Chapter Text
The sun is bright and high in the afternoon sky, beaming down and causing a light sheen of sweat to form against his temple. He wipes it away and shakes his head, shiny black hair falling in perfect waves against his shoulders.
Remus bites his tongue.
He opens the door to the cafe with a loud chuckle, a smooth and deep thing that Remus can hear from across the street. He smiles at Miss Martha as she walks through the door, all dimples and charm. His voice is deep and hoarse, a rhythmic sound that floats across the street and into Remus’ ears, settling somewhere deep in his ribs.
Remus grinds his teeth.
Caroline steps out of the cafe, a cheeky grin as she scans her eyes down his body. Black jeans that perfectly accentuate his ass and a leather jacket that fits snugly against his broad shoulders. He winks, wishes Caroline a good rest of her afternoon.
Remus’ left eye twitches.
He looks both ways on the sidewalk to see if anyone else is coming inside before heading in, the door closing behind him with a jingle of the bell and eliminating him from Remus’ line of sight.
Sirius Black.
Even his name is pretentious.
It’s a damn shame, really. Because Sirius is attractive, he’s nice, he’s friendly and neighborly, rich, smart, generous - and he’s a damn asshole.
In Remus’ humble opinion.
Sirius Black is a thorn in his side, existing in a manner that only intends to piss him off and scrape the skin off his fingers. He pokes him and prods him like he has extensive knowledge of Remus and Remus’ irritations. He steals Remus’ parking spots, he throws dog poop in Remus’ trash bins, he puts flyers up on Remus’ front door advertising event nights for the ‘Single and Lonely.’
Remus has endured three years of his behavior. He’d be willing to accept it, deal with it, make peace with the idea of Sirius as a town asshole. Every town has one - they ride loud motorcycles in the middle of the night and spend one too many hours at the town's dive bar.
But Sirius isn’t an asshole, at least to anyone who isn’t named Remus. Sirius holds doors open for little old ladies, he volunteers at local organizations, he mows and rakes and weeds people's yards out of the goodness of his heart. He lives and bleeds for the town of Godric’s Hollow - knows everyone and their children by name and greets them as if they’ve been best friends for years.
Remus would call it performative if he hadn’t been witness to it many times, Sirius Black and his charm and his inability to resist helping someone.
The dick.
He’s got the town wrapped around his pristine, perfectly manicured little finger - has them all fooled. Except he doesn’t have them fooled because Remus moved to Godric’s Hollow three years ago and Sirius has remained the kind-hearted, neighborly fellow he always has been - to everyone but Remus, who he despises. Or just dislikes, he’s not exactly clear on the terms.
Sirius Black is perhaps the nicest person in Godric’s Hollow, well revered by the people of the town and plays his role as the small-town celebrity very well. Everyone in town has a Sirius Black story - always an overwhelmingly positive or heroically admirable experience.
Alice Longbottom owns the bakery on Main Street only because Sirius loaned her the funds to buy the building. Molly Weasely can work at her old family grocery store because Sirius babysits her gaggle of children every Monday and Wednesday afternoon. Caradoc Dearborn gushes when he recounts the story of Sirius saving him from losing his job when Sirius changed his flat tire on the side of the interstate at 5AM. Miss Martha always sings his praise and tells a greatly detailed story about the time her kitten climbed her magnolia tree and Sirius, with his long legs, broad shoulders, and strong arms, climbed the tree and single-handedly rescued her poor, baby kitty.
Even Mary MacDonald, his best friend and reason he moved to Godric’s Hollow, has a happy Sirius Black Story. The damn traitor.
They all have a story and a praise and a ‘Oh, how great is he!’ anytime Sirius’ name is mentioned. The women of the town request his services for shrub trimming and flower planting, their husbands hardly raising a protest. The cashiers at Weasley’s bag his groceries extra slowly, chatting all about his newest projects and volunteer work. Marlene McKinnon, who owns the singular coffee shop in town, knows his coffee order by heart and usually forgets to charge him.
