Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

Chapter Text

The rain is an annoying presence tapping against his windows and his roof, a frustrating reminder that it’s 4AM and Remus is wide awake and staring at his ceiling fan. He had finally fallen asleep sometime around midnight, only to be awoken a couple hours later by the sound of thunder cracking. His brain hasn’t shut off since, running through emails he needs to send and hundreds of other things he still hasn’t done this week.

He’s tried counting sheep and naming vegetables alphabetically, but eventually rhubarb leads into send Janet an email to ask about a new publication date. Two hours and a thousand turns of his ceiling fan later, he gives up and shuffles into his bathroom.

The reflection staring back at him is dull and lifeless, bags under his eyes so dark that he almost wonders if he punched himself in his sleep. A shower doesn’t help, only makes his hair all droopy and pathetic-looking. He tries to run a comb through it but gives up at the first sign of resistance - his curls have always been his enemy. Mary has tried her best to help him, but his stubborn personality doesn’t mesh well with a new routine.

If he listened to her and properly cared for them with creams and mousses and oils it’d look much better, but he reckons having horrible hair helps add to his charm.

He dresses in his usual work attire, a pair of black joggers that his mom bought him four Christmass’ ago, now loose and frayed at the edges, and a big grey Philadelphia Eagles crewneck that he stole from his dad. He doesn’t understand sports, but he does understand comfort and the worn material of the old sweatshirt is the most comfortable price of clothing he owns. (Does he own it if he stole it?)

His favorite thing about working from home has to be the ability to wear pajamas for a uniform. He’s worked at MadEye Moods, a publishing company based out of the city, for several years now, finally using up his good work ethic and seniority to convince his sort of psycho boss, Alastor Moody, to allow him to work from home. The second Moody agreed Remus was subleasing his New York City apartment and booking a one-way plane ticket to Connecticut, the same town where his childhood best friend was now living.

Mary was his only friend throughout school, from kindergarten to college. They lived in the city together for several years before Mary decided to ditch the fast life and moved to God Knows Where Connecticut. Remus was pissed at first, refusing to speak to her for several weeks.

Once he’d gotten the stick out of his ass (according to Mary) he visited her and fell in love with the town. He moved a year later, bought a house with a big porch and fenced backyard, all bushes and shrubbery and trees and petunias. He hasn’t looked back since, despite his initial anxiety regarding the change from a bustling city to a small town with a single grocery store, but he’s fallen into place here, quickly becoming friends with his neighbors, (James and Lily) pseudo-enemies with their best friend, (Sirius) and casual acquaintances with everyone else.

He’s acclimated well, he thinks. He offers eggs and sugar to neighbors in need and he raked the leaves out of Miss Martha’s lawn last fall.

Mary had spent Saturday night with him, claiming sleep deprivation from the continuous hours of HGTV they watched, but Remus can read her like an open book and knew she just didn’t want to go home alone. She’d stayed over all day Sunday, cooking him spaghetti and an easy-to-warm-up casserole, before going home in the evening since she had an early client Monday morning.

Almost a week later and his pillows still have a faint vanilla scent on them, one he always associates with Mary and her copious amount of hair products. Mary refuses to sleep in his guest room, claiming she is not a guest and refuses to be treated as such. Instead, she steals half of Remus’ bed and terrorizes him by kicking him in the shins all night.

He’s still got a bruise on his left calf.

He kicks his shoes on, quickly tying the laces and grabbing his keys before leaving. Not bothering to lock his front door is another small-town quirk that he’s not quite used to, but he’s come to appreciate it when his hands are full and he doesn’t have to worry about fussing with his keys.

It’s still early, only 7:30 in the morning, the sun has only just risen so the air still feels wet with a crisp morning chill. The grass and plants are all dewy, tiny drops of rainwater glistening on the leaves and getting Remus’ shoes all wet.

Godric’s Hollow has a single coffee shop, MarBean’s. Remus has tried for years to learn how to make coffee at home, but nothing has ever come close to an overpriced barista-made coffee. He spent four-hundred-and-something dollars on an espresso machine last year and he swears he can hear it laughing at him from where it collects dust on his kitchen counter. He used it to make a latte once and it tasted like dirt.

He hasn’t used it since, but can’t find it in himself to get rid of it.

Marlene McKinnon owns the coffee shop, a small building on Main Street that gets an unbelievable amount of foot traffic. Remus met her on one of his first days in town, a little perplexed to have met someone so cold and short in a town full of friendly strangers.

Three years later and she is still kind of rude and blunt, but sometimes Remus appreciates her honesty. Of course, that can be hard when she points out a hole in his t-shirt or tells him he needs a new conditioner for his hair.

Everyone he’d met that first month had been overly friendly, not quite used to a new person moving into their small town. Remus had been given casseroles and flower bouquets and gift baskets for a month straight. People would pop by his house and knock on his front door, claiming they had to see if the news was true and if there was finally someone new in town.

Marlene had stared at him with bored eyes the first time he went up to the counter to order. He had asked what the local favorite was.

She said a black coffee.

Remus didn’t know if he should be offended. But Marlene makes an excellent iced mocha so he goes back. He also doesn’t have any other choice.

It’s sort of part of Marlene’s charm, though. Her wife, Dorcas Meadows, is much nicer, to the point that Remus considers her a friend. She occasionally helps out at the cafe, but she owns an art gallery in the same strip as the coffee shop, selling local artists' different works and creations.

Remus puts on his headphones and shuffles his playlist before starting his walk. Unfortunately for him, Godric’s Hollow is full of friendly early risers, so he has to politely wave to his neighbors during his short walk to the coffee shop.

He has to stop for a couple of minutes to chat with Miss Martha about her Yorkie, Pinky, who apparently has crystals in his bladder. Remus wishes her and Pinky well, promising he’ll keep them in his thoughts during this terribly difficult time.

And Mr. Fredrick, an old man with a bad hip and even worse breath, waves him over because he needs help reaching a hammer off the top shelf of his workbench. Remus privately thinks that Mr. Fredrick should not be using a hammer with his shaky hands and blurry vision, wonders what on Earth an eighty-eight-year-old man even needs a hammer for, but doesn’t question it more when Mr. Fredrick mumbles on and on about ‘those damn squirrels.’

Remus leaves as quickly as he can.

He checks the time and realizes he should make it to MarBean’s just before the usual morning rush, his unplanned stops only delaying him a couple of minutes. The coffee shop is located at the perfect spot in town, catching the early-morning retirees and those heading off to work. Remus has learned through trial-and-error that it’s best to just get up early and make it there before eight, otherwise the line wraps out the door and around the building.

The neighborly tendencies of Godric’s Hollow don’t stop at your actual neighbors - the town prides itself on taking care of its local business owners. Remus almost thought he was going to be shunned and kicked out when he asked Lily where the nearest Target was. Everything in town is locally owned, from the Weasley family’s market to Fabian’s bar to Marlene’s cafe to Alice’s bakery to Dorcas’ art gallery.

He enters the shop, a small crowd in line and the few tables already filled up, and makes his way to the counter. One of the people in line is Barty Crouch, who always has an incredibly pretentious and detailed order, half pumps and skim milk and specific temperatures and exactly five shakes of cinnamon powder and shaken, not stirred. The bell above the door jingles a couple of times while he waits, Remus distantly feeling the presence of people joining in line behind him.

A few moments and Barty Crouch is still ordering, Remus hears the sounds of footsteps from almost half the town piling into the tiny coffee shop behind him. He briefly glances over his shoulder to see the line starting to weave all the way out of the building. Remus pulls his phone out and scrolls through a few of his work emails while he waits, Barty still ordering his ridiculous drink.

He’s deleting a spam email when he sees the feet of the person in front of him moving up the line. He’s just about to move when the person behind him clears his throat, “Pay attention and keep the line moving, would you?”

Remus blinks and looks up from his phone. He takes a step forward and turns over his shoulder, ready to defend himself from the decaffeinated freak behind him. His smile drops when he realizes who it is.

“Of course,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Not a morning person?” Sirius smirks. “I can tell.”

Remus has to force himself to pretend like he thinks Sirius doesn’t look like a morning person either. “Thank you for that assessment.”

“You’re welcome. Hey, you’re friends with Mary, right?”

Remus tilts his head to the side, confused at the abrupt change in conversation. “Yeah?”

“Has she ever told you about something called curl cream?”

“Okay - ”

“You just need a quarter-size amount. It does wonders, really.”

“Yeah, I’ll look into it, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You can’t be friends with a hairdresser and have hair that looks like that, Remus.”

“I don’t think it works that way, Sirius.”

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure it does. The line is moving.”

Remus takes a step without looking, bumping straight into the back of Julie Conway, who glares at him with an impressive level of contempt. He apologizes profusely, her level of frustration growing clearer as he goes on.

“Good morning, Sirius,” she cuts him off as she smiles, her eyes looking somewhere behind Remus. She looks back at Remus and glares before turning around with a flip of her blonde hair and an audible scoff.

He takes a deep breath and looks back to Sirius, who’s clearly biting his lip to hold back a laugh. He can’t even lie to himself, Sirius is a morning person. Somehow his hair looks fluffier and his eyes look brighter.

Sirius gestures to the line of people behind him, “There’s about thirty people behind me who want their coffee, Remus. It’s rude to keep them waiting.”

“I’m not the one making the coffee.”

“Are you insinuating that Marlene isn’t doing a good job at her own cafe?”

“So, you’re really bad at comprehension. Guess I can add that to the list.”

Sirius smiles, a glowing thing that brightens the whole room. “You’ve got a list?”

“Yeah, ego is somewhere around number five.”

“Well, Remus, you’d have a pretty big ego if someone said they have a list about you. Do you have it written down in your diary? Do you draw little hearts with glitter pens? Write Mr. Remus Black all over it?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“You’d be one of many, of course,” Sirius sighs longingly. “But maybe yours will be the manifestation that actually comes true.”

“If my manifestations came true, I wouldn’t be wasting them on you.”

“Bigger dick?” He smirks.

Remus shakes his head and looks down at his shoes before focusing his eyes on Sirius, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He has the sudden realization of how close he’s standing to Sirius - far closer than they should be. He thinks that must be why he can hear the quietest of breaths that Sirius lets out, notices how Sirius’ smile falters for just a moment, his eyes growing wider and his jaw briefly clenching.

Sirius clears his throat, “We’re moving.”

Remus doesn’t move this time, keeping his eyes trained on Sirius, who’s now looking up at him with a grin. He’s got the faintest blush on his cheeks that’s probably only noticeable because Remus is staring.

“Hey!” Marlene’s irritated voice echoes through the shop, halting Remus’ thoughts. He turns around to see her glaring at him, Julie Conway done ordering her low-fat latte and he's now next in line.

Okay, maybe Sirius wasn’t lying this time.

“Sorry,” Remus smiles sheepishly and walks up to the counter. “How are you today?”

“What do you want?” Marlene asks harshly, her hand already reaching to grab a cup.

Remus blinks, “Iced mocha, please. Medium.”

“$3.50.” Marlene grabs a marker and starts writing on the cup while Remus reaches into his pocket to grab his wallet. He finds his keys and his headphones, a napkin, and a Frankie’s receipt from last week.

Fuck.

“$3.50,” Marlene repeats impatiently.

Remus checks his pants pockets - empty. It’s gotta be here. He knows he grabbed it. When he grabbed his phone and his keys, he grabbed his wallet - like he always does. Except maybe he didn’t…

“Dude, are you going to pay?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he mutters, now checking the pocket inside his jacket. “I think I forgot my wallet.”

“That’s great. Can you pay or not?”

“Not,” he sighs, giving up his search and looking back at the long line behind him. “Can I come back and pay for it tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Come on, Marlene. I’m here all the time.”

“No.”

“I’ll give you twenty bucks tomorrow.”

“Next!” She yells. Remus groans and moves off to the side and out of the line. He weighs the pros and cons of texting Dorcas, she’d let him pay tomorrow - but he may not live to see tomorrow if he does that, Marlene will personally seek him out and kill him.

He can hear Sirius laughing under his breath. “Good morning, Marlene,” Sirius greets her. “How are you on this beautiful Friday morning?”

Remus rolls his eyes as he checks his jacket pockets again. He knows he grabbed his wallet. He’s pretty sure of it. He probably did.

He only got four hours of sleep so he probably didn’t.

He checks his pocket one last time, for once hoping that Sirius was right and his manifestation skills were improving, but unfortunately, Remus will not be getting a bigger dick or his coffee this morning.

He’s taken out of his thoughts when Sirius clears his throat and speaks loudly so the whole building can hear him, “And, Marlene, I’d love to pay for the drinks of everyone who is currently in line behind me, stopping with Frank back there in the blue hat.”

Remus grinds his teeth and takes a deep breath, trying to remember those meditation practices his mother taught him all those years ago. A triangle turns into a square that turns into a circle that turns into him using his fists to hit something.

He’ll need some practice.

“How very generous of you, Sirius,” a woman in line gushes.

“Isn’t he just such a stand-up guy?” Another one whispers to her friend. Her friend nods in agreement, whispering something back about how his ass looks wonderful in jeans, too.

Remus leaves the cafe in a rush, maneuvering past the thirty-something people in line all busy singing Sirius’ praise, his head now pounding and decaffeinated. His walk home is long and miserable and he wishes he could blame Sirius for it but rationality has always been one of his strong-suits, so instead he wallows in his own self-misery.

And sends up a secret prayer that Sirius eats a bug next time he rides that stupid motorcycle of his.

***

He works away the morning, responding to boring emails and answering ridiculous calls from his insane boss, before pulling himself away from his computer when he hears a knock at his door and the distinct sound of it opening and closing. While many would be concerned they’re getting robbed or serial killed, Remus knows very well that his robber is a certain 5 '8 ginger with a massive cat with fur that matches her hair.

“I come bearing gifts,” she yells once she’s in his house. He abandons his computer and emails, deciding he’ll take an early lunch and deal with the consequences later. Lily is already sitting on the far end of his couch when he exits his office, Allan taking his spot atop his dining table.

Lily sets an iced coffee cup on his table and pulls her legs up underneath her with a sigh. Remus eyes the coffee, the large pile of whipped cream and chocolate drizzle. Lily snorts and pushes the coffee his way, gesturing to her own cup in her hands. He takes it gratefully, relishes in his giant sip full of chocolate sauce that clogs the straw. Lily watches him in amusement, making herself at home as she digs around for her favorite blanket.

“I heard about this morning,” she says, a knit green blanket now resting over her lap.

Remus leans against the wall and shrugs, very casually. “What about it?”

“That Sirius bought drinks for everyone.”

“Nothing special there, right? This is the same Sirius that bought lunch for everyone at that fundraiser a couple of months ago.”

He had to hear about that pleasantry for almost two months until people moved on to Sirius’ next heroic act - saving old Glenda Calvin’s kitty from an oak tree.

“So, it was a matter of coincidence that he wouldn’t buy yours?”

“Nobody has to buy me a drink.” Remus sits down next to her on the couch and Allan abandons his perch on the dining table to run into the living room and jump into his lap. Remus runs his hands down his back and smiles as he purrs.

“Especially considering you forgot your wallet at home?”

“That was my own fault,” Remus grits out.

“You’re being awfully mature,” she narrows her eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Not everything needs to be an argument.”

“It does when it comes to Sirius. I seem to remember the almost hour-long rant you went on last week when Sirius stole your parking spot.”

“Just because he has a motorcycle and can weave around all the other cars, does not mean he should,” Remus complains. “I was already there! I had my blinker on and everything, like a polite person.”

“It was a parking spot, Rem…”

“It was mine! I had been waiting for it and he, what, just gets to swoop in and take it? That’s not how that works!”

“See what I mean!” Lily laughs. “You’re getting worked up over a parking spot, but not the coffee this morning?”

“I haven’t had time to process it,” he mumbles.

“Yes, you have.”

“He’s a fucking dick and I hate him.”

Lily laughs so loud it startles the cat off of his lap, the pads of his feet making an adorable tapping sound on the hardwood as he scurries away and into Remus’ bedroom. Now his pillows will smell like Mary and cat.

Lily throws her head back against the couch and turns to face him. “Do you think he feels the same way?”

“I don’t care to know what he thinks. Frankly, I’m not sure he even does think.”

“You so totally care what he thinks.”

“I so do not. His opinion is irrelevant to me.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, babe.” Lily shifts how she's sitting on the couch and throws her legs on his lap. She leans her head back and stares up at the ceiling. “You know, Sirius won’t even tell us why you guys don’t get along. Even James - and he told James about the time he got sucked off behind a Taco Bell.”

Remus ignores the first part of that sentence, deciding that it’s completely unimportant and insignificant that Sirius won’t even explain himself to James, of all people.“And James told you?”

“No, no,” Lily sighs. “Sirius told James while James was showering. With me. No boundaries, them.”

“Why would he choose that moment?” Remus asks with a small laugh.

“Sirius can’t keep anything to himself. Especially his…extracurricular endeavors. He doesn’t even go to his house the morning after - straight to ours to tell us how big it was or where he put it.”

Remus scrunches his nose in disgust before gasping, “Wait, so this was recent?!”

“Shit.”

“Sirius Black, in his late twenties, got sucked off behind a Taco Bell?”

“No.” Ten seconds pass. “Yes.”

Remus barks out a laugh.

“God, he’ll kill me if he knows I told you,” she giggles. “Tells me all about how many fingers Fabian uses but can’t tell me what his problem is with you.”

“Oh, god! Lily,” he groans.

“Prude!” She jabs her fingers into his ribs, laughing so her hard her face flushes red.

Remus rolls his eyes and pushes her away, deciding to make a conscious effort to divert the conversation to…safer territory. “When he decides to tell you, do let me know.”

“You’ll be second to know,” she smiles.

“Who’ll be first?”

“Miss Martha. You know, she thinks you guys should hook up.”

“Miss Martha is delusional.”

“No, no. I think she has a point. We talked about it, you know? She thinks there’s pent-up sexual tension between the two of you.”

“Miss Martha wouldn’t know sexual tension if it hit her in the face with a brick.”

“Remus!” She laughs. “Miss Martha is a sensual woman.”

“She’s, like, ninety.”

“She’s seventy-one. And you know as well as I that her ‘roommate’ is no ordinary roommate.”

“She’s magical?” He gasps.

Lily reaches behind her to grab a decorative pillow and throws it at him. “She’s a lesbian!”

“Miss Martha is not a lesbian!”

“She so is!”

“She had a husband!”

“Had!”

“He died!”

“Under suspicious circumstances! Remus, come on, don’t tell me you can’t see it.”

“You read too much.”

Lily kicks her heel into his thigh and laughs when he groans in pain. She jabs her heel in the same spot, Remus grabbing her by the ankle and pushing her leg away.

“You know,” he starts, adjusting how he’s sitting and briefly weighing the pros and cons of what he’s about to say. “Mary thinks there’s pent-up sexual tension too.”

“Ah ha!” Lily yells with an accusatory finger. “Lesbians always know!”

“Please! Mary doesn’t know a thing. We’re talking about the woman who is in love with her engaged neighbor.”

“You know how lesbians are, Remus,” she says with a disappointed click of her tongue. “Send her my well wishes, by the way. I saw Emmeline at Fabian’s the other night with that honker of a diamond on her ring finger.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Maybe lesbians don’t always know.”

“I give it a month,” Lily shrugs. “She’ll make the first wedding plan and suddenly it’ll feel like she’s jumped into a winter puddle.”

Remus raises his eyebrow in question.

“Cold feet,” she answers with a huff. Allan saunters into the room once they quiet down, jumping on the couch to sit in his lap again. Remus runs his hand down his back as he stretches with a big yawn. Allan makes a circle on his lap, deciding Lily’s legs are in his way with a quick throw of his paw, a giant red scratch forms on Lily’s ankle.

“My own cat,” she mumbles, lifting her feet off Remus’ lap. “My husband and child prefer the dog that practically lives in my guest room and my cat prefers you. It isn’t fair.”

Remus scratches at Allan’s head. “Aw, I like you, Lils.”

“Yeah, lotta good that does me,” she scoffs.

Remus ignores her, taking another sip of his oversweet coffee before clearing his throat, “Speaking of Sirius, my boss wants to speak with him about setting an event up at the library. Any help getting me his phone number or email? I’ve called the library a million times and no one answers.”

“Oh, yeah, Sirius hates answering the library phone,” she laughs. She lowers her voice to an impressive impression of Sirius, “Bunch of ‘fucking idiots’ looking for books they ‘can’t be bothered to remember the name of.’ Here, give me a piece of paper and I’ll write them down. What kind of event does he want to throw?”

Lily leaves an hour later, taking her attitude and half-drank coffee with her. She leaves Allan, claiming the traitor will come crawling back to her sooner or later. So far Allan hasn’t left Remus’ lap, but he won’t tell her that.

He finishes work, which is a total drag, and watches the terrible HGTV show while texting Mary about all of their atrocious decisions, including a frustrated voice note when they clear out a beautiful, luscious, blooming garden to put in a concrete slab called a patio.

Mary: we should sue them

Mary: there’s gotta be grounds for emotional distress

Mary: via HGTV

Mary: caradoc is a lawyer, let’s call him?

Remus: caradoc is a shit lawyer.

Remus: we’ll probably end up owing HGTV money if we used him.

Mary: good point

Mary: especially since he’s all heartbroken now

Mary: after the benjy breakup

Mary: what a shit show, btw

Mary: talk about dramaaaaaaa

Mary: i sort of love it

Mary: just saying

Mary: omg did they just put green carpet in that room uugghhhhhh

Mary: i can’t decide what side i’m on tho

Mary: on one hand

Mary: ewwwww caradoc

Mary: on the other hand

Mary: whhhhyyyyy benjy

Mary: em and i were talking about it yesterday

Mary: whoooowwwweeeee

Remus: you spoke with em yesterday?

Remus: turn your read receipts off if you’re going to ignore me.

Mary: hate u

Mary: mean it

Mary: yes i spoke with her

Mary: she lives next door to me and we’re friends

Mary: am i just supposed to ignore her?

Mary: i tried that with you and it didn’t work

Mary: you followed me to connecticut

Mary: i’m irresistible

Remus: ha ha ha.

Remus: well.

Remus: except.

Mary: yes, yes

Mary: except to the person i want

Mary: thank you for pointing that out

Mary: i hadn’t connected those dots myself

Mary: totally not like that thought hasn’t overtaken my brain for the last three months

Remus: good?

Mary: yeah

Mary: i’m good

Mary: i’ll be good

Remus: hey what’s that curl cream you told me to use?

Remus: wait did they

Mary: omg they so did

Mary: those bitches just tore down the brick fireplace

Remus: calling you right now.

Remus hangs up on Mary after the home renovators paint over the red brick exterior with white paint, unable to finish watching, even if it is just to complain. He microwaves a sad dinner, part of the casserole Mary made for him, while watching for Allan who likes to dance around his feet every couple of steps. Eventually, he sits back down at his desk and opens up his laptop before pulling out the small sheet of notebook paper he got from Lily that morning. His laptop powers on and he makes his way to Google to type in his destination: ChristianMingle.com.

He maneuvers around the website until he finds the button to apply. He fills out the questions:

What gender are you? Male.

What is your age range? 25-40.

What is your address? 310 Whomping Willow Avenue, Godric’s Hollow, Connecticut 06492.

What is your full name? Sirius Something Black.

What is your email? [email protected]

What is your phone number? 860-000-0000

Create your password: FuckYouSirius800!

He finishes setting up Sirius’ dating profile on Christian Mingle and heads over to Match.com next. He signs Sirius up for OkCupid, Farmers Only, Plenty of Fish, Silver Singles, and eHarmony before deciding that’s probably good.

He makes sure he's turned on phone and email notifications for each of the accounts before closing his laptop and retiring to his bed for the night, Allan sleeping peacefully on the empty pillow next to him.

Chapter Text

A repeated dinging noise wakes him up, thirty-something text messages from an unsaved number.

Unknown: whay the uck

Unknown: y

Unknown: y r u like thi

Unknown: i’m nr christian

Unknown: or a farmer

Unknown: or silver

Unknown: i have sixty yesr okd gradmas hitting on me

Unknown: i dnt even like woman

Unknown: well k like woman but i mean loke romanti ally

Unknown: jokes on u becuse everyone wants me

Unknown: im a catch

Unknown: get if

Unknown: becquse plenty of fish

Unknown: delet mt accounts

Unknown: i can’t i don’t know passworf

Unknown: knowing u it’s lrobably siriusjsdumb1

Unknown: it didn’t work

Unknown: delete mt accounts

Unknown: mt phone keeps goig off and i hsve five trillion emails

Unknown: delet t remis

Unknown: where did u grt those pics ofme

Unknown: and mt email

Unknown: and my numbe

Unknown: dleetj it remys

Remus huffs out a laugh before clicking his phone off, realizing it’s only 3AM and he has no reason to be awake so early. He flips to his other side and nearly scares the shit out of himself at the giant green eyes staring back at him. Remus reaches out to pat Allan’s head and he purrs while snuggling up under his arm.

His phone wakes him up several hours later, ringing from a phone call instead of his alarm. He answers it on instinct, too tired to even read the caller ID.

“Hello?” He says while he rubs a hand over his eyes.

“Did you delete it?”

Oh, what has he done?

Remus would recognize that voice anywhere, Sirius and his elongated vowels and clear enunciation. Fucking pretentious, if you ask him. He flops back against his bed with a groan, putting the phone on speaker and resting it on his stomach. Allan is a heavy weight against his chest, little tufts of orange fur tickling his nose.

“Good morning to you, too,” he mumbles, his voice groggy and thick with sleep.

“Remus, I am literally getting five emails every minute. I can’t even play Candy Crush because my phone is glitching from all the emails.”

“Works well enough to call me,” he grumbles. He closes his eyes and pretends he’s back in his dream - hands twisted in sheets, hips meeting hips, thighs trembling.

“Who gave you my information? Was it Miss Martha? Whatever she told you, she’s lying. That meddling little - ”

“Goodbye, Sirius.”

“Hold on, hol - ”

Remus hangs up the phone, instantly silencing it as he sees Sirius try to call him back. His Saturday morning is already ruined, his peaceful sleep and delicious dream ripped away like a bandaid. No matter how hard he tries, his dream is a wasted and disappointing loss that he’s unable to force himself to revisit.

A quick and efficient hand in the shower slightly improves his morning.

And since an improved attitude deserves breakfast, he decides he’ll reward himself and his overactive imagination by making himself breakfast.

Okay, maybe a bowl of cereal.

He’s sorely disappointed when he opens his fridge and finds only a bottle of hot sauce and a cucumber. He moves to open his pantry and finds a jar of peanut butter.

Can he make breakfast with that?

Probably not.

Remus groans, deciding he simply isn’t ready to go to the grocery store. He hates the grocery store, that’s why he has three things in his kitchen. It’s far too early and he’s far too sleepy to bear the fluorescent lights and small talk.

He grabs a spoon and his jar of peanut butter and eats spoonfuls straight from the tub, feeling like an embarrassing imitation of an adult. It probably works as a healthy breakfast since it’s full of protein - and it’s a win-win because he won’t have to do any dishes. He’ll just throw the spoon away.

He hate-watches half an episode of House Hunters, groaning when the first couple describes their perfect home as a quaint and small oasis and their realtor shows them a five-bedroom mansion. They have a budget of 3 million dollars and Remus turns the TV off.

For lunch he eats his cucumber, his knife too dull and unable to cut it so he bites into it like a pickle. He gives up when he almost snaps his tooth in half, throwing the once-bitten cucumber in the trash with a huff.

The angry grumble his stomach omits an hour later is his final sign to man-up and go to the grocery store. After double-checking his pockets to make sure he’s got his wallet, he starts his walk to Weasley’s, his headphones on and his playlist shuffled, skipping songs until he finds one suitable for his crabby mood.

Remus waves at Lily and James, who are playing with Harry in their front yard. James is tossing a soccer ball around for Harry to play with while Lily pulls a neon yellow string through the grass for Allan to chase. Lily waves back, James preoccupied with having to near-tackle Harry when he starts sprinting toward the street.

The grocery store is fairly quiet, only a handful of people walking up and down the aisles. Weasley’s is a small family-owned store, with one cashier, one bagger, and one stocker - most of which have hair in matching shades of red and last names in matching shades of Weasley.

Remus picks up a box of noodles and throws it in his basket. He’ll give those to James next week, his fake attempt at assisting in meal cooking. He often buys a basket full of groceries and drops them straight off at the Potters' house. What would Remus do with a box of noodles? James, however, will manage to turn it into some intricate noodle a’la chicken, if that’s even a thing.

He’s inspecting the bread, thinking about what exactly the difference is between Whole Wheat and Whole Grain, when the bell on the door into the building jingles. Remus instinctively looks up and watches as Sirius rushes in, his usually perfect hair a mess and his phone pressed up to his ear. He mutters something on the phone and darts straight toward the back of the store. Remus tears his eyes away and looks back at the bread.

What is a grain? And what is a wheat?

He picks a random loaf and hopes James will be able to do something with it - sandwiches, french toast, give it to the geese. He strolls down the last aisle until he thinks his basket looks like it has enough stuff, hopes some of it James can use to make a meal. There’s only one person, Vera Molin, in line when he makes his way to the checkout, her cart full of things.

He pulls his items out of his basket and inspects what he’s grabbed - green beans, apples, bread, noodles, a chocolate bar. Surely James can’t make dinner with this…

“I’ve got one thing.”

Remus turns at the voice behind him. Sirius, his hand clenched tightly around a bottle of white wine. Remus smiles, glances down at his own basket full of items. Vera hands her card over to pay for her groceries, chatting away about how her daughter is selling Girl Scout cookies again this year.

“I always wondered if you could count,” Remus says with a smirk. Sirius has seemingly smoothed his hair out, now lying in a slightly neater fashion. His other hand is gripping a black helmet, his knuckles white against the strap.

“Let me go in front of you.”

“Well, no,” Remus laughs.

Sirius holds the bottle of wine up, one Remus recognizes as a shitty expensive white. It was the wine he’d gotten and brought over to the Potter’s the first time they had invited him for dinner. Lily had politely told him he didn’t have to bring anything, but if he did he better not ever ‘bring that fucking shit again.’ Sirius huffs, “I’ve got one thing.”

“Good for you.”

“You’ve got a basket full. It’s the polite thing to do.”

“Guess I’m not very polite, then”

“Clearly,” he mumbles not at all subtly. “Let me go first.”

“In a hurry?” If the messy hair and foot tapping hadn’t tipped him off, the constant checking of the time on his watch would have.

“Something like that.”

“Maybe you should have planned better.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, his whole body practically rolling with it. “Are you going to let me go first or not?”

“Definitely not,” Remus laughs. He takes his sweet time taking the rest of his items out of his basket - sauerkraut, broccoli, butternut squash. What on Earth is he buying? Sirius taps his foot impatiently and huffs.

“Hey, Remus,” the cashier, Bill Weasley, greets him before he starts scanning his items. Normally, Remus wouldn’t care much who the cashier is that day, but Bill is chatty.

And Remus is in no hurry.

“Hey, Bill,” Remus smiles, his friendliest and fakest smile. “How have you been lately?”

“Oh, good, yeah. You?”

“Just great, Bill. Thank you for asking. Say,” he uses his head to gesture to the box of elbow noodles Bill is scanning, “Could you tell me about those noodles?”

“Yeah, sure, what about ‘em?”

“How exactly do I cook them?” Remus asks, leaning his elbow on the checkout counter and resting his chin in his hand.

“The instructions are on the back, if you can read,” Sirius cuts in with a voice harsh and irritating on his ears.

Remus ignores him, something he’s very good at. “Like, should I salt the water, do you think?”

James is always muttering things to himself when he’s cooking, from thanking the meat for its sacrifice to commenting on what the shapes of the vegetables resemble. He always says something about ‘a little salt for the wat’ when boiling water, but Remus has never cared enough to actually listen to what he’s saying. Maybe now he’ll know!

“I always like to salt the water, makes ‘em taste better,” Bill smiles, a friendly and real smile. “It’s a myth that it makes the water boil quicker, but it does help the taste. And salting ‘em before makes the noodles have the salt so you don’t have to rely on the sauce.”

He didn’t even know that was a myth to begin with. He’ll have to tell James!

“Ah, good point. Oh, hey, what about the chicken? Do you know what temp that needs to get cooked to?”

Remus won’t be cooking it, and James most certainly knows the answer, but it never hurts to ask!

“You can look it up,” Sirius mutters. He’s right, of course.

“It’s 165 degrees, I think,” Bill answers. “Are you planning on baking it? My mom always likes to cook it in the oven. She does a little bit of olive oil and some fresh herbs and it’s just great. Did you see the selection of herbs we got right now? We just got ‘em in yesterday.”

“Oh, shucks. I must have missed it,” Remus lies. “Do you know if you had oregano?”

Is oregano an herb?

“Yeah, yeah, we got loads.” It sure is. “You want some? Fleur can grab some for you, can’t ya, Fleur?” Bill turns to the blonde girl bagging Remus’ groceries. Her cheeks flush and she nods before heading off in the direction of the produce section.

“Appreciate that, Bill,” Remus smiles. “Oh, how’d that chemistry exam go?”

“Oh, great. Thanks for the book, I woulda totally flunked without it. Got an A, highest in the class, even,” Bill smirks. “Mom offered to bake me a cake in celebration.”

“She’s a sweet mother,” Remus says. “What kind of cake you goin’ for?”

He can hear Sirius huff behind him.

“Chocolate, definitely.”

“Good choice,” Remus muses, distantly wishing he had gotten himself a chocolate cake. Fleur comes back a second later holding up a full, beautiful, green, lush oregano plant. Remus tilts his head and hums skeptically, “Do you have any that look a little nicer?”

Fleur blinks at him before disappearing.

“How’s the family, Bill?”

“Oh, yeah. They’re good. Mom’s pregnant again,” Bill laughs. “Charlie is graduating college next year, and Percy just started high school. Gid’s gettin’ married next fall. And Fabian’s got this guy he’s been seein’.”

Sirius coughs behind him.

“Oh, that’s great! Is Gid marrying the same girl he’s been seeing?”

“Yeah, Adrienne Waters. Goin’ on five years now,” Bill says while he scans Remus’ cucumber.

“Good for him. Think there’s gonna be wedding bells in Fabian’s future with this new guy?”

Sirius chokes out a cough behind him.

Fleur comes back before Bill can answer, holding up two more oregano plants. “Oh, yeah. Those are great. Hmmm, which one,” Remus taps a finger against his chin in thought. “Gosh, they’re both great.”

“Oh, would you just pick one?” Sirius snaps.

“Bill, what do you think? Left or right? The left is a little fuller but the leaves don’t look as good…”

“Yeah, the right has nicer leaves but it’s less full. Tough choice, man. Oregano is pretty easy to keep alive, though. And you know if it dies you can bring it back and we can get a refund for ya.”

“Oh, really? You know, I did not know that. Is there a timeline for that?”

“Oh my god,” Sirius groans with his head thrown back.

“Not really, just, you know, a reasonable time frame.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Like…a week or a month?”

“Yeah, like that. We refunded Miss Martha last week for a cilantro she bought five years ago. She had the receipt and everything. I’d hate to see the inside of her house.”

“You and me both,” he laughs, a harsh thing that sounds unbearable even to his own ears. “Okay, I think I'll go with the left one.”

Bill scans the plant and hands it to Fleur to bag. “S’gonna be $76.45.”

Remus nods and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He pulls out a wad of cash and slowly sorts through it. “Sorry, how much?”

“$76.45,” Bill repeats.

Remus smiles in thanks and counts out loud as he flips through his money. “Thirty, thirty-five, forty, forty-five…”

Sirius taps his foot again and huffs loudly.

“Gosh, I’m so silly. What was the total again, Bill?”

“$76.45,” Sirius cuts in rudely.

“What he said,” Bill smiles.

“Thanks,” Remus says as he hands Bill the cash. Bill hands him his change and Remus takes his time sorting it in his wallet. Fleur moves to hand him his bags of groceries, “Did you happen to bag the eggs and the bread separately?”

“No?”

“Ah,” he groans. “Would you so terribly mind?”

“Yes, I would,” Sirius cuts in.

Fleur digs through the bags and pulls out the loaf of bread, placing it gently in its own bag. She hands him the bags and he hands her a five-dollar tip as thanks. “Have a good night, Bill,” he calls as he leaves.

He can hear Sirius quickly navigating Bills chatting to pay for his bottle of wine. He has to stifle his laugh when Sirius brushes past him walking outside of the store, his receipt clenched tightly in his fist. He watches as Sirius quickly jumps on his motorcycle and takes off, leaving a thick cloud of black smoke in his absence.

He grins his whole way home, deciding to not listen to his internal voice that’s telling him he’s childish and immature. People can be childish and immature sometimes!

It’s not like he’s the one that’s causing it! Sirius woke him up early this morning. And he didn’t him a coffee yesterday!

And, yes, thank you, he knows Sirius doesn’t owe him a coffee. But it was done intentionally and maliciously and Remus does not appreciate it. It’s not a coincidence that Remus forgets his wallet and Sirius buys drinks for everyone at the cafe.

Although, Sirius has done that before…

He’s bought coffees, meals, and groceries for families loads of times, so it could be a coincidence. Except it’s not and he knows that it’s not.

Because it’s Remus. And it’s Sirius. And that’s just how it works.

Remus and his inability to grow up and ignore him.

Sirius and his flirty eyes and charming smile and well-fitting pants. His snarky, rude comments and flirty remarks that he only says because it causes Remus to blush. Remus knows there’s no intent, knows that Sirius would really like to sacrifice his life in exchange for a blueberry.

Except that he probably wouldn’t, actually. As much as he may want to, Sirius Black wouldn’t because he’s nice. He’s kind and friendly and neighborly. He wouldn’t sacrifice Remus’ life because that’s not something nice people do. Remus would know. He has a list of people he would sacrifice - ones that he wouldn’t even take the blueberry for.

Lily is sitting on his front porch when he gets home, two large wine glasses filled to the brim with red wine. Allan’s ginger fur is peeking out from around his marigolds, surely digging a large hole that Remus will never fill.

He unlocks the front door and kicks it open, Lily and Allan following in behind him. Grocery bags are dropped on the kitchen counter and Lily helps him put everything away, not a word shared between them. The bar of chocolate disappears, along with a redhead that makes her way into his living room and onto his couch. Remus puts away the last item and follows her, Allan following close behind. He flops down on the couch and takes a big sip of his wine.

“I’m having this,” Lily holds up the chocolate bar.

“You can share it,” he offers. She pauses to think for a moment before shrugging and ripping the packing open. She snaps a piece off and hands it to Remus. “Care to share why you were on my front porch?”

“Your door was locked so I couldn’t come in,” she mumbles through a mouthful of chocolate.

“Yeah, that’s the point of a lock.”

“Har-har-har,” Lily rolls her eyes. “James wanted Harry and Dad time, so they’re rock-watching.”

Remus smiles to himself, so very fond of Harry and his absurd interests. “Your child is very special.”

“You're telling me you're not interested in the beauty that is watching rocks?”

“You know I love it, Lily,” he says. “Especially when the rocks sit there and don’t move.”

“That’s my favorite part too!” She giggles. “James is better at that, anyway. I’ll tell you, only he could make rock-watching interesting.”

Remus lowers his voice to an impression of James, “‘Look, Haz, that one’s a magical rock - look at it sparkle in the sun.’”

Lily clears her throat, “Hazzy, this one looks like an owl!”

“May Harry and James have the time of their lives rock-watching tonight.”

“May they please.” Lily lifts her glass of wine in cheers before snapping off another piece of the chocolate bar and handing it Remus’ way. He splurged and bought the nice chocolate bar this time, a sorry disappointment because it tastes the same as the cheap shit he usually buys.

“Speaking of James, he invited me over Tuesday for a special dinner? What’s he making?”

“Chicken wings and you can’t complain because we feed you for free, so.”

“I hate chicken wings,” he mumbles to himself.

“Yes, yes, I know, it gets under your nails and you hate sticky fingers. Wash your hands.”

“Bossy.”

“Only when appropriate.”

“I do not need to know about your sex life!” He says scandalized.

“Hah!” She barks out a laugh. “James likes a woman who knows what she’s doing.”

“Yeah, probably because he doesn’t know.”

“I’m telling him you said that.”

“Oh, please do. ‘Lily, darling, where exactly, dear, do I put it, honey?’”

“We have a Peeping Tom, I see,” she smirks.

“I’ve walked in on the two of you fucking more times than should be reasonable. One day the roles will be reversed and you’ll understand.”

“Remus, honey,” she says gently. “That would require actually having a sex life.”

Remus smacks her in the leg, Lily laughing as she tries to push him away. He climbs over her lap to steal back his bar of chocolate, dramatically snapping a piece off and pointedly setting it where she can’t reach.

“Ugh,” he pops the piece of chocolate in his mouth and groans, leaning his head back against the couch. “I hate this week.”

“It’s not even Sunday,” Lily says as she pushes his leg away so she can reach the chocolate.

“I know! But I’ve got a meeting with my boss Monday afternoon, a proposal that I have to finish by Tuesday morning, and, like, a million more that I have to finish by Friday. And my crazy boss needs me to find time to go to the library and speak with the librarian about promoting some event there. And he needs an answer by Friday afternoon so I have to do it this week. I’m already ridiculously busy and now he wants me to fight the hordes of sticky and screamy children so we can promote some stupid book?”

Lily sips her wine. “Sounds busy.”

He hums, snapping off the last two pieces of chocolate and handing one to her. The label reads Severus’ Sweets, and Remus commits it to memory in the important section of his brain so he can remember to never buy it ever again. He eats the last piece, the seven-dollar price tag infiltrating his mind and mocking him.

“Go to the library on Thursday,” Lily says as sets her wine glass down with a thud. “There’s never events that day so Minerva will be all yours to terrorize with talks of promoting your boring romance author.”

“Really?” He perks up, tipping his head in Lily's direction so he can look at her.

“Mmmhm,” she hums. “Go first thing in the morning and bring her a donut, it’ll win her over. Minerva hates romance novels.”

“How do you know it’s a romance novel?” Lily levels him with an unimpressed look. “Alright, yeah, fine it’s a romance novel.”

Lily smirks, a self-assured thing that makes Remus roll his eyes. “Have you eaten?” She asks.

Remus snorts, “You know I haven’t.”

“I saw a cucumber with a bite taken out of it in the garbage.”

“Lunch,” he mumbles. The tip-tap of Allan’s paws against the hardwood floor fills the room until the fat cat reaches the rug, jumping up on the couch and snuggling himself into Remus’ lap.

