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It was stupid. Like 100% stupid. Peter's level of stupidity. Sirius was losing his fucking mind. Of course, it was the summer's fault. The heat was making him… making him… desperate. Yeah, that was a good word.
No, but really. It wasn't even that hot, and Remus was not sensitive to high temperatures. So he didn't need to eat so much ice cream, come on.
If he didn't know his friend, he would have sworn he was doing it on purpose. What purpose? Who knew. Maybe a prank against him. Maybe another experiment. Maybe he had a sadistic streak that was coming to light.
Because, also… Who the fuck ate ice cream like that?
He didn't, that's for sure. James didn't either. It was a Remus thing. From the way he took the cone—gripping it with his whole hand, as if it were going to escape somehow, but also in that gentle way his long fingers did everything—to the way he stuck out his tongue to wipe some of the chocolate—from side to side, from bottom to top, putting the entire scoop of ice cream in his mouth and then taking it out almost intact. Soon, he was to start sculpting figurines.
And to top it off, when he was done, he licked his fingers. But not like a toddler would do, no, he did it with the sole purpose of making Sirius crazy. Slow, rolling his dark pink tongue between them, sucking the tips, until there wasn't even a little drop of chocolate that was not in his system.
Seconds later, he would clean his hands with a wipe and act as if nothing had happened. Really?
Honestly, being twenty should mean you know how to eat ice cream cone. Not in bites, like Peter did, of course.
Next time, Sirius was going to ask for a tub instead of a cone. Let's see if Remus could play his little mind tricks with it, too.
Fuck, he probably would. Licking the stupid fucking spoon, and of course, he would smear again his fingers with chocolate, and they would be in the exact same situation again.
It was a maze with no exit.
But, listen, Sirius was running out of ways. Ways to cover what Remus's eating-ice-crime-cones skills did to him. It was mortifying. And he was not easy to embarrass, bet on it.
The last time, they were on his bike. On his fucking bike. They had stopped on their way to the Potters' summer house because Remus wanted an Ice cream, of course. Okay, it was fucking hot, and the helmet didn't help. But who was the one who had to drive ten minutes later with a big problem between his legs? It wasn't Remus, that's for sure, Sirius would have noticed.
Holy fuck. He wanted to notice it.
See? He was out of his mind.
He was a big boy. Almost an adult now. He had assumed his sexuality years before, he had… tried things—sex things—by himself and with others, he had passed the phase of being horny all the time and getting hard over any stupid situation. Now it couldn't be that one of his best friends was causing that kind of reaction.
It had reached his dreams.
You can imagine that by the third, Remus was not eating ice cream in his mind.
Those thin reddish lips were going to be the end of him.
And his eyes? Remus's super ordinary brown eyes? Well, they didn't seem so ordinary anymore. Not when he knew how they looked when his friend was seeing something he wanted. He looked at books like that, at chocolate, at chocolate ice cream cones... So how would he look at other things he might want?
You get what he means, right? Then, you understand he was going fucking mental.
Hence, he needed a plan.
Step 1: Knowing what he wanted to achieve with said plan.
Given that he couldn't make a plan to get his best friend to blow the candle—because he shouldn't be having those thoughts in the first place—the goal was to stop that madness.
How?
Step 2:
Manage to ban ice cream in the country
Manipulate medical results to make Remus believe he is lactose intolerant.
Hide in a bunker for the rest of the summer.
Step 2: Realising that there is nothing special about the way Remus eats ice cream.
Again: How?
Step 3: Understanding the way Remus eats ice cream.
Look, Sirius knew he was fit. He knew he was hot. He had good self-esteem. But he was ridiculous.
He had been eating ice cream in front of a mirror for a week. And yes, he looked good, because once again, he was a handsome bloke. But trying to do it the Remus way? Ridiculous. He didn't have those lamb eyes, nor that big nose that always got a drop of chocolate at the tip—Hadn't he mentioned that before? Well, that drove him crazy, too.
But the most important thing was that Remus did it without meaning to. That was the main difference. Remus wasn't trying.
Fuck Remus.
No.
No.
N-Yes.
He wished.
Fuck! No. Remus was his friend; he couldn't risk that because of the hot summer.
Unless…
NEW STEP 3: If Remus drove him crazy, he could drive Remus crazy, too.
You already know what comes now…
How?
Step 4: Remus might have a sinful way to eat ice cream, but Sirius had a sinful mind and a dirty mouth. He was a flirt, in other words.
He knew how to use his words, and that meant he knew when to use them and with whom. Until now, his friends hadn't been victims of it, but soon that was going to change.
One of their favourite plans for summer nights was going to Hyde Park with a picnic blanket and sandwiches in a backpack, sitting there playing cards and having a light dinner. Usually, it was them two along with James and Lily, but they had planned a dinner with the Evans—he was praying for his friends—so it was only them two of them.
