. If he had been the one caged here alone with the memories that Sirius had but refused to discuss, he might find himself driven to drink as well.

Still, that didn't mean he had to like it.

Remus shook the thought from his mind, and turned toward the kitchen. Once he was inside, though, he found himself surprised. The scent of alcohol was stronger here, but there was an increase in the warmth and cheer that most of the house lacked. Something on the table that caught his attention. He hadn't noticed anything resting upon the surface when he'd last been home around Christmas, and so he picked it up for a closer look.

It was a calendar. Remus turned it over again in his hands and took a closer look. He was so tired and had been away so long he was no longer certain what the date even was.

He blinked in surprise at it for a moment. 15 February. Lupercalia.

His and Sirius' anniversary.

An almost-smirk crossed his face as he set the calendar back on the table. It didn't mean exactly what Sirius had first thought it had when he'd come to him so many years ago with the question, but they had managed to make the best of everything, regardless of the fact. In fact, it was probably better for it, once they'd gotten past all the confusion. Remus grinned at the thought, and propped his hands on the table, leaning into it as he let himself remember.

They had been barely seventeen...

Remus was in the in the empty dormitory attempting to prepare for his Defence NEWT while it was still deserted. After all, James and Peter were still down at the Pitch for Quidditch practice, and Sirius had gone off to the library to research some unknown project he'd been on about for weeks. He had been curious, of course, but Sirius would tell in due time, so he was perfectly content to take advantage of the lull.

However, that was before his bed was the target of a hurricane of black, gold, and red. In the aftermath, half of the scrolls ended up on the floor, and one of the textbooks landed in such a way that the page would probably be bent. Not to mention that there was now a madly grinning Sirius Black peering at him from the middle of it all.

"Oi, Moony!"

"Yes, Padfoot?" Remus asked, trying to look annoyed, and knowing how badly he failed. As annoyed as he actually was, he found that such emotions were fleeting, and when confronted with the bundle of energy that was his closest friend, it was even more fleeting. With a faint sigh, he moved to retrieve the book and fallen scrolls and return them to his trunk at the end of the bed; there was little chance of getting more studying done now that Sirius was there.

"Oh, come now, Moony. Don't be like that. I just wanted to - you know - talk to you about something."

At first, Sirius sounded as though he was chiding him again, but then his tone changed, and became something entirely different. He looked up in response, and watched Sirius for a long moment. That expression was enough to bring him back to the bed, where he sat across from him and prepared to wait.

Sirius looked nervous, and seemed to grow more agititated the longer Remus watched him. It reminded him of other times during their friendship: the time during first year when Sirius had admitted to the rest of them what his family was actually like, for example. Then there was the time when James, Sirius, and Peter had confronted him about being a werewolf. Most of all, though, the expression brought to mind Sirius' confession sixth year of how he didn't fancy witches at all. James had been sure it was a phase that would pass, but Remus wasn't so certain.

It was that expression of mingled nervousness and arrogance all over again, only this time there was something more behind it that piqued his curiosity.

"What is it?"

"Oh, it's nothing, really," Sirius responded, giving a carefree gesture with one hand, but Remus wasn't convinced.

"Padfoot, you're not even convincing yourself, much less me. What is it?"

There was silence for a moment, then the characteristic arrogant mask Sirius had worn for as long as Remus had known him reestablished itself. "Well, while I was looking through the library - for my project, you know - I found a reference I thought I might ask you about. You would be the one to ask, after all."

"Oh, really? What is this about then?"

"Lupercalia. It was mentioned in one of the books, as I said, and it--"

Remus snorted loudly, and Sirius' mask gave way to a puzzled expression. After a moment, he continued, "Sirius, tell me if this is anything like what you read in that book."

"All right..."

Remus started to recite what he had read in the Hogwarts books on the subject while researching during their first year: "Lupercalia, as it was known to the wizards of the Roman Empire, has been known since its incarnation to be inexplicably tied to the werewolf. In most cultures, it takes place on 15 February, the day after Saint Valentine's holiday, which was also borrowed from Roman culture. More specifically, while Saint Valentine's was for most ordinary witches and wizards, Lupercalia was for the werewolf. That was the day in which the wolf would choose from the pack the one he would take as his mate. It is known to be a life-long bonding, in some cases, not even separated by death."

Somewhere in the midst of his lecture, Sirius had started to snicker, and Remus grinned, waiting for him to stop. Finally, the other shoved his hair out of his face and matched the grin with one of his own before asking, "So it's not true, then?"

"It's absolute rubbish," Remus told him.

"So what is Lupercalia, since you know so much?"

"Ah, Sirius," and he leaned in, pressing his forehead against his friend's. "Lupercalia was just another holiday created by the Romans so that they might have another excuse to have as much sex as they could stand. Perhaps more," he added on a mischievous note.

"Oh, is it now?"

"Indeed," Remus said, then paused for a moment before continuing, "Why? Would you care to celebrate Lupercalia in the Roman fashion tonight, then?"

The first he was aware of was the loss of pressure against his forehead. Before he could protest, though, it was replaced by the press of warm, dry lips against his own. He hadn't even a chance to respond in kind before the pressure was gone, and he caught Sirius studying him. With the flash of those eyes, and a grin that revealed white teeth, Remus found his two years of patience snapping sharply. Without the least hesistation, he pushed Sirius' unresisting body to the bed and hovered over him for a moment, studying him as he had been studied, before he moved downward to continue the kiss they had started.