“James is making gnocchi for dinner,” she offers.

“Lucky Sirius,” Remus scoffs, a petulant child who isn’t getting what he wants - which is gnocchi.

Lily, familiar with the concept, rolls her eyes with a deep sigh. “That was me inviting you to dinner, idiot.”

“I don’t - ”

“Sirius won’t be there.” She holds her hand up to stop him, “He’s off with some guy, I think. I’m sure he’ll stop by later tonight to bore me with details. But, he gets Sunday dinner tomorrow.”

“Well, of course he does. Have to keep it fair for the Princess. He’s taking my Sunday dinner, when he should just forfeit his. What will I do tomorrow, hmm?”

“Finish your cucumber.”

***

Thursday morning Remus pops into Alice’s Bakery while on his way to the library and picks up her signature cinnamon donut to give Minerva. Remus has worked with Minerva a handful of times over the past three years, setting up book signings and special publication events for the library. Godric’s Hollow Library is the only library in almost a hundred-mile radius, so it's a frequent visit for families and lonesome elders alike.

Minerva McGonagall is a strict woman, impressively tall with long brown hair that goes all the way down to her waist. She’s the sole librarian at Godric’s Hollow Library and takes extreme pride in her work. Remus can still remember the first time she allowed him into the historical section of the library, making him stop at the restroom so he could thoroughly wash his hands, and then proceeding to not let him touch any of the books.

He pauses his music and takes his headphones off, shoving them into his pocket when he gets closer to the library. Minerva hates when people use headphones in her library - or any technology, for that matter.

He stops dead in his tracks when he pulls the front door open. It’s packed. There are children everywhere, running around and screaming. Parents are standing off to the side of the room chatting, a pretend watchful eye on their children. Balloons are floating around the ceiling and crayons are cluttering the floor. Remus thinks he recognizes the song blasting through the speakers as We Don’t Talk About Bruno.

It’s like he’s walked into his own personal Hell.

“Have we finally thrown an event that’s suitable for someone of your reading level?” Remus turns to find Sirius grinning at him.

Remus falters - wide, terrified eyes scanning the room. His grip tightens around the bag carrying Minerva’s donut, the crushing sound of the brown paper bag drowned out by the sound of a child screaming bloody murder.

He’s going to kill Lily, the lying bastard.

“I was told the library didn’t have events on Thursdays,” he says distantly, his eyes still racking in the fifty-something children running in circles around him.

“Mmm,” Sirius hums. “There was a change of plans. Something about a balloon and a rat, it’s a long story.”

Remus turns away from watching a child stick a purple crayon up its nose, hopes its parent is somewhere nearby. He turns to Sirius, who looks positively enthusiastic. “Is…is Minerva available?”

Sirius tilts his head to the side, a patronizing thing that Remus attempts to pay no mind to, and gestures to the crowded library. “She's a bit busy, I fear.”

Remus glances around the room again. There’s a giant whiteboard with colored bubble-letters that reads: Children’s Reading Hour. “How long will this be?”

“‘Bout two hours. First, we read Oh, the Places You’ll Go and then we paint. And then we read The Very Hungry Caterpillar. And then, snack time. And we finish off with Chicka Chicka Boom Boom.”

A child runs through the space between them, slamming full force into Remus’ legs. Remus stumbles a bit, grabbing the child by the top of its head to try and rescue himself. The kid giggles and hits him repeatedly on the leg before backing up and starting to run at him again. Sirius watches in joyous amusement.

“Seamus! Seamus, you will knock it off this instant!” A woman comes yelling, picking her kid up by the arms and stomping away from them, a quiet berating that can’t be heard over the sounds of the other sixty screaming children.

Remus blinks. He wipes his hands against his pants and starts to feel like he needs to take a shower. He focuses back on Sirius, who still looks incredibly pleased. “Can I speak with her somewhere in between all of that?”

“‘Fraid not,” Sirius clicks his tongue, a hint of a smile on his face as he watches the woman carry away the child, with its loud and unbearable, screaming and legs kicking. “She’s very very busy, Remus.”

“Yeah, so am I,” he mutters, thinking of the thirty-three emails he has to respond to by tomorrow. “Will she be free this afternoon?”

Sirius shakes his head. “Knitting club got moved to today. Gertrude is visiting her granddaughter in Arizona on Tuesday, which is when we normally have knitting club, so we all agreed to move it so she wouldn’t miss a lesson.”

“How nice,” he mutters. “And this evening?”

“We’ve decided to do a special sing-a-long showing of Frozen for the kiddies. Thursdays were so boring around here, so I proposed movie night and Minerva loved the idea. It’ll be our first one. I special made some Olaf marshmallows for the occasion.”

Remus ignores all of this, though he desperately wants to know what an Olaf marshmallow is, “So, she won’t be free at all today?”

A child comes up to Sirius, blonde hair tied up in pigtails, and holds its hand out. Sirius reaches behind him and grabs a basket. He picks out a blue lollipop, plopping it in the child’s hand and patting it on the head before it giggles in glee and runs off. “Probably not. You can try again tomorrow?”

“She’ll be here tomorrow?”

Another child, this one stepping on Remus’ toes and probably crushing and breaking them. Sirius grabs another lollipop, purple, and hands it to the kid, who instantly starts crying and complaining about the flavor. Sirius squats so he’s level with the kid, a whispered conversation that Remus strains his ears to try and hear. Before he knows it the kid is wiping away a giant snot bubble, giggling, and running off, the flavor of the lollipop long forgotten.

Sirius stands back up, wiping his hands against his pants, practically forcing Remus to look at his thighs in the tight denim. Sirius clears his throat, “She’ll be in tomorrow.”

Remus pointedly looks away, finds the kid from earlier and watches him stick a yellow crayon up his nose to join the purple one. “What time will she be here tomorrow morning?”

Sirius abruptly walks away, Remus ready to chase after him and berate him on his manners or something. But he only walks a couple of feet before he stops at the kid, 3 crayons now stuffed up his nose, carefully grabs it by the hand and brings it over to, what Remus assumes, is its father.

Sirius returns a moment later, continues the conversation as if nothing had happened. “She doesn’t work Friday mornings. She won’t be in until noon.”

“Great,” he mutters. “Can I schedule a meeting or something?”

Sirius shakes his head.

“And why on Earth not?”

“Minerva doesn’t do meetings on Fridays. It’s a busy day for events, so she doesn’t like to fill her schedule with meetings.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Seems like every day is a busy day for events.”

Sirius clicks his tongue, a disapproving shake of his head. “We’re helping keep the children and parents of Godric’s Hollow and surrounding towns entertained, Remus. Do you not want the families in your community to have free activities that they can participate in?”

“That’s great. Wonderful. Real fucking nice.”

Sirius holds a hand against his heart, his head swiveling to look around the room. He lowers his voice, sounds as if he’s just heard the scandal of the century, “Remus, there are children around. Please don’t swear.”

Remus feels his right eye start to twitch and forces himself to take a deep breath before turning on his heel and walking out the door. He only makes it a couple of steps before he remembers the cinnamon donut clutched in his hand.

“Can I trust this will go to the right person?” He asks as he holds the bag up to Sirius.

“Depends. What is it?”

“Cinnamon donut.”

“Oh, gross,” Sirius makes a face. “For Minnie? Yeah, yeah. I’ll give it to her.”

Remus hesitates, watching Sirius with careful eyes as he holds the bag out for Sirius to grab. Sirius reaches out to grab it with a friendly smile, too many teeth and not enough sincerity. There's an awkward five seconds where Remus and Sirius are both holding on to the bag, Remus’ knuckles turning white from his tight grip. He finally lets it go, Sirius yanking the bag with a smirk. Very slowly he backs away, watching Sirius to ensure he keeps his word.

He has to be careful as he leaves, gaggles of children darting out in from of him. He makes it to the exit door and glances back at Sirius, who’s ripped open the paper bag and is holding the cinnamon donut in his hand. Sirius locks eyes with him and smiles.

He takes a giant bite out of the donut and winks.

Chapter Text

The greige color of his walls seems to close in on him, the room getting smaller and smaller and smaller each second that passes him by. By the time he finally gives up, he guesses his 12-foot by 12-foot office had shrunk to a measly couple of inches.

Unfortunately for Remus, it’s only 8 o’clock in the morning and he’s just started work, his boss unlikely to accept his absence with the excuse of ‘I hate the color of my walls.’

So, in an attempt to save his well-being (and his job), he decides to pack his stuff up and work from MarBean’s for the day.

He occasionally works from the cafe, but the building is small and tables are limited so it’s always a guessing game of if he’ll find somewhere to sit. And if he doesn’t, he has to walk all the way back home, and that just puts him in a sour mood. The Godric’s Hollow Library has loads of people who will work from their computer section, but Remus doesn’t like a certain someone who volunteers there so he doesn’t do that.

Usually, he’ll leave much earlier when he does decide to work from the cafe, hopefully beating the crowds of people and typically snagging himself a table, but he was lazy this morning and spent twenty minutes in bed watching his ceiling fan spin. Hopefully he’ll still get there in time, not have to wait for his coffee and not be able to find a table to sit at. He can get his coffee and table and watch the chaos unfold at rush hour. Or, work. Yeah, he should probably do that one.

Remus waves hello to Caroline and Miss Martha on his walk. Lily isn’t in the yard playing with Harry, but she’s a known morning-hater, so that’s not surprising. He does see James, sweaty and shirtless, running around the neighborhood with Allan on his leash.

Remus wonders how the Potter family managed to find the most dog-like cat imaginable.

He waves hello to James, who trips over his feet when he spots him. James recovers from his minor stumble and a giant grin forms on his face as he starts frantically waving back. He wipes a bit of sweat off his brow and Remus knows he should really not stare at his best friend's shirtless husband, but damn.

Allan tugs on the leash when he spots Remus and nearly rips James’ arm off, causing him to stumble on his feet again. He can hear James’ boisterous laugh from across the street as the cat pulls him towards Remus.

“Hey, Rem!” James laughs as he jogs across the street, barely sparing a glance at the road and almost getting hit by a red Prius driven by little Primrose McGonnagol-Pomfrey, who just got her driver's license last week.

“Hey, James,” he smiles. Allan reaches him first and Remus bends over to pick the cat-dog up. “How are ya?”

“Brilliant! Already hit ten miles this morning…” he pants. “Think I’m going for another five and then I’ll call it a morning.”

Remus thinks he’s crazy.

“Hey!” James yells and claps his hands together. “We should go running together!”

Remus thinks he’s insane.

“Oh,” Remus shakes his head. “No, no. We definitely shouldn’t.”

“Oh! This’ll be great,” James nods enthusiastically, beads of sweat dripping off of his face. “You, me, and Allan! We can be running buddies! Running bros! Bros who run! Should we start tomorrow?”

“No, I don’t - ”

“I usually start around 4AM, but we can move it up if that’s too late for you,” James smiles. It’s a good thing he’s pretty.

“James, I don’t really - ”

“I usually make Sirius join me but he can only do about five miles before he’s near collapse. I need someone who can go the whole way with me, you know?” James wipes another bead of sweat off his face and it flies in Remus’ direction. “I usually have to drop Sirius off at my house and trade him in for Allan. But you can run the whole thing with me, and I won’t need Sirius at all!”

Remus blinks. He scratches at Allan’s ears and gets ready to tell James about how he hasn’t run in ten years and has certainly never run because he wanted to.

“Sounds great!” Is what he says instead. “4AM tomorrow? I’ll be ready!”

He’ll be what!? He’s having a stroke!

“Great!” James grins so brightly it nearly blinds him. “Sirius will be so happy he doesn’t have to run with me! He’ll be over the moon! Oh, I should call him and let him know! See you tomorrow, Rem!”

James takes off running, pulling Allan straight out of Remus’ arms. The cat hisses and meows but lands on his feet and follows behind James. Of course, he’s on a leash, so he doesn’t have much of a choice. Remus looks down at his arm and sees three deep scratches forming.

Is that a good excuse to get him out of running?

Sorry, James, can’t go running anymore, I’ve got cat scratches on my arm.

Probably not.

He sighs and continues his walk, checking his watch to make sure he’ll still beat the morning rush. Does he even own running shoes? You can’t run in Converse, can you?

Maybe he can plead temporary insanity. He was distracted by the shirtless man in front of him.

No.

He was distracted by Allan and his cute, big green eyes and soft purring.

Not quite.

He was distracted by the mention of Sirius.

Yup, that’s the one.

Stealing his takeout and signing him up for stupid dating apps is one thing, but stealing his James-time by offering to go running? What was he thinking?

Sure, the library thing was annoying and Remus has been racking his brain trying to think of how to get him back for it - but running? That seems like a punishment more for Remus than Sirius!

Sirius will probably be happy! He’ll point and laugh in Remus’ face. He’ll be well rested and Remus will be sweaty and hot and his thighs will be on fire and he won’t be able to walk for a month. Sirius will laugh and thank Remus for getting him out of James’ insane idea of a good use of his free time.

And he’s gone and done it to himself, the stupid idiot.

Remus is still internally chastising himself when he pulls the blue door to the cafe open. The building is mostly empty, only one person in line and another person sitting at one of the tables, their papers and laptop spread out. He orders and gets his usual iced mocha and starts to head toward his favorite table to sit at, his mind still reeling at the fact that he’s going to have to go for a run tomorrow.

The best table at MarBeans, his personal favorite, is tucked in the far right corner, next to a window with a perfect view of the garden. It’s a quiet spot that not many people walk will by. It’s usually the first to go, but this morning it’s empty. The singular person currently in the cafe is actually sitting at Remus’ least favorite table, the worst one, right next to the line and the garbage can.

Remus hates that table. It’s too loud and gets far too much foot traffic. It’s almost always empty, a universal agreement that it is the worst table here. He never sits there, would rather just leave and work at home than sit there. But as he sets his coffee down on his favorite table he glances up and realizes who exactly it is that has their papers spread out all over the worst table in the cafe.

Remus pulls a chair out, a loud scrape of the chair against the wood floors filling the silent building. “Hope you don’t mind.”

Sirius’ head snaps up to look at him. He scowls. Somehow it makes his eyes look prettier. His voice is firm, “Yes, I do.”

“Aw.” Remus sets his drink down and sits in the chair. He starts digging through his backpack and pulls out his laptop. Sirius stares at him with hard eyes as Remus opens his laptop and powers it on.

“There’s a million empty tables. Pick one.”

“And you think I can’t count,” Remus laughs. He looks skeptically around the empty coffee shops and looks back at Sirius, fills his face with fake concern, “There’s only six empty tables, Sirius.”

“Pick. One.”

Remus holds a hand up to his heart and softens his eyes. “I don’t want to take up a whole table just for myself.”

Sirius gestures to the empty cafe, his voice turning loud and shrill. “We're the only ones here!”

“Other people will show up any minute and I just don’t think it’s kind for me to take up a whole two-person table by myself.”

“Sit with someone else, then,” Sirius shrugs. “You can’t sit with me.”

“Okay, Regina, you’re being a bit dramatic.”

“And you’re being a bit dense.”

“This spot has the best lighting.” It doesn’t, but that’s irrelevant to this conversation.

Sirius huffs, knows Remus is lying. Remus gives him his friendliest smile, a fake thing he’s perfected over the years. “There’s a table right next to the window. Go to it.”

Remus hums. That’s his favorite table. He does want to go to it. “Causes a glare on my screen.”

“I’m going to cause a glare on your screen.”

“Well, that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“That seat isn’t open.”

“I know. I’m sitting in it.”

“I’m trying to work.”

“Oh, that’s great. So am I. Do you mind moving some of your papers? Table is a bit cluttered, is all.” Remus picks up some of the papers littering the table and shoves them towards Sirius.

He thinks he sees Sirius’ eye twitch. “Then. Move.”

Remus’ laptop powers on and he logs in, tapping the keys a little harsher than needed. “I’ve unpacked my bag, you see.”

“Is your stuff glued to the table? Repack it.”

Remus smiles at him before focusing back on his laptop and opens up his emails, quickly skimming through them to see if he’s got anything urgent. He can feel Sirius’ eyes on him. If Sirius glared at him any harder, he’s pretty sure he’d turn into stone.

Neither of them say anything. Sirius continues to glare at him while Remus opens his inbox and starts to respond to an email. Sirius’ finger taps against the table, a repetitive and irritating sound that forces Remus to try and school his expression so it doesn’t show how annoyed he actually is. He probably doesn’t have the right to be annoyed, considering the circumstances, but the tap tap tap of Sirius’ finger is driving him crazy. Sirius, the receptive bastard, of course, catches onto Remus’ annoyance and taps his finger louder against the wood.

Remus hums along with Sirius’ tapping, bops his head from side to side as if he’s listening to a wonderful song and not Sirius’ annoying finger taps.

“You are incredibly very childish, you know.”

“Thank you,” Remus murmurs, his eyes not leaving his screen. He hits send on his email and opens the next one, determined to keep his eyes off of Sirius.

Sirius finally stops tapping. “It was not a compliment. I meant that rudely. In a rude way.”

“Because I'm sitting at a table?”

“Because you’re sitting at my table!”

He opens up an email, reads the first line, and huffs. People can’t just wait until afternoon to be annoying, can they? “Shall we both stand at opposite ends of the cafe and call the table to see who it comes running to?” He mumbles as he types up a response.

“You are not a funny man.”

“And you are?”

Sirius scoffs and harshly snatches one of his thousands of papers up from the table, crumbling the corner of the paper in the process. “S’my table,” he grumbles.

Remus finally looks up at him, leans his elbow on the table, and rests his chin on his hand. “Did you buy the table? Is your name on it? Did Sirius Black himself create this table?”

“Yes!”

Remus scoffs and rolls his eyes, hits send on his email.

“Marlene!” Sirius yells a shrill and loud thing that can probably be heard from the next town over. Marlene pokes her head out from the back room and stares at him. “Tell Remus here that I made these tables for you.”

Marlene blinks slowly. “He made the tables.” She disappears again into the back room.

“Told you!” Sirius glares at him. “Now move. It’s my table.”

“You may have made it,” Remus sighs. Of course the fucker made the tables. Probably grew the goddamn trees to make the wood! “But it’s still not yours.”

“It’s mine!”

“In that case,” Remus gestures at the six empty tables. “These are all yours.”

“They are all mine.”

“So, what? I can’t sit at any of these tables, then?”

“That would be ideal.”

“You know, as a table maker, you have some strange rules for how your tables are used.”

“I have exactly one rule.”

“I don’t think I need many guesses to figure out what that rule is…” he mumbles.

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” Sirius cheers. “And you’re breaking my one rule.”

“But how can you enforce this rule when you’ve sold the tables?”

Sirius grits his teeth and narrows his eyes. Remus can see the empty wrapper from his blueberry muffin next to his clenched fist on the table. Remus hates blueberry muffins. Of course Sirius would like something that Remus hates. He probably likes world hunger and cancer and NSYNC, too.

The coffee shop starts filling up a few moments later and Remus has to hold back his laugh each time Sirius looks up from his papers to let him know there’s still an empty table for him to go to right now. Eventually, all six of the empty Sirius Black Original Tables get filled up and Sirius grinds his teeth so hard Remus thinks he can hear it from across the table.

He has only replied to two emails when Sirius’ phone rings, Remus glancing up from his papers to glare at him again. It’s disrespectful, really. People are trying to work!

Sirius sends him his best sweet and apologetic smile before answering the phone, “Hey JamJam, what’s up?”

Sirius starts doodling on his piece of notebook paper, a sunflower with terribly disproportionate leaves. He nods his head repeatedly, a small smile on his face that Remus wonders if he even knows is there. He’s unable to make out what James is saying over the phone thanks to the bustling of the cafe, but Sirius’ happy expression slowly falling from his face tells him it’s nothing good.

Panic starts to rise in his chest, anxiety thrumming under his fingers as he thinks of all kinds of terror that James could be saying - Lily’s been in an accident, Harry is in the hospital, zombies are loose in the city, the Purge has started and Sirius is planning Remus’ death, Alice is out of chocolate muffins!

Sirius’ grip tightens on his phone, his knuckles white and his jaw clenched. His eyes narrow the longer the conversation goes on, but they remain set on Remus.

“I see,” Sirius grinds out. He rests his other hand on the table, lays it flat, and taps his finger twice. “Uh-huh. No, no, that’s fine. That’s great, James.”

The conversation lasts another minute, Sirius' responses getting shorter and shorter and his tone getting harsher, before he eventually ends it with an ‘I said it’s fine!’ and hangs up the phone in a huff.

“I bet you’re real proud of yourself,” Sirius grumbles a minute later, aggressively highlighting something bright pink on his paper.

“Well, my mother did always say to be your own biggest fan.”

“And my mother always said your knife only has to be sharper than the person next to you.”

“That…” Remus blinks, “I don’t understand what that means.”

“It’s irrelevant,” he mumbles. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Sitting?”

“That was James on the phone.”

“I assumed so. Or, I at least hoped you didn’t have a friend named JamJam.”

“He told me about tomorrow,” Sirius continues, ignoring Remus. “That you’re going running with him.”

Remus stops his typing and looks up to face Sirius. “Yes.”

“I go running with James.”

“I was told that you can’t make it past five miles.”

Sirius huffs in annoyance and rolls his eyes so dramatically his body rolls with him. “And you can?”

“Sure, why not?” Remus knows why not - his limbs are most certainly not built for running and his personality is not one that thrives with exercise and movement, but the opposite. He could live a sedentary life and he would be just fine, thank you.

“Look at you,” Sirius gestures dramatically at Remus, accidentally smacking his hand on Remus’ laptop in the process. “You’ll faint after the first mile.”

Remus will actually faint after the first ten feet, but Sirius doesn’t need to know that. “I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Do you even own running shoes?”

No.

“Yes.”

“You’ll probably fall and break your hip, you know.”

“And then you can laugh and throw a party,” Remus sighs. “James asked me to go running and I said yes because I wanted to. If you have a problem, take it up with James.”

Actually, Remus said yes because he knew this is how Sirius would respond, and yes, he is still upset about the whole library incident last Thursday. Considering Sirius doesn’t have a job and the community relies on his volunteer work far too much, Remus has struggled to think of other means of messing with him. Running with James is Remus’ best option.

And that’s saying a lot…

“‘Take it up with James’” Sirius mumbles under his breath, a whiny voice that sounds nothing like Remus. “‘Take it up with James.’ God, he’s unreal.”

“Yeah, thanks, I heard that.”

“Yeah, good, I wanted you to.”

“And you say I’m unreal.”

“You are,” Sirius snaps. “Steal my table, steal my identity, steal my James.”

“James is a person, I can’t steal him,” Remus says. “Also, I did you a favor signing you up for those dating accounts. I heard security cameras are getting better these days.”

“Did me a - what? What do you mean about security cameras?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

Sirius narrows his eyes, shakes his head, and pouts before slamming his laptop shut. He shoves his papers into a big pile and smashes them into his backpack, downs the rest of his coffee, and glares at Remus for ten seconds before getting up and marching out of the packed cafe.

***

Unknown: Thank you for signing up for Fish Facts! You will now be receiving daily Fun Fish Facts! Messaging and data rates may apply.

Remus: huh.

Unknown: Thank you for signing up for Fish Facts! You will now be receiving daily Fun Fish Facts! Messaging and data rates may apply.

Remus: yes thanks i got that part.

Remus: unsign me up.

Remus: i do not want this.

Unknown: Thank you for signing up for Fish Facts! You will now be receiving daily Fun Fish Facts! Messaging and data rates may apply.

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! Fish have been present on Earth for 450 million years! That’s longer than the dinosaurs!

Remus: no.

Remus: stop please.

Remus: wait is that true? that’s so long.

Remus: cancel.

Unknown: Would you like to cancel your daily Fun Fish Facts?

Remus: yes.

Unknown: Thank you for upgrading to hourly Fun Fish Facts! We will send you Fun Fish Facts every hour, on the hour!

Remus: huh.

Remus: no i said cancel.

Remus: CANCEL

Unknown: You are already subscribed to hourly Fun Fish Facts!

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! There are more species of fish than mammals, amphibians, reptiles, and birds put together. That’s a lot of fish!

Remus: CANCEL

Remus: that is a lot of fish.

Unknown: You are already subscribed to hourly Fun Fish Facts!

Remus: UNSUBSCRIBE

Unknown: Would you like to unsubscribe from hourly Fun Fish Facts?

Remus: YES

Unknown: We’re sorry to see you go. You will now get daily Fun Fish Facts.

Remus: NO

Unknown: Would you like to renew your subscription to hourly Fun Fish Facts?

Remus: UNSUBSCRIBE

Remus: UNSUBSCRIBE

Remus: CANCEL

Unknown: Would you like to cancel your subscription to daily Fun Fish Facts?

Remus: YES

Remus: CANCEL

Unknown: Thank you for upgrading to hourly Fun Fish Facts! We will send you Fun Fish Facts every hour, on the hour!

Remus: what the fuck.

Remus: how do i cancel this thing.

Remus: stop.

Remus: hault.

Remus: cease

Remus: conclude.

Remus: hold.

Remus: pause.

Unknown: Would you like to pause your subscription for hourly Fun Fish Facts?

Remus: yes please.

Unknown: Your subscription for hourly Fun Fish Facts has been paused for: 1 minute(s).

Remus: longer.

Unknown: Your subscription for hourly Fun Fish Facts has been paused for: 1 minute(s).

Remus: LONGER.

Unknown: Your subscription for hourly Fun Fish Facts has been paused for: 1 minute(s).

Remus: PAUSE.

Unknown: Would you like to pause your subscription for hourly Fun Fish Facts?

Remus: YES

Unknown: Your subscription for hourly Fun Fish Facts has been paused for: 1 minute(s).

Remus: NO.

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! Sailfish, Swordfish, and Marlin are the fastest fish in the ocean, reaching speeds of up to 70 mph, which is faster than the speed limits on most highways!

Remus: that’s really fast.

Remus: they really go that fast?

Unknown: All Fun Fish Facts are accurate and correct!

Remus: woah.

Remus: CANCEL.

Unknown: You are already subscribed to hourly Fun Fish Facts!

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! A person who studies fish for a living is called an ichthyologist. Say that three times fast!

Remus: then what’s a marine biologist?

Unknown: I’m sorry, Fun Fish Facts does not understand that command. If you are looking for help, text CANCEL to cancel your Fun Fish Facts subscription, UNSUBSCRIBE to unsubscribe from Fun Fish Facts, or PAUSE to pause your subscription to Fun Fish Facts.

Remus: UNSUBSCRIBE

Unknown: Would you like to unsubscribe from hourly Fun Fish Facts?

Remus: UNSUBSCRIBE

Unknown: We’re sorry to see you go. You will now get daily Fun Fish Facts.

Remus: FUCK.

Unknown: I’m sorry, Fun Fish Facts does not understand that command. If you are looking for help, text CANCEL to cancel your Fun Fish Facts subscription, UNSUBSCRIBE to unsubscribe from Fun Fish Facts, or PAUSE to pause your subscription to Fun Fish Facts.

***

Mary walks into his house in a rush, her hair messy and cheeks pink. She slams a bottle of white wine down on his coffee table without a word before disappearing into his kitchen to find glasses. Remus doesn’t own wine glasses, so she comes back with two plastic cups he got from the dentist three years ago, Gilderoy Dentistry printed on them.

She pours the wine until the cups are full, chugs half of it, and falls back onto the couch with a huff. Remus watches in vague amusement and concern. Messy hair on Mary MacDonald is a reason for concern if he’s ever seen one.

Her head is rested far back on the couch, eyes staring up at the ceiling, concentrated and focused. He takes a sip of his wine, scrunching his nose at the taste. He’s not a fan of white wine.

“I told her.”

Remus chokes, the wine falling down the wrong pipe. He smacks his chest a couple of times, his eyes starting to water from choking. He coughs, clears his throat, and wipes his eyes, Mary’s eyes not moving from the ceiling.

“You what?” He asks, his voice hoarse.

“I told her.”

“Mary,” he starts.

“We had dinner tonight, just me and her. I was at her house and Danial was out of town for work…and I told her. She smiled at me and I couldn’t…I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Remus swallows, his mind moving faster than it has in months trying to think of something to say, all reassuring and helpful comments have left his brain. Mary squeezes her eyes shut and finishes off the last half of her wine.

“It didn’t go well,” she laughs sourly. She pours more wine.

“Mary,” he sighs, reaching out to grab her hand. She lets him, only moving her hand so it’ll rest on top of his. Her other hand quickly wipes at her eye.

“She’s engaged!” Mary says humorously. “I propositioned an engaged woman. An engaged woman who, by the way, is engaged to a man! I can’t be upset about that. I…”

“You can be upset.”

“No. No, I…I knew. I shouldn’t have said it. I shouldn’t have told her.”

“And what?” He asks. “Suffer through the rest of your life loving her and never getting to say it?”

“Yes!” She laughs. “Yes, I should have done that. I shouldn’t have eaten her fucking shrimp scampi and then told her I loved her! What was I even thinking? I was looking at their engagement picture when I told her! Danial and his stupid white fucking teeth were staring right at me!”

“Daniel does have stupid white teeth,” Remus mumbles while he tries to picture what Danial even looks like. As often as Mary spends time with Emmeline and Remus spends time with Mary, he has rarely ever seen Daniel.

“He’s got veneers,” she sniffs, rubbing at her eyes again. “Hope he trips and chips them and has to get the whole set replaced. And maybe he’ll get a concussion, too.”

“Mar…”

“Fine! Call me Everest the way I’ll take the high ground.”

“Hun, I don’t think you even have room to take the high ground. You told his fiancée that you’re in love with her. He should probably be wishing you’ll get a concussion and chip your veneers.”

“Who’s side are you on?” She asks, her voice accusing and shrill. Remus levels her with a look, her sneer instantly faltering and instead forming a sad longing look. “I don’t have veneers,” she mumbles.

“Well, we can get you some. I know a dentist,” Remus says as holds up his Gilderoy Dentistry cup.

“God, not from Gilderoy. Have you seen his teeth? Frightening stuff, Remus. They could rival Lily in a competition for the whitest thing in town. Besides, I think that’s where Daniel got his done.”

“She’s a ginger, it’s not her fault,” Remus laughs. Mary smiles briefly before sighing, her hands reaching up to cover her face. “What…what exactly did she say?”

Mary shakes her head and sniffs. “Not right now. Distract me. Tell me something boring and gossipy. How’s Sirius?”

Remus blinks, ready to tell her to stop asking him about Sirius until he watches her wipe away a single tear. He sighs and takes a large sip of wine. “Sat with him today at the cafe.”

Her head whips over to look at him, her eyes red and wide. “You what!? Oh my gosh, I thought the day would never happen!”

“…Because I knew it would annoy him,” he finishes lamely. Her smile drops and she rolls her eyes, flopping her head back to lean against the couch again.

“Okay, some of us have real problems.”

“You asked!”

“I know, well I thought it would be interesting and distract me!”

He searches his brain for something to use to distract her, coming up empty-handed and useless. Everything is insensitive or boring. Eventually, he settles on, “I told James I’d go running with him.”

“Hah!” She barks out a laugh. “That’s funny, not distracting.”

“I wasn’t joking,” he blinks.

She stops laughing and tilts her head to face him, her face serious. “Remus, you can’t run. I would know, I walked the mile with you in high school. I think your heart may actually explode if you go running.”

“I can run! Why does everyone think I can’t run?”

“Take the hint, babe,” she smiles. “Who’s everyone? Did you summon the people of the town to come and watch this once-in-a-lifetime occurrence?”

“No. Sirius. He doesn’t think I can run.”

She smiles knowingly, her eyes bright as if she’s just learned a secret and solved a puzzle. “Why does Sirius know about this?”

“He usually runs with James.”

“Oh,” she frowns, her nose scrunched in disappointment. “That’s way more boring than I was imagining. Wait!” She gasps. “You’re running with James to piss off Sirius!”

He sips his wine, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “No comment.”

“Oh, grow up!” She yells.

“He ate my donut!”

“And shaped your bushes into balls, I know! You’re going to have a heart attack just to piss Sirius off.”

“I’m not going to have a heart attack,” he mumbles.

“If I ever did that, I think I’d have a heart attack,” she sings, terribly offkey and pitchy. “I think I’d have a heart attttaaaaacckkkkk.”

“I think I’d have a heart attack,” Remus finishes off the song, far more on-key and much less pitchy.

It’s quiet for a few moments, Mary continuing to stare up at the ceiling while Remus finishes his cup of wine. She sighs and wipes her nose using her hand, which she wipes against his pants.

“She said she needed time. She needed time and separation and to think,” Mary mumbles a minute later. “The fuck does she have to think about? You either love someone or you don’t.”

“Mar…” he says gently. “It’s a lot to put on someone. Especially an engaged woman who has a history of dating men. Of course she needs time.”

“I wish she didn’t. I wish she knew. I wish she felt the same way and wasn’t engaged to a man.”

“Especially Daniel,” he mumbles.

“Especially Daniel,” she laughs. “God, I wish she felt the same, Remus.”

“Maybe she does. She needs time, Mary. Give her time. Give her space and let her think.”

“I don’t want her to think, I want her to know.”

“I’m sorry, Mar. I don’t think that’s how it works. I think she has to think about it before she’s going to know.”

She rolls her eyes, watery and red. “I don’t want you to think either.”

Mary downs the rest of her wine and pulls her legs up on the couch. Remus grabs a blanket, a knitted quilt his mother made him years ago, and sets it over her legs. The remote is buried between the couch cushions, Remus patting aimlessly around the cushions to find it.

Mary fiddles with a piece of pottery he has on his coffee table, twirling it around so it’s facing the proper way. She uses her finger to wipe away a piece of dust before sighing and flopping back against the couch.

Remus tries to inconspicuously fix the placement of the pottery - unhappy with the way Mary turned it. It was the first thing he bought when he moved to Godric’s Hollow, an expensive thing that Remus fell in love with when he first saw it at Dorcas’ art gallery. He paid up the wazoo for the thing, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it and Dorcas was tired of him coming into the shop just to look at it.

The artist hasn’t done any more work, Remus has asked, and he can’t find them anywhere online, the signature at the bottom of the piece only reads Pads in fancy script. Dorcas refuses to tell him who made it, something about respecting the artist's anonymity, but she put him on a list with three-hundred other people who want to be notified if the artist makes anything else.

It’s been three years and he still hasn’t heard anything, so it’s not looking very good.

He turns HGTV on, turning the volume low so it’s a quiet presence in the background. The grumble of his stomach reminds him he was supposed to go to the Potter’s for dinner, Mary’s crisis distracting him for the past hour.

He grabs his phone to text Lily and let her know he won’t be over, seeing she and James have already reached out.

James: ARE YOU ALIVE

James: REMUS

James: REMUS HELLO?

James: I SEE YOU HAVE A LIGHT ON

James: LILY TOLD ME NOT TO CALL THE COPS

James: I LOOKED IN YOUR GARAGE AND YOUR CAR IS IN THERE

James: WHERE ARE YOU

James: MARYS BIKE IS ON YOUR PORCH

James: IS MARY THERE

James: OR DID YOU TAKE HER BIKE

James: SHES PROBABLY THERE

James: BRING HER FOR DINNER!!!!!!!

James: I MADE FISH

James: SALMON

James: MARY LOVES SALMON

James: I LOVE MARY

James: BRING HER OVER REM!!

James: OH NO I LOOKED IN YOUR WINDOW AND MARY IS CRYING OH GOD

James: LILY SAYS I SHOULD LEAVE YOU ALONE

James: SHE THINKS I SHOULD STOP LOOKING IN YOUR WINDOW

James: SO I GUESS I WILL

James: OK BYE BYE GOODNIGHT HONEY

Remus blinks after reading through all his messages, slightly overwhelmed by James and his enthusiastic enthusiasm.

Remus: james i told you to stop looking through my windows.

James: SORRY!!!!!!!!

James: WONT DO IT AGAIN

James: SO GLAD YOU ARE ALIVE

James: I WAS SO WORRIED

James: TELL MARY I SAY HI!!!

James: SALMON WAS SOOOOO GOOD REMUS

James: YOU MISSED OUT

James: DID YOU GET A NEW RUG?????

He looks up from his phone when he hears Mary laugh, her eyes locked on the TV. He watches as the home renovators walk through a home improvement store debating between which two white subway tiles they want to use as a backsplash in the kitchen.

He responds to Lily’s texts next, the home renovators deciding on a traditional rectangular white subway tile.

Lily: get ur ass over here

Lily: james made salmon

Lily: remmmmmusssssss

Lily: we feed you for free the least you could do is be on time!!!!

Lily: is mary there

Lily: i told james to stop looking in peoples windows

Lily: he’s going to get himself killed omg

Lily: order a pizza or you’ll starve

He takes her advice and places an order for a large cheese and large vegetarian pizza from Vanity’s, an Italian restaurant just outside of town. The delivery is set to take an hour - Remus’ angry stomach not very happy about that.

Remus: em and mar drama.

Remus: will update later.

Remus: thanks for the pizza advice.

Lily: <3

He throws his phone back on the couch and focuses his attention on HGTV, his least favorite renovators busy redoing a beautiful three-bedroom industrial townhome.

“They’re adding shiplap,” Mary mumbles.

“Did they paint the brick?” He asks, the camera focusing on a beautiful brick red wall that a contractor is painting over. “It’s ugly.”

“They tore out all the hydrangeas too,” she sighs. “Putting in some podocarpus.”

“Fucking hate podocarpus.”

“I know.”

“I ordered pizza.”

“I like pizza.”

“I know.”

Chapter Text

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! There are over 27,000 identified species of fish on the Earth and an estimated 15,000 fish species that have not yet been identified!

Remus: why haven’t they identified them?

Unknown: I'm sorry, Fun Fish Facts does not understand that command. If you are looking for help, text CANCEL to cancel your Fun Fish Facts subscription, UNSUBSCRIBE to unsubscribe from Fun Fish Facts, or PAUSE to pause your subscription to Fun Fish Facts.

Remus: CANCEL

Unknown: Would you like to cancel your daily Fun Fish Facts?

Remus: YES

Unknown: Thank you for upgrading to hourly Fun Fish Facts! We will send you Fun Fish Facts every hour, on the hour!

Remus: jesus christ

Remus: why.

Remus: what did i do to deserve this?

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! A female Sunfish may lay 300,000,000 eggs in a single spawning season. That’s a lot of eggs!

Remus: yeah.

Remus: it sure is.

Remus: CANCEL

Unknown: You are already subscribed to hourly Fun Fish Facts!

Remus: UNSUBSCRIBE

Unknown: Would you like to unsubscribe from hourly Fun Fish Facts?

Remus: yes please.

Unknown: We're sorry to see you go. You will now get daily Fun Fish Facts.

Remus: :(

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! Goldfish can live for decades. The oldest known Goldfish, “Goldie” died in 2005 at 45 years of age. The second oldest Goldfish was “Tish” who died at 43. That’s old!

***

The week takes Remus by storm, demanding clients and even more demanding bosses. By Friday evening he’s festering a headache of the century and a mighty strong desire for a drink.

And sex.

He definitely needs sex.

A drink first, maybe, and then sex.

And he knows exactly the place to go - Fabian’s. The shit-hole bar is the only one in town. Their specialty is shitty beers straight from a bottle and even shittier beers on tap. It’s usually loud and packed, especially on a Friday night, so Remus wouldn’t usually like to go. But he needs a drink. And sex.

And that’s the best place to accomplish both of those tasks.

Mary is still wallowing in her self-induced misery, declining his text to go out with a simple ‘no.’ He’s stopped by her house three times this week, Mary’s sadness growing smaller and smaller as the week goes on. He bumped into Emmeline the last time he visited, an awkward wave hello when he was heading out of Mary’s front door.

So, he puts on his nicest jeans, the ones that fit his ass real nice, and a dark brown shirt that Lily said makes him look nice. He brushes his hair out and puts in some Moroccan Oil that Mary recommended to him - which both smells excellent and makes his hair look nice. One final glance at himself in the mirror and he heads out, Fabian’s only a short walk away.

One of Remus’ favorite perks of living in a small town is the proximity of everything. He can walk practically everywhere. He’s not even sure when the last time he used his car was - maybe sometime last month? The summer weather in Connecticut is beautiful too, fresh and sunny, but not too warm - and isn’t that what life is all about?

He takes an empty seat at the bar, orders a gin and tonic without a lime and glances around at the crowd of people. Nobody catches his eye initially, but the night is still young, as they say. Do people still say that?

“This seat taken?”

Remus looks up from his drink to see a shorter man standing next to him, bright blonde hair and ridiculous dimples. “Uh, no. No, it’s not.”

“Wonderful,” he smiles. He slides into the seat and orders some local craft beer that Remus thinks sounds disgusting. The man turns to look at him, his ridiculous dimple and shiny white teeth on display. “I’m Benjy.”

“Oh, Benjy,” Remus nods in recognition. “You own the bookstore over on Burrow Lane, right?”

“That’s me,” Benjy smiles. Do they do dimple plastic surgery? “Can’t say I’ve ever seen you in there, though. I would have remembered.”

“Oh.” Remus feels himself blush, hopes the dim lighting of the bar covers it well enough. It doesn’t, if the sight of Benjy’s smile growing is anything to go by. “I’m sure I have.”

He’s sure he hasn’t, but Benjy doesn’t need to know that. He’s trying to get laid here, cut him some slack.

Benjy clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “No, no. I know I would remember you showing up.”

“You have loads of people show up! How can you be so sure?” Remus asks with a cheeky smile.

Fabian drops by and hands Benjys his beer, a dark foamy thing that looks like it’d be good for cleaning toilets. But Benjy takes a big sip and looks pleased. He takes a photo of the glass, forgetting to turn his flash off and inadvertently embarrassing Remus with his big bright light. Benjy laughs it off, “Anyway, people don’t tend to forget a face like yours.”

“Is that so?” Remus laughs. “Does that line usually work for you?”

“My polling pool is a little too small to give you a definitive answer,” Benjy smiles. “Maybe I'll have an answer tonight.”

“Cocky.”

“I prefer direct.”

Maybe Remus will get a good fuck out of the night.

He’s just about to respond, maybe something like ‘your place or mine?’ when Fabian shows up in front of him and slides him a bottle across the bar. “Here, from Sirius.”

Benjy’s flirty smile falters a bit, his eyes narrow and he suddenly feels farther away than he was just seconds ago. Remus picks up the bottle skeptically, half expecting it to explode in his hand or poison him. He spins it to read the label.

A Coors Light.