The moment he decided to put on the shorts that were loose at the waist, showing the antlers he had tattooed on his hipbones, and Alphard's dark blue blouse, of which he only buttoned the middle button, he knew he was serious about the matter.
“Hi, darling,” he greeted Remus when they met at the entrance of the Park.
He gave him that look that meant ‘I don't know what you're up to, but I know you're up to something.’ But it was obvious the way his eyes checked him out.
“Got everything?”
Sirius nodded and showed him the backpack. Remus hummed, and they started walking towards their favourite spot, under a big oak tree.
Plan in progress.
His default summer hairstyle was a high bun, but this time he had done a semi-updo, which allowed him to move his hair to one side and let the scent of his cologne travel through the air—he had everything studied. He would swear he noticed Remus sniff, but his friend had always been good at concealing his emotions.
When they sat, Sirius made sure to be a little closer to Remus than usual. Remus smiled at him and began to shuffle the cards. Okay.
Well, maybe Sirius forgot a bit about the plan while playing. But it was because if he lost focus, he would lose the winning streak he had been cultivating for years. You know, all the posh Black family thing with the long nights seeing his father playing cards with his bigoted friends had to be of some use.
But then it was time to eat the sandwiches, and he put on a show.
He bent down to pull them out of the backpack at the perfect angle so Remus could take in the view. But Remus’s brown eyes were always fixed on him, so he couldn’t know if it affected him. Well, he was looking for the sum of everything; at the end of the night, Remus would be the one having inappropriate thoughts and dreams.
He ate more slowly than usual, savouring every bite and not holding back his moans of satisfaction as he did so. He didn’t have to pretend; the sandwiches were excellent. And some people—Peter—dared to say he couldn’t cook. Ha!
“I have told you before,” Remus said after swallowing a bite of his tuna with tomato sandwich, “but I love your sandwiches.”
See? That’s a way to a man’s heart. He knew it because Remus baked so fucking delicious cakes, and pastries, and biscuits... His friend had a sweet tooth, okay?
“I know,” he replied, smug, then licked his lips and added: “babe.”
Remus chuckled and fixed his gaze on his hands, which were trying to open a bottle of water.
“What’s with the pet names today?” he asked. “Have you been doing another telefilm romcom marathon?”
That was not the reaction he wanted.
“Maybe… You like it?”
“You can call me however you want if you keep adding the good ones to my list.”
“That’s for granted, Moony.”
That always worked. Every time he called Remus by his childhood nickname, his friend’s cheek turned pink. Adorable.
They finished eating. Soon it will come, the ice cream cone. Sirius was trying to decide what his next move should be when Remus cleared his throat.
“You have some…” he said, reaching out to brush a crumb from the corner of Sirius's lips.
Oh, the touch of Remus’s fingers so near his mouth… Those long fingers Remus loved to suck…
No, no. It was Remus’s turn to lose his mind. Sirius, focus.
“Thank you,” he said, fast enough so the movement of his lips made contact with Remus’s finger paths. He swallowed hard. Sirius saw it; he was sure.
Remus stretched out on the grass, sighing, and Sirius quickly leaned towards him.
“Hi,” Remus whispered, smiling.
“Hi.”
“You haven’t told Frank if you’re coming to his pool party.”
“Well, who’s gonna take you there if not me?” Sirius asked, raising his left eyebrow.
“That, he doesn’t know.”
Sirius chuckled and shook his head.
“I saw him yesterday at the market.”
“He was flirting with Alice again?”
He nodded. They became silent. There they were, those lamb eyes staring at him, those dark reddish lips stretched in a soft smile, the soft light brown curls against the green ground. Of course Remus drove him crazy; he was beautiful.
“He’s so obvious about it.”
“Yeah, he is… But Alice had always been cautious when it came to relationships.”
“They’re perfect for each other. I’m sure they will work it out soon.”
After a couple of minutes, a sound reached their ears, and Remus’s smile grew bigger.
“You know what time it is?”
Oh, no.
“Let me guess…”
“Ice cream time!”
He got up as fast as he could—his knees weren’t the best you could find out there—and ran towards the ice cream trolley that was approaching. Sirius groaned and followed him.
The thing was making Remus feel so worked up that by the time he ate the ice cream cone, he would be too preoccupied thinking about Sirius to make a scene. But he had the feeling his plan was not working very well.
Wait, he couldn't give up yet. He still had a chance.
Step 5: Distract Remus while he ate the ice cream.
Remus had his chocolate cone in his hand and they had started strolling while he ate it. Sirius took a deep breath while his gaze tried to avoid looking at that naughty tongue.
“I think it’s cooler tonight,” he said.