They trust him with their children and their cars and their landscaping. They call him if they’re in trouble, whatever it may be, because Sirius is dependable and trustworthy and helpful, and he doesn’t ask questions or for his bail money back.
They love him and they worship him. Considering all he does for the town and the people, Remus truly understands why everyone loves him so much. He has half-expected the citizens of Godric’s Hollow to erect a statue in his honor. During the local election last year, there was a question on the ballot about renaming the town Sirius Blackville.
Okay, there wasn’t. But he was sort of expecting it.
He would have voted no, for the record.
A gentle gust of wind flips the page in his book and Remus realizes he hadn’t actually been reading, only staring down at the page for the last ten minutes. He rubs his eyes, pretends he wasn’t distracted by the very thing that distracted him and focuses back on his book, some boring thing about historians and boats.
The wind carries the sound of a bell jingling as the door to MarBean’s opens, Sirius walking out carrying his and Miss Martha’s coffees, her arm tucked around Sirius’ as he helps guide her out of the cafe. Sirius chuckles at something she says, Remus can see the faint blush forming on her face, already heavy-handed with her blush. The door shuts and Sirius hands Miss Martha her coffee with a wink before sliding into the single picnic table outside of the cafe.
He glances, not stares, at Sirius as he digs through his bag and pulls out a book - Gone with the Wind.
Pretentious.
Sirius Black, who bleeds daisies and golden fucking retrievers, despises him, Remus Lupin. Sirius Black, who took Greggory Goyle under his wing and helped him change his life around after he tried to break into Sirius' house, despises Remus Lupin. Sirius Black, who volunteers at the library, the animal shelter, and the community garden, despises Remus Lupin.
Remus isn’t a bad person. He doesn’t rescue cats from trees and sometimes he judges old women for their makeup skills, but he isn’t a bad person. He occasionally remembers to hold doors open for others, he makes brief conversation with the cashiers at Weasley’s, and Marlene doesn’t remember his coffee order but she did call him Roman last time he went in so they’re certainly getting closer.
He pays his taxes and pays someone to mow his lawn at an appropriate time of day. He drops his pennies and quarters into tip jars. He doesn’t drive a loud and obnoxious vehicle or play loud and obnoxious music. He’s a respectable and upstanding citizen.
Why Sirius dislikes him is beyond him, and frankly, he doesn’t even care anymore. It’s out of his control and out of his mind.
Except that it’s unexplainable.
There should be logic behind dislike, reasons and circumstances and whys. Sirius has no whys! Remus didn’t do anything, he didn’t poison his punch or hit him with his car.
(He came close one time, but it was entirely accidental!)
(He didn’t even realize it was Sirius until after he had swerved and slammed his brakes.)
(He didn’t hit him!)
They’ve never gotten along, is the thing. Lily Evans, Remus’ best friend and next-door neighbor, had introduced them three years ago at a house party she and her husband, James Potter, were throwing.
Remus was new in town and eager to make more friends, Mary and Lily, James by extension, the only people he considered friends. Sirius was handsome and had a charming smile and a deep voice that made Remus’ knees weak. Lily and James were over-the-moon to introduce them, had talked Sirius up with high praises and glowing reviews. They were both adamant Sirius and Remus would click and become best friends, Lily even taking every chance she could to mention that Sirius was single and attractive.
But the conversation didn’t last long, each of them saying something that had upset the other. He has no recollection or interest in remembering what was said, but sometimes people just don’t get along - and this was one of those times.
Remus does remember looking him up-and-down and agreeing with Lily’s assessment, wondering if Godric’s Hollow had something in their water because he’d never seen anyone who looked like that before.
Sirius is other-worldly, in a way - with his pale skin, faint freckles, high cheekbones, and jawline that is just simply unfair. Remus was mesmerized at first glance. One look at his striking gray eyes and dimples and Remus was a goner. He’s still mesmerized now, to be fair. He understands the charm, the appeal, the interest. He knows why the old ladies of the town call Sirius up for help with their garden or moving a piece of furniture.