He laughs to himself and slides the drink away, back to the bar so Fabian can hopefully take it and dump it down the drain where it belongs.

“You and Black?” Benjy asks, a bit teasing and a bit upset.

“No, no,” Remus shakes his head. “Not at all. He’s just a - well, actually he’s not really even a friend.”

“Oh, well that’s just rude.” Sirius slides up next to him, his voice deep and smooth and finding place somewhere in between Remus’ ribs. “Hey, Benjy.”

Benjy smiles tightly and sticks his hand out to shake Sirius’. “Sirius, good to see you, man.”

“Yeah,” Sirius mutters. “How’s the store?”

“It’s just fine. How’s the library?”

“It’s just fine,” Sirius’ eyes remain locked on Benjy’s and Remus has the distinct feeling that he’s missing something. “How’s Caradoc?”

“Single.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you guys broke up.”

Remus wonders what he’s missing, watching the two of them. He knows he must be missing something - Sirius is the one who told Lily, who told Remus, that Benjy and Caradoc broke up!

“The Sirius Black didn’t know about something that happened in Godric’s Hollow?” Benjy smiles.

“I know,” Sirius laughs sarcastically. “Guess it must not have been that big of a deal for it to make my radar.”

Benjy clenches his jaw and breathes out a puff of air before his classic easy-going expression fills his face again. “Well, Remus and I were just talking here, so.”

Sirius turns and finally puts his full attention on Remus, gray eyes locked on brown. Remus’ heart picks up, thudding in his chest like a ticking-time bomb. “You were?”

“Uh,” Remus mumbles. “Yes?”

Sirius gasps, “Well, I love to chat!” He grabs a chair from a nearby table and slides it up to the bar, forcing himself into the tiny bit of space between Remus and Benjy. “What are we talking about?”

Remus, feeling awfully confused and unsure of what on Earth is going on, remains silent and lets Benjy answer, “Not much, I was just mentioning that I don’t think I’ve ever seen Remus in my bookstore.”

“Really? Remus is a frequent visitor of the library,” Sirius says, a disturbingly fake smile on his face. “Wonder why that is. Say, Remus, why do you go to the library so much and not Benjy’s book selling shop thing?”

Remus scratches behind his ear, blinks, and clears his throat. He is definitely missing something - he is not a frequent visitor of the library. “I, uh, well, I go to the library sometimes…for work.”

“Work?” Sirius asks with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Riveting.”

“The library has also been around a lot longer than my bookstore,” Benjy says. He twists his beer glass around in his hands and Remus finds himself focusing on the curve of his fingers around the glass.

Sirius pulls his attention away from Benjy’s long fingers with a loud cough, repeatedly smacking his chest and trying to take heaving breaths. “Sorry, sorry! Wrong pipe!” He waves a dismissive hand a moment later, sounding totally fine and not at all like someone who was near choking to death. “Hey, Benjy, you like that chair?”

“Uh,” Benjy glances down at the bar stool he’s sitting on, a pretty dark cherry wood. “It’s nice, yeah.”

“I made it,” Sirius grins. “I hand-crafted all of the chairs here.”

“Oh,” Benjy nods dumbly. “That’s…that’s nice.”

“Mmhm,” Sirius hums. “With a chainsaw, Benjy.”

“You know,” Benjy laughs and chugs the last bit of his beer. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Aw,” Sirius frowns. “Bye-bye.”

“Benjy - ”

“Don’t worry about it, Remus,” Benjy smiles. He digs in his wallet and throws a ten-dollar bill down before sliding a slip of paper toward Remus. “Use it if you want. Just know, I hope you do.”

Remus grabs the paper and unfolds it just a little bit to see a phone number scribbled down. Benjy is gone by the time he looks back up, only Sirius and his stormy eyes. Sirius huffs and waves Fabian over to order another drink, asking for his usual. Remus orders another gin and tonic, can no longer feel the first one in his veins.

“You know, it’s a bit rude to not drink something someone bought you,” Sirius says while reaching over to grab the discarded Coors Light bottle that Remus had pushed away.

“Bit rude to buy someone something you know they hate.”

Sirius puts a hand to his heart and gasps. “Say it isn’t so! I had no idea you hated those.”

“Uh-huh. I seem to remember making it very clear that I hate beer, especially Coors Light. Don’t take up acting, you’ll fail.”

“I’ve never failed at anything,” he says dismissively. “It’s still polite to drink it.”

“I thought we’ve established that I’m not polite?”

“I spent my hard-earned money on a drink for you and you won’t even have a sip? I’m appalled, truly.”

“What was it, five dollars? Free, if you’re fucking the bartender?” Remus scoffs. Sirius blanches at the remark, his face flushing. Remus gets the sense that he wasn’t supposed to know about that. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Well, Remus, I wanted to be the bigger person and apologize for my behavior the other day at the cafe. That’s why I came over here and bought the drink for you,” Sirius smiles at him and it’s mean. “But here you are…not accepting my apology.”

“No, I’m not accepting it. You or the drink. What was that whole thing with you and Benjy?”

Sirius ignores him, “You know, it’s not good for your health to hold grudges, Remus.”

“Is it really?”

“Mmhmm.” Fabian hands Sirius his new drink with a wink, one that Remus has to force himself to ignore. He also has to ignore the look of bliss on Sirius’ face as he takes a sip of his drink. It smells like whiskey. “I’d hate for me to negatively impact your health.”

“I’m sure you would.”

“Are you going to have your drink?”

“No. Are you going to answer my question?”

“No. I think you should. Fabian doesn’t do refunds on open bottles and I spent a pretty penny on that.”

“You spent five dollars.”

“Five dollars I’ll never get back,” he sighs longingly.

Fabian finally brings Remus his drink, notably after Sirius got his. And with no wink. He takes a sip, “Maybe I’m allergic to it.”

“No, you’re not.”

Remus turns to smile at him and raises an eyebrow. The bar is dark and crowded and he’s exhausted, so maybe he's imagining the faint blush high on Sirius’ cheeks. “And how would you know that?”

Sirius splutters for a moment, gesturing at the bar as if it’s a reason. He’s right, of course. Remus is only allergic to marshmallows, a fact known only to James, who took good care to ask him about any allergies or preferences he has before cooking him anything. “Well, uh, it’s beer, Remus. Nobody is allergic to beer.”

“That’s…that’s just wrong.”

“It’s not like it’s, I don’t know, peanuts or… coconut,” he mumbles, swirling his drink around in his glass. Definitely whiskey.

“Coconut?”

“People can be allergic to coconut!” Sirius grabs the beer bottle and slides it across the bar to Remus. “Drink it.”

“You’re awfully demanding.” Remus picks up the bottle and inspects it. Sirius sends him a cocky smile. Somehow Sirius makes the dingy lighting of the bar look dreamy. Or maybe the dingy bar lighting makes Sirius look dreamy. Or maybe Remus is a lightweight who shouldn’t be allowed to drink on an empty stomach.

He takes a sip of the beer and regrets it instantly. He hates beer.

“Don’t like it?” Sirius asks, a small and sadistic smile forming on his face. It makes his normal-looking dimples pop and Remus wants to trace them with his finger.

“No.”

“That’s a shame,” Sirius smiles. He slides out of the seat with a tap of his hand against the counter and starts shuffling his way through the crowded bar, getting stopped by no less than five people. Remus watches as he laughs through different conversations and flirts with anyone with a pulse. When Sirius eventually makes it back to his table and slides into a seat, he glances up to look directly at Remus and winks.

Remus orders another drink.

He finds himself searching the crowds again, hoping Benjy will pop back out and whisk him away. But Benjy is long gone, and so is anyone of interest. His fingers play with the edge of the paper Benjy gave him, his brain struggling to decide what to do. Call him or not? Sleep with him or not? Have a date with a man or a date with his hand?

He finishes his drink quicker than intended and pays his tab before he starts to make his way through the crowd and to the exit, deciding that he’s never been the best at decision making on an alcohol-riddled brain. His hand and imagination will have to do the trick tonight - and maybe tomorrow night Benjy’s long fingers can do the trick instead.

But his alcohol-riddled brain isn’t only bad at making sex-decisions, but decision-decisions. And Sirius is here with his stupid leather jacket and smelly whisky and a busty blonde woman that’s hanging on his arm.

Fabian has an old jukebox at his bar. It’s a big deal, like any totally normal thing being introduced to a small town is. He had a whole big reveal that almost all three-thousand residents of Godric’s Hollow showed up for - with a giant red ribbon and comically large scissors.

Remus has heard practically every song that’s on the jukebox over the last three years, which is why he knows the exact one he wants to play tonight. And why he turns around and heads to the bar to ask Evan, the other bartender on staff tonight, to turn a twenty dollar bill into quarters, so he’s well stocked for the night. He gets another drink before moving through the crowded bar and to the jukebox.

A small majority of the town is here, with not much else to do on a Friday night. Some of the young ones will travel up to Hogsmeade, a larger city about an hour outside of town, to hit up different clubs and gay bars. Remus has gone a handful of times with Lily and Mary, but he’s reached the ripe age of his late-twenties and simply cannot stand being in such close proximity to so many people.

Tonight, Remus isn’t worried about other people. He only cares about one person right now, one who is sitting at a table and flirting with a blonde that Remus doesn’t recognize.

He inserts his quarter and selects his song, the dulcet tones of the band Starship filling the small bar.

We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll.

He leans against the wall next to the jukebox and waits. The bar is busy and loud, so it takes about ten seconds before Sirius’ head snaps away from the pretty blonde and his eyes meet Remus’.

Remus smiles at him and waves.

As well-known as Sirius is by everyone in town, it’s equally as known that he hates this song.

Almost as much as he hates Remus.

One month after Fabian’s grand-jukebox-reveal-extravaganza, Sirius started a petition to completely remove the song from the jukebox. He went door-to-door to all the houses in town until he garnered 2,500 signatures. Almost 90% of the population of Godric's Hollow signed Sirius’ stupid petition to remove his least favorite song from Fabian’s jukebox.

Sirius didn’t bother taking his petition to Remus’ door.

And for good reason, of course. Remus would never sign a petition so silly and unreasonable.

Despite the petition, the song remained on Fabian’s jukebox - only because Fabian couldn’t figure out how to remove it as one of the selections. The petition did, however, greatly inform the people of the town that Sirius hates this song.

And the people of the town love Sirius. So, no one ever plays the song.

Except Remus.

Sirius even had a sign made that hangs above the jukebox - a picture of his smiling face that says ‘Please Do Not Play ‘We Built This City’ by Starships.’ The lifeless eyes and perfect smile of the sign stare at him as he inserts another quarter and plays the song again. Actual Sirius’ head whips up again and stares at him, but this Sirius has no smile at all and eyes that are nowhere near lifeless.

We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll.

Sirius glares at him. Remus bobs his head and sings along with the song, watching in amusement as Sirius slams the rest of his drink and stomps his way over to Remus, leaving the busty blonde alone and confused.

He truly is incredibly insufferable - in the way that you can just tell he’s incredibly insufferable by the way he walks.

“Remus.”

“Sirius.”

“Listening to some music?”

Remus hums. “I just love this song, don’t you?”

“Figures you would have terrible music taste, too.”

“Too?” Remus raises an eyebrow at him.

Sirius slowly trails his eyes up Remus’ body. “Your taste in men. Where has Benjy gone?”

“You scared him away.”

“Blaming me for your own failings?”

“Woah,” Remus mumbles. “Quite the jump we’ve made.”

“Well, get a bungee cord because I’m not done.”

“You’re ruining song time for me, Sirius.”

“It’s a shit song and you know it.”

“It’s my favorite song,” Remus holds a hand up to his heart as if he’s offended. “My dead grandmother loved this song.”

His grandmother isn’t dead. And she hates this song.

“Your dead grandmother has terrible taste.”

“Cruel,” Remus shakes his head. “Do the people know you’re a cruel man, Sirius Black?”

“Do the people know you’re a liar, Remus Lupin?”

We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll.

Remus smiles and nods. He’s got him there - Remus most certainly is a liar. “I don’t parade myself around as a truthful person.”

“What? And I do?”

“I never said that.”

“You most certainly implied it.”

“I did no such thing.”

He did.

“You did. With that eyebrow thing and the…the eye raising thing that you do.”

“That I do?”

“Yes, that you do,” Sirius huffs. “When you’re being all snarky and impolite.”

“I’m never snarky or impolite.”

“Well, you’re both right now. Really proving the whole liar thing, aren’t you?”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“And a second, and a tenth, and a hundredth, and a - ”

“Yeah, okay, I get it.” Remus rolls his eyes. “What about you and the narrow eyes and mean smile thing that you do?”

“What about it?”

We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll.

“Snarky and impolite.”

“I can’t help the way my eyes move.”

“And I can?”

“Yes,” he nods.

“Hypocritical.”

“I like to call it selective.”

“I like to call you an idiot.”

“Impolite!” He yells.

“If you want impolite, I can give you impolite.”

“Snarky!”

Remus rolls his eyes and pointedly looks away from Sirius. He scans the crowds of people, landing on the busty blonde Sirius abandoned. He uses his head to gesture to her, “Who’s your friend?”

Sirius turns away from him and Remus can see his shoulders shake as he laughs. “Interested?” He smiles.

“In a threeway?” Remus smirks. He shrugs, “Why not?”

Sirius' mouth drops a little in surprise but he fixes it quickly, huffing out a laugh and pushing his hair off his shoulder. “Your place or mine?”

“What does the inside of Sirius Black's home look like? I’m guessing lots of cobwebs and crucifixes, maybe some pentagrams?”

“Yeah,” Sirius huffs, “Gonna have to keep imagining it, you lamp post. You’ll never see it.”

“Aw, shucks,” Remus smiles. “You never answered my question.”

“Found her on Plenty of Fish,” Sirius says. “Thanks for that, by the way. Lori and I are getting along swimmingly.”

“I’m sure you are…say, does Lori know she’s getting on with a gay man?”

“Lori is aware of my…preferences. She doesn’t mind. She’s willing to put it aside for my sweet, sweet love.”

“So, Lori is using you to make some other man jealous?”

“She’s not using me. We have agreed upon terms,” Sirius scoffs.

“Agreed upon terms?” Remus looks back over at Lori and sees her staring off into the distance, absentmindedly swirling the drink in her hand. He scans the room to try and see what she’s looking at.

“Yes. She makes her guy jealous, and I get to look pretty while helping her.”

“So, what do you get out of the experience?”

“I get to look pretty,” Sirius blinks.

“Oh,” Remus draws it out. “So, she’s paying for your plastic surgery.”

Sirius smacks him on the arm. “Some of us don’t need plastic surgery to look pretty.”

“I know, Lori is a natural beauty. I can tell from here.”

Sirius scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “You can be dumb or blind, Remus. Not both.”

We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll.

Remus ignores him. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Awfully nosy, aren’t you?” Sirius asks with a grin. “I’m simply helping someone out. You could try it sometime.”

“Cause you’re such a helpful person.”

“I am,” Sirius blinks. “I’m helping Lori tonight, tomorrow I have dinner with Susan from SilverSingles, Sunday I’m getting coffee with Chloe from eHarmony, and Monday I’m meeting Vanessa from ChristianMingle at the park for a picnic.”

“Sounds like you're well-booked up.”

“I am,” Sirius smiles. “I’m helping the community, Remus.”

“Yeah, one single person at a time,” Remus scoffs and abandons his search for Lori’s mystery guy. He looks back at Sirius. Sirius isn’t short by any means, but Remus is taller than most average people. Lily would say most average humans, but Remus doesn’t like that insinuation.

Sirius is the perfect height to look up at Remus and bat his pretty eyelashes. He’s the perfect height for Remus to hug him and for Sirius’ head to fit perfectly between his neck and shoulder. He’s the perfect height for Remus to lean down, cup his jaw, and kiss him.

He needs to stop drinking.

We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll.

The song ends and Remus pulls another quarter from his pocket and inserts it in the machine, selecting the same song for the third time.

“You know, there are other people in the bar.”

“You don’t say?”

“And we don’t want to overwhelm the ER with a sudden influx of people with bleeding eardrums.”

“Well, don’t go punching people in the ears and we can avoid that.”

“Other people would like to use the jukebox,” he smiles.

“Nobody else wants to use the jukebox.”

“Yeah…” Sirius trails off and looks around to see nobody else is near them. “I do.”

“You’ll have to wait your turn.”

“Fine. I get next play, then.”

“I’m in line already.”

“You’ve just gone.”

“Yes, but then I got back in line, you see. Before you got all in a huff and said you wanted to play a song. You got in line behind me,” Remus kindly informs him.

“…That’s not how it works.”

“I know you can get easily confused,” Remus smiles. “But, lines do, in fact, work that way, Sirius.”

“Yes, Remus, but you need to leave the line before you get back in it.”

“I did. And then I got back in line.”

“Fine! Fine! Go next. But I’m in line after you.”

They stare at each other for a few moments until the song ends and Remus inserts his quarter and selects the same song.

We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll.

“Okay, move.”

“It’s still my turn, Sirius.”

“Are you unfamiliar with the concept of a turn?”

Remus grabs another quarter and selects the song to add it to the queue.

“That is not how a turn works!”

Remus pulls the bag of quarters out from his pocket and holds it up in Sirius’ face. “I get to finish my quarters.”

“Remus!”

He inserts another quarter and adds the same song to the queue.

“That’s not fair! It’s my turn!”

“My turn isn’t over, Sirius.”

“Yes, it is! I want to play my song!”

“It’s still my turn!”

“No, it’s not! I was next in line!”

“But it's still my turn!”

“Do you know how a turn works!?”

We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll.

“Yes, and it’s my turn.”

“No, it’s not! You had your turn and now I get to go!”

“You’re causing a scene, Sirius.”

“Let me go!”

“Once I'm done with my turn.”

We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll.

“Stop playing this fucking song!”

“You’re being ridiculous, Sirius.”

“And you’re being an ass. Let me play my song.”

Remus inserts his last quarter and steps away from the jukebox, using his hands to gesture at the now empty space where he was standing.

We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll.

Sirius grabs his wallet from his back pocket and digs around to find a quarter. He inserts his quarter and spends a minute looking for the song he wants before turning and narrowing his eyes at Remus.

“How many quarters did you just put in there?”

“About twenty dollars worth,” Remus says with a kind and pleasant smile.

“Did you pick the same song for every quarter?”

“Sure did.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s too bad.”

Sirius turns away from the jukebox without selecting his song and leaves the building, grabbing the busty blonde from the bar and holding her hand as he steers her out of the building. Remus uses Sirius’ quarter to play We Built This City again and leaves.

What?

He doesn’t want to listen to that song fifty times either.

Chapter Text

Friday and Remus is ready for the day to end. He has had email after email after email, and truly, he’s over it. Of course, the days just began, but he’d still like for it to be over.

The morning drags and Remus takes far longer to reply to emails than he usually would. Eventually, he finishes all the things he was using for procrastination and comes down to the one task he’d been putting off all morning.

Remus holds his breath as his phone rings.

Please don’t be him, please don’t be him, please don’t be him.

“Thank you for calling Godric Hollow Library, this is Sirius. How can I help you?”

Shit.

“Well, don’t you sound like a nice, upstanding citizen for once.”

It’s almost like he can hear the smile drop off Sirius’ face. “What do you want?”

“That’s not a very nice way to speak to a customer,” Remus clicks his tongue.

“You’re not a customer, you’re on the phone.”

“The sentiment still stands. Are these phone calls recorded for quality assurance purposes?”

“No.”

Remus taps his pen against his desk. “Where can I file a complaint for poor customer service?”

“Up my ass.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sirius?” He says with a smile.

A brief pause, “Is there a purpose for this call or are you just sad and lonely?”

Remus repeatedly clicks his pen as he leans back in his chair. He instinctively glances at the clock, desperate to be done working - even though he’s really only just started. “Is Minerva available for me to speak to?”

“You cannot file a complaint with my boss! She’s not even my boss! I’m a volunteer, and you can’t technically fire a volunteer! Minerva loves me, too, so she wouldn’t fire me no matter what you say,” Sirius says, so loudly and quickly that Remus struggles to understand what he’s saying.

“That was…inspiring, but I need to speak with her about a book signing event that my boss wants to schedule.”

“Oh,” he mumbles. “What book?”

“Are you Minerva?”

“I just need to ensure you’ll be speaking to her about a book of quality.”

“You wouldn’t know quality if it hit you upside the head.”

“Hurtful, really.”

“You’ll live.”

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

Remus can’t help the smile that forms on his face. “I’ve been known to crack a joke here and there.”

Sirius huffs dramatically. “Let me put you on hold for a second and see if she’s available.”

“Thank you.” Remus pulls up the email from his boss with all the information he needs as Sirius’ voice disappears and elevator music replaces it.

Remus watches the clock as a minute passes.

Another minute.

Another minute.

The elevator music cuts off and Sirius’ voice fills his room again, “Sorry about that, she’s just finishing up with a customer.”

“Oh, okay. I can call back later if she’s not free.”

“No, no. You’re fine. She’ll be done in just a moment and then she’s all yours.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to put you on hold again.”

“Okay.”

The elevator music comes back. Remus responds to an email and watches as his inbox refreshes and five more appear. He ignores them and checks his calendar for meetings or important dates instead.

Three minutes pass.

He opens up one of his new emails and decides he actually doesn’t want to respond to it, so instead he doodles a flower on his notepad and wonders what horror he committed in his past life to put him here. Murder, arson, theft - none of them should warrant his current torment of dealing with Sirius Black.

“Hey, she’s still finishing up with that customer.”

Remus adds a stem to his flower. “I can call back.”

“She’s scanning books now so it should just be another moment.”

“Okay.” He draws a leaf on his flower's stem. It’s not a very good flower. The stem is lopsided and the petals are all uneven and he regrets adding the leaf because now it looks stupid. His morning slice of pizza is well-and-digested, if the angry grumble from his stomach is anything to go by.

“I’ll put you on hold again.”

The elevator music comes back before he can say anything else and Remus has the distinct feeling he won’t be talking to Minerva today. He grabs his phone, still on hold but now playing some strange, depressing music, and makes his way to his kitchen. The empty shelves of his refrigerator taunt him, only a single loaf of bread and a bottle of ketchup. He feels like a fake adult.

“Remus?”

Remus blinks and wonders briefly if he’s hallucinating again or if his house has been broken into.

“Are you still there?”

He has a brief moment of clarity before he picks his phone up and sees Sirius has, once again, taken him off hold. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here.”

“Yeah, so it’ll just be another second.”

“Mmm,” he hums as he grabs the loaf of bread out of his fridge and slams the door shut. “Will it?”

“Yup.”

“Sirius, will you just take my phone number and ask her to call me when she’s available?”

“No, sorry. She doesn’t accept messages.”

He leans his head back and stares at the ceiling. Maybe he was a cult leader in his past life. Or a dictator. He truly must have been someone awful, that’s the only conclusion he can come to. “She doesn’t accept messages?”

“Nope,” Sirius says, popping the ‘p.’

“I guess I’ll just come down and see her in person, then.”

He absolutely won’t do that, thank you. It’s raining and he’s tired and his patience is running thin and the thought of having to deal with the general public (Sirius) at the moment is not one that pleases him.

“That’s not necessary. She’ll take your call in just a moment.”

“I’ve been on hold for fifteen minutes now.”

“Mmhm, another two and she’s all yours.”

“For some reason, I don’t believe you,” he mumbles as he closely inspects his bread, deciding that the suspicious spot is simply a grain and not a life-threatening mold.

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

“I’m sure it does,” he sighs.

“I’ll just put you on hold for another moment.”

The depressing elevator music plays again and Remus sighs. “I’m sure you will,” he mumbles to himself. He pops a piece of bread in his toaster, the burning scent of toaster crumbs that he hasn’t cleaned in three years instantly filling his house. His kitchen is void of anything to put on his toast, not even butter or jam. He’s going to have dry toast and that will be his lunch.

How sad.

He hums along with the depressing elevator music, tapping his foot to match the beat. It’s not actually as depressing as he initially thought, and it’s got a nice saxophone sound that he greatly appreciates. It’s very much elevator music, but a soothing type that you could maybe expect to hear in some hipster coffee shop.

Not Marlene’s hipster coffee shop as she would balk at the insinuation of it being ‘hipster,’ despite the fact that it most certainly is.

Once his bread is finished being toasted, borderline burnt, he brings it back to his office, sitting down in his crappy chair that breaks his back. He ordered a new one several weeks ago, but it came unassembled and he doesn’t own a screwdriver and has far too much pride to borrow one from Lily.

He’s finished his toast by the time Sirius’ voice returns to the phone, “So sorry for the inconvenience. Minerva got pulled in by another customer, spine emergency, you know what it’s like. Anywho, she’ll be with you in just another second.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to put you on hold for just a - ”

Remus hangs up.

He responds to another email and decides to make himself another piece of sad toast - his first one doing a terribly pathetic job at diminishing his hunger. Another hour of pretending to work passes before he decides to call the library again, hoping that Sirius will no longer be volunteering or answering the phones or, really, just existing.

“Thank you for calling Godric’s Hollow Library. This is Sirius, how can - ”

Remus hangs up.

He should just go down to the library and speak with Minerva in person, but he really doesn’t want to. It should be a simple phone call! Less than five minutes and he’d be done, and then he could finish the rest of his work that relies on this phone call. His head has taken a one-way trip on a merry-go-round and there’s a persistent, if not comforting, ringing in his ears. It vaguely resembles the library hold music, but that seems irrelevant.

Another hour goes by and he wills up the energy to call again.

“Thank you for calling Godric’s Hollow Libra - ”

Remus hates that he can tell it’s Sirius just by the sound of his voice, smooth and charming, even over the phone. It’s unfair, really. He can practically see Sirius’ easy smile and soft eyes as he speaks, probably has his hair thrown up in a messy way that he makes look intentional and good. He’s probably wearing his stupid leather jacket and those jeans that cup his ass just -

He could just walk to the library and speak with Minerva. He’d be on the clock, so he’d even get paid for it. But then he’d have to leave his house and he’s just not in the mood right now - he hasn’t even changed out of his sweatpants. And if he went to the library he’d have to see Sirius in person. And he definitely doesn’t want to do that.

And definitely not in the sweatpants he slept in.

For another hour Remus pretends to focus on his work, acting like he’s thinking of books and authors and publishing when he’s actually thinking of high cheekbones and gray eyes. An email from his least favorite client plagues his inbox and he has to decide between which horror he’d rather deal with first.

He calls the library again.

A new, deep voice picks up this time. Remus lies to himself and acts like he isn’t disappointed. “Thanks for calling Godric’s Hollow Library. This is Orion, how can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi…um, can I speak to Minerva, please?”

“Of course. She’s currently with a customer, but I can put you on a brief hold and she’ll be right with you?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.” The depressing elevator music comes back on and Remus decides it is exactly the same as the ringing in his ears.

A minute passes and the deep voice returns, “So sorry for the wait. She’ll just be another second.”

“That’s fine, thank you.” He clicks around on his computer, making sure he moves his mouse around enough so that his boss doesn’t get suspicious.

Godric’s Hollow Library needs to invest in new music considering how often they seem to put their customers on hold. He’s heard the same song a million times and his original interest in it is long gone, leaving a deep sense of dread and despair in its absence. It’s shockingly depressing. He never thought elevator music could be depressing but he has certainly been proven wrong.

And now he feels a bit bad for hanging up on Sirius because Orion (what kind of name is Orion?) put him on hold too, so Minerva is clearly a busy woman and Remus hung up on Sirius because he thought he was just being a jerk. Which, he is a jerk, he’s always a jerk, but this time he wasn’t, he was just doing his job as a volunteer and Remus hung up on him. Remus was the jerk this time.

He’s not used to that. He’s not usually the jerk. Well…

“Hey, so she’s just finishing up and then she’ll be all yours.”

“Okay.” He pauses, blinking at his computer as he thinks. “That’s…that’s fine.”

“I’m going to put you on hold again.”

Does Godric Hollow Library have some script its volunteers need to follow? Why is everything this guy is saying the exact same as what Sirius was saying earlier? Every phrase is the exact same that Sirius said, word-for-word. How odd is - oh my god.

Remus groans and lets his head fall against his desk with a thud. He lets out a laugh of disbelief that would almost make him feel embarrassed if he wasn’t alone in his office on a phone call with a man-child who keeps putting him on hold.

“Okay, Minerva is just finishing up. It’ll be just another moment, promise.”

“You know what, Orion? You may actually be able to help me,” he smiles to himself. He deserves some fun now.

“Oh,” he pauses. “Uh, of course. But Minerva is almost done, really, it’ll just be another second.”

“No, no. I think you can help me.”

“Great!” He says, his voice strained. “Yeah, uh, sure. What,” he clears his throat, “Is it you need help with?”

“I’m looking for a book.”

“Well, we are a library so we should have some of those.”

Remus can perfectly envision the irritated look that must be on his face - the downturn of his lips, the furrow of his eyebrow, the twitch of his left eye. It makes Remus’ smile grow. “Would you see if you have the specific one I’m looking for?”

“Sure. What’s the title?”

“You know,” Remus laughs. “I’m not exactly sure.”

A deep sigh and Remus imagines his right eye must be twitching by now. “Do you know the author?”

“Can’t say that I do…” Remus says.

He scoffs, terribly covers it with a cough. “I’m afraid I can’t help you if you do not know the title of the book or the author of the book.”

“Ah,” Remus sighs. “But I know exactly where it is and what it looks like.”

“You know where it is and what it looks like but can’t remember the title?”

Remus doesn’t think about the fact that he kind of has a point, quickly moves the conversation forward. “It should be in the nonfiction section.”

He can hear rustling on the other end of the phone. “Where, exactly, in the nonfiction section? We have a lot of books in the nonfiction section,” he grumbles.

Remus repeatedly taps his pen against his desk and hums. “I think…hmm, I think it may be on the far wall, the shelf under the window where you guys keep the educational textbooks.”

“You know, it’s a bit ridiculous to expect me to look for a book that you don’t even know the title of.”

“Gosh, I know. Silly me.”

“We have a lot of books in this section.”

“You’ve said,” Remus mumbles.

“We have a lot of books, period. We’re sort of a library.”

“No kidding? Here I was thinking I called the sewage and plumbing department.”

“Familiar with that department, are you?”

“Yes, Orion, I was actually speaking to the president of the department earlier, though he kept putting me on hold. They gave him the job thanks to his cesspit of a personality, apparently.”

“Lucky you, speaking to the president. Must have felt that your specific case of sewage was worthy of some serious attention,” he grumbles.

“Oh, yes, my case was very serious.”

“Has all this rambling reminded you of the title of that book you’re looking for?” He asks.

“Mmm,” Remus hums. “I’m afraid not. But, you know…I think it’s in the psychology section.”

“In the psychology section?”

“Mmhm.”

“We have five whole bookshelves in the psychology section. You’ll just need to come in and find the book yourself,” he says, the sound of irritation in his voice growing by the minute.

“Come on, I really do need your help locating this book. And I know exactly what the cover looks like.”

A pause and a deep sigh. “What does it look like?”

“It’s a pretty big book and it’s purple.”

“Purple?”

“Mmhm.”

“A large, educational psychology textbook with a purple cover?”

“Mmhm.”

The phone is silent for a moment before he huffs, “You really think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“Sirius, I’m sorry, Orion, I’m still looking for my book.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure you need it,” Sirius grumbles.

“I really do. See, unfortunately, I know this guy and I just can’t put my finger on what’s wrong with him.”

“Yeah, and you’re not going to find it in the fucking DSM-5.”

“Are you sure? The book covers a wide range of mental illnesses, Sirius. I’m sure we can get you diagnosed.”

“I’m hanging up on you.”

“You don’t need to tell someone you’re hanging up on them. You just hang up on them.”

Sirius is silent for so long Remus has to check his phone to see if he actually has hung up. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Your accent is shit,” Remus lies. Sirius' accent was weirdly good, but Remus isn’t going to say that he knew it was Sirius because he recognized the way that he speaks. That would just be weird. “What the fuck is an Orion?”

“S’my middle name,” he mumbles.

“Oh god,” Remus laughs. “Oh, you poor fool.”

“Yeah, whatever, John.”

Remus’ smile drops off his face in a comical fashion and he blinks in confusion. “How on Earth do you know my middle name?”

“Lily told me.”

“Why would she tell you?”

“I asked.”

“And why would you ask?” The phone is silent again, only the distant sounds of people talking in the background and the quiet sounds of Sirius breathing. “Sirius?”

“Yeah.”

“Put Minerva on the phone.”

“Yeah,” he sighs.

***

Bright and early on Saturday morning, Remus takes his surprisingly chipper self to MarBean’s for a morning treat. A coffee, maybe a chocolate croissant since he’s had such a hard week. Emails, phone calls, meetings - he deserves a croissant.

Lily and James are planting begonias in their front yard when he leaves, Harry buckled into a swing that hangs from their large oak tree. He waves hello, James’ dirt-covered hand waving back.

The world feels brighter today - sunnier and warmer and just all around lovelier. Remus is grinning to himself as he strolls all the way down Main Street to the cafe, occasionally nodding and smiling at passersby.

He’s a changed man. A more mature, happier, friendlier man is what he is. He ought to keep it up.

The cafe is fairly empty when he pulls open the blue front door. He greets Marlene with a friendly smile, “Good morning!”

She stares at him, her lips set in a firm line. “What do you want?”

Remus’ smile tightens a little bit as he blinks. He’s still cheerful! The sun is bright, the birds are chirping, he’s a mature and happy man, dammit!

“Large iced mocha, please.”

“We don’t have any chocolate croissants,” she mumbles as she reaches for an ice cup. Fuck happiness and bright sunny morning - can’t he have anything? All he wanted was a goddamn coffee and a chocolate croissant, and whaddya know? They’re out of croissants! What are the odds?

Remus pauses digging in his wallet and raises a questioning eyebrow, Marlene scoffing and dismissively waving her hand. “You always order a chocolate croissant when you get a large coffee and we don’t have any.”

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Um.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. You’re in here, like, all the time.” She writes on his cup and rolls her eyes, something Remus knows is actually a kindness from Marlene. He smiles to himself as he grabs a five-dollar bill from his wallet. Maybe the day isn’t that bad after all!

“There’s a line.” And Remus would recognize that voice anywhere. He looks over his shoulder to see Sirius in line behind him, standing impatiently with his hands on his hips.

“What food do you have?” Remus asks. Marlene blinks before glancing over at the half-empty display case.

“Bread.”

“Mmm,” Remus shakes his head.

“Danishes.”

“Hmm,” he shakes his head again.

“Muffins.”

“Oh, yes that may do,” Remus nods seriously. “Would you happen to have any blueberry?”

“One.”

“Oh, how wonderful. I’ll take it.”

Today is a good day!

He can hear Sirius scoff behind him as he pays for his things. “You took my blueberry muffin.”

“Sorry?” Remus laughs.

“My blueberry muffin. You took it.”

“How?”

“I…you,” he flings his hands out in a very theatrical gesture. “There’s only one.”

“Yes, and I was in line in front of you and ordered it.”

“You hate blueberries.”

“How do you know I hate blueberries?”

(Remus does hate blueberries.)

“See! You hate blueberries!”

“Maybe I’ve changed.”

(He hasn’t.)

“I love blueberry muffins. I have one every day.”

“Well, maybe today will be a good day for you to try something new.”

“I don’t want to try something new.”

“That’s no way to live, Sirius. New things are good.”

“I want the blueberry muffin.”

“Well, you better get baking because it's mine.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“I ordered a blueberry muffin on purpose?” Remus asks with a laugh. “Yes, I did. Because Marlene said she had blueberry muffins and I wanted one, so I ordered it.”

Marlene slides his coffee cup across the counter to him and sets a brown paper bag containing his muffin next to the drink. He grabs his drink and stares at Sirius as takes a big sip. Sirius dramatically scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. He grabs his muffin before heading to the door, pausing at the exit in order to catch Sirius’ eye. Sirius narrows his eyes and scowls.

Remus smiles at him and drops the blueberry muffin into the garbage can.

He waves goodbye and walks out of the cafe.

Halfway into his walk his phone starts ringing, Remus having to try and juggle his coffee cup and keys in between his hands as he fumbles to grab it from his pocket. The keys slip out of his hand and he watches sadly as they fall to the concrete. He’s supposed to be having a nice day! He ignores them while he grabs his phone from his pocket and holds it up to his ear.

“Remus?” His mom says through the phone.

“Hold on a sec,” he mumbles as he leans down to pick up his keys. The keys are shoved back in his pocket and he adjusts how he’s holding his phone and coffee cup before starting to walk again. “Okay, I’m back. Hey, mom.”

“Hi, honey, sorry I missed your call earlier - I was with Daphne down the street helping her move out her cheating husband. Can you believe this, Remus, he was sleeping with his secretary. Young girl, probably early twenties. Such a big drama.”

“Yeah, crazy,” Remus mumbles. His mom continues to tell him all about Daphne's cheating husband and his mistress, filling in the gory details of different jewelry and lingerie purchases.

His mom moved to some small town down south a couple of months after his dad died. Remus had nearly worried himself to death about it, stressing about if she was making a rash decision selling the home they lived in for fifty-years and moving across the country, but she hasn’t seemed happier in years. She plants azaleas year-round and spends far too much time at their community pool. And far too much time gossiping, too. At least Remus comes by it honestly.

“And she sent these things, what is it called, honey? Screenchat? Screencrop? Chopshop? Something like that. She sent them all to his boss with all of the messages he sent her. A big scandal, really. Daphne thinks he may get fired. Of course, she’s relying on him for alimony, so she better hope that he doesn’t.”

Remus oohs and aahs occasionally, knowing it’ll be enough for his mother to continue on with her story. He loves her dearly, but he has to limit contact for his own well-being. A phone call once a week and that’s more than enough for him. They usually talk for an hour or so before he comes up with an excuse to hang up. His excuses have been getting a bit more far-fetched as the years go on.

She’s still talking about Daphne by the time he gets home, unlocks his door, and sits down on his couch. He puts her on speakerphone and absentmindedly scrolls through his phone, commenting on a post Lily made about the variety of rocks Harry saw on their park adventure today.

“I think she’s going to regret the divorce. I mean, everyone knows she was having a thing with the gardener. There’s speculation that Josie is his. Same eyes and nose. And the blonde hair. Deny it she may, we all know Daphne is a fake blonde - roots don’t lie, Remus.”

“Roots and DNA.”

“Exactly, honey. Oh, and get this - what was that?”

Remus blinks, confused. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Sorry, not you honey. I’m in here!”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Don’t worry about it, dear. Remus, honey, I gotta let you go.”

What.

His mother never hangs up on him.

“Is everything alright, mom?”

“Oh, yes, just dandy. You have a good day, alright, honey.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Thanks, mom,” he says confused. “Thanks for calling and telling me all about Daphne, I’ll need an update. I’ll talk to you next week?”

“Sounds good, honey. Oh, and Remus, be a dear and tell Sirius I said hello, okay?”

Remus suddenly stops scrolling and looks up to stare at his gray walls. He blinks, checks the name on his phone to make sure he is, in fact, talking to his mother. “Sirius? Did you say Sirius, mom?”

“Yes, honey. Tell him I said hello, okay? He’s such a doll.”

“He’s - what? Mom, what - how do you know Sirius?”

“Alright, I’ve got to get going, sweetie.”

“No, mom, hold on.”

“Talk to you next week.”

“Mom, wait. How do you know Sirius?”

“Love you!”

And she hangs up.

Remus stares at the screen of his phone and racks his brain for reasons as to why his mother knows who Sirius is. She can’t possibly. Maybe she meant a different Sirius?

There’s only one Sirius. Nobody else in the world has that stupid fucking name.

Maybe she meant ‘serious.’ She wants him to be serious and tell someone hello, but the phone cut out and he didn’t hear their name. That’s definitely it.

Yeah.

***

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! Catfish have over 27,000 taste buds, whereas humans only have 9,000! That sure is a lot!

Remus: that doesn’t seem fair.

Unknown: I'm sorry, Fun Fish Facts does not understand that command. If you are looking for help, text CANCEL to cancel your Fun Fish Facts subscription, UNSUBSCRIBE to unsubscribe from Fun Fish Facts, or PAUSE to pause your subscription to Fun Fish Facts.

Remus: do you have a block button?

Unknown: I'm sorry, Fun Fish Facts does not understand that command. If you are looking for help, text CANCEL to cancel your Fun Fish Facts subscription, UNSUBSCRIBE to unsubscribe from Fun Fish Facts, or PAUSE to pause your subscription to Fun Fish Facts.

Remus: mute

Unknown: I'm sorry, Fun Fish Facts does not understand that command. If you are looking for help, text CANCEL to cancel your Fun Fish Facts subscription, UNSUBSCRIBE to unsubscribe from Fun Fish Facts, or PAUSE to pause your subscription to Fun Fish Facts.

Remus: :(

Remus: i don’t even like fish

***

The scissors snip again and Remus can feel hair brushing against his shoulders. He brushes it off at the groaning of Mary, who smacks him on the head and reminds him to stop moving.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, moving again so he can get comfortable in his chair.

“You’re worse than a child,” she snaps. “I have cut hair for three-year-olds who are less wiggly than you.”

“I said I’m sorry!”

“Knock it off! You’re going to look all lopsided. Well, more than you already are.”

“You’re not funny,” he grumbles.

“I think I’m a hoot,” Mary smiles as she cuts another chunk off. “I told you not to wait so long between haircuts.”

“You’re mean when you cut hair.”

“Only yours. Have you been using the conditioner I told you to use? It’s all scraggly.”

“No, it was, like, a hundred dollars for a bottle.”

“Scraggly hair or money, Remus?”

“Money. Always money,” he nods. Mary grips his head tightly and holds him still. “And don’t call it scraggly!”

“It is scraggly.”

“You hairdressers are just like politicians,” he mumbles. “Always want my money.”

She stops cutting his hair and Remus doesn’t have to see her face to know the unimpressed look that’s there. “When’s the last time you gave a politician money?”

“…I don’t know.”

“Yeah, exactly. Shut up and hold still.”

He shuts up while Mary finishes his hair, snipping off the last few pieces before shoving his head under a faucet to wash it. Nicely smelling, probably expensive, products are slathered into his hair, less gently than he thinks Mary would do for an actual paying client, but decent enough.

He wipes a glob of some serum off his forehead. “Remember when you dyed my hair blue in high school?”

“God,” she laughs. “Do I ever. You looked horrible.”

“Rude.”

“Sorry, honey. Blue is not good for your complexion.”

“My mom still brings that up, you know.”