“May God hear you… I need to sleep more than two hours straight.”
Another lick.
“You know, I like hot things, just not the weather.”
Remus looked at him with an arched eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t have guessed it.”
“There, the sweat is so nicer. You can even lick it, and you want to.”
More licks, from one side to the other, with a flat tongue.
“Context always matters,” was all Remus said.
“Yeah, it’s like… Like ice cream!” he declared. “It’s always sweet, but sometimes you want it to refresh you, and other times… to make things even hotter.”
He consciously moved his hand so his index finger pointed at the cone and then at his half-naked torso in a downward direction. He tried to hide his smile when he saw Remus’s gaze following the movement.
Then, seeming lost in thought, Remus opened his mouth and put the whole tip of the ice cream in his mouth, sucking slowly until it was free again.
Fucking fuck of fucks. It wasn’t a cooler night. Right now, it was the opposite.
“I get it,” Remus murmured, a bit shy. He didn’t usually talk about what he liked, or thought he liked, in sex. “I can see it.”
As far as Sirius knew—and he thought he knew enough, being his best friend—all the experience that Remus had when talking about sex was with his first real girlfriend, with whom he had made out more than once, and a summer fling the year before. Remus didn’t tell much, but enough to know that he had tried a couple of things. But the things he did when he was alone? That was unknown territory for Sirius.
But oh, the things they could do together… Things Sirius had always imagined in his dreams; also, things that he had done before, but that with Remus had to be different.
“B- W- I- I think vanilla would taste good on me, right?” he stuttered, a last try.
Remus didn’t answer at first. He just licked the ice cream from bottom to top, and as Sirius knew it would happen sooner or later, he got some on the tip of his nose, which he also tried to clean with his tongue. It was a fucking long tongue. Of course, he didn’t succeed. He just came back to his ice cream, this time with his lips, like he was kissing it. And he did it one more time.
“That’s because you love vanilla,” he finally said, and he sounded a bit affected. Sirius was totally, completely, irrevocably sure. “So I think it should go on the other person, you know…”
The little time he spent talking and not eating was enough for a drop of chocolate to slide down his finger.
Oh, no.
He changed the hand that grabbed the ice cream cone and his tongue darted out, cleaning his middle finger neatly. Sirius felt a drop of sweat coming down his neck. It was impossible.
“Oh, come on, Remus!” he exclaimed, desperate.
His friend looked at him still with his fingertip in his mouth and eyes wide open.
“What?” he said, going back to eating the ice cream but with his attention fixed on Sirius.
“You are always doing it!”
“Doing what?”
“You know what!”
Now, Remus looked truly confused. His gaze went from Sirius to the cone in his hand, probably because Sirius was staring at it.
“You… Is this about the ice cream?”
“Yes!”
To Sirius' total bewilderment, Remus rolled his eyes.
Rolled his eyes!
What the fuck?
“Oh, but if you wanted, you could have said it!” He said.
Again: What the fuck?
“What?”
“If you wanted to share, you just had to say it, Sirius.”
He was not in danger of losing his mind. He was already there. All this was a hallucination.
“I- I d- Share?”
“Yeah, come on, have some.”
Then Remus pointed the ice cream cone at him. Sweet chocolate was now looking at him, ready for him. He just had to lean in.
He licked it.
Slow and savouring it, because it was fucking delicious.
His tongue went from the edge of the cone to the chocolate tip that Remus’s mouth had made with his own licks. He didn’t think about it; he just did it, impulsively.
And when Sirius returned his gaze at Remus, he was gaping.
Remus’s eyes were fixed on Sirius’s mouth. He licked his lips. He breathed slowly. He was… turned on.
“Really?”
It could have been funny the way Remus actually jumped, startled, and how he gaped like a fish out of the water, but Sirius was too focused on his indignation.
“I, I…”
“I have been trying to drive you crazy all afternoon, and all I had to do was eat your fucking ice cream?”
Sirius couldn’t even feel ashamed of the words leaving his mouth unprompted; he just had to say it. Say something. Make Remus react. And he reacted. Remus sighed and shook his head; then looked at him, sheepishly.
“Sirius, you have been driving me crazy since I have a memory,” he admitted. “By now, I know how to hide it. But I still don’t understand-”
Sirius kissed him hard on the mouth and without any care, so when the rest of the cone fell to the ground, he didn’t even notice.
His hands were gripping Remus’s neck, pushing him against him, and their mouths moved against each other. He felt Remus’s fingers strolling up his chest until they reached the sides of his shirt and grabbed it, hard, pulling in so their chests collided.
Remus moaned when one of Sirius’s hands went to his hair and he slid his fingers through the soft curls. He smiled into the kiss and swallowed the sound at the same time his tongue darted out, searching for Remus’s.