Over the years their bad initial meeting had turned into short remarks that had turned into ignoring each other that had turned into snide comments and doing things to intentionally piss each other off. He could just ask Sirius what this ordeal is between them, but that involves having a functional, adult conversation with Sirius. Something that hasn’t been done in almost three years.
So instead they just sort of orbit around each other and Remus doesn’t concern himself with it.
Sirius continues to act as if Remus personally killed his petunias and Remus continues to act as if Sirius is the biggest piece of shit on Earth.
Neither of which are true, of course, but the sentiment is still the same.
He’s not really bothered by it. Yeah, sure, he was attracted to Sirius the first time he saw him. And, yeah, sure, he’s not sure why Sirius dislikes him. And, okay, so Sirius seems to only dislike him, which makes it even more confusing.
But people can dislike people. It’s not illegal to dislike someone. And maybe it pisses him off a little bit that he’s seemingly the only person Sirius doesn’t like and he has no idea why.
But he doesn’t really mind. Nope, not at all.
Sirius Black can take his snotty, poncey, rich-boy attitude and stick it up his ass, for all he cares.
He flips the page in his book this time, having barely skimmed the words and retaining next-to-none of them. His concentration is lost, focused on someone across the street who would probably spit in his tea if given the opportunity. He’ll reread it later, when his mind is clear and sight is free of handsome men with irritating personalities.
“Remus!”
He looks up from his book to see Lily running his way, pushing a stroller with one hand, the cover drawn to block out the sunlight, and a pink Barbie leash wrapped around the other hand.
“Hey, Lils,” he slides his bookmark onto the page and shuts the book before dropping it next to him on the bench. A messy-haired toddler runs up to him and jumps on his lap with a giggle.
“Hi, Harry,” he groans as Harry knees him in his thigh trying to climb off of him. Lily pulls the shade of her stroller open and pulls out an oversized orange cat, plopping him down on Remus’ lap.
Remus gently rubs his head and smiles to himself when he starts purring. Lily yells at Harry to stop pulling before unsnapping the Barbie leash from his monkey-shaped harness, letting the kid free so he can run around the park. She sighs when he ignores the slides and monkey bars in favor of climbing up on her lap and yanking a handful of her hair.
“Don’t have children, Remus,” she groans as she pries his first from her hair. Harry giggles and yanks her hair again, stray strands of red hair wrapped around his chubby fingers.
“What about all the love and joy that they’re supposed to bring you?”
“Love and joy,” she scoffs. Harry giggles again and grabs another handful of her hair, a tight grip that Lily has to pry open before the kid makes a bald spot on the side of her head. “Harry tried to eat Allan’s tail this morning.”
“Tried to eat his tail?” He asks with a laugh.
“Yeah. He was just, you know, crawlin’ around and I took my eyes off him for a second, and next thing you know the cats screeching and jumping up to the fucking roof and the kid is screaming and crying. Think he’s got teeth marks on his tail now.”
Remus pets his hand down the cat till he reaches his tail, a small circle of fur missing at the tip of his fluffy orange tail. “Poor thing,” he hums, leaning down to drop a kiss on the cat's head.
“I hope by ‘poor thing’ you mean me. Because I’m the poor one here. Allan knocked all the picture frames off the wall in his terror and Harry cried so hard he shit on me.”
“Sounds like you had a good morning,” he says amused, Lily glaring at him and shaking her head. She pulls the stroller closer to her and digs in her bag to find a lollipop, Harry happily grabs it and switches between eating it and sticking it to his forehead.
Her denim overalls have a faint dusting of orange cat hair on them, something that Remus barely even notices now, his own clothes usually matching. She pries the sticky lollipop off Harry’s forehead and wipes the blue away with her thumb.