“I would hope so. It was a traumatic experience,” she says.

“Okay, and who, exactly, is at fault?”

“You and your skin.”

“Don’t blame my skin. You dyed it!”

“I needed practice!” she laughs. “I hadn’t learned about complementary tones yet.”

“I was a lab rat.”

“Yes, and you were a wonderful lab rat. Despite the wiggling.” She rubs a comb through his hair before digging around her bag to find her blow dryer. His hair is dry in less than ten minutes, Mary pulling a hand-held mirror out of his bag and handing it to him.

“Thanks, Mar,” he says as he hands it back. “I appreciate you not balding me.”

“It’s always very tempting,” she mumbles as she shoves her things back in her bag. “I don’t think you’d have a nicely shaped head to pull off bald. Get me something to drink and I’ll clean everything up.”

He does as she says, filling two glasses full of raspberry lemonade that one of the Weasley kids was selling for a school fundraiser. He can never tell them apart with their red hair, green eyes, and freckles. When he first moved here he made the grave mistake of asking Lily if she was a member of the Weasley family. He has not made that mistake since.

“Here,” he says as he hands Mary her glass. She nods in thanks and flips through the channels on his TV until she stops on HGTV. “Ew, no. Change it, I hate them.”

“You hate all of them.”

“They’re all dumb and have horrible taste.”

“You’re dumb and have horrible taste.”

“At least I don’t subject other people to my horrible taste.”

“I don’t know, I’ve seen your outfits.”

He sips his lemonade before leaning his head back against the couch. “It’s always so much fun when you come over to my home and insult me.”

“Glad you think so too,” she says. A moment later, “Sorry, I’m still in a bad mood.”

“Clearly,” he mumbles.

“I’m getting over it, promise. It’ll all be behind me in about five days. Hopefully.”

“I fear that you said that about five days ago.”

“Then what’s five more days, right?”

“How’s your mom?” He asks, hoping to direct the conversation to safer territory.

“Hah!” She barks out a humorless laugh. “Getting married.”

“What?” He asks loudly, bolting up from lounging on the couch and staring at her with wide eyes.

“She called last night and told me. That guy she met two months ago?” Remus nods, vividly remembering the guy Mary’s mother claimed to be the ‘love of her life.’ They met at a birthday party. For the guy's wife. “Yeah, they’re getting married. He divorced his wife and now they are free to walk the chapel.”

“Wasn’t the wife - ”

“Pregnant? Yes. It’s a mess, Remus. I didn’t even know my mom's divorce was finalized. I thought she was still married to that guy she met at the gas station.”

“Henry?”

“No, Alexander, I think. Henry was the one she met at AA,” she grumbles. She shakes her head, “Whatever. They’ll be married for a couple months and she’ll get divorced again.”

“I’d kill to be her lawyer,” he mumbles. “He must make a killing.”

“Yeah, well, she married her first lawyer,” Mary laughs harshly. “She had to find a new one.”

“God, Mary - ”

“Don’t even say it. I can't deal with her right now. I’ll call her again next year and she’ll probably be engaged and expecting, for my fucking luck. Tell me about your mom, please?”

“Her neighbor got cheated on, but she reckons it’s okay since she cheated first with the gardener,” he answers. He hesitates for a moment, deciding whether he wants to tell her or not. Eventually he says, “I think she’s met someone. She won’t tell me.”

“Really?” Mary smiles softly.

“It’s an assumption,” he shrugs. “I just get the feeling whenever we talk.”

“Once a week on Saturday,” she says fondly. “How do we feel about that?”

“Haven’t decided yet.”

“She’s been single…what? Ten years now?”

“Something like that,” he mumbles, even though he knows it’s been exactly ten years since his dad died and his mother became single.

“Well. Maybe it’s a good thing.”

“Maybe it is.”

The conversation dies, both of them focusing intently on the TV as the home renovators tear out the living room carpet to find underneath all moldy and wet. Remus watches in amusement as they panic about removing the mold, everything eventually working out and the living room getting a fresh set of gray vinyl flooring.

“Busy week?” He asks when the episode ends and an Applebee’s commercial starts.

“Yes,” she huffs. “Caroline booked a last-minute appointment for Monday morning, and she’s a right pain in my ass. Marlene wants to dye her hair and, you know Marlene, she doesn’t know what color. We can be red, blue, pink - God only knows. And then I have Julie on Tuesday and she’s a platinum card, and a bitchy one at that. And Sirius wants me to try and squeeze him in some time to cut his hair, as if I don’t have a wait list going three months out.”

“Sirius wants to cut his hair?”

“Easy now.”

He clears his throat and takes a sip of his lemonade. Bitter. “I thought Julie was a natural blonde?”

Mary winks at him before answering, “Remus, she has roots darker than me. And nobody is naturally that blonde.”

“Okay, I didn’t go to cosmetology school.”

“Did you go to school school? That’s, like, common sense, I fear.”

“James didn’t know that wisdom teeth were in your mouth,” he says in an effort to defend himself.

Mary’s head snaps in his direction, a bright grin forming on her face. “What?” She asks with a laugh.

“Yeah,” he nods. “He thought it was something in your brain.”

“He thought teeth were in the brain?”

“Mhmm. He said he didn’t think they were actually teeth, he thought it was just what they called it. Like how an ostrich is a bird even though it can’t fly.”

“They don’t classify birds by their ability to fly.”

“Yeah, he didn’t know that either,” Remus says with a smile.

“James has a PhD, doesn’t he?”

“Yup.”

“Lord help us.”

“Yup.”

***

Lily hands him a wine glass filled to the brim with some expensive red wine that he can’t pronounce the name of and he takes a giant sip. She runs a hand through his curls before sitting in the seat next to him.

“How was work, honey?” She asks while pouring a giant glass of wine for herself. She sets the bottle down with a loud thunk, nearly spilling the whole thing. Remus catches it at the last second, only a couple drops spilling out of the bottle.

“Long and dreadful,” he answers as he uses his napkin to wipe away the spill. Lily smiles in thanks and takes a sip of her wine. “How was your day?”

“Why do Remus and Lily sound more married than Lily and I?” James asks as he slides a chair out and sits down, Sirius sitting in the chair next to him. James hands Sirius a bottle of beer, some dark-looking crap with a giant bear on the label. Remus reckons it tastes like ass.

Remus had stepped outside to check his mail this afternoon when Lily ran across the street to tell him he had to come to dinner tonight, promising that James was going to make his favorite German chocolate cake for dessert so he simply couldn’t miss it. She conveniently forgot to mention the fourth guest that’d be at the table - and unfortunately for Remus, it wasn’t Harry. Potter or Styles. If Sirius’ face when Remus walked into the Potter house was anything to go by, he was also uninformed.

He had considered the ramifications of turning around and heading home, after all, it was only about thirty feet away - he could certainly manage that. But Remus only has a loaf of bread in his house and Lily did promise him cake, so here he is sitting at the table. With a very large and very full glass of wine.

And Sirius sitting right across from him.

“Because you're married to Sirius,” Lily answers. She reaches over to grab Remus’ hand and intertwines their fingers together, “Remus and I are eloping.”

“Fine, Sirius and I are going to find an Elvis,” James throws an arm over the back of Sirius’ chair. Sirius nods in agreement and fumbles to throw his arm over James’ chair. The action is flawed, James and Sirius’ arms bumping into each other with a loud smack. James groans dramatically, cradles his arm to his chest, and rubs at the big red spot already forming on his skin.

Lily and James quietly stare at each other for a second, each with their arms wrapped around someone else, before both yelling out, “I call Allan!”

Remus looks at them both skeptically, his eyebrows furrowed and a quirk of his lips. “Do you both prefer your cat over your child?”

“Have a child Remus, and you will come to prefer a cup of flour over it,” James answers with a genuine smile.

“Where is the little tot?” Sirius asks, moving James’ arm so it’s resting more comfortably over his shoulders.

“At mom and dads.” James pulls Sirius closer to him so they’re touching, Sirius settling into the touch and resting his head on James’ shoulder. “Parents night out!”

“More like parents night in,” Lily mumbles. She keeps her hand interlocked with Remus’ and uses her thumb to absentmindedly rub circles against his skin, something she always does with Harry. “I needed to not be near him tonight. I have a permanent bite mark on my arm.”

“And not the fun kind,” James grumbles.

“Anyway, we’ll flip a coin for the baby. I’ll mail you the divorce papers in the morning, James, and Remus and I shall be wed by next week.”

“I don’t think marriages work that quickly,” Remus says, mostly to himself.

“They will for me.”

“Fine, we’ll get married tomorrow, right Sirius?” James says with a firm nod of his head.

Sirius nods enthusiastically, “Damn right, baby!”

“How did I get dragged into this marriage?” Remus turns to ask Lily. She tilts her head as if she’s taking him in and drags her eyes slowly up his body with a judgmental squint of her eyes.

“Because you're so handsome and lovable and such good marriage material,” she coos. Lily lets go of his hand to bring it to his face and squish his cheeks.

The chair scrapes against the hardwood floor with a loud squeak as Remus squirms to try and get away from her. He bats away her hand and scoffs, “The fuck I am.”

Lily pats him once on the cheek before removing her hands entirely and going back to drinking her wine. “Now, tell me why work sucked, honey-pie.”

James groans and Sirius laughs and Remus can faintly hear them making plans to buy tickets to Vegas in the morning. Remus starts on his tirade about why work sucked today, full of dramatics and exaggerations, while Lily listens intently.

They just finished dinner, James’ famous chicken cafreal. James and Sirius cleaned up the kitchen while Lily dug around in the basement to find a bottle of wine, the first one already killed off. They’ve been chatting around the table for the last ten minutes now, Sirius and Remus conveniently avoiding conversation with each other, like they’ve done all evening.

Remus has kept conversation with Lily, only vaguely overhearing bits and pieces of James and Sirius’ conversation through dinner, remarks like ‘Give me a bowl and some scissors and I’ll give you a chopping haircut’ and ‘You dick, I absolutely could live on the moon if I wanted to’ and ‘He was knuckle-deep thinking about his taxes, for fucks sake.’

He stopped eavesdropping after that one.

“That’s what I told him,” Remus sighs longingly as he explains the horrors of his day. “It’s basically a porn book, Lily. I read through it and annotated it. There were ten paragraphs of plot. A three-hundred page book and I counted ten paragraphs of plot.”

Lily giggles into her glass of wine. “When, uh, when is this book supposed to come out?”

Remus smacks her on the thigh and downs the rest of his wine. “Hopefully never. The author described his dick as a ‘meat-member,’ Lily. There’s no way we’re publishing it. And I’ll eat my shoe if we do.”

“What’s a meat-member?” James suddenly asks, now tuning into the conversation. Sirius pretends like he’s not listening, picking at his nails and staring at the beige wall next to him, but Remus can tell by the narrowing of his eyes that he’s focusing on trying to listen in.

“Take a guess, James,” Lily laughs.

“Hotdog? Sausage? A worker at a meat factory? Oh! Is it like a butcher?”

“Dick,” Remus answers.

James gasps back in affront, his face wrinkled in offense. “Bitch.”

“No,” Remus groans. “It’s a dick. A meat-member is a dick.”

James’ nose scrunches up in disgust. He looks over at Sirius, who’s using his nails to push his cuticles back. James starts to speak before stopping himself, “Wait, why are you talking about dicks with my wife?”

Remus laughs and answers him, “It’s from a book that I had to read for work, they sent a copy over for us t - ”

“I think chocolate chip cookies are my favorites,” Sirius interjects. “But I hate how easily they are to confuse with oatmeal raisins. I hate oatmeal raisins. I mean, who thought it was a good idea to put raisins in a cookie? Oatmeal is fine, I guess, but raisins? That’s for trail mix.”

“Your turn,” Remus smiles.

Sirius feigns surprise, a hand to his heart, “I thought you were done.”

“Yes, because people often like to stop speaking in the middle of their sentences.”

“Ah, so you see my confusion, huh?” Sirius smiles.

“Remus, finish your story, hun,” Lily giggles, the alcohol going straight to her head and making her giddy and bubbly. She takes another sip of her wine, “And tell me the name of that book.”

Remus does finish his story, and tells Lily the name of the book, before the conversation moves onto the topic of Vera Molin being pregnant again, something Lily is certain about, but hasn’t gotten confirmation of. Something about a womanly sixth sense, Remus thinks she’s full of shit.

“How ‘bout it, Lils? Wanna push out some more children?” James asks with a cheeky smile.

Lily scoffs and declares her uterus is closed for business, that one Harry is far more than enough and she’d actually implode if she had to manage two of them.

“Oh, come on!” James whines dramatically. “I have all of their names picked out.”

“Oh, do you?” Lily asks, a threatening tone in her voice that makes his smile grow.

“Yes! Next we’ll have a little Wispy Potter, and then we’ll get Shaggy, Furry, Bushy, Bristly, Stubbly, and finally a little Bald Potter.”

“Poor Bushy,” Remus mumbles under his breath.

“What about Stubbly?” Sirius asks with a dramatic whisper.

“You’re both ignoring Furry. Poor kid would be bullied to death!” Lily laughs. “And Bald? Way to alienate the child straight from birth!”

“I feel like that’s really not the main reason you shouldn’t name your child Bald,” Remus says.

“Yeah,” Sirius nods. “You should do Baldy.”

“Oooh,” James gasps with a snap of his fingers. “I like Baldy.”

“We are not naming our child Baldy.”

“Why not? If he has hair we can just shave it off!”

“We will not be shaving our child’s hair off! Especially not to match its name!”

“You should name one Pink and dye its hair pink,” Sirius chimes in.

James snaps his fingers in agreement, “Yes!”

“How many children am I having at this point? Thirteen?” Lily asks in disbelief. She scoffs before drowning the rest of her wine. Remus quickly reaches out to grab the bottle and fills both of their glasses back up.

“I can think of thirteen different names,” James shrugs.

“The names aren’t the hard part, James,” she sighs.

“James! That can be number ten!” Sirius yells. James nods in dramatic agreement, his eyes wide and a giant grin on his face.

“Remus,” Lily snaps, turning so her whole body is facing him. Her cheeks are tinged pink from the wine, her red hair messier than usual. “Tell me about your date with Benjy.”

“Uh, he had to reschedule,” Remus answers with a shrug. “Something about his grandma and accidentally leaving the fence open, I don’t know. I didn’t - ”

“I’m going to get my haircut,” Sirius butts in. “Mary keeps trying to convince me to do bangs but I think it’s because she’s conspiring against me. Marlene agreed with her so that’s how I know. But Dorcas recommended a wolf cut and I do think that could work…” Sirius taps a finger against his chin.

They spend the next ten minutes discussing anything and everything to do with Sirius’ hair.

Should he get a perm? No, perms are hard to maintain.

Should he get a buzz cut? No, he may have an oddly shaped head.

Should he dye it a different color? No, the black suits him. And he can’t change his last name, that’s far too much work.

Should he grow it even longer? No, it makes his neck all sweaty and he hates it when the wind blows it in his mouth.

Lily finally decides she’s had enough and looks back to Remus to grill him for more information on Benjy. He tells her all about how he had decided to text Benjy last Saturday after they met at Fabian’s and how they had agreed to meet, going for coffee that Sunday morning.

“So, coffee turned into lunch?” Lily asks with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Coffee turned into lunch,” Remus confirms. “But lunch turned into goodbye. I don’t know - he was nice, but kind of boring. And he was blonde. I hate blon - ”

“I found a funny-shaped rock in my backyard,” Sirius pipes up, stopping his remark to James about micro-bangs mid-sentence. “It kind of looked like a hamburger, but it also didn’t. It was a funny color too, kind of like a gray, but also not…It was the size of my palm too, so it was pretty big. But not bigger than my palm, so not really that big.”

Sirius describes the rock he found in great detail, including the shapes he found in the markings and comparing the size of it to various organs, until James finally gets him to stop by asking him about his motorcycle.

“God, you couldn’t pay me to get on one of those,” Lily huffs. “My mom was a nurse. She would smite me if I ever even looked at one.”

“My mom too,” Remus says with a small laugh. “I used to have one back in the city and every time she visited she would - ”

“Did you guys know it’s bird mating season?” Sirius asks. “Yeah, I saw a couple bluebirds going at it yesterday morning. It's salmon mating season too, by the way. We should be seeing lots of baby salmon and birds pretty soon. Pretty weird how the moms feed their babies, isn’t it? Would totally suck if humans did that. Could you imagine, Lily? You chew up some steak and spit it into Harry and Wispy’s mouth. Pretty weird, I think.”

Lily blinks at him for a second before breaking off into a tangent about how the ways a mother feeds her child isn’t weird, it’s natural. They spend the next five minutes arguing about which they would prefer - breastfeeding or regurgitating.

Breastfeeding wins - mostly because Lily declares it the winner, as the only woman involved in the conversation.

“Speaking of breasts…” Lily smirks, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Becky Sanders.”

“Big Boob Becky?” James asks in shock.

“She was mysteriously M.I.A the past four weeks at yoga, and she showed up yesterday - at least twice as big as they were.”

“Oh, there’s no way they’re real,” Remus agrees. “They’re totally - ”

“I bought a plant at the farmers market last week and it’s totally already dead,” Sirius smiles. “It was something called a snake plant. Christopher said it was near impossible to kill and somehow I did. He said he’d replace it for me, but I think that’s just because he wants to get in my pants again. I guess I can take him out, but do I really want a plant that badly? Christopher was totally dull. And there’s Fabian. I totally made Fabian jealous when I went to the bar with Lori the other night. Like, wow, that was some good fuc - ”

“Alright,” Remus claps his hands and gets up from the table. “Thanks for dinner, James. Thanks for the wine, Lily.”

He places a quick kiss against Lily’s forehead, her cold fingers gripping his wrist to stop him while she pours the last of the wine into his glass. She hands it to him with an apologetic smile.

“Thanks again for the food,” he says while pushing his chair in. “See you tomorrow, probably.”

He smiles tightly at Sirius.

“Sirius,” he nods.

“Goodnight, Remus,” Sirius smiles sweetly at him and waves goodbye.

***

Remus takes a deep breath and imagines he’s sitting somewhere calming, the ocean or a library. He counts to five in his head before plastering on his friendliest fake smile and crossing the street.

“Sirius! So good to see you again,” Remus sits down in the empty spot on the bench and smiles. It’s fake and performative, but he hopes it looks at least a little bit natural.

It must not, because Sirius looks over at him skeptically and quirks an eyebrow. “Remus.”

Remus clears his throat and crosses his leg, shifting so he’s sitting further away from Sirius on the small bench. The heat of Sirius’ thigh is an unwelcome absence as soon as he moves away, but that thought is pushed down, down, down.

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

“That’s great. Good,” Remus nods. “I was looking for you.”

Sirius smirks and tilts his head to the side in a way that makes his hair artfully fall over his shoulder. Remus wonders if it’s practiced or if things just work for Sirius. “People often are.”

“Cocky,” he says through gritted teeth. “How far has your attitude gotten you in life?”

“Well, I’m sitting here and sharing a bench with you… so not as far as one would hope.”

“I thought you were supposed to be polite?”

“This is me being polite.”

“I’ve heard differently. You spent all day yesterday mowing Glenda’s lawn and planting her petunias and gardenias. And then you did the same for Molly, Miss Martha, Gertrude, Caroline, and Poppy.”

Remus heard that goddamn lawn mower going all day long. His work was interrupted, the sound of the lawnmower distracting him all morning to the point he packed his stuff up and worked from MarBean’s for the second half of the day.

He has half a mind to think it was intentional - Sirius mowing all of Remus’ neighbor's lawns from 6AM to 3PM. He spent all day mowing the laws of Remus’ neighbors, even though Sirius doesn’t live on their street! Five blocks over, in one of the largest houses in town, you can find Sirius and his stupid motorcycle. But Remus can’t hear a lawnmower from five blocks away.

“This is me being polite to you,” Sirius says, a patronizing tone that makes Remus want to scream.

“It’s awfully similar to when you’re being rude to me.”

“Maybe there’s a reason for that.”

Sirius looks so pretty in the sunlight. It’s afternoon and the sun is at the perfect height to make Sirius’ skin look like glass and his eyes shine. Although, maybe that’s just the way Sirius looks.

Maybe his skin is just naturally dewy and his eyes naturally bright. Maybe his hair is naturally glossy and silky. Maybe his lips are naturally that plump and pink. Maybe the sun doesn’t make him look like he has a glowing aura following him around, maybe he just does.

He looked so peaceful before Remus ambushed him, sitting alone on the park bench and scribbling away in his notebook. Remus could just make out the magnolia tree he was drawing as he inched his way closer. He almost didn’t want to interrupt him, but he got quite enough of Sirius’ interruptions at dinner with the Potter’s so he easily pushed that thought away.

“What do you want, Remus?” Sirius snaps, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Maybe he’s a dick and Remus hates him.

“I was thinking about what you said last night and I baked you some cookies.”

Sirius’ pen drops from his hand with a thunk. “Huh?” He asks, his voice uncharacteristically shrill.

Remus digs into his backpack and pulls out a large container full of cookies. Sirius looks at him skeptically as Remus pushes the container toward him with a smile.

They stare at each other in silence for an impressive ten seconds before Sirius yanks the container out of his hands and blinks. “Are they going to poison me?”

“Where do you think I’d get access to poison?” He asks with a huff.

“Knowing you, you’d probably find one that’s specific for me.”

“Mmm,” he hums. “Unfortunately, Sirius-Poison is hard to come by. Supply-shortage. Lots of people in desperate need.”

“Oh, I’m sure they are.”

“Yeah,” Remus nods regretfully. “I went to the Poison Convention last fall and there was a line going out the door for the stall carrying the Anti-Sirius stuff. Funny enough, the Anthrax line only went to the food court.”

He rolls his eyes, so dramatically his shoulders follow. “You didn’t poison them?”

“Obviously.”

“How can I trust that?”

“Do you think I’d be willing to spend the rest of my life in prison for you?”

He smirks, “Many are.”

Remus rolls his eyes and pretends that his face is only flushed because of the sun. “My point stands. You’re not worth my poison, Sirius.”

“Is that a compliment or should I be offended?”

“Yes.”

Sirius looks down skeptically at the cookies. “I don’t trust you.”

“And I am so shocked by that news.”

“If they’re not poisoned, you would eat one.” He opens the container and holds the container out to Remus. “I get to pick which one.”

Remus holds his hands out in surrender as Sirius looks at the cookies, occasionally picking one up, only to set it down and swap it for another one. Eventually, he finds a suitable cookie and hands it to Remus, who takes a bite out of the cookie and moans. It really is good.

Not because he made them, of course.

James is an excellent baker.

Sirius snatches the cookie out of his hand and inspects it, splits a piece of it off, and sniffs it. The cookie is centimeters from his eye and he narrows them and stares at it, inspecting it for poison - though Remus isn’t sure he’d actually be able to see poison. Not that they’re poisoned.

“They’re not poisoned?”

“Of course not.” Remus reaches over to steal his cookie back and pops another bite in his mouth. “I do hope you like them.”

“What…uh, what are they?”

“Oatmeal raisin.”

Sirius’ smile turns from natural to mean as he squints his eyes. He lets out a big breath, “My favorite. I can’t wait to try them.”

“Mmhm,” Remus hums. He looks down at the container of cookies and points to the left half, “Those ones aren’t oatmeal raisin.”

“They’re not?” Sirius asks as his eyes narrow, once again looking at the cookies skeptically.

Remus shakes his head. “Those ones are chocolate chip.”

“Oh,” Sirius whispers. He looks back up at Remus and Remus wonders if he’s crazy or if there’s a faint blush on his cheeks. Must also be from the sun.

“Yeah, it’s my mom's special recipe.”

That is true, actually.

“Oh, that's…that’s really great. Thank you.” Sirius smiles at him genuinely. Remus can count on one finger how many times that’s happened.

Remus nods. He waits until Sirius is about to pick up one of the cookies, “Chocolate chip and coconut.”

Sirius’ smile drops and he quickly replaces it with an impressive sneer. “Coconut?”

“Interesting combination, isn’t it? But you’ll love it, everyone does.”

“I’m allergic to coconut,” he grits out, his fist closing around the plastic container.

“Oh, no,” Remus says calmly.

“I could have died.”

“You go into anaphylactic shock from just looking at a coconut?”

“It’s the principle of the matter!”

“Sirius, I had no idea you were allergic to coconut. Isn’t it your responsibility, as the person with the allergy, to ensure your food is allergen-friendly?”

He did, in fact, know. The comment at the bar the other night was his first clue, but James repeatedly warning him that Sirius cannot have any when Remus had asked him to make the special cookies is what really sealed the deal.

“Who puts coconut in a fucking cookie!?”

“The Girl Scouts, the French, - ”

“Oh, shut it.” Sirius shoves the container of cookies back into Remus’ hand and takes off. Remus finishes his cookie and basks in the sun for a moment before he heads home, eager to enjoy the rest of his Sunday afternoon.

Chapter Text

“It’s Lily!” Lily yells as his front door bursts open, her hands full with bottles and bags. The door flies against the wall with a loud bang, the handle slamming into the already present dent living in the drywall. Lily uses her foot to slam it shut and drops the endless items in her hands on the floor.

Remus throws the frozen pizza in the oven with a shrug - if it burns, it burns - before yelling back, “Where’s Mar?”

“On her way. She got caught up with a client so she’s about twenty minutes late.”

“Should’ve just shaved their head,” he laughs.

“Normally I’d agree,” she yells from the living room. Remus can barely hear her over the rustling of plastic bags and the clanking of glass bottles. “But you know how Sirius is with his hair.”

“Oh, she definitely should’ve shaved his head, then.” He joins her in the living room, digging through her bags until he finds a bottle of cheap screw-top white wine. He drinks a gulp straight from the bottle before passing it to Lily, who does the same. “Sure, Mary is nice, and, sure, if she ended up in a body-bag, I would mourn accordingly. But I think a bald Sirius would more than make up for it.”

“I think Mary would disagree.”

“Irrelevant, she’d be dead.”

Lily rolls her eyes and steals the remote from his hand with a triumphant laugh before flipping through the channels until she finds HGTV, conveniently ignoring Remus as he reminds her it’s on channel fifteen. Their annoying home renovation show isn’t on, so instead they watch two school teachers decide between which half-a-million-dollar home they want to buy. (They choose the wrong one.)

After a couple seconds of silence, Lily repeatedly muting the commercials with a frustrated groan, the episode ends and a new one starts, featuring a stay-at-home dad and a garden soil tester. Lily sniffs, her nose scrunched up in disgust. “Remus, what did you set the oven to?”

“Uh, whatever…uh, the…whatever the box said,” he lies.

“Remus.”

“Like, 500, I think. I just kept pushing the up arrow until it stopped going up.”

“You can’t put an oven on 500!” She yells as she jumps off the couch and runs into the kitchen. The sound of the oven door being yanked open echoes throughout his house, a sudden cloud of smoke joining it. “Remus, it's on 550!”

Lily coughs incredibly dramatically. And for more dramatic effect, and no other reason, his smoke alarm starts going off, a repeated loud and blaring beep beep beep. Lily jumps up and down underneath the smoke detector, frantically waving her hand to try and clear the smoke. Remus watches her from the couch, reaching over to find the remote and pause the episode since he can no longer hear it.

“Is it done?” He yells while he uses a hand to fan the smoke away from his face.

“Is it done!? Remus, it’s cauterized! It’s fucking black! You could toast a marshmallow on it! ‘Is it done!?’”

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed.”

“I could build a house with this!” There’s a distant pounding sound and Remus thinks she must be banging the mildly overcooked pizza against his kitchen counter. “How did you fuck this up?”

“It was an honest mistake, could happen to anyone.”

“550! Remus, who the hell thinks to put their oven on 550! That’s outrageous.”

“I thought it would be done faster…” he mumbles as he scratches at his eyebrow.

“Idiot!” She’s still waving her hand under the smoke detector, the blasted thing still beeping. “Stupid fucking goddamn bastard-ass motherfucking cunt of a - ”

“Mary is here!” Mary sings as she dramatically whips his front door open, his wall taking another beating from the door handle. Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene in front of her, the blue hue of the smoke-cloudy room, the constant beeping of the smoke detector, the dulcet tones of Lily yelling profanities from his kitchen.

“Hi Mary,” he smiles. “Welcome to my home.”

“Am I in Hell?”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“What’s going on?” She asks with a cough.

“Remus, the fucking idiot - ”

“There was an accident,” he answers. “A simple misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding my ass! The idiot set his oven to 550 degrees!” Lily yells.

“I didn’t know you knew how to set an oven,” Mary cheers. “Way to go! I never thought I’d see the day.”

Remus gives her a bashful smile while waving a dismissive hand in front of his face (mostly to try and clear away more smoke).

“Do not praise him! He nearly burned me alive,” Lily yells as she walks into the kitchen, her right hand clutched around a slightly crispy pizza. “You know that’s number one on my list of least favorite ways to die.”

“It was a misunderstanding!” Remus stresses.

“A misunderstanding between your brain and common sense!”

“Is this the offender?” Mary asks, using her head to gesture at the gently-charred pizza. “Jesus. Trying to cook it or kill it, Remus?”

“If the oven isn’t supposed to go that high, why does it go that high?”

Mary is quiet for a moment before she points at him and nods, “He has a point.”

“No, he doesn’t!” Lily yells. “He has no points. He’s lost the right to points.”

“You can’t take away my right to points.”

“You nearly burned me alive.”

“We would’ve gotten out in time!”

“I would have!”

Remus rolls his eyes, digs around in the couch cushions until he finds the remote to unpause the show. “Oh, God, please no,” Mary groans. “How do you guys watch this crap?”

“This is quality television, MacDonald,” Lily says primly. “Your insinuations are cruel and unfair.”

“Making me watch this is cruel and unfair,” Mary mumbles under her breath.

“Remus,” Lily says loudly, clearly ignoring Mary’s complaints about their choice of entertainment. “You’ve burnt our dinner.”

“It’s just a little toasted. We can still eat it,” he shrugs.

“Racoons wouldn’t even eat that,” Lily says. “And I like my teeth in my mouth, thanks. What else do you have here?”

“I think that cucumber is still in my garbage,” he offers.

“It was a zucchini, Remus!” She yells. “Do you not have anything else?”

“I may have some saltine crackers, but I also think they may be several years old.”

“Order a pizza.”

“I’ll order a pizza,” Remus mumbles as he digs for his phone and pulls up the website for Vanity’s, ordering one large cheese and one large vegetarian pizza.

“Okay,” Lily claps her hands together. She turns the TV off and throws the remote somewhere on the couch before crossing her legs underneath her and using a hand to gesture at Mary, “Mary, be a dear and start us off, please.”

Mary clears her throat before bringing the opened bottle of wine to her mouth and downing a big sip. “Caradoc Dearborn, newly single, has been spotted talking to…Julie Conway!”

Remus gasps a terribly dramatic thing. Lily holds a hand to her heart, her eyes wide and unblinking.

Nobody speaks for a moment, Lily finally asking with a hoarse voice, “I thought he was gay?”

“Yeah,” Mary nods. “So did Benjy. Turns out he lied, had a girlfriend in high school and started bumping it with Julie a couple weeks ago.”

“I thought he hated Julie? Didn’t he put those signs up last fall reminding people to rake their leaves when Julie was the only one who hadn’t?” Remus asks.

“Mmhm, mmhm,” Mary nods. “And Julie made that whole big deal about asking around for a good lawyer for her divorce, knowing Caradoc was the only divorce attorney in town. He was furious!”

“How’d you find out?” Lily asks as she steals a blanket that's draping against the back of his couch.

“I had to squeeze Julie in for a last-minute appointment and…let’s just say her brightness was up,” Mary giggles.

“You told me you don’t read people's phones!” Remus yells with an accusing finger pointed in her direction.

“I lied,” she laughs. “Benjy is a dry texter.”

“Stop reading my messages!”

Mary giggles again, her head thrown back and cheeks pink. She takes a last swig from the wine bottle before handing it to Lily, who takes a long sip before lifting her chin and biting back a smile. “Christopher Charles, the guy who sells plants at the farmers market, writes Sirius Black fanfiction!” She barks out a laugh before letting out a breathless string of giggles.

“What?” Remus yells, instantly bolting up from his slumped position on the couch.

“Oh, God,” Mary laughs, twisting so her face is shoved against the couch. “Oh my God!” She screams, her legs kicking in a dramatic fashion.

“What?” Remus yells again, his brain slow.

“He writes fanfiction!” Lily giggles. “And it’s all about Sirius. He’s got, like, fifteen different stories written.”

“Ah!” Mary giggle-yells. “God, stop. Oh my God, I can’t breathe,” she pants. She slumps back against the couch, her face red and hair messy. “Tell me every single thing about this.”

“There’s really not much else to say,” Lily shrugs.

“Bullshit!” Remus yells.

“Okay, okay,” she says with a giddy smile. “His most popular one has two-hundred and eighteen hits and it’s a slow-burn, fifty-thousand-word self-insert. Friends to lovers.”

Mary squeezes her eyes shut and clenches her teeth, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. Remus watches her in amusement, her cheeks still a faint pink. Lily has her legs pulled up to her chest, the wine bottle balancing precariously on the top of her knee.

“What’s his least popular one?” Remus asks.

“Two-hundred-thousand words, ten hits, strangers to friends to lovers with a character named…Charles.”

“Oh, God,” Mary whispers, her hand covering her mouth.

“That’s…” Remus blinks.

“It’s fine,” Lily waves a dismissive hand. “James told Sirius and Sirius talked to Christopher - said it was flattering, but he’d appreciate it if he stopped. Recommended him a good therapist, too.”

“Finish it off - how’d you find out?” Mary laughs.

“You know Becky, that I do yoga with?” She asks.

“Big Boob Becky,” Remus and Mary both say.

“Yeah, her. Turns out Becky and Christopher were seeing each other - yeah, I know! But she was suspicious because he spent so much time on his phone so she checked it and…and the rest is history.”

“Wow,” Remus whispers. Lily tilts the wine bottle to her lips and takes a large sip before passing it to him. He repeats the action, the cheap alcohol burning as it goes down his throat. “Okay, Margaret-Lynn, the one who lives two houses down from me in that red brick two-story? Yeah, so she’s a freak. She was spotted at that big kink festival over in Hogsmeade.”

“What!?” Lily yells.

“Is she the one with the blonde daughter with the really nice ass?” Mary asks.

“That’s her,” Remus nods.

“I really need to introduce myself,” Mary muses.

Remus ignores her and continues with the story, “Apparently, she bought a sex swing.”

“Remus, I’m gonna need a lot more than that. What do you mean she was at a kink festival? She’s, like, eighty,” Lily says.

“Eighty years old can still have kinks. And Ms. Margaret-Lynn is one of those eighty years old with kinks - including, but not limited to sex swings and nipple clamps.”

“No!” Lily gasps. “How’d you find out?”

“I can’t believe eighty years old are gettin’ down with the kinks. Who’s she even kinking with? Her husband is long dead. And how does an eighty-year-old even get on a sex swing? Do their legs even bend that way? I struggled to get on one, and I’m much younger and more agile.”

Remus and Lily both turn to stare at her, twin expressions of discomfort and disbelief.

“Yes, okay, Mary is a slut. Big deal! Move on.”

“There are things we don’t need to know, Mary,” Lily says, her nose scrunched and eyes weary.

“Wasn’t much fun, anyway. My legs fell asleep after a while and I was more focused on that than the actual sex. Well, it was with Leana and we all remember how bad she was at eating pu - ”

“Jesus, Mary!”

“Prudes!” Mary giggles while she pushes her socked toes into Lily’s side. “It’s not my fault I’m fun and adventurous! You and James can keep your loving eye contact and missionary,” she says with a dramatic faux gag.

“Hey! We’re adventurous!”

“Yes, every Saturday when James lets you get on top.”

Lily rolls her eyes dismissively, but her face is flushed - the poor pale girl. She steals the bottle of wine out of Remus’ hand and takes an impressive sip before handing it back.

“Finish it off, Remus,” she says. “How’d you find out?”

“Alice went up to try and sell some pastries there and saw Margaret-Lynn walk out with the box. She stopped and chatted and bought some of Alice’s donuts, sex swing out in its full glory.”

“No shame, her,” Mary says with a nod of approval. “Of course Alice would cater a fucking fucking festival. Bet she walked out with her own sex swing.”

“She plays a pretty, docile, and demure lady,” Lily mumbles. “But I’ve been in her house and accidentally opened the wrong door.”

“Alice saw someone else at the kink festival…” Remus starts. “Joshua.”

“Ah-hah! I knew it!” Mary points an accusing finger at him. “He always had an air about him. I miss him. He was fun! And he could never say no to your big brown doe eyes,” she says while batting her eyelashes in a terrible impression of Remus.

“He was dull,” Lily says with a scrunch of her nose. “You can do way better, Remus.”

“Obviously not dull in bed,” Mary snorts. “What’d he buy?”

“Ah, if history is to be believed, I would think fluffy handcuffs. And flavored condoms.”

Mary frowns, “That’s not very kinky.”

“There’s not much else he could buy, if you know what I mean.”

“Bring him back!” Mary says gleefully. “We need more spice! And he was a cop so we learned so much from him!”

“I’m not sleeping with Josh again just so you can get more town gossip,” Remus says with a disapproving frown. “Dating a cop is third on a list of worst things I’ve ever done. And he wasn’t even that good.”

“But we learned so much drama with Josh as our own little spy! We never would have known about Gregory Goyle without him, or Dolores Umbridge stealing money from the schools, or Evan Rosier putting paint in people's sprinkler systems.”

“My yard was blue for a month,” Lily grumbles.

“I’m sure we would have found out another way,” Remus says.

“We never would have found out without him!” Mary yells. “Bring him back! I bet Benjy doesn’t have pretty, fluffy handcuffs or flavored condoms!”

“No, he definitely doesn’t,” Remus laughs.

Several more gossips, almost four more bottles of wine finished, and two large pizzas devoured, Lily starts singing to herself and Remus comes to the conclusion that they are far too drunk. Proving his point, Mary joins in on the harmonies, their pitch all wrong and lyrics entirely made up.

“She wears short shorts, I wear beaters,” Lily mumbles.

“Ahhhhh,” Mary sings.

“She’s beer captain and I’m on the teachers.”

“Oooohh.”

Remus doesn’t have it in himself to correct them, instead he distantly nods his head to the offbeat beat as they make ill attempts at transitioning between different 2000’s pop songs. Toxic, Single Ladies, Firework, You Belong with Me, and Poker Face all combining together to make an atrocious medley.

“Do you ever feel,” Lily sings, pitchy and hoarse. “Like an elastic bag?”

“Uuuhhhhh.”

“Drifting through the…air…” she trails off, her voice tired and eyes sleepy.

“What time is it?” Mary slurs, her eyes closed and her head resting back against the couch.

“S’like…ten?” Lily says. “Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa--poker face.”

“Try two,” Remus groans, his arm draped over his eyes to block out the light from the lamp. Mary says something unintelligible and Lily downs the last sip of wine. “I think my drunk is drunk.”

Mary laughs hysterically, loud and continuous, occasionally pausing to hiccup or cough. She stops suddenly, “What?”

“My legs are weak,” Lily yells, her face shoved into a pillow. A leg is lifted into the air and unceremoniously dropped back down. “Can’t work.”

Mary's boisterous laugh fills the room again, echoing throughout his quiet house. She wipes a tear off her cheek and slumps back on the couch with a sigh. “Remus, be a dear and carry me home?”

“Uh-uh,” he shakes his head.

“My house is so far,” she whines.

“S’like, a minute,” Lily mumbles into the pillow. “Put your hands up!”

“That’s so far,” Mary whispers to herself.

“The guest room s’like, a couple steps,” Remus says.

“So far,” she groans. “Carry me?”

“Eat shit.”

“Remus!” She whines.

“Am I floating?” Lily asks, her head lifted off the pillow as she thoroughly inspects her hand. “I’m on air.”

“No,” Remus says as he struggles to get up off the couch. He shoves Lily’s head back on the pillow, “You’re on an Ikea original.”

“Ikea,” Lily repeats slowly, emphasizing each letter of the word. “I-k-e-a. I’m on an Ikea?”

Remus ignores her, something he is really good at, and holds a hand out to help Mary off the couch. She grabs his hand with a giggle and several attempts later, she’s off the couch and stumbling on her feet. Lily is still blabbering to herself about Ikea, different musings about what exactly an Ikea is.

“Lils,” he yells, snapping her out of her rambling. “Ya sleepin’ here?”

She blinks heavily, her eyes set on him as if she’s trying to concentrate and understand what he’s saying. “Yes,” she says slowly.

“You want the couch or a bed?”

“Don’t make me sleep on a couch,” she whines. “I’m so pretty and I shouldn’t have to sleep on a couch.”

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch.” He rolls his eyes, Mary’s hand gripped tight around his arm as she wobbles with a failed attempt to fight off a giggle. “You wanna share with me or Mar?”

“Mar snores,” she frowns. “Honk shoo, honk shoo.”

“I do not!” Mary says affronted. “I’ve never even snored before ever.”

“Honk shoo, honk shoo,” Lily repeats, this time much louder. “Shoulda named you Mary Lumberjack.”

“Remus! Tell her I don’t snore,” she pouts.

“Honk shoo!” Lily yells with a laugh.

Mary frowns and attempts to flip Lily off, only an attempt because she drunkenly uses her ring finger instead of her middle. Remus pushes her arm down and shoves her toward his guest room, letting her flop down face-first on the bed before he starts yanking her shoes off.

“Those are expensive!” She yells when he drops the first shoe on the floor with a thud. “Em bought ‘em for me.”

“Shoulda thrown ‘em away,” he mumbles.

“She’s gettin’ married.”

“I know.”

“To Daniel,” she says, her voice mocking when she says his name. “What a dick.”

“Sure,” he groans as he yanks her second shoe off and drops it down by the first one. “Go to sleep.”

Mary blindly throws him a thumbs up as he shuts the lights off and closes the door. Lily isn’t quite as drunk as Mary, walking slightly better on her own. She bumps into the wall twice, which doesn’t prove his point very well, but eventually she makes it to his room and falls down on his bed. On his side, of course, but he’ll live.

Remus drops into bed next to her after turning the light off, Lily blindly reaching out to shove a rough hand through his hair. “Mary cut it?”

He hums, his eyes already closed and ready to fall asleep.

“Looks nice,” Lily whispers. “Sirius thinks so, too.”

Remus softly hums, already drifting off to sleep.

“Don’t you know that you’re toxic?”