The kiss deepened, with a marvellous taste of chocolate. Soon, Sirius was grabbing Remus’s hip and letting his head be moved by his friend so he could press his thumbs on his cheeks, adding intensity to the way their lips rubbed against each other and their tongues met.
They stumbled backwards, what made them break the embrace and laugh, looking at each other, but soon they were kissing again.
Sirius hugged Remus by the waist, his heart fluttering in his chest. He felt so fucking happy, delighted, rapt. He liked vanilla, but now his favourite ice cream flavour was chocolate.
Remus’s body was hard against his and they were softly moaning each other’s names between kisses, like prayers. They didn’t feel the time passing, it could have been minutes, hours or whole days.
But when he changed positions and their crotches rubbed against each other, Remus got away, just a few inches, enough to talk.
“We are in a public space,” he whispered.
He sounded so out of breath that Sirius felt his insides jump.
“And you like that?” he asked, smirking.
“Don’t be stupid.”
Oh, but his eyes shone and they were close enough for Sirius to feel that he was not absolutely wrong. Noted.
They kissed again, and many more times until it was time to go back home. Sirius promised Remus he would buy him an ice cream next time, because now it wouldn’t bother him, not at all.
It was fucking mental. He had made out with Remus, with his Remus, with I-eat-ice-cream-like-a-pornstar Remus, with shy Remus, with Moony, with Remus Lupin.
Got it?
He. And Remus. Making out.
That night, his bedroom saw things he had seen before, but in his mind it was new, because now he could remember Remus’s lips against his, his hands, the sweet taste of his mouth… It was heavenly.
Oh, and they also texted a bit before sleeping. It turned out that now they were… a couple.
Between making out—fuck, he had fucking snogged Remus—and returning home—it was usual for Sirius to escort Remus home—they had talked about what Remus had said, that about how Sirius drove him crazy since always. And about why Sirius had done… everything he had done that evening. He didn’t tell him about the plan, he was allowed to have a little secret, and it was embarrassing enough telling Remus that every time he had been eating ice cream that summer he had ended with a hard on.
“Okay, so… you think I’m hot but… that’s it?”
That had been Remus’s question. But, in honour of the truth, Sirius’s answer was not only honest, but also one of the easiest things he had ever said.
“Well, no. I like you. You’re beautiful.”
Remus had blushed. Yes, then he had blushed. And Sirius had kissed his cheek, what made him blush even more.
“That means that now we… are together?” he had said, sounding uncertain.
“I think it could be good, yeah.”
And they had kissed again in front of Remus’s house, until Hope had cleared her throat. Embarrassing, yes. But he was too happy to care about it.
It was three weeks later, and an amount of maybe five ice cones, when they found themselves alone on Sirius’s home—a little flat he shared with James until he and Lily could buy a house on their own.
They were making out after eating a couple of ice creams that they had shared—vanilla and chocolate—and Remus was now kissing Sirius’s neck.
Sirius’s hands were roaming over his back, half over his shirt, half under, and their legs were entwined.
It was hot. The heat entered through the windows, and their skins were on fire for more than one reason. In the blink of an eye, Sirius was gripping Remus’s ass and Remus’s fingers were playing with his trousers’ hem.
“Rem…” he moaned.
Suddenly, the brown lamblike eyes were looking at him brightly; the pupils were dilated, darkening the gaze. Sirius lowered his eyes and looked at the puffy lips, kissed and bit. The whole image was lustful.
“Can I?” Remus whispered.
Sirius looked at the way he was grabbing his fly and nodded.
Since their first kiss, Sirius had stopped caring about the way Remus ate ice cream. Well, it was still fucking hot, but now he could just grab his collar and kiss him, so it was bearable.
But now, for a second, he became jealous of those ice cream cones again. Because they had been having Remus do those things with his tongue for months. Wicked things. Decidedly, no beginner's things, so… really thinking about it… Thank fucking much for the damned ice cream cones.
There, there, there… Like that, oh, yeah, like that. So, so, so, good…
Oh, fucking fuck fuckers.
He was in paradise. He had reached the highest point in this world.
Now, that heat, he loved it.
Yes. Yes, Remus, yes.
OH!
“You taste almost better than ice cream.”
Fair enough, he was not the only one with a dirty mouth.
“But now every time you have one,” he replied, moving his hands to remove Remus’s shirt and then lowering them, “you’re going to think of me, and what is going to happen right now.”
Remus squirmed under him, and he smiled, his mouth attached to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He made a mess of his boyfriend with his bare hands, a total wreck.
It was a good payment for all those days he had suffered from extreme horniness.
A very good payment, indeed. Better than what he could have thought…
Holy shit.
His plan had worked.
He was a mastermind.