Remus met Lily on his first day in Godric’s Hollow. He was struggling to unload the boxes out of his moving van when she strolled up from the house across the street in a fluffy purple robe, bunny slippers, and a twenty-pound cat resting on her hip. She took one look at him in his sweaty Blondie t-shirt before yawning and turning on her heel to go back to her house.
Remus was offended at first, but she returned five minutes later with a giant man with messy hair and round glasses, who ended up unloading the rest of Remus’ van.
He’s loved her ever since.
“And to make everything so much better, my husband's boyfriend wants to spend the night,” she rolls her eyes fondly and runs a hand through Harry’s unruly hair. “And Sirius has the nerve to ask me to make them pizza for dinner. He steals my husband and sleeps in my bed - and then asks me to make him dinner.”
Harry sticks the lollipop to his forehead again, giggling as Lily tells him to knock it off or she’ll take it away. As much of an authoritarian as she pretends to be, Lily has never been skilled in the art of telling her only child no. So, the next time Harry removes the lollipop from his mouth he sticks it in his hair and Lily just sighs.
“But he’ll watch Harry for us tomorrow so it’s supposed to be worth it, or something,” she sighs, gently tugging at the lollipop stuck in Harry’s hair. “I don’t know, James can kick someone else in the shin for the night.”
“What an odd, happy family the four of you make,” he smiles.
“Yes. James, Harry, Allan, and I make a beautiful family.”
“Has Sirius been disowned?”
“My husband would sooner disown me, I think,” she mumbles, finally freeing the blue lollipop out of Harry’s hair, managing to only take a few strands of hair with it.
“And how is James?”
“Oh, probably off sweating somewhere. He ran fifteen miles this morning and hugged me after. Everybody said to marry a hot jock, but nobody warned me about the smell.”
“Romantic.”
“We’re doing dinner tonight. I know, I know,” Lily holds her hands up in surrender and lowers her voice to a terrible impression of Remus’, “‘It’s not fair my plans get changed just because Sirius needs to change his.’”
Remus stares at her, completely unimpressed. “That is not how I sound.”
“Sirius had a date or something tonight so we swapped family dinner. You get tonight and Sirius will get Sunday. And there will be no arguing because we cook and feed you when we could just let you starve.”
James and Lily plan weekly family dinners - Saturday for Sirius and Sunday for Remus. It started as a big group affair, but time has proven there is a need for separation.
James and Lily have conveniently started scheduling times to hang out that will put Sirius and Remus on opposite sides of town.
Sirius, being James’ best friend, is frequently at the Potter house, either babysitting or eating chips or playing video games with James.
Remus, being Lily’s best friend, is frequently at the Potter house, either babysitting or drinking wine or gossiping with Lily.
It’s made for awkward encounters, ones that James and Lily both politely ignore. Ones that Sirius starts and Remus returns. Or ones that Remus starts and Sirius returns. Some that both of them start, some that neither of them start but somehow seem to form anyway.
James and Lily declare themselves Switzerland and back out of the room, leaving Sirius and Remus to make childish comments about the other's shoes or life choices. It’s a tiring affair. A game of bickering that started sometime after months of ignoring each other. He can’t pinpoint a time or a reason, it’s just something that evolved over the years.
Remus opens his mouth, ready to argue, before snapping it shut and looking down at his hands. She is, unfortunately, right. But Remus would never admit that - it’ll go to her head and make her far more insufferable than she already is. “I wouldn’t starve,” he mumbles instead.
“When’s the last time you cooked?” She raises an eyebrow.
He hates it when Lily is right.
In his defense, Remus really has no reason to cook. The Potter family dinner is a weekly occurrence, James cooking intricate and delicious meals that Remus doesn’t even have to pay him for. Since the Potters live directly across the street and thankfully don’t want him to starve, family dinners usually happen more than once a week - or he’ll be given a casserole with incredibly specific and detailed instructions on how to put it in the oven, or lately, the microwave due that small little fire incident he had last month.