***

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! Many Rockfish can live hundreds of years. Rougheye Rockfish are the longest known living fish on Earth and can live over 200 years! That means that a Rockfish on your dinner plate tonight could have been alive when Meriwether Lewis and William Clark set out on their famous expedition in 1804 to explore unknown territories in the United States. That’s old!

Remus: i don’t eat rockfish?

***

Harry’s left hand is small against Remus’ right hand, his grip tight as he and Lily slightly lift him off the ground to swing him forward. Harry giggles and jumps up each time they lift him, his little legs kicking in the air before he lands with a high-pitched squeal.

Remus’ head is pounding and he doesn’t think he’s ever been this hungover in his life. The sun burns and the air is an annoying and constant presence, but he’s got three Advils circling his veins and working in his favor.

Lily picks Harry up when they start to get closer to the festival while Remus digs through her backpack to find Harry’s monkey harness and child leash. Remus clips him into the leash and Lily sets him down, Harry taking off into a sprint almost immediately.

“What does it say about me as a parent if my cat is better leash-trained than my child?” Lily asks with a sigh.

“I think it means you are a very good cat parent,” Remus smiles. Lily rolls her eyes and tightens her grip on the child-leash as Harry continues to pull towards the crowd of people.

Godric’s Hollow puts on a giant town festival every summer to help raise funds for the local businesses, organizations, shops, and schools. It’s a massive affair that draws in tens of thousands of dollars and thousands of visitors.

It’s sponsored by Sirius Orion Black.

Sirius gathers all the vendors - goes around town recruiting them to participate in the festival and supplying them with tents and tables to set up so they can sell their crafts and knitwears and jams. All the proceeds go to the vendors. Glenda made so much last year from her jam tent that she paid for her and her family of twenty-three to go on vacation to Florida.

He dedicates a whole section of the festival to the kids. Completely free of charge, of course, with a simple wish that you may donate, if you feel so inspired. He spends, what Remus can only assume is a fortune, on bouncy-houses and bouncy-castles and ball pits. He pays for a face painter and a temporary tattoo artist and someone to make balloon animals. There’s painting, tie-dying, bracelet making, dancing, and hair braiding. There’s hula-hooping and jump roping and screaming, crying children that are having the time of their lives while their parents get drunk off of some shitty local beer from one of the shitty local breweries.

He hires local bands from surrounding towns to play music all day. He pays all the local restaurants to serve food to everyone, free of charge. He sets up demonstrations for gardening and knitting and painting and glass-blowing and baking and God knows what else.

Besides the very polite request for donations, there’s a raffle (personally funded by Sirius Black) that is the main source of money raising for the festival. Last year, they raised enough money to send all twenty-two eighth-graders and their guardians to Washington DC for free, and to send all fourteen high school seniors on a free graduation trip to New York City.

And that was only a quarter of the proceeds that the school received from the festival.

If Godric’s Hollow was known for one thing, it would almost certainly be this stupid festival. It’s the talk of the town for months and people come from all over to participate. It’s incredibly accessible, seeing as it’s entirely free, and has so many things to do that it draws crowds of all ages and personalities.

It’s one of the most impressive town festivals Remus has ever been to.

He hates it.

He made $100 by selling three parking spaces at his house, which he likes, but he hates this stupid fucking festival.

Okay, yeah, sure, the school and the community get money and they can improve and expand from all the big, giant stacks of money Sirius raises from the event. That’s great. The library was able to add a new wing and the animal shelter was able to hire a full-time veterinarian. That’s wonderful.

The kids get to go on educational trips and Glenda gets to take her family to Florida and Miss Martha sells her knitwear and everyone is so fucking happy.

It’s basically a big Sirius Orion Black celebration event!

And Remus hates it.

They may as well fly a banner in the sky that says ‘The Citizens and People of the Town of Godric’s Hollow Praise Our Lord and Savior Mr. Sirius Orion Black.’ He’s pretty sure one year they’ll allocate some money raised to erect a gold statue in his honor. They’ll put it at the entrance of the park and Remus will have to see it every day when he goes for his morning walk to get his coffee.

Remus plans to spit on it.

Okay - no he doesn’t.

And, he doesn’t really hate the festival. It is kind of really, very impressive.

He heard there were going to be clowns this year, so that’s kind of cool. And the community really needs the money raised and the festival helps them out a ton, so that’s kind of nice too. And Glenda makes the best blackberry jam he’s ever had so she deserves a trip to Florida.

Her little brat of a granddaughter is a different story, though.

And Sirius Black works tirelessly to single-handedly run the festival, surely outdoing himself this year. The festival is nearly twice as large as it was last year, with double the vendors and triple the bouncy-castles. The festival is always at the park, and they usually only close off Main Street, but this year they have the next four streets closed off.

James has talked his ear off about all the things Sirius has done differently this year - all the new vendors and new restaurants he has participating. There was talk of a Ferris wheel being put up, which he privately thinks is sort of cool.

He even heard a rumor that Beyoncé may show up, but he thinks Lily may just be fucking with him.

Harry nearly pulls Lily’s arm out of her socket trying to run through the crowds to the children section of the festival when he spots a giant SpiderMan bounce house.

“Harry slow down!” Lily yells, twisting her hand tighter around the end of the child-leash. “Harry James Potter!”

“Blaaaaabbba!” Harry yells with a stop of his foot, the leash pulled tight as Lily stops moving. Lily pulls the leash until she reaches him, picking Harry up as he screams and kicks. She carries him around, weaving in and out of the crowds of people to get to the bouncy-houses.

“People are going to think I’m kidnapping him,” Lily mutters as Harry throws his limbs around in an unorganized and chaotic fashion. A shoe hits Remus in the face as Lily gets a fist to her stomach. “Remus, if anyone ever tells you to have children, kill them.”

Remus laughs and privately thinks he agrees.

They get Harry to the bounce houses, only a few more bruises and skeptical glances from concerned bystanders, and let him bounce on the ones designated specifically for children aged 2-4 for almost thirty minutes until he comes out sweating and crying because he’s tired. Lily offers to get him an ice cream cone to cheer him up and Remus supports the endeavor wholeheartedly, offering to wait in line for the ice cream cones while Lily takes Harry to get his face painted.

“I thought the clowns were supposed to be stationed over by the balloon animals.”

And Remus should expect him to be here really, but to ambush him while he waits for his ice cream cone? Remus would think, as the event coordinator, he would have much more pressing matters to deal with than irritate the fuck out of Remus. And yet.

“Hello, Sirius.”

“Remus.”

Remus turns to face him, biting his cheek to stop his stupid smile from forming as soon as he sees him. Sirius is wearing a pair of classic blue jeans, something Remus is not sure he’s ever seen Sirius wear, and a pink Godric’s Hollow Summer Festival t-shirt with a giant sunflower graphic. It should look ridiculous - Sirius, who wears black and leather and rides a motorcycle, in blue jeans and a pink t-shirt, but somehow it doesn’t.

It makes him upset.

“Have I missed the grand ceremony? The one where they put a big crown on your big head and fan you with big palm leaves while circling your big gold throne and chanting Sirius?”

Sirius smiles and checks his watch, “No, that starts in twenty minutes.”

“I suppose James is somewhere polishing your crown?”

“He is, yes. And when he’s done, he’s going to find a palm tree to scale and he’ll hack the leaves off so he can fan me.”

Remus shakes his head, sends a single curl falling into his eye. He pushes his hair back with a rough hand, smiles softly down at Sirius, hates himself for it because this time it’s sincere. “I’m sure he is.”

Sirius clears his throat and glances around in search of something. He finally focuses back on Remus, a light peach color dusting his cheeks. “Are you on break?”

“Am…am I on break?” Remus asks with a furrowed brow.

“From your clown shift.”

Remus blinks and huffs out a laugh. “You were really proud of that one, weren’t you?”

“I was, yeah,” Sirius laughs. He’s got a pretty laugh. “You didn’t even acknowledge it and it was some of my best work, Remus.”

“If that was your best work, I’d hate to see your worst.”

“That would just be me stealing one of your jokes.”

“I don’t make jokes.”

“I know,” Sirius smiles, a wide and bright smile that makes his whole face glow. It’s genuine and Remus suddenly understands how he has half the town wrapped around his stupid little finger. One of those smiles and Remus would be willing to commit some sinful crimes. He’s awfully proud of himself for his stupid joke and Remus can’t help the pleased laugh he lets out.

His mind is a sea of unwelcome thoughts, most of them involving the intolerable man standing in front of him, so he thinks it best to end the conversation before he does something stupid like telling Sirius he’s an ass or grabbing Sirius by the collar of his stupid pink shirt and shoving his tongue down his stupid pink throat.

Yes, he definitely doesn’t want to do that.

He can hear Sirius fretting behind him, obviously expecting a response. “Did you come to the festival by yourself? Bit sad.”

“No, no, I’m here with my wife.”

Sirius’ face pales and his eyes bulge. He stares at Remus for a second before hacking out a loud cough. “Wife?” He chokes out.

“Yeah,” Remus nods. He lifts his hand up and points in the direction where Lily and Harry are getting their faces painted, Sirius instantly following his finger. “The pretty redhead over there.”

“Oh,” Sirius lets out a relieved breath and puts a hand to his heart. “Oh.”

“Sirius?” Remus raises an eyebrow.

“You meant Lily,” he sighs. His face gains color again and his shoulders slump in relief.

“Yes,” he laughs. “Because you’re married to James, and I’m married to Lily…”

“Yes, yes,” he nods repeatedly. “I get it. It’s a joke. It’s funny.”

“Are you - ”

“Good to see you, Remus!”

And he takes off, leaving Remus alone and slightly bewildered. He finishes his wait in line and gets three ice cream cones to bring back to Lily and Harry, who have finished getting their faces painted.

“Oh my gosh,” he gasps dramatically. “Harry! What have you got on your face?”

Harry giggles and makes grabby hands for his ice cream cone. Remus sits down next to him in the grass and hands it to him, Harry instantly slamming the ice cream cone into his face and laughing as he gets melted ice cream all over his hair and himself.

“Just like his father,” Lily grumbles. She sits down next to Remus in the grass and takes her ice cream cone, her face painted like a tiger.

“Cute,” Remus laughs.

“Mmhm,” Lily rolls her eyes. “Harry insisted.”

Remus bites his lip and glances over at Harry, who is clapping his ice cream filled hands together with a loud smack. “What exactly is Harry?”

Remus has been trying to figure out what the child got painted on his face, but he can’t quite place it. He’s got two black circles drawn around his eyes to make glasses and a yellow lightning bolt on his forehead.

“He’s his dad,” Lily sighs.

“Oh my god, he is,” Remus whispers. He gets it now - the face-painted glasses make Harry almost the spitting image of James. “And the lightning bolt?”

“I told him he couldn’t just get glasses painted on, so that was his compromise.”

“Strange child.”

Lily nods dramatically and licks her ice cream. Harry has fully abandoned eating his ice cream and is now playing with it, using the melted ice cream to draw pictures on his arm. Pictures may be generous as they’re more like squiggly lines, but he giggles like he’s having a blast anyway. Lily watches as he takes his ice-cream covered hands and runs them through his messy hair, the vanilla ice cream prominent against his jet-black hair. She sighs and licks her ice cream cone again.

“What did Sirius want with you?” She asks with a knowing smile.

Remus licks his ice cream cone, feigns indifference. “To call me a clown.”

“Oh, so nothing new.”

Remus laughs and rips out a handful of grass to throw at her. A piece lands in her ice cream and she glares at him as she picks it out and flicks it back at him. Once their ice cream cones are finished, they lay back on the grass, occasionally pointing out shapes formed in the fluffy white clouds. Lily finds a deer, Remus finds a wolf, and Harry finds a ‘wawo,’ whatever that is.

“I wanna get some raffle tickets,” Lily mumbles after a couple minutes of silence. “Sirius said he’s raffling off a set of cast iron pans and I want them.”

“Why? So you can burn your food easier?”

“Keep making jokes, Remus.” She gets up from the ground with a huff, “At least I have more than condiments and bread in my fridge.”

“Point made,” he mumbles.

She brushes the dirt off her pants. “Coming?”

“Ugh,” he moans, splaying his arms and legs out like a starfish. He pretends to try and get up with a loud groan, “No.”

“I’m leaving ice cream boy with you, then.”

“Harry, did you hear what she just called you?”

“Blah!”

“I know,” Remus shakes his head. “I would never say that about you, dude.”

“You turned my cat against me, you’re not taking my child too. Want me to get you some tickets?”

Remus lifts his hips up to dig into his back pocket, finding his wallet and grabbing a twenty-dollar bill. “Use the whole thing for tickets,” he says as stretches his arm out to hand Lily the bill.

“What do you want?”

“Anything. You know what I like,” he shrugs. “If he has some chocolate option, put all of the tickets in that one.”

“Okay,” she says. “Don’t let my child run away.”

Lily leaves and Remus turns to face Harry, whose face and hair have been wiped clean from his ice cream experience. “Whadya say, Harry? 50-meter dash?”

“Blaaab!”

“I think so too,” he nods seriously. “A little moisturizer would do her wonders.”

Harry crawls through the grass to get closer to Remus, laying down next to him with a sigh far too dramatic for a three-year-old. Remus puts an arm around him and pulls him close to his side. He feels a small puddle of drool forming on his arm after a few minutes.

Remus never thought he was very good with kids, but Harry is either the easiest child ever or Remus is an expert. The kid just loves to sleep, eat, and run away. Of course, Remus is never the one having to chase him down, but he gets great joy out of watching Lily and James try to corral their child as if it’s a dog that just escaped an open fence.

Remus is quite sure he’s the most perfect child alive, but he’s probably biased. And he’s equally as sure that having to spend more than a couple hours with said child would kill him, which is why he understands Lily taking her sweet time to come back from the raffle. He assumes she got lost after the initial ten minutes pass, but by thirty minutes he knows she’s taking a break from the kid.

Harry takes a nap while Remus watches the clouds move through the sky, enjoying the feeling of the warm summer sun against his skin. There’s a gentle breeze, just light enough to cool down the heat and make it a perfect temperature outside.

He wonders who Sirius had to pay to make sure the weather for this weekend was nice. Sirius probably found someone he wrote a check to so that he'd make sure it didn’t rain - God, Mother Nature, Miss Martha. Or maybe he’s just the luckiest bastard alive.

Lily makes it back to them almost an hour later, with a giant pretzel and a giant lemonade. She sits back down in the grass and starts to tear pieces off of her pretzel.

“Get lost?” Remus asks as he reaches over to snatch a piece of her pretzel.

“Nope,” she smirks.

“I’ll bill you.”

“No you won’t.”

He won’t. He didn’t even have to do much, Harry has been sleeping the whole time, completely exhausted from his exciting day of jumping and screaming.

“Where are my raffle tickets?” He asks as he steals another price of pretzel. Lily digs in her back pocket and hands him a stack of tickets. “What’d you put me in for?”

“Something good.”

“That’s ominous.”

“Remus, trust me. If you win, you’ll love it. But, forewarning, you probably won’t win. It was the most popular one. There were probably a thousand tickets in just that one.”

“Damn,” he whistles. “You’re not going to tell me what it is?”

“No, but the drawing is in,” she checks her phone for the time, “ten minutes, so you’ll find out soon.”

“Your child is sleeping,” Remus nods his head in Harry’s direction.

“He’ll live,” she shrugs. She hands him the rest of the pretzel and moves towards Harry, bending down to very, very carefully pick him up. Harry stirs, but thankfully doesn’t wake up, only squishes his cheek against her chest.

“Let’s go,” Lily says quietly. Remus gets up from his spot in the grass, his knees cracking in an embarrassingly loud fashion. He follows Lily to the tent where the raffle is set up, a large traditional circus-looking tent with red and white stripes.

Remus makes a joke about animals and rings of fire and Lily snorts and smacks him in the chest for causing her to almost wake Harry up. The inside of the tent is massive, filled to the brim with people all eagerly awaiting the raffle drawing. They search for someplace to sit, all the chairs and picnic tables having been snatched up already.

After a few laps, a nice couple gets up and offers them their chairs so Lily doesn’t have to stand and hold a sleeping Harry. The lady comments on how they make such a cute couple, marveling at how much Harry looks like Remus.

“Think she’s blind or stupid?” Remus asks in a whisper as he sits down.

“God, I hope both,” Lily laughs. “They’ll probably be picking yours last. Best for last, and all that.”

“You’re really hyping this up.”

“It’s worth it, trust me.”

“I don’t at all trust you.”

Lily smiles at him. She runs a gentle hand through Harry’s hair. “Check my tickets for me, honey?” Remus rolls his eyes when she hands him a giant stack of raffle tickets, at least two-hundred in the pile.

The raffle starts a few moments later, James taking the stage in a clown costume to pick the lucky winners. He's wearing a red nose and a rainbow polka-dot dress with pink tights. Remus sort of wishes James was the type of man to get embarrassed, but also greatly loves him for the fact that he’s not.

He picks the winners for the first few items, a basket of different jams and jellies, a handmade knit scarf, and a voucher for a free spa treatment.

James continues picking the winners, making a big show of congratulating each winner by running through the crowd and escorting them to the stage. He shoves the microphone in each winner's face to ask them a million questions about the prize they’ve just won - why they chose it, what they’re most excited about, who they’re going to share it with, if this is the best ever day of their whole entire life.

Remus isn’t surprised that James Potter has managed to make a raffle entertaining.

Miss Martha wins a month-long yoga trial at the yoga studio Lily goes to, accepts it with a gracious three-minute-long speech that Lily whines and complains all the way through. Caroline wins a free haircut with Mary, which causes Glenda to break out in a dramatic scoff. Caroline wins again, this time a gift card to Alice’s Bakery, and Glenda storms out of the tent in a huff. Mr. Fredrick wins a large tool bag, which has Remus concerned for the local squirrels. Julie Conway wins a free dental cleaning from Gilderoy Lockheart, which has Remus concerned for her teeth.

“Okay, and for the free weekend stay at the Pettigrew Inn…” James takes a dramatic pause as he reaches his hand into the giant bowl and picks out a small slip of paper. “Ticket number 58293!”

“Whoo!” Someone in the crowd yells. A giant smile blooms on James’ face as he weaves his way through the crowd to get to the cheering person, his large red shoes honking each time he takes a step.

“Ugh, James and I wanted to stay there one weekend. Wish I won,” she sighs.

Remus leans over to whisper to Lily, careful to not speak loudly so he doesn’t wake Harry, “Is it not a conflict-of-interest if your husband picks you as a winner?”

“No. Besides, aren’t you my husband?”

He breathes out a laugh and tilts his head from side to side. “It’s okay. Average Connecticut B&B.”

Lily smirks, “And how would you know that?”

“No comment.”

“Pettigrew and Benjy are good friends, aren’t they?” She smiles knowingly.

“No comment,” he sings.

“Slag.”

James quickly runs through what seems like fifty more prizes before declaring it’s officially ‘the time everyone has been waiting for.’ Remus isn’t sure what that means, but the way everyone sits up straighter in their seats has him thinking it ought to be good.

“This is the one I put you in,” Lily murmurs.

“I think it’s best we have the man of the hour come on out for this one,” James says, gesturing to where Sirius has now appeared on the stage. The crowd starts cheering and clapping and Remus’ left eye instinctively twitches.

“Thank you, thank you,” Sirius says, a humble hand to his heart as people continue to clap for him. He’s such a dick. “Thank you all for being here today. We’re so happy to have you all here - those from our wonderful town of Godric’s Hollow and those from all over the state. And Grace,” he points to a woman in the crowd, “who came all the way from Tennessee for our festival. We’re honored and so thankful for what we have been able to raise for our local community.”

Remus leans over to Lily, “He’s so fucking pretentious.” Lily coughs to disguise her laugh and uses her hand to cover her face as her shoulders shake from laughing.

“James, my love, if you could do the honor of picking our winner,” Sirius says as he gestures to a giant fish bowl filled with purple raffle tickets. Remus’ eyes bulge at the size of the bowl, filled completely to the brim with tickets.

James nods frantically, his comically large striped hat almost falling off his head. “Our grand prize of the evening…a private dinner with the Sirius Black.”

Remus chokes on his breath. He coughs into his fist and Lily starts laughing harder.

“With a total of 6,561 entries, unfortunately only one can win,” James reaches into the bowl and pulls out a ticket. “Our lucky winner, who will get to go on a private dinner to a restaurant of their choice with Mr. Sirius Black…drum roll please.”

The entire crowd of people, all eagerly waiting for James to read out the winner, start clapping their hands against their thighs and stomping their feet. Lily covers Harry’s ears with her hands, but Remus can see her feet stomping on the ground.

His feet stay firm on the ground and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Our winner is,” James dramatically twirls his arm before reaching into the giant fishbowl and pulling out a single purple ticket. “31160!”

Remus watches as the people around him all start frantically flipping through their tickets, discarding losing ones on the ground and groaning when they’ve run out of tickets to check. The tent has somehow filled with even more people, every single inch filled with a person clutching a handful of purple tickets.

He turns in his seat and watches as Miss Martha tosses ticket after ticket on the floor, her face growing more concerned as she gets further into her giant stack. Caroline’s luck seems to have run out, an angry scowl on her face as she throws her losing tickets on the ground next to the giant fruit basket she just won.

Grace, the woman from Tennessee, gets escorted out of the tent after she breaks out into a ferocious cry because she finished going through all of her losing tickets. A man Remus doesn’t recognize tries to storm the stage and comes close to nearly knocking over the fish bowl before he gets escorted out too.

Remus watches in great amusement, stops himself from laughing as more and more people start crying and sighing at their loss.

“Aren’t you going to look?” Lily asks as she gestures to his comparatively small selection of tickets.

“Nope.”

“You may be the lucky winner,” she sings.

“Lucky loser, more like,” he huffs.

“That was bad.”

“I know.”

“You really should look. You have, like, twenty tickets.”

“I can’t believe you wasted my money on this.”

“It’s not a waste! And I put some of my own in there, so you should be thanking me.”

“You said it was something good!”

“You love dinner!”

Remus rolls his eyes. He does love dinner. But he doesn’t love Sirius. He’d especially not love a dinner with Sirius. A dinner with James, Lily, and Sirius is already almost intolerable. A dinner with just Sirius? A nightmare.

“We have no winners so far!” James announces. “Once again, that winning number is going to be 31160. 31160!”

“Remus,” Lily says. “You could be the winner.”

“No.”

“You should check your tickets.”

“I won’t be doing that.”

“Sir,” the lady behind him taps his shoulder with a harsh finger. “If you don’t want them, can I have them? I bought two-hundred tickets and none of them won.”

Remus is about to agree and hand his tickets over when Lily butts in, “No, he won’t be doing that.”

“Lily - ”

“Remus, look at your fucking tickets.” And that’s her stern-Lily voice. Remus knows better than to defy her when she pulls out the stern-Lily voice.

He huffs and starts flipping through his tickets. Nope, nope, nope, nope. James makes another announcement that the winning ticket hasn’t been found. Nope, nope, nope.

He gets to his last ticket. He has twenty tickets, nineteen with losing numbers. He gets to his last one.

31160.

He reads it again.

31160.

He clenches a fist around the ticket, smushing the small purple piece of paper, but Lily is watching over his shoulder. He meets her eye, a wicked smile on her face.

“We have a winner over here!” She yells, her eyes still locked on his.

Remus squeezes his eyes shut, throws his head back, and groans. What are the odds?

“Winner! Winner!” Lily chants.

James comes running in his direction, his clown shoes honking in the now quiet tent. “We have a winner over here! Looks like this handsome gentleman will be winning a private dinner with Sirius Black!”

Remus is going to kill Lily Evans.

James reaches him and snatches his arm to drag him up to his feet. “And what is your name?” He sticks the microphone in Remus’ face.

Remus glances around the tent, hundreds of faces now staring at him, some crying and some angry. He clears his throat and wobbles on his feet, feeling increasingly unsteady and borderline fearsome for his life.

“Remus.”

“Remus! What a name. Come, come,” James grabs his forearm and drags him to the stage. “Lucky, lucky, Remus! Everyone, give Remus a round of applause!”

The crowd obliges, a few of them cheering and whistling and a few of them wailing even louder. James drags him onto the stage and stands him next to Sirius, who looks like he’s fighting the urge to scream and protest. For once, Remus agrees with him.

“Remus, Sirius. Sirius, Remus,” James introduces them quickly. Remus blinks and waves his hand, feeling like a right idiot the moment he does it. “Tell me, Remus, are you excited to be our lucky winner?”

The microphone is back in his face. “Um.”

“Look at that, people! He’s at a loss for words!” James shakes his head in amazement. “Sirius, are you excited for Remus to be your lucky winner?”

The microphone is in Sirius’ face. “Well, actually - ”

“He’s so excited!” James interrupts. “I bet you’re just absolutely pickled, Sirius! Remus, what inspired you to enter yourself in this raffle? We had hundreds of things up for our raffle tonight, including the prize just raffled that our own Godric's Hollow resident, our dear Caroline, just won - a free night on a private yacht with a private chef and chocolatier - why choose our Sirius over that option?”

Remus is going to kill Lily.

“Is that yacht trip for one person or - ”

“He’s a big inspiration for you? How sweet!” James coos. “Sirius, how does that make you feel? Pretty good, huh? I mean, infamous Sirius Black that takes excellent care of his people and his community - of course, you’re an inspiration to many!”

“Well,” Sirius smirks. “James, that is very kind of you to say. Remus here better feel that - ”

“You’re honored? Well, isn’t that the sweetest thing you guys have ever heard?” James turns to face the crowd, all oohing and awwing. “So sweet. The two of them make quite the striking pair, don’t they? Yes, yes? Remus, love, tell me what it is about winning this raffle that you are the most excited about?

“I could probably make a lot of money if I sell - ”

“Private time with Sirius?! Kinky! Sirius, same question to you.”

“I’m most excited for it to be ove - ”

“You’re excited to be overly interested in Remus? We’re excited about that, too! Let me tell you, the crowd and I both see it, the sexual tension between these two, huh?”

Remus is going to kill James.

“There is absolutely no sex - ”

“Unfortunately, Remus, this is a solo dinner with Sirius Black, so you cannot share it with anyone. But if you could, who do you think you’d like to bring along to your one-on-one dinner?”

“A gu - ”

“Condoms? Lube? Test results? Those are all excellent answers! Sirius, question goes to you now.”

“Someone who looks just like me so that I can - ”

“Double the love! Just wonderful, folks. So, tell me, where will you be enjoying your private dinner? Vanity’s, perhaps? Maybe Frankies?”

“James, I really don’t - ”

“So many options! Did you hear that folks? He doesn’t even know! Probably never thought you’d win this prestigious reward, huh? You have plenty of time to decide. Sirius, any favorite restaurants you’d like to take our pretty Remus to?”

“I really don’t want - ”

“He doesn’t know either!” James smiles. “Remus, we had over six thousand entries, people hoping and praying and sacrificing things so that they could be the lucky ones to win a dinner with Sirius Black. How does that make you feel?”

Remus scoffs. “Real fucki - ”

“Family friendly!”

“Really, not at all, very goo - ”

“He feels great! Sirius, how does it make you feel that the people of the town appreciate you so much?”

“Well,” Sirius smiles bashfully. Remus scoffs again, loud enough that James’ microphone picks it up. “Let’s just say that it's much appreciated.”

“Very well said, Sirius,” James puts a hand to his heart. “Should we take questions from the crowd?”

“James,” Remus grits out.

“That’s all our questions for now, folks,” James smiles sadly. “Now, to our two winners here on stage,” he turns and faces Remus and Sirius, a firm look on his face, “Winnings for the raffle are non-negotiable and non-transferable.”

James then ushers them off the stage, tugging Remus forward by the sleeve of his shirt, until they’ve exited the tent. He stands with his hands on his hips, a giant grin on his face as he glances between the two of them.

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” He smiles.

“No!” Remus and Sirius both shout.

Sirius turns to Remus and scowls. “Why are you saying no? I know why I’m saying no, but why are you saying no?”

“Why am I saying no? I’d rather have my eyes plucked out than go to dinner with you,” Remus huffs and rolls his eyes in a very dignified fashion.

“Well, someone get me a melon baller!”

“You don’t take eyes out with a melon baller, you - ”

“Children, children, stop the nonsense,” James says firmly, holding his hands out in front of both of them. “The rules of the raffle are set in stone. You two have to go to dinner together.”

“That’s not how - ”

“I will absolutely not - ”

“Ah!” James claps his hands. “Dinner! Together!”

Sirius grumbles something under his breath and kicks his foot into the grass. It’s very sad and pathetic. Remus rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, in a much more refined and mature manner.

“Sirius, any favorite local restaurants you want to take Remus to?”

“I can do Taco Bell.”

“Oh,” Remus laughs sadistically. “Sirius, I am not into you like that. Fabian may into public - ”

“Who told you!?” He yells.

“So, Taco Bell is off the table,” James mumbles. “Remus, you’re the winner, what’s your pick?”

“Dumbledore’s.”

Dumbledore’s is the most expensive restaurant near town. It’s a steakhouse almost an hour outside of Godric’s Hollow, and Remus has never been. He’s always wanted to go, but he can't justify paying the cost of almost $500 for a steak. He can justify someone else paying it for him, though. Especially if that someone is Sirius Black.

“Absolutely not,” Sirius yells. “No. No, no. Not happening.”

Remus turns to face him and smiles sweetly. “I insist.”

“I’m telling you, Remus, it’s not happening.”

“Then I’m not going.”

“Good! I don’t want you to go!”

James flicks them both in the forehead. “I said no arguing,” he groans. “Sirius, if Remus insists on Dumbledore’s, then Dumbledore’s it is. He’s the raffle winner, and the prize was a dinner at the winner's restaurant of choice.”

Remus smiles.

“This is incredibly unfair,” Sirius grumbles. “How about Chili’s? Applebees? If you want steak, we can do Outback.”

Remus shakes his head. “Dumbledore’s.”

“That’s…it’s, God you’re unbelievable,” he scoffs. “It’s not even that good.”

“It’s a good thing I’ll be able to form my own opinion.”

“You wouldn’t know an opinion if it slapped you in the ass.”

“If you want me to slap you in the ass, you can just ask.”

“I wouldn’t even ask you for an organ if I was dying!”

“Good, because I wouldn’t give you one!”

“That’s fine, there’s six thousand people who would enter a raffle just to donate their organs to me!”

“You know, if your head gets any bigger it won’t fit in that helmet of yours!”

“It’s a good thing the strap is adjustable!”

“Jesus!” James yells. “Do you two do this all the time? What am I even watching? Should I get you both some of Harry’s crayons so you can doodle away your frustrations?” James snaps. He gasps and holds a hand up to his heart, “Your anger is rubbing off on me!”

“Sorry,” Sirius mumbles, looking sheepishly at the ground before sending Remus a glare. “Look what you did, Remus!”

“What? How could this possibly be my fault?”

“James doesn’t get angry on his own. You’re here, and suddenly James is upset.”

“James got upset yesterday because he accidentally stepped on a ladybug!”

“I didn’t mean to,” James mumbles as he scratches at his head.

“Why would you bring that up? It clearly upsets him, and here you are bringing up his trauma!”

“His trauma? The ladybug lived! It was fine - and he cried for thirty minutes!”

“Stop reminding him!”

“Stop blaming me for your bad behavior!”

“My bad behavior? What, are you going to change my behavior card to red?”

“I wouldn’t need to change it, it’s always red!”

“Behavior charts are actually really bad for children and their progression,” James cuts in.

“See what you’ve done, Remus? You’re ruining my progression.”

“You don’t need me to ruin your progression, you’ve done it all on your own.”

“Then, Remus, what’s your excuse?”

“My progression is fine, thank you.”

“Clearly it’s not, since you’re engaging in such childish behavior right now.”

“You’re both engaging in childish behavior,” James whispers to himself.

“You’re engaging in childish behavior, too.”

“James just said that. You can’t copy James.”

“I’m copying James because I pointed out the obvious?”

“Are you calling James stupid?”

“No, I’m calling you stupid.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“You’re both stupid,” James mutters.

“This is all stupid. James,” Remus turns to face him, “Sell my winning ticket, or I will. I will not be going to dinner with him.”

“Oh, I’m ‘him’ now? I have a name, Remus.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s plastered all over this fucking town.”

“Sorry I care about my community.”

“James, sell the ticket, or I will!” Remus yells before turning on his heel to leave.

Remus will get the most joy out of killing Sirius Black.

Chapter Text

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): tueday

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): dumb ledore’s

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): b ready

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): i wont waiot

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): oh 7p m

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): can u drive ?

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): i dknt want to hav to dr ive u

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): do i have to drive u

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): sont make me

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): i only have mktkxycle

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): motorcycle

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): do u do motorcycle

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): yes or no

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): and dont chanhe the fay

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): i can onlt do thesdah

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): tuesday

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): 7pm

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): i drive

Remus stares at the string of text messages and rubs at his eyes. It’s six o'clock in the morning.

Remus: ok.

He sets his phone down with a thunk and heads to his bathroom to take a shower - hopefully one that’ll wake him up and prepare him for the day. He would usually never be up this early, but Sirius’ unreasonable and, frankly, disrespectful number of text messages woke him. He’s quite upset about it.

He has ten more messages when he gets out of the shower. How does one person have so many things to say?

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): ok whay

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): what does ok mean

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): ok i difvd

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): or ok to tuesday

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): annswe me

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): im taking i ok to bowth

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): tuesdsy 7pm

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): pik u up at 6

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): i driv e

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): mi motorcycle

BAD (s*rius)(DONT ANSWER): o k

Remus sends a thumbs up and leaves his silenced phone in his room as he shuffles his way to his kitchen. He finds Allan sleeping on his kitchen table and has the vague wonderment of how the fuck he got into his house - either Lily let him in or Allan has gained the superpower of opposable thumbs. Remus hasn’t left his house in two days and he never once heard the front door open.

He’d be the perfect murder victim.

He gives Allan a pat on the head and a good scratch behind his ears, the cat meowing and stretching on his back so Remus can pet his belly. Allan gives a friendly hiss, the one Remus recognizes as his sign he demands a treat or he’ll claw you. His socks shuffle against the tile floors of his kitchen as he walks to the kitchen cupboards to dig around and find the stash of treats he keeps hidden.

They’re hidden not because of Allan, but because of Harry. Remus had babysat him for a couple of hours and the little toad had eaten half a bag of salmon treats in the two minutes it had taken Remus to go to the bathroom. So now they live on the top shelf of his cupboard, one that Harry should, hopefully, not be able to reach for several more years. If James’ impressive 6’1 is anything to go by, those years will be coming up far faster than he’d like.

Sirius hasn’t given him much time to mentally prepare for having to experience a whole meal with him, seeing as it’s only Monday morning. He had half a mind to complain and demand he change the date, but he’d sort of rather get this whole affair over with. And James and Lily said they wouldn’t feed him until he ‘cashes in his prize’ and Remus relies on them for roughly 93% of his nourishment.

So, he’ll suck it up and have dinner with Sirius tomorrow night. That’ll be fine.

They’ll go to Dumbledore’s, Remus will order a drink or four and the most expensive appetizer. He’ll skip dessert, partly because he doesn’t want to add an extra twenty minutes to the affair, but mostly because he looked at their menu and the German chocolate cake came with a raspberry filling and Remus thinks that’s just disrespectful to chocolate cake.

He blames Lily for this entirely - although, he would also just like to say that it’s certifiably ridiculous that a private dinner with Sirius would be offered up as a prize in a raffle in the first place. And a good prize, at that.

Truthfully he should be contacting a lawyer and sending Lily an invoice to repay him his twenty dollars. He was promised something good! Something good and chocolatey and that he wanted! Dinner with Sirius is none of those things!

In fact, it’s the opposite. It’s bad, vanilla, and something that he would never, under any circumstance, ever want.

Dumbledore’s will probably be nice. And Sirius really isn’t the worst company, sometimes he’s sort of tolerable. But that’s a heavy emphasis on sometimes and tolerable! Usually that’s only if he’s with James, which is probably something that the residents of Godric’s Hollow would wholeheartedly disagree with, but James makes Sirius far more tolerable to Remus.

A knock at the door startles him and causes him to drop the bag of salmon treats to the floor. Allan is between his feet in a second, greedily stealing all of the fallen treats. Remus would shoo him away and pick them up from the floor, but he quite likes having two hands.

He opens his front door and reels back in surprise, “Hi, Caroline,” he says with a furrow of his brow. “Uh, how are you?”

“Oh, just fine, Remus, dear. I actually have something to ask you,” she grins sheepishly.

“Sirius shaped the bushes,” he sighs, already knowing what she’s going to complain about. Caroline has already dropped by once to ask him to fix his bushes, and Miss Martha has stopped by at least five times since Sirius shaped them, even once with Glenda. “I know, I know, I tried to fix it, truly, I did the best I could, but if you have a problem with them please take it up with him.”

“Oh, no, dear. I mean, they look atrocious. Truly awful, honey, but that’s not what I want to ask you. It’s about the festival we had over the weekend.”

“Oh, okay. Oh, did one of those idiots park on your grass? I told them to stay on the driveway! It was the guy in the Subaru, wasn’t it? He wasn’t very smart, let me tell you. Tried to give me five bucks for the parking spot!”

“Remus, Remus,” she laughs. “Love, nothing's wrong with the grass. I’m talking about the raffle.”

“The raffle? Oh, yeah. Congrats on that, by the way. The fruit basket was beautiful, and, hey, that yacht trip oughta be a blast.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah! Private chef and chocolatier? I’m jealous!” He laughs, but Lord knows he truly is jealous.

“Do you want it?” She asks with a sincere smile.

Remus blinks in surprise and bites his lip to hold back a shocked laugh. “What?”

“Do you want the private yacht prize, dear?”

“Do I…do I want the private yacht prize?”

“Yes, honey. That’s what I said.”

“You’re…you’re offering it to me?” He asks, feeling far more confused than he probably looks.

“Well,” she laughs gently. “Not necessarily. See, honey, you have something that I’d quite like, so much so that I’d like to make a trade for it.”

“What on Earth could I possibly have that you’d trade a trip on a private yacht for?” Remus racks his brain to think of something, but his most expensive possessions are nowhere near worthy of being traded for a private yacht excursion. He’s got a pretty decent TV, but he bought it refurbished because it was three hundred dollars cheaper so the Guide button doesn’t even work. His computer is quite nice, but that’s from his job so he’d probably be fired or sued for getting rid of that.

“I’d quite like that dinner with Sirius that you won on Saturday, dear.”

“The dinner…the dinner I…with Sirius…that I won?”

“Yes, dear.”

“You want to trade your private yacht excursion for a meal with Sirius? Sirius Black?”

“That’s right, honey.”

“Oh, fuck ye - ”

“Caroline!” Lily comes running from across the street, breathless and panting. “Hi, hi,” she gasps. “Caroline.”

“Oh, hi Lily, honey. Where’s the fire?” She laughs.

Lily wipes a bead of sweat off her forehead and takes a big breath of air. “Just…just wanted to see what you guys were talkin’ about.”

“Well, Remus here is just about to trade his raffle prize with me,” Caroline smiles big and bright.

Remus nods enthusiastically and sends Lily a happy thumbs up. Lily scowls and lets out an exhausted huff. “No, he won’t be doing that, Caroline.”

“I’m sorry?” Caroline gasps in shock, her perfectly manicured hand held up against her heart.

“Sorry, Caroline,” Lily laughs. She raises her voice to a slightly higher pitch, the one Remus knows is her neighbor-voice. “Can I please speak with you privately?”

Lily gently grabs Caroline’s wrist and pulls her off a few feet away. She holds one of her hands up to her ear and whispers something, too quiet and too far away for Remus to hear, despite his best efforts. Her other hand is clenched tightly in Caroline’s hand, large gold rings and tan skin clashing against Lily’s pale and bare hand. Caroline nods the entire time before she finally lets out a loud bark of a laugh and squeezes Lily’s hand tightly.

“Absolutely, dear. I totally understand,” she says with a soft laugh.

“Thanks again, Caroline,” Lily says quietly, but loud enough that Remus can now hear. “I appreciate it loads.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, honey! Thank you for letting me know! Remus, dear, you have a good time, okay?”

Remus blinks in confusion and privately wonders if he’s getting his yacht excursion or not.

“Caroline, are we - ”

“It’s handled, Remus,” Lily cuts him off with a smirk.

“But, I - ”

Caroline gives him a firm pat on his cheek, scrunches her nose as she does it.

“And Remus, love, give those poor bushes some fertilizer,” she yells out before leaving, deliberately walking on the sidewalk back to her house instead of just cutting through the grass.

Remus watches her leave, feeling like he must be missing something other than the private yacht trip that he just lost. Lily shuffles closer to him and Remus remembers she’s still there, “You just lost me a private yacht experience. Again!”

“You’re welcome,” Lily smiles sincerely. “I’m doing you a favor, Remus.”

“By not letting me experience the luxury of a yacht? Please, Lord, let you learn the definition of a favor!”

“One day you’ll look back on this and you will, in fact, thank me.”

“The only time I’ll ever thank you for this is if Caroline and her stupid yacht end up three-thousand feet deep in the Atlantic.”

“What are we wearing tonight?” She asks, completely ignoring him and his complaining.

“None of your business.”

“Oh God, you’re totally planning on wearing jeans, aren’t you?” Remus’ silence answers her question, Lily groaning and firmly shaking her head. “Slacks, Remus. Slacks.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, looking down at his shoes, a hole in the toe that’s mocking him.

“Good. Use curl cream in your hair, please. And Remus, wear that green sweater. You know the one,” she says with a smile before turning on her heel and rushing back to her house.

Remus does know the one.

But why on Earth would he waste his third-date sweater on a not-at-all-and-don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-date dinner with Sirius? That doesn’t make any sense at all. He doesn’t care what he wears, he’s not trying to impress Sirius.

***

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! The largest fish in the world is the Whale Shark. The largest recorded Whale Shark was 12.6 m (41.5 ft) long, had a girth of 7 m (23 ft), and weighed more than 21,500 kg (47,300 lbs). That’s huge!

Remus: girth.

***

Remus pulls his green sweater off the hanger and groans.

He runs the soft fabric through his fingers, trying to think of something else to wear. Something that doesn’t have a 98% success rate at getting him laid.

His mind was unfocused the entire workday, his thoughts distracting and confusing and his brain doing a truly terrible job at pushing them down and shoving them away. He almost cried tears of joy when it hit 4 o’clock and he logged out of his computer, but then he remembered what he has to do tonight and he almost cried tears of sorrow, misery, and pain.

