Drunk Confession in the Bathroom

He kicked the bathroom door shut. Remus bent over the sink, turned on the tap, and scooped a handful of cold water over his face and neck. The rush of water drowned some of the panicked noise from his friends, but the music still came through clearly from behind him. “Oh goddammit—fuck offffff,” he groaned to himself, both hands gripping the sides of the porcelain sink, head down. “Just stop it, you idiot. Stop. He’s not—he’s just your friend, he can't be—” “Moony?” Sirius asked. “Bloody fuck” Remus jerked upright and found Sirius’s reflection in the mirror staring at him. “God!” he hissed, turning around, his heart in his throat. Had he heard that? If he had, please just kill me now. “Sirius," he said, gasping, "you shared the shit out of me. What do you—” Sirius lunged forward, grabbed him by the neck, and then—just like that—they were kissing. Remus went completely still, his back against the sink, his mind scrambling for what to do next, but then Sirius opened his mouth and his tongue was there, wet, burning, and so good. Remus couldn't take it. He grabbed back, both hands cupping Sirius's neck until Sirius made a breathless sound into his mouth. They were all over each other, desperate to taste anything they could. Sirius's hand slid into his hair, and as their mouths moved together his whole body was humming, eager and hungry. Sirius gasped again and Remus pushed his tongue deeper, tasting the sour alcohol on his breath. Drunk and impulsive, Sirius looped his arms around Remus's neck, holding his head, locking them together, while Remus's thumb traced his jaw. Then Sirius moaned around his tongue, and he was done for. If Sirius hadn't torn himself away, Remus might never have thought to breathe. Sirius was still pinned against the door. “Shit,” Sirius said, barely getting the air, “wonder where that came from, huh?” Maybe they could still take it back. “You…” Remus didn't finish, letting go of Sirius's leg. “Yeah…” Sirius was breathing hard. For the first time since the night had started, Remus was afraid again. Afraid of what this meant for them as friends, and afraid of what it meant for him. Of what it made him. “Sirius, I-I don't—" he stammered; "I-I mean, that I'm not a—” “S’fine, me neither,” Sirius whispered just as fast, shifting so Remus could jump away from him. Sirius's eyes stayed on the floor. “Not really, like it’s just—uhm… Sorry, m'just pissed. Utterly gassed actually. Just... forget about it… please?” “Yeah sure,” Remus promised, wrecked by the pain in Sirius's voice. "We're both drunk, so... no worries...” "Still best mates?" Sirius asked. "Huh? Oh... yeah, course!" Sirius gave him a sad smile. “Cool." Fuck. "Cool..." Remus said quietly. "Okay, so I’m just gonna—well…” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder and slipped out of the bathroom like a shadow. “Moony okay?” James asked as the door closed. “Sure—fine, totally,” Sirius said. “Bastard’s—erm... He's just bent over the toilet. Nasty mess. Wouldn't go in if I were you.” “That doesn’t sound fine,” Lily said, and then there was a knock that made Remus flinch. “Remus, are you okay?” “I told you he’s fine, Evans!” Sirius said. "Remus? Do you need me to come in?" “No!" he said, hoarse. “Sirius' right, m’fine. Don't need any help, just—just stay where you are. I'll... be out in a sec.” “Alright. I'll be waiting for you though,” Lily said gently, and then the music got louder. "Ooh, Black—really? Turn it down before you wake up the whole bloody dorm!"