No matter what, there’s one day a week that the Potters will make a big family meal and invite him over. Remus always gets Sunday and Sirius always gets Saturday - except when Sirius has plans and makes Remus switch days.
Remus has plans (sometimes) and he doesn’t make anyone switch days. Because he’s nice.
“How’s the whole Sirius situation going, anyway?” Lily asks, a casual attempt that she totally fails at.
“What serious situation?” Remus feigns ignorance, faltering quickly under Lily’s demanding and knowing gaze. “Last weekend I was at Frankie’s and there was a pick-up order with Sirius’ name on it…and I took it.”
Lily snorts before trying to school her expression into one of disapproval. She fails, giggling as she asks, “Why would you do that?”
“Because he trimmed my bushes,” Remus mutters, his jaw set as he bites his cheek.
Lily’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as she tilts her head, “Is that a euphemism?”
“No,” Remus shakes his head. “He literally trimmed my bushes. Those giant flowering shrubs in my front yard,” he pauses as he waits for Lily to nod in understanding, “Yeah, he trimmed them. He was trimming all the neighbor's shrubbery so he decided to pop in and do mine.”
“Well, that’s awfully nice of him to do. Why does that have you so worked up? You hate trimming your bushes.”
“He shaped them into balls.”
“Into…”
“Balls, Lily. Giant testicular balls. He shaped my bushes into balls.”
“Oh, I’m sure he - ”
“There was no mistaking it. All it needed was a tree planted in the middle,” Remus scoffs.
“Come on, Remus, I’m - ”
Remus shushes her as he digs into his pocket to find his phone, scrolling through his photos to find the one of his beautiful bushes that Sirius butchered. He shows Lily, her eyes widening as she claps a hand over her mouth.
“Oh, those are balls,” she whispers as she grabs the phone and swipes through the pictures. “That must’ve taken ages.”
“He was out there for two hours shaping them. I didn’t even know. He knocked on my door when he was done, all humble and gracious and…sweaty.”
Lily bites her lip as she tries not to laugh. “Had to get that last one in, didn’t you?”
“I’m setting the scene,” Remus grumbles. “Anyway, point stands - he made my bushes balls so I stole his dinner.”
“You’re both so mature,” Lily muses. “For your tenth birthday do you want to go to Chuck-E-Cheese or Toys-R-Us?”
“Toys-R-Us is closed,” Remus sniffs. “I, once again, would just like to point out that he made my bushes into balls.”
“I happen to know you like balls,” Lily smirks. “Besides, I see it as a favor. You hate trimming your bushes and it needed to be done, so Sirius trimmed your bushes for you,” she snorts, the immature child.
“I had to redo them,” Remus says sternly. “Caroline showed up to my home to call me a degenerate and lecture me about the children. I had to borrow her shears and fix them while she watched.”
“Kinky,” she smirks.
“I had a rash,” he sneers. “I had to cover myself in cortisone cream for a week straight.”
“Not so kinky,” she frowns.
“Stealing his dinner should have been considered a kindness at that point. I should have done far worse, let me tell you.”
“Oh, God, please don’t,” Lily mumbles. Remus glances at her with narrow eyes and a pout. The sun hides behind a large and fluffy cloud, Remus welcoming the shade with open arms. He wipes at his forehead, a light layer of sweat forming. “Is Caroline satisfied with your bush trimming capabilities?”
“She better be,” he mumbles.
“Did you hear her daughter is getting divorced?” Lily smirks. Remus gasps, Lily nodding her head dramatically. “Mmhm, mmhm. Her husband was spotted coming out of a strip club over in Diagon. A male strip club.”
Remus gasps again, his eyes wide and a hand covering his mouth. “Marcus at a male strip club?”
“With an empty wallet…” she sings.
“Wow,” Remus mutters as he shakes his head in shock. He clears his throat, “You remember that barbecue Caroline had last spring?”
A look of puzzlement crosses her face before she nods slowly.