He’s slow getting ready, spending fifteen minutes putting in his curl cream which usually only takes a minute. He tells himself it’s because he’s terribly dreading the experience so much that he doesn’t even want to get ready for it, but he’s a liar.

His slacks are black and well-tailored, Lily having commented on the way they frame his ass on more than one occasion. But that’s not why he picked them. No, he picks them because they match his sweater the best.

His green sweater.

The one that he ends up taking on and off five different times, trying to convince himself that it’s not at all a big deal that he’s wearing his third-date sweater to a platonic dinner with Sirius. He has no nefarious intentions, and the sweater itself is certainly not sexual, so why would it be a big deal at all?

It hits 6 o’clock far sooner than he expects, the honk of a horn dragging him out of his thoughts and forcing him to just tug his green sweater on and push his thoughts on the situation deep, deep down.

“You’re late,” Sirius calls out as Remus steps onto his front porch and locks his front door.

“It’s 6:01, that hardly counts,” he mutters as he makes his way over to Sirius. He’s sitting on his motorcycle, his helmet off and resting in his hand. “I’m not riding that thing, Sirius.”

“She has a name,” Sirius smirks.

“Death-Trap Jones?”

“No,” Sirius mocks. “Sally.”

“Sally?”

“Sally.”

“That’s the stupidest fucking name I’ve ever heard. And your name is Sirius.”

“Remus, you don’t want to play the name game with me. Get on the bike.”

“I’m not getting on the bike.”

“Get on the bike.”

“I don’t have a death wish.”

Not that he thinks driving motorcycles is a death wish, he even had one years ago when he lived in New York, he just thinks Sirius driving a motorcycle is a death wish.

“Shockingly, neither do I. Get on the bike.”

Remus eyes the motorcycle wearily. It looks pretty sturdy. Solid wheels, strong handlebars. Sirius blinks at him expectantly. Sirius has been driving it for as long as Remus has known him, and he’s never crashed. Remus taps on the metal - sounds pretty solid.

“Oh, would you just get on?” Sirius snaps.

Remus crosses his arms over his chest, “I need a helmet.”

Sirius hands him the helmet in his hand and grabs another one dangling off the handlebar. Remus watches as he puts on the helmet and turns on the motorcycle, loudly revving the engine.

He looks back at Remus, his helmet covering the mocking smile that Remus knows is there. His hair is long enough that the ends are just barely visible underneath the helmet. “Come on, Remus.”

Remus puts on the helmet and gets on the motorcycle.

He can feel Sirius shift so he’s sitting further up on the bike and has to will his mind to not think inappropriate thoughts. Sirius taps him on the thigh and starts to back out of the driveway.

“Remus.” The bike stops moving. “You have to hold on.”

“Surprisingly, Sirius, there are no handlebars back here.”

“To me, dumbass.”

And, oh, Remus does not like that. Sirius reaches behind him to grab Remus' hand and puts them high on his waist. Remus makes sure his grip is loose, barely touching the soft leather of Sirius’ jacket.

He has his own car, for fucks sake. He should have just offered to meet him there.

The motorcycle starts moving again and his grip is no longer loose, but so tight and firm against Sirius’ waist that he won’t be surprised if his fingers leave bruises.

A terrifying forty-five minutes later and Sirius pulls into the parking lot and parks the motorcycle. He takes his helmet off and shakes his head to fix his hair. Remus can’t seem to move, his eyes watching as Sirius bends over to flip his hair up and down.

“Are you ready?” Sirius asks a moment later.

“Mmm?”

“We’re here?” He gestures to the restaurant and smiles, confused and soft.

“Oh! Right. Yeah,” Remus takes off the helmet and gets off the motorcycle, struggling and stumbling over his own feet.

Sirius catches him by the elbow and scoffs. “Walk much?”

“My legs feel weird.”

Sirius ignores him and walks ahead into the restaurant, not bothering to hold the door open. Remus trails behind him, running a brief hand through his hair to try and fix it. The hostess is already taking Sirius to the table by the time Remus enters the building, having to walk quickly to catch up with them. Sirius sits down on the booth side of the table, Remus internally rolls his eyes. He wants to sit there.

He takes the chair.

The hostess sets their menus down and leaves. They stare awkwardly at each other for thirty seconds before both opening their menus and beginning to read it so intently you’d think it has the secret to eternal happiness hidden somewhere between the filet mignon and the T-bone.

A minute passes in complete silence.

Remus is busy reading the blurb on the restaurant's history when their waiter shows up to take their drink orders, Sirius ordering a glass of whiskey and Remus a gin and tonic, no lime.

Another minute passes and Remus is reading the allergen and raw food warning when the waiter comes back with their drinks. He offers to wait another few minutes to give them more time with the menu before they order.

Remus thinks he could recite the whole thing from beginning to end by now.

In a move of bravery, he closes the menu and looks around the restaurant. It’s fairly crowded for a Tuesday night. It seems very stereotypical for a steakhouse, all dark woods and dim lighting, but at least no deer heads are hanging on the wall.

Five minutes pass and their waiter still hasn’t returned to take their order yet. Remus has just won another game of I-Spy…against himself. He’s spotted a picture of a man with a strangely long beard, a rusted watering can, and a framed dollar bill.

He checks his watch for the time. 7:17.

“Nice place,” he murmurs, the first thing either of them has said in almost ten minutes.

“Mmhmm,” Sirius hums. He still has his menu open and is reading intently.

“Some good ambiance.”

“Yeah,” he mutters.

“Kind of busy, too.”

“Hmmm.”

“The drink is good.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Sirius?”

“Sure.”

“I’m getting my hair cut on Thursday, and I was thinking about dying it pink. Mary agrees, and you know she’s always right. Any thoughts?”

“Yeah, mhmm.”

“Sirius,” he says, a little louder and harsher than before. Sirius’ eyes snap up and away from the menu. “You’re not listening to a word I’m saying.”

“I so totally am.”

“What did I just say?”

Sirius opens and closes his mouth a few times before eventually stopping. Remus bites his lip to keep himself from laughing. “Something about dogs?” He guesses.

“Not even close.”

“Fine,” Sirius huffs. “Fine, I wasn’t listening.”

“Are you guys ready to order?” The waiter shows up and asks.

“Yes, I would - ”

“No, we’re not ready,” Remus cuts in. “Another couple of minutes, please.”

The waiter nods and leaves, Sirius stares at him in bewilderment. “How are you not ready? I was ready. You’ve been reading the menu for, like, ten minutes.”

“I’m ready.”

Sirius gestures frantically at the empty space where the waiter was just standing, “Why send him away?”

“We need to talk.”

“Uh, no. We do not.”

“Yes, Sirius. We do.”

“No, I don’t think we do. Remus.”

“This dinner is already going to be the longest night of my life, you pretending to read a menu for half of it isn’t going to help.”

“I wasn’t pretending.”

“It’s a steakhouse. There’s only, like, ten menu options. Either you’re the slowest reader in the world, or you were pretending.”

“I was absorbing the information.”

“For fifteen minutes?”

“It was a lot to take in.”

“Why do you hate me?”

Sirius’ eyes widen and he moves quickly to open his menu, fumbling around in his haste and making a loud clunk when he hits his glass with the menu. He keeps his head down as he focuses on the page.

“Sirius?” Remus reaches over and pries the menu out of his grip. “Answer the question.”

Sirius’ eyes dart around the room before landing back on Remus, wide and frantic. “I think I’m going to get the steak. The one that comes with potatoes. And asparagus. That’s what I'm in the mood for. The steak. And potatoes. And asparagus.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“Mary is a liar. You shouldn’t dye your hair pink, it would look horrible.”

“Why do you hate me?”

“That waiter sure is taking his time. Say, I think I’m going to hunt him down and have him take our orders, yeah?” Sirius starts to slide out of the booth, standing up and starting to fix his shirt.

“Sit down,” Remus says. Sirius sits back down. “Answer the question, Sirius.”

“Why do you hate me? Huh?” Sirius raises an eyebrow. “Can’t answer that, can you? Huh?”

“I don’t hate you,” Remus answers easily. Sirius’ cocky smile drops from his face. “You get under my skin and can irritate me like no one else can, but I don’t hate you.”

“Well, there,” Sirius nods. “That’s my answer, too.”

“That can’t be your answer.”

“It is. I just said it is.”

“It’s my answer, and you’re stealing it.”

Sirius scoffs, “You can’t steal an answer to an open-ended question.”

“Are we ready to order, now?” The waiter comes back and asks.

“No!” They both yell.

“It’s a personal answer,” Remus sneers. “You can’t take mine because it’s personal to me.”

“So, what? You’re the only person in the whole wide world who can be irritated?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not how that works, Remus. You know why?”

“I don’t - ”

“Because I’m irritated right now. You’re irritating me. Currently. So, there you go. It’s my answer.”

“You’re a shit liar,” Remus starts.

“Thank you.”

“And that’s not your answer.”

Sirius bites his cheek and rolls his eyes. “You’re making this way too difficult.”

“I’m not. Answer the question.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“It’s your own fault.”

“You know what?” Sirius laughs. “I’m not doing this. James wanted a receipt to prove I actually took you out to dinner, so I think I’ll pay for that nice elderly couple's meal and then I’m leaving. With or without you.”

“Fine by me!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” Remus gets up, the chair screeching as it slides harshly against the wooden floors, and stalks to the bathrooms. His heart is going a million miles an hour and he’s pretty sure he’s never hated anyone as much as he hates Sirius Orion Black.

The bathroom is empty when he walks in, stopping at the sink to splash some cold water on his face and stare at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed red and his eyes look wide and dark.

He blinks and shakes his head, diverts his eyes away from the mirror. The splash of the water against the sink is just loud enough to drown out his thoughts, his hands gripping the edge of the sink as he watches the water pour down the drain. He runs a rough hand through his hair and turns off the water, forcing himself to calm down so he can face Sirius again. He has absolutely no doubt that Sirius would leave him here.

The door to the bathroom opens and closes with a loud thud. Remus grabs some paper towels to dry his hands, throws them away, and turns to leave.

Sirius stands in front of the door, leaning against it with an air of indifference that Remus knows is fake. Sirius stares at him for a couple seconds, his eyes narrow and his face hard. Remus only has the chance to blink before Sirius moves quickly and pushes him up against the bathroom wall, his hands low against his waist and his tongue suddenly in Remus’ mouth.

“I do hate you,” Sirius mumbles as he wraps his hands around Remus’ hips and pushes him back so he’s pressed tight against the wall. Sirius pushes himself closer into him and drops his mouth to Remus’ neck, breathy and hot open-mouth kisses pressed against his throat.

Remus’ mind finally kicks in and he makes good use of his own hands, running them through Sirius’ silky hair and down his firm back. “Feelings mutual,” he breathes.

He hardly has a moment to say anything else, Sirius shutting him up with a harsh kiss. He switches between using his tongue to explore Remus’ mouth and biting his bottom lip. Remus lets out an involuntary moan that causes Sirius to push himself even closer, hips and chests pressed tightly against each other. Remus can feel Sirius’ breathy gasps against his neck, his lips pressed lightly in an imitation of a kiss. Sirius is hard, his cock brushing up against Remus’ thigh, and he lets out a loud and intentional moan at the sensation.

“Fuck,” Remus gasps. Sirius is everywhere, hands and lips exploring every inch of exposed skin. He pushes closer - Remus almost has half a mind to tell him he can’t get any closer, almost every inch of their bodies already touching. He lets out a sharp hiss when Sirius digs harsh fingers into his hip. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Feelings mutual,” Sirius pants. His mouth is hot, licking and sucking along Remus’ jaw and neck. His hands loosely start to play with the waistband of Remus’ pants. A finger rubs circles on Remus’ hipbone, his touch feather-light and gentle and absolutely maddening.

Sirius starts to blindly fumble with the buckle on Remus’ belt, his mouth never leaving the spot on Remus’ neck right behind his ear. Remus untangles his hands from his hair and lightly trails them down his back. His shoulders are firm and strong beneath his white dress shirt. Remus commits it all to memory - the bumps of his spine, the goosebumps all down his arms, the breathy and soft pants that make him want to do unspeakable sins.

Remus takes advantage of Sirius’ distraction and uses his thigh to push Sirius’ legs further apart, moving so that Sirius is practically sitting on his thigh. Sirius’ head tilts back as Remus pushes his leg up, right where he knows Sirius’ hard cock is straining in his pants. Sirius slumps forward, his hands slamming against the wall on either side of Remus’ head. His hips grind against Remus’ thigh in a slow and steady motion, his breathing shallow and labored and his hair sticking to his neck.

“Remus,” Sirius whines, his hips moving in jerky motions against Remus’ thighs. A slight shine has formed against his forehead and Remus only has the vague awareness that he wants to know how it tastes. “Remus.”

“Hmm?” Remus hums as he pushes a strand of hair out of his face. Sirius drops his head in between Remus’ neck and shoulder, leaves sloppy and wet kisses in the same spot as before. He doesn’t stop moving his hips, letting out a soft and breathy gasp every time his cock brushes against Remus’ thigh. “What? Use your words.”

He grabs Sirius tightly by the waist and pulls him impossibly closer. Sirius moans and bites down on the spot behind his ear. “Fuck,” Remus hisses. “Those aren’t words, Sirius.”

Sirius pulls his head back, his cheeks flushed and pupils blown. His body is pressed tight against Remus, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Remus can still feel the outline of his cock pressed against him and making him crazy. Sirius looks a mess. Remus brushes a piece of hair out of his face and rests his hand against Sirius’ jaw, stifling his content sigh when Sirius leans into the touch.

He leans down and kisses him. Sirius moans into it, his hands working faster to fully pull Remus’ belt off. He throws it across the bathroom with a loud clunk and starts fumbling with the button.

“Stupid ugly belt,” Sirius pants. He pushes himself close again with a rise of his hips, letting out another loud and breathless moan. Remus’ cock is straining in his pants, desperate to be touched or sucked or anything.

“Belts not ugly,” Remus breathes, tangling his hands in Sirius’ hair and gently pulling. Sirius gasps and lets his head fall back. Remus takes advantage of his exposed neck to lean forward to suck a harsh bruise along his jaw, smiles when Sirius whines and moves his hips frantically with no rhythm or sense. Remus keeps his hands loosely around his waist and watches in awe. He has to fight back his own moan every time he feels the outline of Sirius’ cock brush against him or the hot, breathy pants against his neck.

In one smooth movement, Sirius pushes himself away with a groan and drops down to his knees. Remus’ mind goes blank. He glances down at Sirius, who’s looking up at him with wide eyes and a small smile. Remus throws his head back against the wall with a loud thud as Sirius quickly starts to unzip his pants and pull them down.

Sirius looks back up at him, his lips pink and shiny and his hair a mess. He trails a soft and gentle finger up Remus’ thigh. “Please,” Remus begs, already embarrassingly needy. Seconds or a lifetime passes, he’s not sure, before Sirius frees him from his boxers. The cold air is harsh against his warm skin, but the feeling is fleeting as Sirius begins to litter hot kisses up his inner thigh and work his way closer and closer and closer.

Remus can’t think. If he could, he would probably stop. He would probably tell Sirius to get up and take him home. He would probably say that they shouldn’t do this. He might mention that it’s a bad idea. He may even bring up how this will probably cause even more problems. But he can’t think, so he doesn’t. Instead he can only watch as Sirius looks up at him, bats his eyelashes, and takes his cock down his throat.

“Fuck, Sirius,” he moans.

Sirius smiles and looks up at him, skin flushed and lips red. Persistent and teasing hands map out every inch of Remus’ skin. Remus gasps at everything - every sensation somehow feeling a thousand times more intense. With his best effort, he pushes his hips as far back against the wall as he can so he’s not impatiently shoving his cock down Sirius’ throat. But Sirius chases after him. Spends an agonizing couple of seconds sucking at the head of his cock, a teasing tongue constantly playing with the slit, before he takes Remus’ cock down his throat again.

Remus throws his head back against the wall and briefly squeezes his eyes shut before he forces himself to pry them open and watch. Sirius moans around him, his hand working what he can’t fit, and Remus hasn’t felt this close, this quickly, in ten years. His fingers twist into Sirius’ shirt, watching in awe as his cock repeatedly disappears into Sirius’ mouth.

“Sirus, fuck,” he whines. Sirius moans around him again, swirls his tongue and hollows his cheeks. His hips instinctively buck forward and Sirius groans. His hands grip Remus’ waist briefly, pulling his hips forward and sending his cock far down Sirius’ throat.

“S’good,” he says breathlessly. Sirius’ eyes snap open, wide and darker than usual. He moans around him again, an agonizing reminder that Remus is so close. “I’m - fuck, close.”

Sirius pulls off instantly and looks up at him with flushed cheeks and a smirk. “Already?”

“Shut up,” he groans. “Could you, God, please?”

“I’ve been known to give great head, but this may just be a record for me, Remus,” Sirius says with a sly smile and patronizing tilt of his head. Remus hates him.

“Asshole,” he breathes, his fingers clenching tightly around Sirius’ shirt. He vaguely recognizes how soft it is, some thick fabric that’s probably insanely expensive. The thought is lost when Sirius sucks at the head of his cock again.

Sirius looks up at him with an irritating smirk before leaning forward and taking Remus’ cock back down his throat. Remus sighs in relief, moaning when he feels Sirius moan around him. Sirius hollows his cheeks and swirls his tongue and Remus thinks a tornado could blow through the bathroom right now and he wouldn’t even notice. He taps Sirius repeatedly on the shoulder, his head thrown back and his back arched. “Sirius, fuck. I’m, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Sirius moans and nods, both the sensation and thought finally pushing Remus over the edge as he comes down Sirius’ throat. His shoulders slump and he leans back against the wall, his chest heaving while he tries to catch his breath. Sirius slowly pulls off, leaving one soft kiss on his hip bone. His fingers are gentle and soft against his thigh as he gently pulls Remus’ boxers back up, leaving more soft kisses on the exposed skin.

Remus looks down at Sirius, still on his knees, with his lips shiny and red, and feels his cock give a valiant twitch. It’s only a second before he’s dragging Sirius up to his feet, switching spots and pushing him back against the wall. Remus pushes forward to kiss him, revels in the taste of himself on Sirius’ tongue. Sirius moans into it, a desperate and needy thing that makes Remus’ cock twitch again.

He runs his hands down Sirius’ back and to his waist, plays with the hem of his shirt as he runs a cold hand up against his bare chest. Sirius moans and pulls Remus closer, his hands resting against Remus’ ass.

Remus drops his hands off of Sirius, moves his mouth against Sirius’ so naturally you would think they’d done it a million times. He reaches for the button of Sirius’ pants, fingers quick and steady and ready to touch, but he finds them already undone and unzipped. Sirius pulls back a little bit, head tilted up to look toward Remus.

“I, um,” Sirius clears his throat. “I’m, uh, good.”

“You’re…oh. Oh,” Remus nods stupidly. “I would’ve - ”

“Yeah,” Sirius cuts him off. “Yeah, I know…”

“So, you - ”

“Yeah, uh…yeah. I did.”

“Do you - do you want me - ”

“It’s fine. I, um.” Sirius’ cheeks somehow flush even more. “Yeah. I’m good.”

It’s awkward.

It’s terribly, horribly, embarrassingly awkward. Sirius is still pressed against the wall and Remus is still the one keeping him there.

Remus comes to his senses a couple seconds later, dropping his hands off Sirius’ waist and stepping back, putting a sort of uncomfortable amount of space between them. He bends over and picks his belt off the floor, weaves it through the belt loops of his pants in uncomfortable silence while Sirius buttons and zips his.

He doesn’t think about the forty-five-minute drive back to Godric’s Hollow.

Chapter Text

Remus wakes up on Wednesday morning and feels a level of deep regret he hasn’t felt since his teens. He flips to his side and thinks about calling out work. He’s sick or had a family emergency or his pipe burst or he’s got a hickey on his neck and he’s supposed to hate the person who put it there.

All very valid reasons to call out of work, he thinks.

Of course, he doesn’t hate the person who put it there. No, he sort of likes him - in a mostly neutral but also sort of sexual manner, seeing as said person has left a giant hickey on his neck.

Said person who put the hickey on his neck is also supposed to hate Remus, although he must sort of like him if he left a giant hickey on Remus’ neck. Do people tend to leave hickeys on the necks of people they dislike?

Remus can’t say he’s experienced in the matter, but if memory serves him correctly Sirius should have a slightly similar hickey in a slightly similar spot that was left by someone who has slightly similar feelings of dislike.

And because memory does serve him correctly, the thought of Sirius waking up with a matching hickey sends his blood running south and his mind replaying scenes from the night before.

He rolls over on his stomach and thinks calming thoughts - lavender, hot cups of coffee, ocean waves, raindrops tapping against a patio, birds singing, Sirius, Sirius on his knees, Sirius on his knees with Remus’ dick in his mouth, Sirius on his knees with Remus’ dick in his mouth and his own hand wrapped around himself.

He shoves a hand in his pants with a sigh.

After his shameful wank and his even more shameful second wank in the shower, he plods across his house to his office and plops down in the crappy chair. Drops of water from his wet hair drip onto his shoulders and for some reason it feels notable.

Responding to emails seems like a task personally sent up from Hell, his eyes unfocusing themselves as he scrolls through two pages of emails he has to respond to.

Who sucks someone’s dick in a public bathroom?! In the public bathroom of a fancy restaurant, at that. Sirius totally accosted him! There he was, drying his hands, a respectful and normal bathroom behavior, and here comes Sirius with his tongue!

His wonderful and skilled tongue.

Good morning, Trisha.

Thanks for your patience while we finish your proposal. Attached you will find a quote of what you -

Sirius sucked Fabian’s dick behind Taco Bell. Maybe that’s just something Sirius does. Maybe it didn’t matter that it was Remus or Remus’ dick. Maybe Remus was just there and Sirius was just horny.

Lily has shared far more stories about Sirius and his active sex life than Remus has ever needed or wanted to know about, so maybe Remus was just there and Sirius was just horny.

Maybe he should stop thinking about it and wondering what it meant because maybe it meant nothing.

A platonic and friendly sucking of one’s dick.

Good morning Janice,

Thank you for reaching out to Moody Publishing. We are currently booked out for the next several months, however -

Sirius accosted him, not the other way around! If anyone should have to explain themselves, it’s Sirius. Remus was minding his own business! He was drying his hands!

He was minding his own business drying his hands and now look at him! He can’t even get through a single email without his mind wandering to pale hands and pink lips and yellow tile floors. How can he be expected to work under these conditions?!

Sirius has plagued his mind! He sucked his dick and plagued his mind. Now, Remus isn’t thinking about deadlines and deals but wondering who on Earth taught Sirius how to suck a dick and whether he should thank them or kill them.

Good morning George,

I understand what you are saying and that you are upset, but as I have mentioned before, we are unable to do anything about this situation as it, unfortunately, is out of our control. Per my last email, we have several options that may be more suitable for your needs.

I’ve CC’d my boss, Alaster Moody, who would be happy to help you if you have any further questions.

Thanks,

Remus Lupin

Are there rules to public restroom dick sucks? Should Remus call? No, calling is too needy. Besides, what would he even say? Gee, thanks for sucking my dick last night!

No, maybe he should text? He could text. Say he had a nice time last night. Thanks for the… No, he certainly can’t text him that!

He could show up at his house. But that seems like a very intense and stalker-like reaction. He definitely shouldn’t do that. It’s only a five-minute walk - no, that’s definitely insane and he shouldn’t do that.

He’ll text.

That’s casual. It’s mature and casual and normal. You text someone after a non-date-platonic dinner-with-a-public-bathroom-dick-sucking-for-dessert. That’s the polite thing to do. And Remus is very polite. He’ll text. He’ll text Sirius and say he had a good night! That’s normal. He had a good night!

Did he?

He sort of had an existential crisis.

The first half of the night wasn’t bad, sort of, given the…circumstances. But the second half…his mind was cloudy and murky and full of circling thoughts of insecurity.

Why would Sirius suck his dick in a public bathroom? They were having a platonic non-date dinner and then Sirius went and sucked his dick! Who does that on a platonic non-date dinner?!

Not that he’s upset about the certain turn of events his night took, not exactly. Maybe he’s just a bit confused. And he can’t stop thinking about Sirius and his mouth and his moans and his soft hair and his -

He thought about it all last night too. It consumed him when he was pressed up tight against Sirius’ back on his ridiculous motorcycle, mind whirling with exactly one thought. Every time he tried to drift off somewhere else, tried thinking about baseballs or dinosaurs or Miss Martha’s dingy green gardening Crocs, Sirius would shift how he was sitting and Remus’ mind would go straight back to the same thought.

It’s all very unfortunate for Remus. He can’t find any peace with his own thoughts. His mind is an oasis of thinking, and currently, it’s focused on one singular man.

And Remus really just hates that.

They hadn’t even spoken when Sirius dropped Remus off at his house, only a sad and pathetic wave goodbye. Remus had barely even finished unlocking his front door when Sirius was peeling out of his driveway and flying down the road.

Remus should have invited him in.

That's the polite thing to do, isn’t it? Someone sucks your dick, you invite them into your house! But he didn’t do that. No, no, he collapsed face-first onto his bed and laid like that for two hours before practically wanking himself to exhaustion.

Something that Sirius surely could have helped him with, if he’d invited him in!

His delirious and unhelpful thoughts are interrupted by a loud and distinct Lily knock at his front door. He doesn’t let her in, knowing Lily will barge in all on her own. A couple moments later he builds up the energy to leave his office and finds her on his couch with a cat on her lap and two coffees on the table in front of her.

Allan jumps up when he sees Remus and runs over to brush against his ankles with a purr. Remus bends over to pick him up and sits down on the couch next to Lily.

“Okay,” she starts, crossing her legs underneath her. “I brought you coffee and my cat, and I left Harry with James because I figured you’d need to vent after last night.”

Oh, would he like to vent!

“Well - ”

Lily puts a hand up to stop him. “Here’s the deal: I got you coffee and my cat, you get to vent for ten whole minutes. And I will actively listen to four of them.”

Remus scoffs. “How awfully generous of you.”

“Thank you,” she takes a deep sigh. “Okay, go.”

“I was going to say that it actually…wasn’t that bad.”

If you call getting your dick sucked by a handsome man with pretty eyes and pink lips not bad, then yeah.

She sits up straighter, her eyebrows furrowed. “What wasn’t?”

“Dinner.”

“Dinner wasn’t actually that bad?”

“No, it…it was alright.”

“The dinner you had last night, with Sirius, was alright?”

Remus nods. He strokes a hand down Allan and twists his finger around his fluffy tale to avoid looking at Lily and making direct eye-contact. He subconsciously pulls at the collar of his t-shirt, trying to cover up the dark spots he knows are there.

“I’ll be damned.” Lily throws her head back against the couch with a dramatic huff. “I feel like I should buy a goddamn lottery ticket.”

He plays with Allan’s paws while the cat purrs in his lap, his eyes going sleepy. “No need to mock.”

Lily laughs, “There is always a need to mock. So, what exactly made it alright? Did you guys paint each other's nails? Swap diaries? Braid each other's hair? Share all your deep, dark secrets?”

Remus is on the verge of laying out all the sordid details, from the thing Sirius did with his tongue to exactly how Sirius’ lips felt wrapped around his cock, before he pauses.

Lily doesn’t know they hooked up.

Sirius, who details every waking moment of his life to his best friends, didn’t tell them that they had hooked up in the bathroom of the fancy restaurant. Lily, a sucker for gossip despite how much she pretends she isn’t, is here to discuss the dinner she thinks he had, not the probably bad sexual decision that he made last night.

Remus clears his throat and coughs, his mind in overdrive trying to convince himself he doesn’t care - isn’t impacted by this information at all, actually.

“For your information, my hair is nowhere near long enough to braid.”

“You underestimate the skills of my fingers, Lupin.”

“Well then, James is a very lucky man,” he smirks. “Where, um, where is he?”

“James?” Lily laughs. “He’s probably running or gardening or grilling a chicken. God only knows.”

Remus nods, his fingers distantly running through Allan’s fur. “So, you guys haven’t heard from Sirius?”

Remus hates himself the moment the question is out of his mouth, feels like a teenager with braces and zits and oversized glasses. He half expects Lily to dig out a diary and big fluffy pink pen so she can scribble hearts and Mrs. Lily James Potter-Evans over and over again while she goes on about how no, she hasn’t seen ‘Star’ since yesterday.

But she doesn’t do any of that.

Instead, she looks at him for a moment, a faint quirk of her eyebrow and a small smile. “No, haven’t heard from him since yesterday.” She gasps dramatically, “Have you killed him?”

“Ha ha ha. No, he’s perfectly alive - as far as I’m aware.”

“Hmm,” Lily hums skeptically. “I’m not going to find pieces of a motorcycle buried under your front porch, am I?”

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to hide my crime in my own home?”

Lily looks him up and down for a moment before smiling, “No, and thank God for it. I’m far too busy to be the star of a LifeTime documentary right now. And you’d look terrible in orange.”

“I would not look - why would you be the star of the documentary?”

“The beautiful red-headed mother who was a neighbor and best friend of the victim and the murderer? Half of the documentary would be me.”

“Sirius is James’ best friend, for one. And B, I’m the murderer, shouldn’t I be the focus of the documentary?”

“No, you’re in jail.”

“They can film me in jail.”

“But you look terrible in orange.”

“I do not look terrible in orange.”

“You do too,” Lily smirks before gasping, this time for real. “Remus Lupin!” She yells, her eyes wide and knowing. “You hooked up!”

Remus’ cheeks flush and he instinctively claps a hand to the mark on his neck. Lily starts climbing across the couch to try and pry his hand away, her bony knees burying into his legs.

“Who? Who? Who?” She practically yells into his ear.

He shoves her away, sending her back to her side couch. “None of your business.”

“Remus Lupin getting frisky! I thought I'd never see the day,” she giggles. She runs a hand through her hair before leaning her head back against the couch and turning to look at him.

He moves his legs so they’re lying across her lap. “Okay, don’t say frisky, and do you think I’m some Virgin Mary?”

“It looks pretty fresh, must have happened last night,” she mumbles to herself, reaching her hand out to try and poke the hickey. Remus bats her hand away. “You went to dinner with Sirius!” She yells, her eyes wide and jaw dropped. “You go to dinner with Sirius, and show up with a hickey the next morning…”

“Lily,” he starts, frantically racking his brain to think of something he can say that isn’t ‘yeah, he sucked my dick in the bathroom of the restaurant’ or ‘if you think this is bad, you should see my thighs.’

She points an accusing finger at him, “You hooked up with a waiter! Remus, you can’t go on a date with someone and hookup with the waiter!”

Huh?

“Huh?”

“Well, you obviously didn’t sleep with Sirius,” she waves a dismissive hand. “I would’ve known.”

Remus blinks. “You would've known?”

“He would’ve come to my house and told me all the gory details. Or, well, told my husband while I pretended not to listen. So, what was he like?”

“Sirius?”

“No! Your waiter,” she wiggles her eyebrows and jabs her finger into his ankle.

“Oh, uh, it was…it was fine.” Remus runs his hand through Allan’s fur.

“Fine?”

“Mmhm,” he hums, scratching behind Allan’s ears. “Fine.”

“If someone ever asks James what sleeping with me is like and he says ‘fine,’ I’d castrate him.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“The giant fucking hickey on your neck does not say ‘fine.’”

“It was…nice.”

“Nice is not better than fine.”

Remus throws his hands up. “Why are you so offended on behalf of my waiter?”

“Remus, a man gives you a giant hickey and you say the experience was ‘fine’ and ‘nice.’”

“It was fine and nice!”

It was fine and nice and it was wonderful and excellent and perhaps the best blowjob he’s ever had and he wishes he didn’t remember it but, God, is he so glad he does because he’s not sure he’ll ever get to experience it again.

She scoffs. “So, what, did you do it in the bathroom? Oh my gosh, you so totally did, didn’t you?” She laughs. “While Sirius was waiting! Oh, he was furious, I bet. I’m surprised you’re not bitching and moaning about that.”

Remus doesn’t think about the fact that he was moaning, but not about that. “Um…yeah, he, uh, he was.”

“Was Sirius that miserable that you had to hook up with your waiter? Oh! Was it before or after dinner?” She asks. “Please tell me it was before and you gave him a matching hickey! Oh my god, Sirius must have been just pissed. I’m shocked he didn’t come over last night to complain! Actually, that really is weird. That’s unlike Sirius to not complain about something…”

“It was after,” Remus cuts her off, hoping to derail her from venturing into that line of thinking. “When Sirius was paying the bill.”

“Remus Lupin,” she shakes her head and clicks her tongue. “Hooking up while your date pays the bill…”

“‘Date’ is a very strong word. Forced companion, more like.”

She ignores him. “So, Sirius has no idea you hooked up with someone during your date?”

“Not a date. And, uh, no. Nope, no idea.”

The expression on her face flickers for just a second, something almost like concern, before she completely changes the conversation to a game that Harry (James) created using a soccer ball, a tennis ball, and a broom.

Remus listens occasionally, his mind otherwise focused back on the implications of Sirius not telling Lily and James that they hooked up last night. He bounces back and forth wondering if that’s good or not.

And then he bounces back and forth wondering if he wants it to be good or not.

Sirius Black, a man who told James Potter great details about his time behind a Taco Bell a mere fifteen minutes after it happened, didn’t mention hooking up with Remus. He didn’t even bother stopping by the Potter's house last night or this morning.

Honestly, moments after the bathroom fiasco, Remus had thought about it and assumed that Sirius would drop him off after dinner and drive his motorcycle five feet across the street to detail the night to James. He sort of even expected James to show up early this morning with a spare pair of running shoes and compression socks so they could jog together while they talked about their feelings.

But none of that happened.

An hour after the bathroom fiasco he watched from his front porch as Sirius sped out of his driveway and bypassed the Potter house, his motorcycle unbearably loud during the quiet night.

Sirius didn’t go detailing the night to James. James didn’t show up early this morning to go for a jog with Remus. Remus didn’t have to dodge questions about his feelings and emotions.

He woke up three hours before he was supposed to, alone in his bed with an obnoxiously large hickey.

***

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! Out of more than 360 species of Sharks, only a handful of species pose a potential threat to humans. Did you know? Elephants (~500) and deer (~100) kill more people every year than Sharks (~10)! Talk about a bad rep!

***

Wednesday’s haunts follow him into Thursday, his dreams turning into nightmares that are actually reality.

He stares at his sad, pathetic, miserable reflection in the mirror, the hickey on his neck that’s hardly fading and eternally mocking.

He hates that he stands in his bathroom thinking about the yellow tile of the bathroom at Dumbledore’s and whether it gave Sirius bruises on his knees. He hates that he shampooed his hair and started listing the way it feels different compared to Sirius’. He hates that he brushed his teeth and distantly wondered if his mouth looked any different.

(It doesn’t, you dumbass.)

Normally, Thursday mornings would warrant a coffee, a well-deserved treat for almost getting through the week, but Remus can’t bring himself to risk the potential of running into Sirius. He knows that Sirius goes to the cafe every morning, usually at the same time Remus does.

So, he decided not to go this morning. Because Sirius would be there.

Yeah, yeah. It’s pathetic. But he still has an embarrassingly dark hickey below his ear and he can’t bring himself to look Sirius in the eyes. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

They haven’t spoken.

Not that he expected them to, but still. Sirius has his number. Remus has his number, too, so he could be the one to text. But he didn’t proposition Sirius in a public restroom.

No, he just let Sirius suck him off in a public restroom. Which is, obviously, much better.

He thought about it, he really did, but he couldn’t think of something to say. He spent hours staring at his ceiling fan and thinking of something, anything, to say, but his mind couldn’t focus on anything except replaying the moment over and over again. He ended up having another wank instead.

He wasn’t expecting a text, necessarily. He wasn’t expecting anything, really. But for some reason nothing feels worse, it feels wrong and sordid. Like regret and mistakes and whoops!

So, he’s avoiding Sirius. Like a mature, healthy, and intelligent adult.

Sure, Godric’s Hollow is small, and Sirius is everywhere and involved in everything, but he’s sure he can manage. He’ll just adjust his day-to-day routine and switch around the times he does everything and never speak to James or Lily again and then he probably won’t ever have to see Sirius again.

All very reasonable adjustments that he can very easily make.

All of this is why he leaves for his walk to MarBean’s at noon.

Who cares if his walk to the cafe is a little warmer because it’s the afternoon? And, if he’s awake until midnight because he has caffeine jitters? Big deal! His emails had typos and errors from his sleep-riddled mind? Use context clues!

He’s in publishing, not writing!

Yes, changing his life around to avoid Sirius is definitely the mature thing for him to do.

He makes it to the cafe, a little sweatier than usual, and opens the door, his phone buzzing with a message. He takes it from his back pocket and checks the message while he gets in line, happy to see that noon is much quieter at MarBean’s than mornings are. See, this was a great idea!

Lily: james is worried u will whither away into nothing so he wants u to come over for dinner

Remus breathes out a laugh and starts typing out his reply, the line moving in front of him. Only one person is ordering in line ahead of him, compared to the usual four or five that he has to wait behind in the mornings.

Remus: fine.

“Next!” Marlene yells. Remus glances up from his phone and sees her staring at him impatiently.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Um, a medium iced mocha, please.”

Marlene grabs the iced drink cup, her narrow brown eyes never leaving his. “Why are you here?”

Remus stops digging his wallet out of his pocket and blinks at her. “I’m a customer?”

“At this time. Why are you here at this time?”

“Oh, um. I had a busy morning.”

“I’m sure,” she smirks knowingly, her finger tapping just below her ear, mimicking the spot where Remus’ giant hickey now permanently lives. She hands the cup off to Dorcas, who wears a similar shit-eating grin, to make the drink.

Remus coughs and diverts his eyes away from her and her knowing stare. “I fell.”

“On your ear?”

“Yes.”

“You know, I had someone else in here who also conveniently fell on his ear.”

“…It’s an epidemic.”

“Yes, I think so.” She takes the finished drink from Dorcas, sliding it across the counter toward Remus. She holds a hand up when Remus starts to hand over money, “It’s been paid for.”

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Thanks.”

“Not by me, dumbass.” Her eyes snap away from him and look off to the side, “By the other guy who fell on his ear.”

Remus follows her gaze to find Sirius, not-so-casually lingering by the exit door. Sirius locks eyes with him and a stunning blush fills his cheeks.

They stare at each other for a couple seconds, Remus doesn’t count, before Sirius stumbles over his own feet, his shoes making a loud squeaking noise as he struggles to push open the pull door. Eventually, he figures it out, pulling the door open with far too much force and almost hitting himself in the face. He can hear Sirius mumbling something to himself, his face beat red as he rushes out of the cafe, a small bit of coffee staining his white shirt.

“Pathetic,” Marlene rolls her eyes. Remus bites back his smile as he watches Sirius disappear. Marlene snaps her fingers and gestures for him to move. “Get out of my line.”

Remus takes his iced mocha and gets out of line, a stupid smile staining his face during his whole sweaty walk home.

***

Despite the decent, if not awkward, coffee shop encounter, Remus still decides he should continue his plan of avoiding Sirius. It simply feels like the most reasonable thing for him to do.

And that’s why he goes to the grocery store straight after work. He normally would go later, after a solid hour of staring at the white wall of his living room, but he would occasionally run into Sirius.

You know, it’s probably a good thing he’s changing up his routine - makes sure no kidnappers and murders can catch onto his schedule. Not that there are many kidnappers or murders in Godric’s Hollow, but there was that whole Halloween incident last year with the man who was dressed like a rat, the man who was dressed like a dog, and a deer.

So, better to be safe than sorry!

And Lily texted earlier inviting him to dinner, so it’s only fair he picks up a couple groceries for them to use - since they feed him and all.

All of the vegetables he bought last time have turned to rot at the bottom of his fridge, so he’s got a basket full of new vegetables that will take their place and start their journey to rotting. He’ll throw those ones out in two weeks and the cycle will start all over again, but he likes the fake sense of accomplishment he feels when he opens his fridge to see his cucumbers and carrots - right next to his stash of chocolate-covered graham crackers.

He’s got himself a whole cake as well, German chocolate. It’s not his birthday or the birthday of anyone he knows, but he’s been craving cake since his not-a-date dinner with Sirius and he has a basket full of vegetables that he won’t eat, so it’s all very healthy and nutritionally balanced.

Remus grabs his last item, a large pack of chicken that he’ll gift to James before making his way to the checkout counter, the handle of his overfilled basket digging into his forearm. He sets his basket down on the counter, only one cashier and three people in line in front of him. He’s about to pull out his phone and text James, something about his chicken gift and his request for dinner, when he hears a strange noise behind him. He glances out of the corner of his eye and - oh.

“Oh,” he breathes. He quickly diverts his eyes, focusing back on his grocery basket. His heart rate picks up and his palms get sweaty. It’s sad and pathetic and he wants the ground to swallow him up whole, please.

He builds up the courage to glance at Sirius, a quick peek out of the corner of his eye. Sirius’ eyes are pointedly not looking at him, glancing all around the store as he nonchalantly taps his foot against the worn linoleum.

And he’s only got one item. A bottle of wine.

Remus tries not to think about the implications. Tries not to think about the last time Sirius was in line behind him with a bottle of wine. Tries not to imagine Fabian and his stupid red hair waiting for stupid Sirius and his stupid wine.

“You can, um,” he clears his throat. “You can go ahead of me.”

Sirius blinks in surprise. He moves the wine bottle between his hands. “It’s fine.”

“You’ve only got one item.”

“Huh?” He asks, a little too loud.

“You’re - I have a whole basket, you only have one thing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius nods. “Yeah, I do.”

“You can…I can get behind you.”

“You can what!?”

“In line! I’ll get in line behind you,” Remus says firmly, with clear enunciation and emphasis on exactly what he means. He picks up his basket from the counter and uses a frantic hand to urge Sirius to move in front of him.

Sirius glances at him wearily before moving to the front of the line, an awkward shuffle as they try to move around each other while clearly hoping to avoid any of their limbs making direct contact. “Thank you,” he smiles tightly.

Remus nods again and his skin is on fire. He can feel his pulse in his throat, his mouth somehow feeling both dry and wet. His tongue feels too big for his mouth and his brain is screaming at him to calm the fuck down.

“Is it…Is it your birthday?” Sirius nods toward the whole chocolate cake in Remus’ basket and Remus wants to die. He wants a giant sinkhole or a flaming rocket or a freed lion from the zoo to come and maul him to death.

“No,” he shakes his head. His face is on fire and everything is terrible.

