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Summary
When Remus Lupin finally kissed Sirius Black, it was inevitable. It was a fixed point in the history of the world, that Remus had seen crashing towards him, if he was being honest, since he took his seat at the Gryffindor table. Fated. Like the Titanic, or the Hindenburg disaster.
When Remus Lupin kissed Regulus Black, he hadn’t seen it coming. But if he couldn’t have Sirius, he could have this moment in the dark. Fingers clawing through long black hair, open mouth hungry against ivory skin. In the half light he was almost the right boy.