“He gave me his number.”
“No, he so totally did not!” She squeals, hitting Remus repeatedly in the arm.
Remus grabs her by the wrist and pushes her away. “He so totally did,” he laughs. “He said to use it in case of an ‘emergency.’”
Lily breathes out a puff of air, and holds her fingers up to her ear like a phone, “Yeah, 911 my dick is hard and I need you to fix it. What a loser.”
Remus hums, runs a hand down Allan’s back as the cat purrs. “Poor Melanie though. I mentioned it to her at the barbecue, real casual, you know? I don’t think she believed me.”
“Bet she does now,” Lily snorts. “What a mess.”
“What would you do if James ever went to a male strip club?”
“You say that as if James hasn’t been to one.”
Remus looks at her with wide eyes and a cheeky grin, “James Potter has gone to a male strip club?”
“His best friend is Sirius, of course he’s been to a male strip club. He and Sirius practically single-handedly funded the one over in Hogsmede before Harry was born.”
“Your relationship is so interesting.”
Lily waves a dismissive hand, “After ten years and a baby it’s just easier to not care.”
“To not care if your husband goes to strip clubs?”
“Yup,” she says, popping the ‘p.’ “He’s still coming back home to me.”
“And Harry.”
“Please,” Lily scoffs, glancing down briefly at Harry, who is joyfully ripping handfuls of grass out of the ground. “Harry isn’t aware enough to understand this, but James would come home faster to a freshly baked loaf of bread than he would to our screaming, crying, shitting child.”
Harry giggles at the mention of his name and throws a handful of grass at Lily, pieces landing in her hair and on her clothes. Lily picks pieces off and flicks them at Remus, mumbling under her breath about how she’d sooner come home to a tarantula.
A piece of grass lies perfectly in the center of Lily’s forehead, Remus reaching out to pick it off. She shakes her hair, sending loose pieces of grass flying through the air and toward Remus.
“Hey, you know how I said I’d babysit on Wednesday?” He asks, Lily nods as she digs a piece of grass out of her bra. “Yeah, I won’t be doing that anymore.”
“Remus!” She groans, flicking her bra grass toward his face. “He’s really not that bad. He’s just in his terrible threes.”
“Terrible twos.”
“Yes, well he’s a very advanced child so he’s continued that into his three’s.”
Remus rolls his eyes and leans down to ruffle Harry’s hair, pieces of grass spawning out of nowhere as he does it. The kid giggles and holds a blade of grass out in his palm as an offering, Remus accepting it with a soft thank you.
“What about Allan? Can’t I just watch Allan?” He asks, twirling the blade of grass between his fingers.
“No, Allan is a cat.”
“But he’s so much easier,” he groans. The cat meows and nudges his head against Remus’ stomach. Harry giggles and reaches out to try and yank Allan’s tail, Lily grabbing him by the wrist before he has the chance. The child bursts into a ferocious sob.
Lily tries to calm him down, holding him tight to her chest and gently swaying him, but Harry just starts screaming louder. She hums softly and runs a soothing hand down his back as Harry throws his arms and legs around and screams at a decibel so high only birds can hear.
The squirrels are running for the hills and the birds are fleeing for higher ground as Harry screams and screams, somehow managing to get even louder than at the beginning of his tantrum. People walk by and send glances of disapproval, clearly upset that their afternoon park visit is being ruined by the ferocious screams of a dramatic three-year-old.
Lily keeps swaying him side to side, failing miserably at calming him down, before passing him to Remus, the child crying louder and kicking Remus hard in his stomach. Remus instantly passes him back to Lily, who looks like she’s on the verge of crying her own ferocious sobs.
“I’d recognize those wails anywhere,” a smooth voice calls out over the screaming child. Remus looks over and locks eyes with Sirius, who is already frowning at him. Sirius blinks and focuses back on Harry, grabbing him from Lily’s arms and gently bouncing him on his hip. “Shh, shh. That’s it, little one.”