“Oh,” Sirius mumbles. Caroline is in line in front of them, a cart full of vegetables that Remus knows she’ll eat. Sirius and Remus stare awkwardly at each other, occasionally glancing down at their shoes when the silence becomes a little too unbearable. “It’s an interesting dinner.”

“Sorry?”

Sirius gestures to his basket again. “Anchovy paste and marshmallows and quinoa flour. What’re you making with it?”

“I don’t cook.” Remus hasn’t cooked since he was five and his mother did everything while she pretended Remus was helpful, and he certainly won’t be cooking now. That’ll all be James, whose big bleeding heart will force him to feed poor starving, and unskilled Remus. “I’m not the one cooking tonight.”

“Oh,” Sirius mumbles. “That’s…oh.”

Remus doesn’t have much time to question the weird response, Caroline is done checking out and Bill is waving Sirius forward with a friendly smile. Sirius buys his bottle of wine and waves a polite goodbye to Remus before rushing out of the store, his cheeks flushed and his smile long gone.

***

“Alert the press!” Mary yells before his front door shuts with an echoing slam. “Call the anchors! Call the news! Call Kelly and Mark! Call Drew Barrymore! Call Ellen DeGeneres!”

“Why do I have to call them?” He yells from his kitchen where he’s staring blankly at his completely empty fridge, his bread moldy and his hot sauce expired. James had called an hour ago to cancel on dinner - some type of serious emergency. He was incredibly apologetic, all weepy and forlorn about canceling plans, but he promised to bake Remus some peanut butter chocolate chip cookies so it's all even in Remus' book. “Can’t you call?”

“Call them!” She yells.

“Isn’t Ellen DeGeneres retired?” He mumbles to himself as he closes the door to his fridge and walks to his living room, Mary already sprawled out on his couch.

“She is, but Remus, this news will bring her out of retirement,” Mary says dramatically. He joins her on the couch, having to shove her legs away so he can sit. “This is Earth-shattering, moon-destroying, sun-exploding news, Remus.”

“Why do we have to destroy the moon?”

“Shut it. Are you ready? Are you sitting down? You’ll need to be seated for this.”

He gestures to himself already sitting on the couch with a quirk of his eyebrow and a confused smile.

“Emmeline and Daniel called it off!” Mary squeals.

“No!” He gasps.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” she nods dramatically. “It’s over. Dunzo. No more. Exes. Broken up!”

“Oh my god,” he mumbles.

Mary kicks her legs up and lays them across his lap, his hand instinctively reaching out to twist the bottom of her pants in between his fingers. “Yup. Fiancées no more.”

“What happened?”

“She hasn’t told me yet,” Mary mumbles, nervously chewing on her lip. “I haven’t spoken to her.”

“How’d you know, then?” He asks.

“She kicked him out,” Mary answers. “I was home and could hear them arguing in their driveway. He had boxes and suitcases that he was shoving into his car.”

“The stupid red Corvette? How many could he even fit in it?” Remus asks with a laugh.

“Hardly any,” Mary smiles. “He put them all in his car and drove off.”

“Mar…” he says gently. “Are you sure they broke up, then? They could’ve just had an argument.”

“No, no, they broke up,” she says with a shake of her head.

“Mar - ”

“She deleted all of his photos on Instagram.”

“Oh…oh.”

“Yeah, they’re done,” she sighs. “Every anniversary post, birthday post, engagement post, ‘look how in love we are’ post - all deleted.”

Remus fumbles for his phone, opening Instagram and pulling up Emmeline's profile, all evidence of Daniel wiped away. “And you don’t know what happened?” He asks as he throws his phone down on the coffee table.

“No clue,” she says. “I watched from the window.”

“Mary…”

“I know, okay! But I already did it, so don’t scold me. I thought it may be…improper of me to ask her what happened.”

“Considering a couple weeks ago you told her you loved her?”

“Considering a couple weeks ago I told her I loved her,” she says with a sigh. “I don’t know how to approach it.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” he says gently. “Mar, she just broke up with him. They dated for five years and were engaged.”

“But she’s my best friend.”

“Okay, ouch. Second, you told her you are in love with her and now she and her boyfriend have broken up. You have to give her time.”

“I gave her time! I’ve given her space and time and distance. Now she’s broken up with her boyfriend and…and maybe it’s because she feels the same way,” she says hopefully.

“Mar…”

“She might.”

“She might,” he agrees. “But she might not.”

“Okay, ouch,” she scoffs.

“Come on, Mary. She could’ve broken up with Daniel because she realized she’s in love with you, or she could’ve broken up with Daniel because she realized he’s a loser.”

“Could be both,” she mumbles.

“Could be. But she’s just ended an engagement. You still have to give her time, whether she loves you or not.”

“It would be so much easier if she just loved me.”

“Or if you just loved someone else.” Mary scrunches her nose at the thought. “Things could always be easier, but that doesn’t mean you’ll actually want the easier.”

“It’s not fair,” she grumbles. “She’s single now and I’m here! I’m right here. Still. I feel like I’m always here, waiting.”

“What are you in a rush for?”

“Happiness! Companionship! I don’t know, Remus, fucking love!”

“Why are you rushing that? It’ll come.”

“Make it come sooner,” she whines.

“I’m not a miracle worker,” he mumbles. “Listen, Mar, you’re hot and funny and nice and one day someone will be out of their mind for you, Emmeline or not. And it shouldn’t matter if it’s this year or next year or five years from now. You’ll meet them and they’ll be crazy for you and it’ll all be worth it.”

“Will it?”

“Yes,” he nods. “It will be. Because you’ll get your happiness and companionship and love and the heartache will only be a memory.”

She’s silent, her watery eyes locked on his. His fingers continue to toy with the hem of her pants. She sniffles before rubbing a rough hand over her face, a choked-out laugh as she wipes away a single tear. Remus reaches over and grabs her a tissue, wordlessly handing it to her.

“I blame my mother for this,” she sniffs.

“I’m sure you’re not alone in that sentiment,” he mumbles.

“Her and her endless supply of marriages,” Mary continues on. “A therapist would probably tell you it’s all her fault.”

“I’m not sure a licensed, decent therapist would say that, but if it makes you feel better, then sure.”

“It does make me feel better. I’ll blame it on her just like I blame her for my nose.”

“Yes, because your existential desire to be desired is very similar to your…nose.”

“Glad you understand,” she sighs. “I mean, God, the woman has a fucking monopoly on marriages. I don’t think there’s a single week of my twenty-nine years of life that she has been single.”

“What about that week during junior year when she had the flu?”

“Oh my God,” she laughs. “I forgot about that! Yeah, I guess that counts.”

“Can I cheer you up with some drama?” He asks.

“Absolutely you can.”

“So, a couple weeks ago I was with Benjy at the Pettigrew B&B just outside of town,” he stops and holds up his hand, “Shut it, I know. Anyway, Peter was working and I was saying hello and whatever, long story short, Barty Crouch and Evan Rosier are dating.”

“No!”

“Mhmm.”

“Stop! No! Oh my God, Remus, you better make this short story long, I need details! What happened to Luke? Evan is still wearing an engagement ring. I’m set to do their hair for the wedding! And since when is Barty into dudes? Isn’t he the guy who owns that sketchy strip club in Hogsmede?”

Remus starts explaining everything to Mary, down to how exactly Peter knew and how Remus convinced Peter, possibly the second friendliest and least problematic person in town, to tell Remus all the sordid and gossipy details. Mary gasps at all the proper times and occasionally interrupts to ask appropriate and furthering questions while Remus rambles on.

Somewhere in between explaining how Peter rented the Lovebirds suite to an alone Barty and how Evan showed up several hours later and didn’t rent a room, Remus orders an array of Chinese food to split between them. Mary disappears into his kitchen and rummages through his cupboards until she finds his wine, a single bottle that he hadn’t yet opened. She pours them both a glass, coffee mugs because Remus doesn’t own wine glasses.

“Okay,” Mary says as she tops off her glass of wine and steals an egg roll from Remus’ plate. “Evan left around 10AM, and Barty checked out the suite at 10:30?”

“Yup,” he says around a mouthful of crab rangoon.

“And Evan didn’t rent his own room?”

“That’s right.”

“Did anyone else check out that morning?”

“Nope.”

“Oh my God, they so totally are!” She squeals. “This is actual Earth-shattering news, Remus. I cannot believe you’ve known about this for weeks and didn’t tell me!” She reaches over and slaps his leg.

He bats her hand away before grabbing the bottle of wine and topping off his mug. “I was saving it. News like this only comes once in a century, Mar. I had to make sure I used it wisely.”

“Used it wisely?” She asks, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Probably the only thing in the whole world that can make you forget about your own problems is other people’s problems. Especially when it involves gay infidelity.”

“I do love gay infidelity,” she mumbles with a smile. “Thank you, Remus.”

“No problem, Mar,” he laughs as he grabs the last crab rangoon.

“Remus?”

“Hmm?”

“Em is my best friend, but you’re my family.”

“I love you too, Mary.”

She groans and covers her face with her hands. They finish their food and bottle of wine, Mary settling into his couch and controlling his TV remote. Despite her frequent complaints and moanings about Remus and Lily’s love for HGTV, Mary flicks through the channels until she reaches channel fifteen, Remus’ least favorite home renovators in the middle of destroying a beautiful brick red fireplace by painting it white.

They watch the episode in silence, Mary occasionally scoffing and huffing at something the renovators do. Remus can’t see her face, but he uses the movement of her shoulders to tell when she’s rolling her eyes. He counts to twenty before giving up.

Mary decides to stay the night, too late and too tired to want to walk back home. She crawls into his bead, steals his side, and whines about how the pillows aren’t firm enough. He scoffs as he crawls into bed next to her, pushing her arm away and mumbling about people always stealing his bed.

The room is dark and quiet, the only sound coming from his ceiling fan. Mary pushes a strand of hair out of his eyes and smiles softly at him.

“Remus,” she says quietly. “Why do you have a giant hickey on your neck?”

Chapter Text

Remus leaves his house ten minutes later than he was planning to. He accidentally put his left shoe on his right foot and had to sit down for five minutes to get over it. With his shoes now on the proper foot, he walks through the neighborhood to MarBean’s.

He decides to go at his usual time this morning, maturing overnight and deciding he will no longer be avoiding Sirius. Instead, he will be hoping and praying that he never runs into him ever again.

Which is very much not likely, but a man can dream.

And after his last two encounters with Sirius, dream he will. There’s now a very simple, undeniable, horribly terrible, and awkward tension between the two of them that Remus has no interest in exploring.

Except that he does.

Greatly.

He wants to explore it and cut it open and dig through it with his bare hands. He wants to biopsy it and put it under a microscope and send it to a lab that’ll mail him a pamphlet that says Here’s What's Wrong and How to Fix It.

He wants things to go back to the way they were. But he doesn’t want that at all, actually, he just wants the simplicity of knowing what to expect from their interactions. He used to walk into a situation with Sirius knowing exactly what to expect - little jabs here and there, snarky comments that he’ll replay in his head for the rest of the day, smooth and shiny hair that he’ll want to run his fingers through. But now?

They barely speak. And when they do, it’s all mumbling and stuttering and zero eye-contact and far too much blushing for two grown men. It’s unbearable and dramatic and Remus is already tired of it but he can’t bring himself to be the one to fix it.

So, he’ll hope and pray that it’ll go away on its own.

Like a mature man.

He brings his work bag to the cafe today, the beige walls of his office slowly closing in on him over the past week and driving him crazy. Amongst other things, but Remus' new philosophy is to not think about it so he’s not going to mention those.

His shoe mishap lands him at MarBean’s at peak hours, the line almost out the door and each table in the cafe already occupied by someone. He waits in line, hoping someone at one of the tables will leave while he waits for his drink, or else he’ll have to go back home and he really doesn’t want to be there right now.

He orders his iced mocha, Marlene somehow managing to be shorter than usual. Dorcas makes up for it by throwing in a free muffin, mentioning something about how their oven broke and all the muffins are too overdone to sell, so they’ve been handing them out for free instead. Remus picks up a chocolate muffin and his finished drink, sending a quick thanks to Dorcas before beginning his search for a place to sit.

Nobody left the cafe while he was waiting in line. He thinks more people may have even sat down. Four people are occupying every table, only one that’s seating a single person - some dickhead with his papers and pens scattered all over the table.

Remus weighs the options of sitting next to said dickhead or walking all the way back home, ultimately deciding he can’t be bothered to deal with some self-absorbed loser this early in the morning. He makes his way to the exit, weaving in between the line of people who are still waiting for their coffee.

“Remus!”

Remus turns on his heel to see the dickhead that’s taking up an entire table for himself looking toward him.

And Remus would recognize that smile anywhere.

He moves through the cafe, an odd feeling in his stomach as he repeats his steps to get back to the tables. He makes it to the dickheads table, half of his mind telling him to sit down and the other half telling him to run.

Sirius looks up at him with his cheeks flushed and a shy smile, his papers and notebooks spread all over.

“Hi,” Remus smiles awkwardly.

“Hi,” Sirius smiles back, running an awkward hand through his hair. “Do you want to sit?”

“Do I…do I want to sit?”

“At my table.”

“At your table?”

“Do you want to sit at my table?”

“Do I want to sit at your table?”

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”

“Hopefully not, no,” Remus huffs. “Why?”

“Why don’t I want you repeating everything I say? Pretty self-explanatory.”

“No, no. Why are you letting me sit at your table?”

“Well, the cafe is packed. And you looked like you needed a place to sit,” he gestures at the two empty chairs across from him, “And there’s an empty spot right there.”

“Oh.”

“You can say no.”

“Well, yes, I would hope so.”

Sirius blinks up at him and Remus counts to seven seconds before he pulls out a chair and sits down directly across from Sirius. Sirius scrambles to grab his papers, shoving them out of his way and making space for Remus to put his stuff down.

Remus takes out his laptop and powers it on, Sirius’ eyes set firm on the table, using his finger to idly draw patterns on the wood.

“How - ”

“Are - ”

They stare at each other. It’s horribly and unbearably awkward. Remus wants to light himself on fire.

“You go first,” Remus smiles, or at least tries very hard to.

“How, um,” Sirius clears his throat, “How have you been?”

“Oh, good. Fine. Great! Yeah,” Remus nods dumbly. He taps his finger against the dark cherry wood of the table. “Um…you?”

“Yeah, uh…good, too. Yeah. Perfect.”

Remus smiles, his teeth clenched and his heart pounding. Neither of them speak again. Remus catches Sirius sneaking glances at him sometimes, but it’s only because he’s stealing glances at Sirius.

Sirius gets a faint blush on his face every time Remus catches him, but he doesn’t stop looking. And Remus thinks he looks so pretty when he blushes so he can’t stop looking either. It’s a horrible, terrible, messy mix and Remus wants no part of it.

(Except that he does.) (Terribly.)

He’s stopped working multiple times to look toward Sirius and open his mouth ready to say something, anything, but his mind becomes a vast sea of nothingness. One would think he’s never actually had a thought before in his life. He’s not stupid, he’ll think of something to say and work up the courage to finally say it, but then he looks at Sirius and poof. He can’t think of anything.

‘Hey, I forgot to say it a couple days ago but thank you for the public restroom blow job. If you’re up for it, I would be happy to do it agai - ’

No, he definitely can’t say that.

‘Sorry I didn’t return your favor the other day. Do you want me to return it because I definitely can - ’

Can’t say that, either.

‘So, who taught you how to do that thing with your tongue?’

Probably shouldn’t say that either.

Remus sighs and tries to focus back on work, the typing on his keyboard falling in perfect sync with the sound of Sirius’ pen against his paper.

An unbearable amount of time passes before he clears his throat, “How is the library?”

Sirius looks up from his notebook, eyes wide in surprise, and blinks. “The library?”

“Yes,” Remus coughs into his fist. “The library. How is it?”

“It's fine.”

“That’s good,” he nods. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

More silence. Enough silence that Remus can hear his heartbeat through his ears. Somehow the busy chatter of the other patrons in MarBean’s isn’t even enough to dilute the silence - they may as well not even be there.

Sirius’ pen scrapes across his paper and tears a hole in the page. Remus watches Sirius stare at the tiny hole, his finger lightly tracing along it, his lips turned down into a, frankly, pathetic frown.

“I heard Marlene and Dorcas are planning to adopt,” Remus says.

“Mmm,” Sirius hums, his eyes still glued to his notebook. “They are.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yes.” Sirius nods, his eyes still not meeting Remus. “Yes, it is.”

“And Miss Martha’s daughter just gave birth. That’s her, what, fifteenth grandchild?”

“Sixteenth.”

“Ah, missed one. That’s super cool.”

“Yes.”

“I heard Caroline’s daughter is getting a divorce. Something about ‘no-good-bald-cheatin-five-foot-loser.’ Sounds like it’ll be messy.”

“S’pose it may.”

“This is kind of awkward, isn’t it?”

Sirius’ head snaps up, a small smile on his face. His eyes dart to the side before he clears his throat, “Yes, it kind of is.”

“You invited me to sit down.”

“Yeah, to sit down - not to yap the whole time.”

“Well…it was awkward.”

“It was so not awkward. Now it’s awkward.”

“It’s awkward because I’ve pointed out how awkward it is.”

“No, no. It was awkward way before that because you wouldn’t shut up.”

“Rude.”

“It’s truly no wonder Lily likes you so much. I’ve never met someone who gossips as much as her.”

“That was so not gossip.”

“Yes, it so was.”

“No, gossip would be me telling you that Bella - who lives in that old blue house on Rosmertta Street with those big beautiful rose bushes - is three months pregnant, but her husband has been overseas for work for five months. That’s gossip.”

“See, that’s what I - Bella’s pregnant?”

Remus peruses his lips and nods.

“Wow,” Sirius whispers. “And Danny is overseas…what a mess. Who’s the father, then?”

“Streets are saying it’s Dean’s.”

“No,” Sirius gasps, a hand to his heart. “Dean?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Wow…cheating on her husband with his best friend. That’d be like Lily sleeping with me.” Sirius’ face scrunches up in disgust and he shakes his head. “Or if you and I were married and you slept with James.”

Silence.

Sirius seems to quickly realize what he’s said, his face turning pale and his eyes widening. He looks back down at his notebook and frantically starts writing again, Remus watching as he draws scribbles all over the paper, the fresh ink staining the side of his hand.

“I saw Jillian Monroe at the library the other day,” Remus goes on, choosing to ignore Sirius’ comment for his own sanity. “No wedding ring.”

Sirius doesn’t look back up at him but he slows down his doodling, his pen just barely hovering above his sheet of paper. “No ring?”

“Uh-uh. No ring. And Charlie wasn’t with her for the children’s reading hour. I stopped by to speak with Miverva and saw her there, both kids and no Charlie.”

“And no ring.”

“And no ring. You know she loves that ring. Diamond big enough to sink the Titanic and a solid gold band. I used to always say she’d sell Charlie before she’d sell the ring.”

“Seems like maybe she has.”

“Well, maybe we’ll see at the next children’s reading hour. I have to speak with Minerva again and I’m thinking I’ll go Wednesday - I’ve got such a busy week that may be the only time I can go. Hate to go when all those children are running around, though.”

Sirius huffs and rolls his eyes, “Wednesdays are the worst - you should know this. We have a million children’s events on Wednesday.”

“I know,” Remus drops his head in his hands and groans. “It’s the only day that works for me. I’m so busy this week.”

“Oh, yes, such hard work you do sitting in your house and tapping on a keyboard.”

“Am I supposed to listen to you about hard work?” Remus trails his eyes down Sirius’ notebook, pointedly staring at the small flower doodle he had drawn.

Sirius blushes and looks away from him. “Everyone would be better off listening to me,” he mumbles.

“I’m sure they would,” Remus smiles.

They work in comfortable silence for another hour, occasionally making conversation about the weather or the coffee or who Remus saw at the post office buying money orders. Eventually, Remus’ back gets tired of the hard wooden chairs and he packs his things up and leaves, Sirius deciding to stay for one more coffee.

Remus walks home and finishes working, sending his last email at 3:59PM and logging off for the night. He winds up at the Potter’s for dinner, James making a giant batch of tandoori chicken and sending him home with a fresh loaf of bread and a container full of leftovers.

The rest of his week moves like normal, spending his weekend deweeding his garden, his tomato and pepper plants looking atrocious and near-dead. He thinks about giving up and ripping them out of the ground, but Lily gifted them to him when he first moved here and he doesn’t have the heart to throw away something so sentimental. (Lily checks his backyard every time she visits to make sure he’s properly caring for them.) (He’s not.)

He spends Sunday evening at the Potters again, listening to James rattle on about how Sirius is busy tonight because he’s on a date with another girl who’s trying to make her ex jealous and is going to Fabian’s afterward because, apparently, Sirius has something he urgently needed to discuss with Fabian. James reckons Sirius wants to make their relationship more serious, laughing as he makes his millionth serious ‘Sirius’ joke.

Remus drowns him out, occasionally nodding and humming when he feels it may be appropriate.

Wednesday finally comes around and Remus is dreading his trip to the library. Godric’s Hollow Library is a wonderful place for parents to bring their children and enjoy the playground, craft making, reading time, and terrorizing any adult who is there for business (Remus.)

Remus always tries to avoid days when he knows the library has events, Wednesday being the main one, with twice as many events compared to any other day of the week. But Remus is painfully busy and has no choice but to brave the terrors that lie ahead of him (children.)

He stops by Alice’s Bakery and picks up a donut for Minerva, and a dozen of Alice’s otherworldly chocolate chip cookies. For…someone. Someone who…volunteers at the library…and likes…chocolate chip cookies.

Okay, sue him.

***

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts: The Spotted Climbing Perch is able to absorb oxygen from the air and crawl over land using its strong pectoral fins in search of water.

Remus: pectoral.

***

The birds are chirping and the sun is shining, the air temperate and cool, a light and gentle breeze occasionally passing through. Big fluffy clouds adorn the sky and butterflies are bouncing from blooming flower to blooming flower. It’s a beautiful day.

Except for the screaming child.

Harry.

Harry is screaming bloody murder, probably getting pretty close to rupturing his vocal cords or Remus’ ear drums. All because Remus told him they could not, actually, bring the bumblebee that’s been buzzing around them for the past hour home. Harry had just sniffled at first, wiped away a lone tear from his cheek. But then the bumblebee came back and landed on his knee.

Remus has never heard such ferocious screams in his life.

“Harry,” he tries again, reaching a hand out to try and comfort the kid. “Harry, it’s okay. The bumblebee doesn’t even want to live indoors, he likes it outside.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say, Harry’s screams somehow growing stronger. Remus has to take a cautious step back as he starts swinging his limbs around in an impressive fit.

“Come on, Haz,” he says. “The bumblebee has flown away. He’s gone, okay? He needs to be free in the world.”

Sobs. Furious screaming, crying sobs. Remus is weighing the idea of just picking the child up and carrying him home, but he thinks the way Harry is flailing his limbs around will cause him to lose an eye or a tooth.

He should have never agreed to babysit.

So what if James and Lily feed him several times a day? Watching their child is far more work than cooking!

“Harry, Harry, please, dude. Come on, we’re being a bit ridiculous, don’t you think? You wanna go rock-watching again? We can go do more rock-watching, Haz!”

“NO!” Harry cries.

He ought to tire himself out at some point, right? All that screaming and crying will surely exhaust him, yeah? Remus just has to wait him out. He’ll scream himself to sleep and Remus will haul him home, tuck him into bed, pop five Advils, and tuck himself into bed.

“Okay, Harry, enough of the funny business. If this goes on for even five more seconds, I’m leaving. Okay, I’ll start counting. I’m going to count, Harry.”

Five seconds come and go and Harry is still violently sobbing.

“Okay, okay! Harry, please just, just…” Remus crouches down and reaches a careful hand out to pat his back, Harry looking up at him with wide, teary eyes and a red, snotty nose. “We can take the bumblebee home, okay? Okay, Haz, yeah, we’ll find the bumblebee and take him home.”

And Remus has finally got him, Harry using the back of his hand to wipe at his snotty nose and the tears on his cheek.

Only for a second.

And then Harry is back to screaming and wailing. Remus lets himself fall onto the grass to sit down next to him, resting his elbows against his knees and leaning his head into his hands. He feels about ready to join Harry and lie face down in the grass and start screaming and crying too.

“Is he okay?”

Remus glances up, ready to shoo away whoever is bothering him with a snarky ‘obviously not,’ but Sirius is standing above him, looking down at Harry with a concerned look on his face.

“Um,” Remus sighs. “No, he’s - no. Been crying like this for ages.”

Sirius squats down next to him, Remus averting his eyes away from the way the denim of his pants stretches out over his thighs. “Haz, what’s wrong? What’s wrong, buddy?”

Harry lifts his face off the grass, a few stray pieces stuck to his forehead and lip. He beams at the sight of Sirius, jumping up and running into his arms.

“Siwus!” He cries, Sirius wrapping his arms around him and running a soothing hand down his back. “Wemus said no!”

Harry nudges himself closer to Sirius, briefly lifts his head up and Remus can see the snot stain left on Sirius’ shirt. “Still haven’t gotten those r’s down, have you, bud? Tell me what he said no to, okay?”

“Bee!”

“Bee?”

“No bee!” Harry sniffs.

“Okay,” Sirius whispers as he rubs circles onto Harry’s back. He glances over to Remus with a smirk and a glint in his eye that Remus vaguely feels happy to see. “Wemus, you told Harry no bee?”

“Yes, Siwus.” Remus rolls his eyes. “I told Harry we could not bring a bumblebee home.”

“The poor tot wants a bumblebee.”

“Then go find the tot a bumblebee, I’m not bringing one home. Homes in the suburbs are not good places for bumblebees.”

“What’s a subub?” Harry mumbles, his face still pressed to Sirius’ chest.

“Don’t worry about it, dude,” Sirius says. He glances up toward Remus, “Maybe a bumblebee would like a home in the suburbs, you don’t know, Remus.”

“I do know, Sirius. Bees live outside, with flowers and pollen. They would not like to live indoors.”

“Look here, Harry, we have a certified bee whisperer in our midst.”

“Yes, Harry, and the bees are whispering ‘please don’t bring me inside!’”

“The bees are so not whispering that,” Sirius says mockingly.

“What do they whispa?”

“They whisper ‘take me home!’ ‘Harry, take me home!’”

“I’m the bee whisperer! Don’t listen to him, Harry. Listen to me, okay? Remember what your mom said? Yeah?”

Harry nods seriously, clearly trying his best to remember. “If Siwus and Wemus eva take cawe of you togetha, tell them to…kiss like…adults.”

Sirius’ eyes bulge, his jaw-dropping open like a fish. Remus’ face mirrors his, his eyes wide and face flushed. Harry stares up at them with a proud face, clearly waiting for either of them to tell him he did a good job.

“Your mother said what!?” Sirius asks firmly, his eyes clearly avoiding Remus’.

“If Siwus and Wemus ev - ”

“That’s okay, Harry!” Remus cuts him off. “That was great, thank you. Not what I meant, but still great. Thanks, yeah. Good. Very good.”

“Good?” Sirius yells. “Harry, you tell your mother to get her big nose out of my business, okay? Repeat that back to me, kid.”

Harry nods, squinting his eyes in concentration. “Siwus wants - ”

“Harry, do not finish that sentence. Sirius, grow up.”

Sirius gasps in affront before mumbling something about Remus growing up first. Remus leans down to get level with Harry and wipes away the pieces of grass still stuck to his face.

“Harry, can we go home now? Your mom and dad will be back in an hour and you can tell them all about the birds and the butterflies, in great and intricate detail, okay?” Harry nods excitedly, reaching out for Remus’ hands and starting to skip his way out of the park. “And maybe if you talk enough about all of the different rocks we saw today they’ll get you an ice cream cone! Wouldn’t that be great, Haz?”

Remus’ babysitting finishes an hour and a half later, Lily and James stumbling into the house tipsy and handsy. Remus hands Harry off to them with a quiet reminder to Harry to make sure he tells them all about the different rocks they saw this afternoon.

His phone dings with a message a moment after he’s left.

Lily: thx again for watching him

Lily: ur the best

Lily: loveeee youuuuuuuu

Lily: also bar! you me and jame jame, bar tomorrow night! say yes

He huffs out a laugh before responding.

Remus: fine.

Lily: whoooo!!!!

Lily: lil and rem and jam bar time!

Lily: hey why does my kid keep telling me all abt the different rocks he saw today?

Remus chooses not to respond, instead pocketing his phone and making his way across the street to his house. A person is sitting on his front porch, someone tall and familiar. A motorcycle is parked in his driveway, the helmet Remus once wore hanging off the handlebar. Remus feels the familiar twist of his stomach and wipes the sweat off his palms as he walks up his driveway.

“Taken to trespassing, have you?”

Sirius’ head jerks up, locks eyes with him. The dim sky makes the blush on his cheeks barely visible, but it has nothing on the full attention that Remus is looking at him with.

“I, um.” Sirius adjusts the bottom of his shirt, a nervous habit that feels so out of place. “I wanted to see how Harry was.”

“Then go across the street and ask…” Remus smiles.

“Right,” Sirius nods. “Right. I could do that.”

“What do you actually want, Sirius?”

Remus watches Sirius’ Adam’s apple travel down his throat, a far-off look on his face as he stares out at Remus' magnolia tree. He really should ask Caroline why it hasn’t bloomed yet this year - maybe he should fertilize it or prune it or something.

“I, um, well…” Sirius trails off, finally turning his head to lock eyes with Remus. He takes a step closer, only a couple of feet separating them now. “I don’t really know.”

“You don’t know?”

“…No”

“I think you do,” Remus smirks, another step toward Sirius.

Sirius scoffs, a shake of his head that sends a piece of hair over his face. “You can read my mind, huh? What makes you think you know what I want?”

“I think you know what you want.”

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Sirius glances away again, a brief look over at the Potter's house before facing Remus again. “You don’t know what I want.”

“I don’t?”

“No.”

“Then why are you on my porch?”

“I got lost.”

“You got lost?”

“Yes, I was looking for the stuck-up bitch museum - oh, wait.”

“No, I think that’s about five streets down, four houses over. The biggest house in town.”

“You’re very mocking, you know?”

“You’re the one standing on my front porch.” Remus takes another step toward him, closing the space to only a couple of inches. “What is it that you want, Sirius?”

“I want you to stop pissing me off,” Sirius mumbles down to his shoes. Remus closes the space between him and reaches out to tilt his head up to face him. Sirius glances up at him cautiously, a faint, if not nervous, smile on his face.

“I don’t think that’s what you want at all.”

“…No.”

Remus pushes him up against the wall in the blink of an eye, presses his lips against Sirius’, and revels in the feel of his hot, open mouth. His tongue meets Sirius’ in a wet and sloppy kiss that has his knees shaking and palms sweaty. He bites down on Sirius’ bottom lip, a gentle tug and lick, moaning at the sensation of Sirius’ hot, panty breaths.

Rough hands travel down Sirius’ sides until they reach the front of his pants. Remus palms Sirius through his jeans, feeling his cock already hard and straining. There’s a loud and breathy moan against his open mouth and - dear God be with him. He keeps his hand on Sirius’ lower half, Sirius pushing up against him with a groan. Remus has half a mind to take him right here, his neighbors be damned, but he doesn’t.

He peels himself away with one final messy kiss, too much tongue and too much teeth, before roughly grabbing Sirius by the hand and dragging him towards his house. Sirius giggles, looking up at Remus with heavy-lidded eyes that make his whole body feel on fire.

Sirius is on him the moment he unlocks his front door, his hands roaming Remus’ body and his mouth leaving hot kisses over Remus’ neck. The memory of his just faded hickey plagues his mind and for a second he thinks he should tell Sirius not to leave any marks, but his mouth is too busy and Sirius’ dick is hard and pressed against his hip and he can’t be bothered.

“Nice place,” Sirius mumbles, his lips a little too busy sucking a spot into Remus’ neck. “Show me the bedroom?”

Remus twists them so Sirius is the one pinned against the wall, a leg sliding in between his thighs. Sirius drops his head back against the wall with a thud. He twirls a piece of Sirius’ hair around his finger, leaning in close to him kiss under his ear.

“Eager?” Remus whispers. He rubs his palm over the hard line of Sirius’ cock, Sirius gasping out a moan and bucking into his hand before Remus has the chance to move away. He busies his fingers with the buttons of Sirius’ shirt, spending far too long kissing and licking his way around both of Sirius’ collarbones.

“My favor was never returned,” Sirius breathes, his eyes wide and pupils blown. Remus slides his thigh further in between Sirius’ legs, his mind insane with the press of his cock hard and straining against his jeans.

“Is that what you want?”

Sirius nods frantically, his fingers leaving their spots on Remus’ back to work on the button of his own pants. Remus swats his hand away and takes over, slowly undoing them while keeping his eyes set on Sirius. He takes his time, smiling when Sirius squirms at the sound of his loud zipper in the quiet hallway. He brushes his fingers above the small expanse of skin above the waistband of his pants, a touch so light it almost doesn’t register.

“Remus, for God’s sake,” Sirius grumbles, trying to push Remus’ hands out of the way. Remus grabs him by both of his wrists and uses one hand to hold them up on the wall above his head. He smirks, Sirius pouting with a huff as he tries to buck his hips up.

“Tell me what you want, Sirius.”

“You know what I fucking want.”

“Do I?”

“Unless your memory is ass or it was the worst fucking blowjob of your life.”

“Not the worst,” Remus smiles at him as he slowly drops to kneel on the ground. He pulls Sirius’ pants down slowly, looking up at Sirius the whole time. Sirius bites down on his lip, his breath turning shaky as Remus begins to mouth at the hard line of his cock, thick and straining against his boxers. Sirius groans above him, his head leaning against the wall and his hands clenched at his side. Remus pulls down his boxers next, with the same slow and gentle way he removed his pants. Sirius huffs, so dramatic and so lovely. He kisses his way up his inner thigh, before pausing and glancing up at Sirius. “But not the best.”

Remus takes his cock in his mouth a second later, Sirius’ rebuttal dying on his tongue as he throws his head back and swears.

“You better…be…lying,” he pants. He digs his fingers into Remus’ hair, a gentle tug that causes Remus to moan around him. Remus is, of course, lying, but he won’t be telling Sirius that. At least not right now with his mouth occupied.

He swirls his tongue and hollows his cheeks, feeling the tip of Sirius’ cock brush against the back of his throat. Sirius is sweaty and loud above him, one hand clenched in Remus’ hair and the other clenched at his side. Remus takes a minute to tease the tip of his cock, relishing in the constant stream of moans and swears flowing out of Sirius’ mouth.

His hands wrap around Sirius’ bare hips, a tight grip that he distantly hopes leaves a bruise. He moves his hands all over his body, desperate to touch. His grip moves from his hips to his thighs to, finally, his ass. Remus reaches his arm up to bring his fingers to Sirius’ mouth, pleased when Sirius understands instantly and swirls his tongue around Remus’ fingers.

Sirius sucks and moans around his fingers, his head thrown back and eyes closed. Remus’ cock starts to twitch in his pants.

He gently circles his wet finger around Sirius’ hole, the breathy moans above him spurring him on to push just the tip of his finger inside him. Sirius groans, his legs wobbling and his fingers gripping tighter in Remus’ hair. He slides down the wall to spread his legs further apart and Remus can only watch his face as he pushes his finger into the knuckle. Sirius squirms at the feeling, already clenching and squeezing around Remus’ finger.

Remus loses track of time as he sucks Sirius’ cock while slowly fucking a single finger in and out of his hole, too lost in the sounds of Sirius quickly turning to begging and pleading. He’s seemingly lost control of his own hips, accidentally shoving his cock far down Remus’ throat and cutting off his apology with a breathy moan.

“Remus,” he groans. “You fucking bastard, just - just, please. God, I can’t.”

Remus pulls off his cock with a wet pop, his finger still working in and out of his hole. He lightly sucks at the tip of his cock before glancing up at Sirius. “Can’t what, Sirius?”

“Two fingers, Remus. Two, fucking Hell, stretching me to the goddamn moon, just - just, fuck. I need more.”

“More?”

“This is me asking nicely, you fucking insane fucking bastard.”

“I didn’t hear a please,” he says as he twists his finger purposefully, Sirius suddenly gasping and pushing his hips down.

“Remus, fuck,” he swears. He looks down at Remus, his eyes wide and desperate. “Please.”

“That was very nice, Sirius.” Remus ignores the grumbled complaint, his mouth resuming its position around Sirius' cock and his finger slowly pushing back into Sirius’ hole. He slips in a second finger, instantly finding and pressing against Sirius’ prostate.

“Fuck,” Sirius yells. “God, do that again and I’m gonna come.”

Remus does it again. Relishes in the feeling of him stretching around two of his fingers, his own cock throbbing and leaking in his pants. He crooks his fingers again, slowly moving them in and out of Sirius’ hole while brushing against the spot that makes Sirius the breathy mess he likes so much. He swirls his tongue around Sirius’ cock and takes it as far back in his throat as he can.

Sirius is moaning incoherent gasps above him, his hips unable to decide if they should push against Remus’ mouth or fingers.

It only takes one more hard thrust and Sirius comes down his throat with a loud moan. Sirius works to catch his breath, his chest heaving and his skin glistening with sweat. Remus works him through, his fingers still slowly fucking him, before pulls off of his cock. Sirius lets out a gasped groan that goes straight to Remus’ hard and leaking dick.

Sirius helps him off the floor, his hands unable to decide if they want to hold Remus’ waist or run all over his body. Remus keeps him pressed against the wall, fingers resting low on Sirius’ bare hips as his mouth works its way up his neck.

“I thought I asked to see the bedroom,” Sirius says breathlessly, his fingers starting to toy with the waistband of Remus’ pants. “It appears I’m still in a hallway.”

Remus kisses him, too much tongue and teeth, before taking him to his bedroom.

Chapter Text

Remus uses his fingertip to poke at the suspicious-looking cake. He carefully sniffs it, ensuring there's a good couple of inches between his precious nose and the mystery, supposedly ‘edible,’ cake.

“Mary?” He calls out.

“What?” She yells back.

“You want me to eat this?” He pokes at a suspicious shape in the cake, a strawberry or a peanut or a spot of mold. The spot jiggles and Remus thinks he’s about to be poisoned. “Mary, it’s moving.”

“Shut up, Remus!” She yells from her room. He hears the thud of her shoes and the slam of her closet door. A minute later Mary joins him in the kitchen in her fluffy pink robe and matching fluffy pink slippers. “What are you whining about?”

“The cake moves.”

“The cake doesn’t move,” she scoffs. She lifts the tin and gives it a shake, the cake wiggling and jiggling in the pan. “It’s just moist.”

“It’s raw.”

“It’s not raw.”

“And what are these?” Remus asks as he pokes the suspicious shape again. He overestimates his strength and pulls his finger back with blue goop dripping off it. “Ew.”

“It’s a blueberry,” Mary grumbles.

“I would not have guessed that.”

“Probably because you’ve never seen a blueberry before.” She moves around her kitchen to her oven and turns it on before throwing the cake back in. She shrugs, “There. Won’t be raw anymore.”

“I don’t think you can do that.”

“Why not? It’ll still get cooked.”

“I don’t know, can’t you get, like, MRSA or something from the raw eggs?”

“No, you idiot, that’s syphilis. Besides, they’re not raw - I’m cooking them.”

“You’re a terrible chef.”

“I’m baking!”

“Fine, you’re a terrible baker.”

“I am a terrible baker,” she sighs. “Fuck it, I’ll get something from Weasley’s and put it in my cake tin.”

Remus digs around her fridge and pulls out a half-empty bottle of wine - some disgusting red stuff, but it’s all she has so it’ll have to do. “What’s the cake for?”

“Uh…” she says distractedly as she pulls the cake back out of the oven and throws the whole thing in the garbage. “It’s uh, for…for, uh, Emmeline’s birthday.”

The last part is whispered, but Remus hears her nevertheless. He watches as she starts awkwardly fiddling with things in her kitchen - organizing her utensils, opening random cupboards just to close them, folding and recording her hand towels.

“God, would you just say something?” She snaps after a minute of silence. “Get off your high horse already. Speak!”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything!”

“I think this is a bad idea.”

“Not that.”

“I think you need to give her some space.”

“No, something else.”

“I think she just got out of an engagement and needs time.”

“I think you need to stop thinking.”

“You wanted me to say something!”

“Well, all of those things sucked!”

“That’s not my fault!”

Mary grabs the bottle of wine out of his hand and shuffles in her slippers until she reaches her living room. She drops down with a thud and brings the bottle to her lips. Remus joins her, stealing the bottle when she’s done.

“I’m miserable.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“I think I’m unlovable.”

“Mary, hun, I'm gonna be honest with you. I am not drunk enough to have this conversation.”

Mary lifts her head up at him and smiles. She digs around her couch cushions to find her phone and starts slowly typing something. She throws her phone aside and laughs, “Fabian owes me a favor.”

An hour and a half later and they’re both drunk. Remus is sitting upside down on Mary’s pink velvet couch, blood rushing to his head as he counts the dust bunnies under her coffee table. Mary is lying across his stomach, her bony elbows occasionally jabbing into his ribs.

Her fingers are light and ticklish as she draws shapes against Remus’ ankles, occasionally pausing to rip a hair out. Remus yelps in pain each time, but Mary just does it again a minute later.

They’ve discussed everything under the sun, from Mary’s new favorite TV show to Remus’ distrust of online libraries. Eventually, Mary digs into the brown paper bag Fabian dropped off and pulls out a bottle of Don Julio. She sniffles as she uses a hefty hand to pour both of them shots.

“Why are you crying now?” He asks before the familiar feeling of tequila burns his throat.

“This is Emmeline's favorite drink,” she sniffs.

Remus pours himself another hefty shot. “You wanna go out with me, Lily, and James tomorrow night? We can make bets for how many drinks it’ll take before James starts getting handsy under the table?”

“We both know it’ll only take three. No, I need to mourn,” Mary sniffs.

“What are you mourning, exactly?” He asks, trying his best not to laugh at his friend's misery.

“My love life.”

“You’re hardly a day over sixty-two, your love life isn’t even close to over. You have plenty of time to find someone.”

“I’ll kill you, you know? Sixty-two,” she scoffs. “I’m extremely offended. My mother isn’t even sixty-two.”

“Immaculate conception,” he whispers.

Mary reaches behind her to grab a pillow and throws it at his head, “I’m gonna immaculate you!”

“Woah, Mary, you’re a lovely lady, but I’m not interested in - ”

She throws another pillow at his head and yells profanities about being beautiful and youthful and vibrant and young. Remus catches one of the pillows she throws and uses it as protection as she tries to pelt him with popcorn.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. “You’ve made your point.”

