Sirius didn't usually think too much before knocking on someone's door.

Actually, if we're being honest, he rarely had to knock on any doors at all (he'd just walk into James' house entirely unannounced, most of the time).

Maybe that was why he was so nervous: his hands were not accustomed to knocking. It seems an easy thing, but when you're out of practice it probably isn't all that simple.

This was the reason he presented to himself. A man like him, well into adulthood at twenty-one years of age, would not allow for the fact that maybe - just maybe - he was nervous about meeting someone new.

Who got nervous about trifling things like that?

With this newfound belief in mind, Sirius stood a little straighter and, making a fist, knocked on the huge oak door. The sound echoed in his ears, then slipped away.

A servant-girl opened it, her dark face bored. "Yes, sir?"

"Good morning," he said, smiling sweetly. "I'm here to meet Remus Lupin?"

"You Sirius Black?"

"Yes."

She yelled over her shoulder. "Oi, Remmie?! That bloke's 'ere to see ya!"

There was a shuffle of feet from inside the hallway. "Yes, yes, I can hear you perfectly well," someone said, hidden by the door.

She snorted rudely, turning away into the house. "Lord knows how you can, what with all that racket you make."

The voice replied, closer now (but still out of sight), saying "Now there, Dorcas, what have we said about being blasphemous?"

The girl, Dorcas, grinned at Sirius, who was watching the exchange with raised eyebrows. "To only take His name when you're in the most filthy of situations."

"Good girl. Now, get out."

Giggling, she left, and the door was opened fully.

There were many stories about Remus Lupin. About his careful sculptures and clumsy paintings. His poetry was fragile with beauty, pleasant both to the ears and to the tongue. Whatever he couldn't express normally, he would allow to flood through his fingers in strands of inky perfection, staining paper and canvases alike.

But few spoke of his personal beauty. Of course, perhaps it was due to the fact that his masterpieces were all anyone really cared about, and he was therefore practically cast into their beautiful shadows.

Which was a shame, really. Particularly in the eyes of Sirius' Black, since he was certain he had never met a man more perfectly faced than at that precise moment when the door swung open.

Sirius felt his mouth fall open slightly. Something about those gentle amber eyes and the freckles decorating his skin twisted a nerve deep within Sirius' navel. The way his mop of brown hair drooped in tangled strands made Sirius long to run his fingers through them, then down past his cheek and onto those dry lips.

Lupin looked down at him (yes, down, Sirius was quite lacking in height), a sly grin adorning his lips. "So, you are the infamous Sirius Black."

Sirius swallowed. "And you are the even more infamous Remus Lupin."

A laugh. "Oh, I don't know about that. You seem to be known in every corner of Florence." The tall man moved aside, bowing Sirius into the house.

Smiling cheekily back, Sirius replied, "oh, but you, sir, are known in every corner of Italy."

"Perhaps, but I am sure we shall be able to bring your name up to the same pedestal soon enough."

"Only if I accept your proposal," Sirius pointed out, taking a seat in the drawing room. "I am merely here to see whether I wish to take you up on your offer, after all."

The other man chuckled, acquiescing. The glint in his eyes made Sirius' hairs stand on end under his silk sleeves.

The room they were in was very pleasant. Books lined the edges of it, their dark jackets even darker against the pale yellow of the walls. Delicate cotton curtains drifted down from the ceiling, sunlight falling through them and onto the wooden floorboards.

There was an organised chaos in the stacks of paper and frames that were scattered around on every bit of furniture. Drops of paint littered the floor, the walls, the sofa on which Sirius sat.

To him, whose living conditions were far from comfortable, this room was something out of a daydream.

"Your house seems very pleasant," Sirius said, resting his head in his palm.

"It isn't half bad. I apologise for the mess - but then again, 'tidying' is out of the question, so maybe my apology isn't valid."

Sirius smiled. "No need for it. It's better this way."

Remus looked at him, brow furrowed slightly. "I believe you are twenty-one years of age, yes?"

"That is correct."

The grin returned. "Excellent, we shall get along perfectly." Lupin poured out two glasses of wine, handing one to Sirius.

Sirius took it. "And how old are you?"

"Same as you."

Sirius blinked. "So much fame, so soon?"

"Fortune favours the bold. And if anything, darling, I am bold."

Remus sat down in front of him, leaning back into the couch. He considered the young man before him, who, although he seemed fairly confident, was also vaguely uncertain in these unfamiliar surroundings.

Sirius Black was a beautiful man. His eyes were a pale grey - an unusual thing to find in Italy. His cheekbones were high and there was a regal angle between his neck and jaw. Long black hair rested just above his shoulders. And his lips - they were soft, red from the wine, caught between perfect teeth.

A faint urge to touch him came over Remus. To see whether this perfection was confined only to his face or encompassed his entire being. Although, judging by what he could see from Sirius' clothing, the rest of him was just as wonderful.

"What do you think about?"

Remus shook himself. "I was considering whether I wanted to keep my proposal."

A pause. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, I'd only ever heard stories about you. If you remember, we both had to agree with this." Remus smiled serenely. "My decision was not yet final."

There was definite uncertainty now. "And what is your assessment of the situation?"

Taking a sip of wine, Remus grinned. "The people of Florence know what they're talking about, at any rate."

"So that would mean...?"

"Well, if you are willing to 'accept my proposal', as you put it, tomorrow at midday would be a good starting point."

Sirius stuttered for a moment, then smiled back. "Yes, that would be fine."

"Excellent. A toast to the future?"

"A toast to the future." With that, the two men downed the rest of their wine, sneaking sly glances at the other over the rims of their glasses.