Harry quiets down, with exhausted breaths and a bubble of snot forming at his little nose. Sirius whispers reassurances as he runs a gentle hand through his hair. Harry falls asleep almost instantly, his head resting against Sirius’ shoulder and a small puddle of drool forming against his black t-shirt.
“I hate you,” Lily whispers. Sirius grins. “Steal my husband, my child. Next you’ll come for my cat.”
“I hate cats,” Sirius whispers. “Get a dog and I’ll take him too.”
“You are the dog,” Lily rolls her eyes as she picks Allan up and puts him back in his pet stroller, closing the shade again so the cat won’t be bothered by the bright sun. Remus watches as she and Sirius awkwardly attempt to transfer the sleeping toddler to Lily’s arms without waking him. Once Harry is safely wrapped around her chest, Lily waves goodbye without another word, leaving Remus and Sirius awkwardly watching after her.
“So, tell me, what exactly did you do to make the poor baby cry?”
“Well, Sirius, he is a baby and sometimes babies do that. I would have thought you’d be familiar with the concept.”
“Are you calling me baby?” Sirius smirks.
“A baby. Semantics.”
“Gesundheit. You know, people don’t appreciate it when you terrorize children, Remus.”
“And I’m sure you are familiar with the concept of terrorizing,” Remus huffs.
“Well, I’ve had the privilege of knowing you for the past three years so I’ve gotten experience with the concept, yes.”
“Explain to me how exactly I’ve terrorized you.”
“Where should I begin? It must have begun sometime around May, about three years ago…”
“So my presence has terrorized you the moment I moved here, but yet you can’t name a single actual reason as to why.”
“Well, this conversation, for one.”
“You started it, for one.”
Sirius continues, ignoring him, “My newspaper went missing two Tuesdays ago, the week it has all the coupons, and I have good reason to think it was you who stole it, for two.”
“Why the Hell would I steal your newspaper?”
Remus stole his newspaper.
“I don’t know, Remus, why would you steal my newspaper?”
“Arts and crafts, perhaps?”
Because he had been walking in his yard that morning and stepped in dog shit, that he just knows belongs to one of the dogs that Sirius walks every morning.
“You’re not much of a crafty fella, are you?” Sirius smirks.
“Well, if I had two newspapers maybe I would be.”
“I want my coupons back.”
“Contact the county.”
“I’ll report you.”
“To who? The newspaper's fraud agency? Good luck with that.”
“Stealing someone’s mail is fraud, Remus.”
“It’s a good thing me potentially committing one act of newspaper theft won’t land me a twelve-year jail sentence, Sirius.”
Remus had Googled it - he should be in the clear as a first-time offender of mail theft.
“No, that would be your irritating personality.”
“Well then, I’ll see you in jail.”
“I don’t want to see you anywhere at all, ever.”
“Feeling is colossally and deeply mutual.”
Sirius tilts his head to the side and huffs, “Did you stick a thesaurus up your ass this morning or are you just like that?”
“I can’t remember, want to check? Maybe you’ll find your humility up there too.”
“Oh, so the asshole has a giant asshole? Big shocker.”
“I’ll alert the press. And when they ask I’ll be sure to compare it to the size of your head.”
“And they’ll include that in the article, of course, because no one would buy it unless it mentions me.”
“And if they ask for proof, I’ll use that as my evidence,” Remus huffs.
“Your singular testimony will really sway the minds of the people.”
“Who said I’d be alone?”
“Probably your bed every night.”
“Well, you can change that,” Remus says with a smirk.
“Just because it happens in your imagination doesn’t change the fact that you’re still alone.”
“Have to tell that to yourself often?”
“My visitors aren’t imaginations.”
“Is that what they tell you?”
Sirius smiles slowly. It’s his mean smile.
Remus is the only known recipient of it.
“Remus.”
“Sirius.”