That time, the kiss was a proper one, as Sirius' mouth parted beneath the persuasion of his tongue. He pinned Sirius' wrists over his head and relished the sensation of their tongues twining together even as their hips pressed together. He could feel the growing hardness that matched his own, and kissed him just that much harder. When finally he pulled away, they were both breathless and those lips were swollen and beckoned for him to return to them. He resisted the temptation, even when Sirius wetted them with his lips.

Instead, he set his attention to that alluring curve of neck, tasting salt, skin, and all Sirius, and smiled before biting just so. Sirius arched under him, which just encouraged him more. Remus looked up, arching his eyebrows in a question before reaching for the robes that hid the other's body from his gaze.

He heard a "Yes," as a response to the unspoken question.

Moments were spent divesting each other of their robes, until there was nothing but skin against skin. Remus enjoyed the feeling of Sirius' body beneath his own, and the reactions when he explored. There was the neck that he had only started to explore with licks and bites, where he learned how much he could get used to that taste, and that scent he'd know probably anywhere.

There was the nipple he encouraged to tighten with teasing licks of his tongue, and bites that were nowhere as gentle as the ones delivered to the neck. He could feel the hardness jutting into his hip becoming more prominent, even as it found an echo within his own body. Soft sounds of encouragement escalated into cursing as he slid his body and mouth lower, teasing all the while.

"Oh, fuck..."

Yes, he thought to himself, even as he hummed in answer, that's precisely the point.

Finally, he tired of teasing Sirius, and teasing himself. He moved past the navel with teasing bites, and slowly started taking that cock in his mouth. First it was just the tip, and the swirl of his tongue over the tip, catching the taste of pre-come as he did so. Then he took more inside until the entire length was in his mouth, his nose was buried in dark pubic hair, and he could see Sirius' hands clenched in the bedcovers as he tried not to move. After a moment, though, he started to release the length from his mouth, and heard a sound of desperate protest from somewhere above his head.

He sucked at him, and then moved faster, Sirius arching and swearing as he did so. It didn't take much of that before his friend - lover? - was trying to keep from slamming his cock down his throat. Only, he took him deep after a moment of trying, and then quite deliberately swallowed.

When Sirius came, he made a sound that was part-growl and part his name before he collapsed in a heap on the bed.

Remus let him slip from his mouth before crawling up that body. Sirius accepted the kiss, deepened it, and let it end before sighing.

That was the only warning he had, if you could call it a warning, before he was on his back and Sirius was on top of him. He didn't linger as he had, touching and teasing. Sirius Black knew what he wanted, and he took it. There were bites to the nipples, hard enough to be pleasurable, not hard enough to be truly painful. The slip of a tongue into his navel, which he arched into as he plunged his hands into blue-black hair.

Then - yes - the sensation of Sirius' mouth wrapping around his cock. It didn't take long before his length was entirely wrapped in the wet heat of that mouth. From the first, his control was frayed, and as that mouth moved over him, he felt it slip further away until Sirius stilled entirely, and he let out a shout as he lost control. There were three hard thrusts into that mouth, that throat, and he moaned before collapsing, himself. It was several moments before he felt Sirius release him and crawl up his body to lay beside him.

In the aftermath, they were both shaking. At first with the pleasure of it, then with laughter. It occurred to Remus that it should have been different, more awkward, instead of this languid comfort that felt like an extension of their friendship, but since it wasn't, he wasn't about to argue. After their laughter quieted, he managed to ask, "So, how long, then?"

"Oh, years at least. You?"

"Sounds about right. So why now?"

"Well, there was never quite the right moment to say 'Moony, I think I want to shag you senseless.' So I saw that book on werewolves and Lupercalia, and it seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. Guess not, eh?"

Remus smirked, "Well, it did give you an opening."

"That it did," Sirius smirked back. "And you know, I like this."

As did he, but there was no need for either of them to say anything more. Instead, Remus leaned over and pressed their lips together, again. After that, there was nothing coherent spoken between them for a good long time.

After all, they had promised to celebrate Lupercalia in the proper Roman style.

So it had begun, twenty years ago.

Remus smiled, and pulled back into the present to feel callused fingers tracing the line of his shoulders beneath his robes before abandoning them for running them along his neck. He suddenly felt any and all tiredness wash away in that caress. That was the touch of one who knew him better than any other, and he turned to see Sirius standing behind him.

"Moony..." Sirius' voice was rough and low in his ear.

"Evening, Padfoot," he smiled, turning to face him. "Wizarding calendar?"

"I was bored," the other said in an almost offhanded tone, and it reminded Remus sharply of the careless gesture he had made when much younger, when this whole thing began. For all the flaws and the difficulties, something of the old Sirius remained. "I decided the best way to soothe that tonight would not be Firewhisky, and I thought I might try out that wand that Tonks got for me."

"As if you truly needed to," Remus shook his head. "It was your wand anyway; she just retrieved it from the collection of things the Ministry placed in Shacklebolt's hands when he agreed to take over the search for you."

"Yes, well, anyway," Sirius continued. "I'm glad to see you made it back safely."

"Of course," he said, as he ran a hand along the stubble that lined Sirius' face. "You worry too much, Padfoot."

"So I do," the other admitted with a twist of the lips.

"And of course I would have to make it back tonight," he lowered his tones slightly, pleased as he saw Sirius shift at the sound of it. "It is Lupercalia, after all."

"Care you then," Sirius started, so much like the words he himself had used so many years ago, "to celebrate this Lupercalia in the Roman fashion?"

Then Sirius was against the nearest wall, and his mouth was hovering just above the neckline before he looked up, and saw that same expression he had seen so many times. He smiled a purely wicked smile.

"I thought you'd never ask."