Sirius turns and leaves without another word, the wind blowing through his long black hair so artistically you’d think Remus imagined it. He reaches back for his book and flips it open, pretends to look at it, his eyes betraying him and fleeting to the spot across the street where he knows Sirius will be straddling his motorcycle. Historians and boats be damned, then.
Remus sniffs and adjusts how he's sitting, conveniently facing himself so he has a better view of Sirius and his tight jeans and impeccable ass. Sirius ties his hair up before he starts fiddling with his helmet. Remus hears the sound of the motorcycle engine roaring to life and tries to convince himself to look away, but Sirius is stretching his arms and he can see a small sliver of skin above the waistband of his jeans.
Sirius’ head snaps up and he stares in Remus’ direction. If his face wasn’t completely covered by his helmet, Remus would have half a mind to think Sirius is staring directly at him. An eternity passes before the motorcycle roars again and Sirius is off, only a cloud of smoke left behind him.
Remus shuts his book with a dramatic clap and gets up from the bench, his easy and peaceful afternoon of reading ruined. He texts Mary back, agreeing to meet her for lunch tomorrow, before leaving the park and walking back home, his mind reeling on one singular thought.
He replays the conversation in his head, comes up with better comments and smarter remarks, internally chastising himself for even getting in the conversation in the first place. He should’ve ran the moment he saw Sirius, followed the squirrels and the birds and took off in a run.
(Remus doesn’t run.)
Nothing good comes from a conversation with Sirius. Only shame and frustration and regret - something Remus thinks he should only feel after a night of drinking wine and wallowing in his own self-misery.
The air is hot and humid, a heavy pressure on Remus’ skin that makes him more irritable than usual. He’s relieved when he gets home, welcomes the cooling presence of his air conditioning.
Clothes pile on his floor as he tears them off and changes into sweats, too tired to throw them in the laundry and too sweaty to hang them back up. He hums to himself as he heads to his living room, stopping dead in his tracks at the person already sitting on it.
“Jesus Christ, Mar,” he gasps, a hand to his heart as it beats frantically in terror. He’s not ordinarily afraid of someone who stands only an inch over five feet, but he is frequently scared by his refrigerator making ice in the middle of the night. “What the Hell? What are you doing here?”
Mary laughs and pulls her legs up on the couch, folding them underneath herself. “I was bored. And Emmeline was busy.”
“Oh, so I’m your second choice? Great,” he scoffs. “I gave you a key for emergencies, you know.”
“I. Was. Bored,” she emphasizes. “Where were you?”
“The. Park,” he says, plopping himself next to her on the couch.
“I was lonesome and bored because you wanted to go read your sad indie book at the park?”
“Yes.”
“Your Netflix subscription expired, by the way,” she says as she turns the television on. “I was in the middle of watching Grey's Anatomy.”
“I’m doing you a favor, then.”
“Ha ha,” she mocks. She puts on some lousy home renovation show, some couple that likes to demolish homes and turn them into grey showrooms.
“How is Emmeline?” Remus asks, an air of casualness that he fails at.
“Fine,” Mary mumbles, toying with the edge of the blanket on her lap. “Busy with work.”
“Work…and Daniel?”
“Yes, well. That too.”
“Have you - ”
“How’s Sirius?”
Remus blinks, glances at the television to see the couple purchasing grey vinyl floors that are ‘just perfect’ for their renovation. “I don’t…I don’t know.”
“Okay.”
“Why are you asking?”
“Just curious.”
Remus clears his throat, “I saw Emmeline yesterday at Weasley’s.”
“People do tend to grocery shop there.”
“She was wearing an engagement ring, Mar.”
Mary’s fingers stop twisting in the blanket, her whole body stilling. She takes a deep breath and glances up at him with a small and sad smile. She already knew.
The renovation couple on TV knock out a wall separating the living room and the kitchen before deciding they should paint the kitchen cabinets white.
“I hate them,” Remus mumbles, Mary nods in agreement and turns the volume up.