“Damn right I have. I’ll sue you. Slander, or something.”

“I think that’s libel. Which one is printed?”

“That’s libel. Or slander. I don’t know.”

“Great.”

Mary sighs and throws her feet up on her coffee table, her fluffy pink slippers littering tiny spots of pink fluff all over her floor. “I’m going to be okay, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’ll get over it, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t be single forever?”

“Well…”

“Remus!”

“I can’t see the future, Mary!”

“God, if I’m forty and still single, I think I’ll shave my head and become a nun.”

“Why do you need to shave your head to become a nun?”

“It just feels right. I’ll be bald and celibate.”

“You wouldn’t last a day of celibacy,” he laughs. “I shared an apartment with you in college.”

“I was a different girl back then,” she shrugs. “I’ll be a good celibate nun.”

“Yeah, and I’ll run a five-star Michelin restaurant.”

“Do they even give five Michelin stars? I feel like it stops at three.”

“Do you really think I know the answer to that?”

“How do you get a Michelin star? Is there a lesser star? Like a…less-lin star?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me these things.”

“Where’s the closest Michelin-star restaurant, Remus? I want to go to one before I become a nun. Can nuns eat at Michelin-star restaurants?”

“I would imagine so. Hey, do nuns have to cook or do they just pray?”

“I think they just pray. Oh my gosh, Remus, do nuns have to cook? Can I even be a nun? I can’t cook! Or clean. I thought I’d just have to be celibate and pray!”

“Maybe you do,” he shrugs. “I don’t think nuns cook. But they can’t just spend their whole day praying…”

“Maybe I can be the nuns' personal hairdresser. Nuns need hairdressers, right?”

“Probably not.”

“Why not?”

“Well, they have the…the hat thing.”

“It’s definitely not called that.”

“And it’s probably ungodly, or something. Sinful.”

“To get your hair dyed?”

“Mary, it’s sinful to mix certain fabrics. I think hair bleaching is probably a no-no for the nuns.”

“It’s sinful to mix fabrics?”

“You’ll need to learn your sins before you become a nun.”

“You’re right. Is there a class?”

“Yes, I think they call it church.”

“Don’t make me go to church, Remus!”

“What do you think nuns do?” He asks with a laugh.

“I don’t know! I thought they just walked around in their nun outfits and prayed!”

“I think that is what they do.”

“Have you ever met a nun?”

“Uh, no.”

“Maybe I can shadow one. See if it’s something I actually want to do, you know?”

“I definitely don’t think that's a thing.”

“Why not?” She pouts.

“You’re probably just supposed to know that you want to be a nun.”

“But I don’t know.”

“So you’re probably not supposed to be a nun.”

“Maybe I can do it part-time. Test it out, you know? Then if I don’t like it, I’ll quit.”

“I think nun-hood is sort of an all-or-nothing type of affair.”

“Remember that part-time job I had in college?”

“At the fish store?”

“Yeah! Remember when I broke that tank and all those goldfish went flopping around the store?”

“How could I forget?”

“Do you think that’ll keep me from nun-hood? That was basically murder.”

“Manslaughter.”

“Maybe if I confess my sins. I can do that, right?”

“Yeah, if the priest has five hours to sit there and listen to you.”

“I don’t have that many sins!”

“Mary, hun, I hate to break this to you…”

“Shut up! You have just as many sins!”

“But I’m not trying to be a nun.”

“Well no. You’re not a lady. Are there only women nuns? Oh my God, feminist movement!”

“I think the guy nuns are called priests.”

“No, there’s totally lady priests.”

“Then what are the guy nuns?”

“There are none. Haha. None. Nun.”

“The nuns will love you, Mary. I wish you well in this future endeavor. Send me a postcard from the convent.”

“What’s a convent?”

“Where the nuns live.”

“I have to live with them!? I can’t go home? What if I want to be a stay-at-home-nun?”

“You can’t.”

“Well, shit. That wasn’t part of my plan, Remus.”

“Adjust?”

“Maybe I’ll get a sexy roommate nun.”

“Yeah, if you’re into eighty-year-olds.”

“What if they take away my curl products? I can’t live without my curl-creams, Remus.”

“Nobody’s taking your curl-creams.”

“God is!”

“You’re not a nun.”

“I will.”

“You won’t.”

“I won’t,” she sighs. “I’d be the worst nun.”

“You would be. You’d find some other nun to sleep with by the first night.”

“I would,” she groans. “I can’t be a nun. I guess I have to get married by forty.”

“Since when did turning forty mean you only have two options: marriage or nun-hood?”

“What about the Amish? Do you think I could be Amish, Remus?”

***

Lily: pregame ? yes

Lily: say yes bc i’m outside ur door

Lily: remus i know you’re in there

Lily: i can hear you

Lily: let me in!!!

Lily: remusssss

Lily: i hear your sad indie music i know you’re in there

Lily: i brought my cat

Remus opens the door with a sigh, instantly reaching out to grab Allan from Lily’s arms. The cat purrs as he nestles close to his chest while Remus turns to leave Lily waiting at the open door.

“Hello to you too,” she says as she walks in and slams the door shut. She sets a full bottle of vodka on his coffee table and plops down next to him on the couch. “I’m realizing now that the odds of you having something to mix this with are incredibly low.”

Remus blinks at her. “I have a moldy cucumber.”

“Yum,” she mumbles. “I’m not doing straight shots of vodka.”

“So, we’re pregaming with nothing?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” she slumps back on the couch, her head tilted up to the ceiling. “Getting old sucks.”

“You’re twenty-eight.”

“Practically a foot in the grave, let me tell you.”

“And you say Sirius is dramatic,” he mumbles. She reaches a hand over to swat him, a loud smack against his thigh that echoes throughout the living room.

“Speaking of…” she trails off, a cautious look on her face, “James invited Sirius to drinks.”

“Oh,” Remus says, willing his face to not flush at the memory of what took place on his couch the other night, about four inches to the left of where Lily is sitting. “That’s…that’s fine.”

“That’s fine?” She raises her eyebrows, her eyes wide in surprise. “I meant Sirius, as in Sirius Black.”

“Yes, Lily,” he laughs. “I know who you meant. Also, I think he may be the only person in the world with that name, so there’s no need to clarify.”

“I was expecting an argument. James has already special ordered that chocolate you like so he can make you an apology chocolate cake, and you say it’s fine?”

“Would you like me to argue?”

“Not really, no.”

“Great.”

A couple seconds of silence pass, both of them staring at each other. Lily breaks first, a dramatic sigh, “I just don’t quite understand because you guys are - ”

“He’s James’ best friend.”

“And you’re mine,” she says instantly.

He smiles, “So, I think it’s best if we just get along.”

“That’s very…mature. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“I am expected to believe that you have suddenly matured overnight? The same man that only three weeks ago signed Sirius up to join the Jehovah's Witnesses?”

Remus laughs back at the memory, mentally giving himself a clap on the back for that one. His laughter stops abruptly when he notices Lily’s stern expression. Clears his throat. “Stranger things have been known to be true.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Tell James he can still make me that cake.”

She barks out a harsh laugh, “Absolutely not.”

“Hey, I deserve it!”

“For what!?”

“Watching Harry the other day!”

“Oh, please! That little bundle of joy? He’s hardly something you even need to watch,” Lily waves a dismissive hand.

“Except when you’re at the grocery store, or the park, or the movies, or the cafe, or the library, or in the car, or in the house.”

“So he likes to run! Big deal. He’ll be a track star, you know.”

Remus rolls his eyes and laughs, almost certain that Harry will be a track star - and a damn good one at that. He probably ran more that single afternoon watching him than he has in his entire life. He had knee pain the next day - and not the good kind.

“Oh, hey, speaking of Harry,” he sits up on the couch and faces her, “He said something funny while I was babysitting him.”

Lily’s hands stop from where they were twisting in his blanket, a brief glance up to look at him before she’s back to messing with it. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Well, you know kids - always saying the darndest stuff,” she mumbles.

“He said that you told him if Sirius and I were to ever babysit him together, he should tell us to…what was it, again? ‘Adult up and kiss?’” Remus raises his eyebrow expectantly and watches Lily as she keeps her eyes locked on her own hands twisting in the blanket.

“Did he really?”

“He sure did.”

“You know…” she laughs, a fake thing that’s harsh on his ears. “You know what I actually told him? Silly boy, can never get those r’s right. I told him you guys should adult up and… currr….l.”

“Adult up and curl?”

“Mmhmm.”

“That doesn’t even - ”

Her phone dings with a message, Lily mumbling something under her breath as she quickly tries to grab it from her pocket. She glances at the screen before looking back up at Remus, “Time to go. The boys are ready.”

“We were waiting for them?” Remus says, dropping the previous conversation, evidently not actually caring that much outside of making Lily uncomfortable and bringing out that specific twitch of her right eye.

“Yeah, Sirius was doing his hair.”

“And James was needed for that?”

“Oh, yes. Ideally, he would have me help too. Pretentious dick.”

“Okay,” he says with a huff as he gets up from his couch. “Should I tell him it looks bad when we see him?”

“He’d probably behead you,” she says with a giggle. “And James might actually help him because, really, he does most of the work.”

“Pretentious dick, indeed.”

She nods distantly as she struggles to put her shoes back on her feet. “One sec,” she mumbles as she jumps up and runs out of the living room.

“What are you doing?” He yells as he slips his shoes on.

“Remus,” she yells back from the kitchen. He hears the slamming of a drawer and the sound of the refrigerator shutting, “This is a fucking zucchini!”

***

Fabian slides Remus’ drink across the bar with a small frown, his eyes narrow and firm. Remus quietly thanks him and drops a dollar bill in the tip jar, quick to leave to go back to the table they’re sitting at.

James and Lily are pressed close together, James’ arm slung loosely over Lily’s shoulder and Lily’s leg wrapped around James’ under the table. James is five beers in and Remus is starting to recognize the glint in his eyes when he glances at Lily - the one that says ‘take me home now.’ Lily has been occasionally returning the glances - the one that says ‘when I’m ready.’

Remus is giving it another five minutes before they’re either making out at the table or fucking in the bathroom.

Remus has been feeling a little like an awkward third wheel the whole night, except that Sirius is here as well so really he should feel like an awkward fourth wheel. But Sirius has barely been over, instead floating around the bar chatting and dancing with different people. Which Remus doesn’t mind, of course. Because that would just be crazy.

Fabian clearly seems to mind, a frustrated look plaguing his face ever since they walked in that only seems to have grown every time Remus walks up to the bar to order a drink. He gets it, of course, from a neutral point of view. Fabian and Sirius have a thing between them, or something, and here Sirius is dancing and chatting with people. Remus understands, from an outsider's perspective.

He had overheard the conversation between them when they had all gone up to the bar to order their first round. Stilted hello’s and how are you’s that were far too formal for people who were supposedly sleeping together. James and Sirius had a private whispered conversation afterward, one that Remus could tell by James’ over-enthusiastic smile and hand gestures was a pep-talk of sorts.

Sirius has been dancing and flirting ever since, hardly sparing Fabian a second glance, the poor fool.

Of course, Fabian is the poor fool and not Remus.

Because Remus doesn’t mind.

Two hookups do not make a relationship!

He does sort of wish he could stop staring at him and watching him dance from girl to guy to girl. And he definitely wishes Sirius would stop looking at him and catching him staring. It makes it unbearably awkward on Remus’ end of things.

Remus tries to dance with someone. It’s terribly awkward and she’s short and keeps trying to kiss him.

But he dances with her because Sirius keeps bumping into him on the dance floor and his eyes grow darker and darker each time they run into each other. Eventually, the girl leaves, saying she isn’t interested in threesomes or being used to make his boyfriend jealous.

Remus blushes something wicked.

He wasn’t trying to make Sirius jealous.

He doesn’t even care about Sirius being jealous. Why would he want Sirius to be jealous? Sirius is dancing with other people. Remus can dance with people. And so can Sirius.

And maybe Sirius isn’t jealous at all. Maybe he doesn’t even care. In fact, he’s probably happy that he gets to dance with other people and he’ll laugh in Remus’ face because now he’s sweaty and overwhelmed because of his own stupid brain.

Oh, Sirius isn’t jealous at all!

Not that Remus wants him to be jealous. Why would he want to make Sirius jealous? Sirius has a Fabian. And Remus has Lily’s cat.

Not that Remus cares about Sirius’ Fabian. Sirius can have a Fabian all he wants. Because Remus doesn’t care. And Sirius probably doesn’t care that Remus doesn’t care. Sirius can have his Fabian and his new, young, handsome dance partner all he wants. Remus doesn’t care.

He only wants to make him jealous because of the little unspoken thing that they have going on between them.

The little thing called hatred.

He has Lily’s cat.

And Sirius should be focusing on his dance partner, not locking eyes with Remus, that knowing smile on his face that taunts Remus and his stalkerish gaze.

It’s all terribly unfortunate. Remus heads back to the table, far too sweaty and overwhelmed and unable to sort through his own thoughts.

“Remus, babe,” Lily laughs, snapping her fingers to get his attention. Remus tears his eyes away, pretending like he really doesn’t mind the girl currently grinding up against Sirius. “Are you up for it?”

Remus pushes away the thought that he certainly is up for it - it being him grinding up against Sirius - assumes Lily is probably not thinking the same thing as him. “Uh, up for what?”

“Another run with James,” she gestures to James with her head, his elbows resting on the table and his eyes locked lovingly on his wife. Lily runs a sloppy hand through his hair, James leaning into the touch with a sigh.

“Fuck no,” he laughs. “I couldn’t walk for two days and had thigh pain for five. I’m never doing that again.”

“We only did ten miles!” James says defensively.

“James, that’s ten more miles than I’ve run in my entire life.”

James pouts, a hilarious, if not, very real downturn of his lips. Lily runs her hand through his hair again, her other one leaving the table and disappearing somewhere Remus can no longer see. She leans her head up to whisper in his ear and Remus pointedly looks away. His eyes instantly find Sirius, magnetic, in a sense. It’s a ridiculous act that he hates his brain for. Sirius is dancing with someone new, a tall guy with brown hair and an ugly sweater.

“Remus,” Lily giggles, struggling to get off her stool thanks to James’ wandering hands. “Remus, hun, we’re…” she giggles again, James standing behind her with his hands wrapped around her waist, swaying them from side to side, “Yeah, we’re heading out.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles. “Go be horny and in love.”

“Wasn’t asking permission,” she smirks as she grabs her purse off the table and waves goodbye. Remus watches them leave, James pinching her sides as Lily laughs and shoves him away. He sighs, swirls the ice in his drink, and decides he deserves another.

Another frustrated frown from a forlorn Fabian and Remus gets his gin and tonic and takes it back to the table, deciding it’ll be his last one before going home.

He grimaces when he takes a sip and realizes there’s a lime. He hates limes. He asked for no lime - he always asks for no lime. With a sigh he digs it out of the glass, his fingers freezing from the ice. The faint flavor ruins his drink, a hint of lime still lingering. He sighs something dramatic and stares at the stupid lime that’s drenching his napkin.

“Here.”

Sirius slides a glass toward him, clear liquid on ice in a glass incredibly similar to the one Remus currently has. Remus picks it up and sniffs it.

“Gin and tonic,” Sirius says. “With no lime.”

“Thank you.” Remus can’t help but stare, Sirius’ cheeks flushed and hair messy from dancing. “Appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well,” Sirius shrugs. He passes his drink, a beer bottle, to his other hand. Remus tries his best to not let his eyes linger on Sirius, clad in a pair of dark jeans that fit around his thighs just wonderfully. “James and Lily head out?”

Remus glances at the seats they were sitting in, their empty glasses and James’ coat and Lily’s purse missing. He smiles, “Observant, you.”

Sirius laughs, a soft thing that feels unnatural on Remus’ ears but so natural on Sirius’ mouth. “Alright, was a stupid question.”

“I’m used to those from you.”

“Hey!” Sirius laughs, this time loud and giddy. “I so ask appropriate questions.”

“When?”

“Well,” he scoffs. “You can’t just put me on the spot like that.”

“I guess that’s fair…” he mumbles.

Sirius grins, the brightest thing in the room. “Have you, Remus Lupin, finally admitted to being wrong about something in regards to I, Sirius Black?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Admit it! You’ve said it, you did!”

“I said no such thing.”

“You most certainly have! It’s on video! I’m taking this to the grave, let me tell you. I’m going to have to get Fabian to…” Sirius trails off, a quick glance at the direction of the bar.

“Lovers quarrel?” He asks, with no snark, of course.

“No,” Sirius answers hastily. “No, nothing like that. We’re just friends.”

Remus nods, takes a big sip of his drink, and wipes the condensation from the glass on his pants. Sirius sets his beer bottle on the table and slides onto the stool across from him, his fingers tapping repeatedly against the table.

A moment of silence passes between them, Remus distantly wondering why the Hell he’s decided to sit down now, of all times. Not during the two hours when Lily and James were here to help navigate the awkward silences and stilted conversations.

Does Sirius consider Remus to be someone he’s just friends with? Is Remus even someone he considers a friend?

“How’s Benjy?” Sirius asks suddenly.

“Benjy?” Remus raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Uh, fine? I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Haven’t spoken to him in…weeks, I think.”

“Oh,” Sirius mumbles, the tapping of his fingers on the table pausing as he sips his beer. Remus watches his long, pale fingers wrap around the bottle. He resists the urge to reach out, intertwine their fingers together and drag Sirius to his house.

“I went to the library on Wednesday,” he says instead.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mmhm.”

“I didn’t see you there,” Sirius says.

“Yeah, it was real brief. Minerva happened to be free all day since the crafting event was canceled. Something about an emergent glue situation?”

Sirius blushes, barely visible in the dim light of the bar. “Well, it was a right mess.”

“I think it must have been.”

“You know, glue. All sticky…and, and messy.”

Remus hums and takes another sip of his drink. He glances away for a moment, catching Fabian’s eye as he stares at Remus with a deep frown. He looks away quickly, focusing his attention back on Sirius.

“I think there was an issue with children’s reading hour as well. It got pushed back a couple of hours.”

“It was quite the glue situation.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Minerva was very appreciative of you bringing her donuts. She talked about it the rest of the week, you know,” Sirius smiles.

“Just Minerva?” He raises an eyebrow.

“The…the chocolate chip cookies were enjoyed.”

“By?”

“By many. I’m a fan of socialism, Remus.”

“They were your cookies, Sirius.”

“Yes, and I ate them all, okay? Call me a communist, God! Can’t a guy enjoy some chocolate chip cookies? Always turning things into an issue, Remus.”

“I got you the cookies! I have no issue with you eating something I bought you.”

“Oh, so next you’re going to buy me bleach, huh? You can just say you don’t like me, Remus.”

“…What?”

“Here I thought we were having a nice, friendly conversation and now you want to kill me.”

“I don’t - I…what?”

“I thought the coconut thing was funny, to be honest, and I only have a mild allergy to coconut so I took the attempt at murder in jest, but this, Remus? It’s just ridiculous.”

“I really don’t - ”

“I helped you out by feigning some fake glue emergency and now you want to kill me.”

“I feel like you’re really being over dramatic.”

“And I bought you that coffee, which was just…okay, it was right after we…and I kind of, well, so, anyway. But it was a nice thing for me to do and now I’m about to be assassinated.”

“I’m so confused,” Remus mumbles.

“And I appreciated the cookies. That was nice of you to do. And the, um, yesterday, after you were done babysitting Harry, that was, yeah. So…”

“Are you having a stroke?”

Sirius looks up from the small pile of paper he’s torn off the label of his beer, eyes wide and cheeks pink. “Do you think we can talk?”

Remus blinks. “Like…well, we are, aren’t we?”

“No, I - ” Sirius runs a hand through his hair. He’s impossibly pretty. Remus heard a rumor once when he first moved here that Sirius declined an opportunity to model for Vogue when he was a teenager. He always thought it was shit, something stupid that got spread through the rumor mill and misconstrued.

But now, looking at Sirius in this shitty, poorly lit bar, Remus doesn’t think it’s so impossible. He’s just stunning. Fair skin and gray eyes with those thick eyelashes that Remus wants to dedicate the next hour to counting. He’s all high cheekbones and sharp jawlines and so so pretty.

Handsome isn’t the right word, however true it may be. Beautiful doesn’t seem to cut it either, not anywhere near enough of a word to describe him. Gorgeous fits him just as well, but it seems far too simple a descriptor for such a person.

So, he’s pretty.

“I mean,” Sirius takes a deep breath and Remus drags himself out of his thoughts. “Can we talk, like, about things?”

“About things?”

“Yes.”

“Okay…” Remus trails off, confused. “How about the fact that James has foot fungus again?”

Sirius stares at him for a beat before closing his eyes and sighing. “You know, I sort of had a topic in mind already.”

“Oh.”

“I wanna talk about us.”

“Oh.” Remus blinks. He scratches behind his ear and his heart rate speeds up to an unprecedented rate. His hands are suddenly clammy and sweaty and shaky and dear Lord - us? What on Earth does he mean by us?

Two hookups does not a relationship make!

Is that what Sirius even means by us? Maybe he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with Remus. Maybe he meant us in a bad way.

You can’t spell hookups without oops!

Remus made a decision several days ago to be an adult man. So instead of doing what he wants to do, which is running as fast and as far as he can (which is not very), he clears his throat and says, in as much of a voice as he can muster up, “What about us?”

“Well,” Sirius pulls a giant strip off the label of his beer bottle. “We never really talked about it.”

“Talked about what?”

“Remus.”

Remus sighs, resting his chin in his hand and locking his eyes on Sirius. “You sucked my dick.”

Sirius’ eyes widen and his cheeks instantly color, a blush visible even in the dark lighting. “Yes,” he chokes.

“You hate me, and you sucked my dick.”

“Okay, say it louder - I think Gertrude over on Burrow Street didn’t hear you.”

“You, Sirius Black, hate me, Remus Lupin. Yet two weeks ago, you, Sirius Black, sucked my, Remus Lupin, dick.”

“You’re annoying and I do hate you.”

“And yet you sucked my - ”

“God, okay,” Sirius huffs. “You sucked my dick too!”

“I was reciprocating a favor.”

“Is that all it was?”

Remus blinks, slightly taken aback. “I wouldn’t reciprocate a favor if I didn’t want to.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Because it was, well, it was, uh, nice of you to reciprocate that favor.”

“I know.”

“You’re a bit of a bitch, you know?”

“I’ve heard that once or twice.”

“Consider this number three.”

“I’m fairly certain you can take credit for numbers one and two,” Remus laughs.

“I'm trying to have a mature conversation!” Sirius laughs.

“Are you?”

“Uh, duh.”

“You haven’t been mature a day in your life.”

“I’m trying something new.”

“How’s it working for you?”

“Not well.”

Remus smiles slowly, his eyes still trained on Sirius’ face. “I’m not really sure what you want me to say, Sirius.”

“I don’t want you to say anything.” Sirius twirls the now empty beer bottle in his hand, the glass making sharp sounds against the wood. A few quiet moments pass before he eventually speaks, “Except that I do. Because I…well, I sucked your dick. And then you sucked my dick. And we haven’t spoken about it.”

“We haven’t spoken about it.”

“No, no. We haven’t. And I think that maybe it would possibly be a good potential idea of something that is a topic that we should discuss.”

“Should we?” Remus smirks.

“Yes.”

Remus keeps his eyes locked on Sirius, narrow and dark. “You think we should?”

Sirius shifts in his seat, his eyes darting around the busy bar. He clears his throat, “Yes, I think we should.”

Remus takes a slow sip of his drink while he lets his eyes trail up Sirius, takes in the dark denim over his legs, the tight black shirt stretched over his shoulders, his messy hair and flushed cheeks. “Do you want to?”

“Yes, I’ve just said that!”

Remus leans over the table, his hand resting high on Sirius’ thigh. He tucks a piece of hair behind Sirius’ ear and whispers, “You want to talk about it?”

Sirius closes his eyes and tilts his head back. Remus moves his hand further up his thigh. “I want to…talk about it.”

“Us?”

“Us.”

Remus’ lips are practically on his neck, so close that he can see the goosebumps forming on Sirius’ skin. “You want to talk about us.”

“I do,” he mutters. “I…want to - to talk about us.”

“Talk, Sirius.”

“I’m trying,” he grumbles. “We didn’t get off on the right foot…but.” Remus slides his hand further up his thigh, to the point it may as well be resting on his dick. “But, then - we…and, and - fucking hell, Remus.”

“You’re not doing much talking.”

“And whose fault is that?” He snaps.

Remus smirks, leaning back just a little so he can look Sirius in the eyes. Sirius's eyes are firm and set, an irritated glint that fades as soon as Remus smiles at him. His eyes quickly dart to Sirius’ lips and he absentmindedly licks his own.

Sirius lets out a huff before grabbing Remus’ hand, the one resting on his thigh, and starts to pull him off his seat. “I don’t wanna talk anymore,” he mumbles. Sirius’ hand is warm and strong as he weaves Remus through the crowds to the backdoor of the bar. Remus chances a look back, Fabian’s bright green eyes glaring in their direction. Remus smiles tightly before abandoning pleasantries and focusing back on Sirius and the way his jeans perfectly frame his ass.

Sirius pushes him against the wall of the bar, the sky is dark and cloudy with only a single street light for illumination. Remus’ sweater catches on the brick, his brain distantly hoping that it won’t snag. But then Sirius’ tongue is in his mouth and he’s not concerned about his sweater at all - couldn’t care less about it, actually.

Sirius bites down on his bottom lip with a gentle tug. He’s pressed tightly up against Remus, his hips pressing against Remus’ in a borderline painful manner. He shifts his leg just a little bit, slides it between Sirius’ and revels in the breathy gasp it causes.

Normally he would like to take his time, slow and sweet and good, but Sirius is open-mouthed and panting against his neck, rutting his hard cock against Remus’ leg outside of this dingy bar. Remus quickly gets Sirius's pants unzipped and gets his hand around Sirius’ cock, feels teeth sink into the side of his neck and squeezes his hand in warning.

With quick and concise movements, Sirius becomes a stuttering mess against him, incoherent moans and whines falling from his lips. Remus gives another calculated twist of his wrist and feels the hot spill of Sirius’ come around his hand, sucks his fingers clean, and dries them against his own pants. Sirius watches with enraptured eyes, licks his lips, and swallows harshly.

He makes quick work of Remus’ pants, unbuttoning them and shoving a hand into his boxers and around his cock. Remus is already, embarrassingly, on edge, has been since he first got his hands on Sirius. He can tell he’s already close and can hardly last long with the expert way Sirius is stroking him and whispering in his ear.

“Sirius,” he pants, his tongue licking against Sirius’ jaw. The fingers around his cock tighten, Sirius’ bringing him closer and closer to the edge. He can feel it building, white-hot pleasure coursing through his veins. “Sirius, God, fuck.”

“Good?” Sirius smirks, a self-satisfied thing that would ordinarily drive Remus insane, but the hand wrapped tight and warm around Remus’ cock is the only thing making him insane right now.

“Don’t…ask stupid questions,” he breathes. Sirius swipes a finger over the head of his cock, twists his wrist just right, and Remus comes with a moan. Sirius’s mouth is on his, swallowing down the sound, as his hand slowly moves around him, the overstimulation making his cock twitch.

“Good?” Sirius asks again, finally removing his hand from Remus’ softening cock.

“I said don’t ask stupid questions.”

***

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! Fish have a specialized sense organ called their lateral line, which works much like radar and helps them navigate in dark or murky water. Spooky!

Chapter Text

“Celebrate good times, c’mon!”

Remus bolts awake in terror, frantically sitting up in his bed and throwing his hands around to find whatever is playing that god-awful music.

“Let’s celebrate!”

He finds his phone, dead and silent. He throws it somewhere in his bed and struggles to untangle his legs from the sheets, tripping over them in his haste.

“There’s a party going on right here.”

He squints, hoping that having his eyes shut will somehow make the music quieter. It doesn’t work.

“A celebration to last throughout the years.”

The corner of his bedroom door hits him in the head as he harshly pulls it open. He’s still rubbing the sore spot on his head when he walks into his living room.

“So bring your good times and your laughter too.”

He fumbles to find the light switch on the wall, bumping into his bookshelf and knocking off several picture frames and books in the process. He blinks at the harsh light before whipping his head around to try and find what’s causing the music.

“We gonna celebrate your party with you, come on!”

Mary.

Mary MacDonald.

Sitting cross-legged on his couch, in a fluffy pink robe and matching fluffy pink slippers.

Remus clenches his teeth and stares at her.

She smiles and waves.

“Celebration.”

Remus turns the living room light off and stalks back into his bedroom, briefly glancing at the clock that fell to the floor and shattered. If his eyesight without his glasses and his ability to read through the shards is correct, it’s 2 o’clock in the morning.

He was asleep.

He crawls back into his bed, pulls the blankets up to his neck, and sandwiches his head between two pillows.

His bedroom door opens and closes softly and he feels the dip of the other half of his bed as Mary crawls in. She flips on the bedside table lamp and Remus groans.

“This is life-changing news, Remus,” she whispers as if she wasn’t just blasting 80s music through his home. “I need you to be awake for this.”

“I hope you die,” he mumbles.

“You won’t once I tell you this life-changing information!”

“This couldn’t have waited?”

“No!”

“I’m sleeping.”

“No!”

“I’m kicking you out.”

“No!”

“Jesus Christ, Mary!” He whines as he whips the pillow off his bed and sits up to face her. “What? What could possibly be so life-changing that you have to wake me up at 2 o’clock in the morning!?”

“…I have a date.”

He sighs and looks at her for a couple of seconds. “Go get me a coffee.”

Mary smiles and slides out the bed, returning a couple minutes later with a steaming coffee mug. “Splash of milk and sugar.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs as he takes a sip. He leans against his headboard, his legs out in front of him crossed at the ankle. Mary is in the middle of the bed, sitting cross-legged and looking at him. “Okay, explain.”

“Well, I was doing Lily’s hair today - couldn’t convince her to do blue, we’ll have to try again next time - ”

“Damn,” he whispers.

“So, I was cutting her hair and lamenting about my life, as one does, and she goes ‘I think I know someone to set you up with’ and I’m, of course, all bashful and whatnot, and, anyway, long story short - I’m going on a blind date!”

“A blind date?” He asks surprised. “Lily set you up on a blind date and you accepted?”

“Yeah!” She grins. “I was miserable waiting around for Emmeline, and you know what - I took your advice and I’m moving on! I can’t sit here and count flower petals forever. And what better way to get over someone than to get under someone, if you know what I mean.”

“But a blind date?”

“Remus, some of us are pretty and don’t have to worry about people ditching the date when they see that we’re ugly.”

Remus glares at her unimpressed. “Nobody’s ditched the date because I’m ugly,” he mumbles as he takes another sip of his coffee.

“That you know of,” she smirks. “Anyway, it’s a risk, I guess. But this girl is perfect, Rem. Lily knows her from yoga and she’s exactly what I’m looking for!”

“A therapist?”

“Dick. No, she just got out of a serious relationship so she’s not looking for something too big right now.”

“Mary,” he says gently. “How on God’s green Earth does that mean she’s perfect for you? You were just crying about how much you wanted to be married. Yesterday.”

“That was Yesterday Mary. Today Mary realizes she needs to get over Emmeline. And the best way to get over someone - ”

“Is to get under someone, yes, I know.”

“Catching on,” she smirks. “She’s looking for a fling and I’m looking for a fling, it’s perfect!”

“I’ve never heard of a lesbian fling before.”

“Homophobic and incorrect. I’m going to fling. I’m going to fling so hard and so good.”

“Is ‘fling’ code for something?”

Mary ignores him, steals his coffee mug, and takes a sip. “She loves to crochet, and I have always loved the idea of learning how to crochet. She lives in Godric’s Hollow and she’s never dated Pandora Lovegood - which you know is like a right of passage for all the lesbians in Godric’s Hollow.”

“Wow,” he nods, impressed. Remus hasn’t met a lesbian who hasn’t dated Pandora Lovegood. She’s even the reason Marlene and Dorcas met. “Is she new in town?”

“Uh,” Mary says. “I don’t know. We didn’t get that far.”

Remus raises an eyebrow, “How far did you get?”

“Not too far, just a close-up of my puss - ”

“Mary!”

Mary giggles and flops down on the bed. She rests her head on the pillow and looks up toward him, “We just chatted a little bit, nothing serious. She’s super busy right now so we’re not meeting for dinner until next week.”

“Where?”

“Frankie’s.”

“She passes my test, then.”

“Yes, yes, Frankie’s is the place for first dates, I know.”

Remus smiles at her and shuffles down on the bed so he’s lying down, his head on the pillow and facing Mary. “I’m happy for you, Mar.”

“Thank you, Rem,” she whispers. A couple seconds pass, “I really like her.”

Remus’ heart stutters in his chest and he resists every urge in his body to warn her or try to protect her or tell her not to get ahead of herself. He’s become a more sympathetic man.

“I’m happy for you,” he says again.

“You think I’m batshit insane.”

“But I didn’t say it.”

“I know, you’re growing as a person. I’m so proud.”

“Thank you. Can you tell Lily that cause she doesn’t think so.”

“Speaking of Lily - giant hickey on her neck today.”

“Oh my gosh, no!”

***

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! African Lungfish are capable of living out of water for up to two (2) years! They hibernate underground and wait for the water level to rise. Isn’t that cool?!

Remus: how do they breathe? do they not have gills?

***

Vermont has kidnapped Remus’ private chef, James. It’s a travesty, really. James and Lily have gone on a romantic vacation in celebration of James’ parents owning a timeshare that wasn’t being used this weekend.

Remus is wholeheartedly against this endeavor, for purely selfish reasons, of course.

He knows James has probably cooked him something and left it in the Potter’s fridge, but he has five whole days without them so he’s saving whatever it is for more desperate times.

He gave a valiant attempt at cooking himself dinner, which ended in burning his noodles and splattering tomato sauce all over his white cabinets. He had to spend an hour scrubbing sauce from the top of his cupboards and vowed to never ever try to cook again.

Still starving and now boycotting his kitchen, Remus heads over to Frankie’s to get dinner.

Godric’s Hollow has only two restaurants in town, Frankie’s and Godric’s House. Frankie’s is his (and most people’s) favorite, owned by Frank Longbottom and his wife, Alice, who also runs the bakery next door. Godric’s House is some overpriced crap owned by Horace Slughorn, some old grouch that lives on the outskirts of town and spends his days throwing berries at the squirrels eating his tomato plants.

Remus had thought to maybe meet Benjy here tonight, but quickly dropped it and decided to dine alone.

Benjy is okay.

He’s kind of short and he has blond hair, which Remus doesn’t particularly like, but his personality is fine. He makes jokes sometimes and Remus occasionally remembers to laugh at them, but he’s dead boring and every time they hang out Remus finds himself waiting for the night to end.

Remus liked him, in the beginning. His boring personality wasn’t boring, it was more calming and friendly. His jokes weren’t unfunny, Remus actually and genuinely laughed at them. But then two weeks ago, about four weeks after Remus first met Benjy, Sirius sucked Remus’ dick in a bathroom and suddenly Benjy was a dull, boring, balding blonde that was only 5 '7.

He locks his door and heads out, his knees aching at the first activity he’s done all day. The walk is quick, putting him at the restaurant in less than ten minutes.

“Hi, Remus,” Alice greets him when he walks into the restaurant, her cheeks rosy with a big smile. “Just going to be one tonight?”

He internally groans at the wording, a slightly painful reminder that he is, in fact, just one. He nods before glancing around the restaurant and realizing it’s packed, only a handful of empty tables left. “Actually, I can just sit at the bar.”

“You sure? We can get ya set up at a table.”

“No, no worries. Thanks, Alice.” He heads over to the bar and slides into a chair, pulling his phone out of his pocket and scrolling for the simple act of having something to do.

He orders a gin and tonic (no lime) and a chicken pasta, trusting that they won’t burn the noodles and get sauce everywhere. Evidently, they don’t, Remus’ meal coming out of the kitchen steaming hot and entirely edible.

He scarfs it down as if he hasn’t eaten in a century, finishing the whole plate in a borderline impressive seven minutes. The empty dish is taken away and he orders a chocolate cheesecake, a reward for getting himself through the week.

“This seat taken?”

Remus quickly wipes at his face, ensuring there’s no pasta sauce or crumbs on his mouth, before turning to face Sirius. Sirius, dressed in a black sweater that’s perfectly tight around his shoulders, and slacks, that perfectly extenuate his waist, smiles a sweet thing, all perfectly straight teeth and dimples.

Remus swallows and wipes at his mouth one more time, just in case. “No, no. It’s, uh, it’s open.”

“Excellent.”

Sirius slides into the seat next to him and rests his hands on the bar as his leg bounces up and down. A bartender nods hello and slides a bottle of beer toward him, Sirius not even having to ask.

“Last time I was here,” Sirius starts with a small laugh. “I had ordered takeout, and I showed up to get it up and someone had stolen it.”

Remus feels his face flush, taking a sudden and extreme interest in his own hands. He twists his fingers together, tries to think of something to say. Sirius glances at him expectantly, one look at Remus’ sheepish expression finishing his story.

“So, you stole it?”

Remus opens and closes his mouth, struggling to think of anything to say. Sirius watches him in amusement and rests his head in his hand as if he’s patiently waiting for an explanation.

“I…” Remus starts. “I may have.”

“You may have?”

“I did.”

“How old are you?”

“Oh, shut it. You shaped my bushes into balls!”

“That’s a very traditional bush shape.”

“Yeah, for the owner of PornHub!”

“Why even steal my food?” Sirius says through a laugh. “What were you hoping would happen?”

Remus thinks about it, only partially agrees that it was childish and immature, but ultimately still decides Sirius deserved it. “I don’t know, I guess that you’d have to wait while they remade your food.”

“A whole ten minutes that I’ll never get back,” he says fondly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes. “That’s what I say every time I talk to you.”

“Funny, though,” Sirius says, ignoring him. “Because I was upset about it. I was starving and got so irritated that I had to wait longer.”

“A whole ten minutes,” Remus smiles.

“And I never did get them back.”

“Well, since we’re in the business of being mature: I’m sorry I stole your dinner.”

“Wow,” Sirius whistles. “That was incredibly mature of you. Did it hurt?”

“Terribly,” Remus nods his head sagely.

“I can tell,” Sirius hums. “Well, thanks for the apology.”

“And?” Remus probes.

“And what?”

“You’re…”

“Thankful for the apology?” Remus levels him with an unimpressed look, one he’s perfected after receiving it countless times from Lily. “Fine, okay. I’m sorry I shaped your bushes into balls.”

“Thank you.”

“You have to admit they looked pretty good, though.”

“I guess if you’re into giant green balls, but to me that’s just a medical condition.”

Sirius smiles and takes a sip of his beer, some dark ale with a purple cow printed on the label. “I guess it was a little deserved that you stole my food.”

“A little?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffs. “I wasn’t that upset. I was just hungry. And I thought for sure it was Greggory that stole it so that upset me more.”

Remus hums and watches the way Sirius’ lips stretch around his beer bottle. “Greggory’s that kid that was causing trouble a couple of summers ago, yeah?”

“Mmhm,” Sirius nods as he twirls the bottle in his hand. “Good kid caught up in the wrong crowd. You know how it is,” he says with a shrug.

“Not really,” Remus laughs. “I was a good kid caught up in the crowd of my only friend, who wore suspenders and corrected the teachers.”

Sirius smiles, a beautiful and causal thing that makes Remus’ insides all jittery. “I guess you wouldn’t know, then.”

“Does that mean you do?”

Sirius trails his eyes over Remus’ with a flirty smile, one Remus has never before been on the receiving end of and it makes his face flush and stomach twist. “Digging for my secrets?”

“Only if they’re worthy of digging for. I hate getting dirt under my nails.”

Sirius shakes his head with a laugh, his eyes landing back on Remus. “Then you may be dissatisfied. A lonely kid who finally gets friends, friends who drink and light fires and stay out late. And a lonely kid doesn’t want to be lonely anymore, so…”

“If you call drinking and staying out late being involved with the ‘wrong crowd,’” Remus starts, finishing the last of his gin and tonic, “Then I’d hate for you to hear what Mary and I got up to on Friday nights.”

“Scrabble?”

“Ha ha,” Remus deadpans with a dramatic roll of his eyes. His cheesecake comes up a second later, followed by Sirius’ bowl of chicken pasta, which he also did not verbally order.

“I always forget you and MacDonald are old friends,” Sirius says after taking a bite of pasta. “She used to always mention her ‘old pal Remmy’ and I would think to myself, what poor, unfortunate sod is walking around with the name Remmy. Unfortunately for that sod, reality is much worse.”

“Hey!” Remus laughs. “Someone walking around with an adjective for a name cannot speak on mine.”

“It’s a star!” Sirius mumbles, his mouth full of chicken pasta. Remus shoves down the flutter in his stomach, something he definitely shouldn’t be feeling because talking while you’re chewing is gross, not endearing. “What even is a Remus?”

“A name.”

“For a dog, maybe,” Sirius mumbles to himself, harshly stabbing his noodle with his fork. Remus finishes his cheesecake and digs his card out of his wallet, an employee having quietly dropped off his bill sometime while he was talking to Sirius.

“Can I ask you something?” Remus asks, catching Sirius off guard with a mouth full of food. Sirius nods and uses his hand to cover his mouth while he chews, which isn’t gross and is endearing. “How do you know my mother?”

His eyebrows furrow for a second, a small line forming between his eyes, before they rise and he barks out a laugh. He slaps a hand against the bar and throws his head back while he laughs. That annoying flutter returns in Remus’ stomach and this time he lets it be.

A moment and several curious glances from other diners later, Sirius chugs his glass of water and sighs. “Hope?”

“Yes, see!” Remus points at him, “How do you know her name? She’s never even been here!”

“You underestimate how loose-lipped Lily is,” he smiles. “She mentioned it off-hand once and I found Hope’s number in her phone. Gave her a call, had a chat - she’s real sweet. We talk every Thursday.”

“You talk to my mother every Thursday?”

Sirius nods and stabs another noodle. “She gave me some excellent tips on how to prune my azaleas.”

“How…to prune…” he mumbles to himself. “My mother!”

“She says hello, by the way,” Sirius says. Remus blinks. “It started out as a way to mess with you, but she’s a lovely woman with excellent gardening tips. Miss Martha was about to lose that big rose bush in her backyard - the one with the big yellow roses? - but Hope recommended this excellent fertilizer and that bad boy perked right on up.”

“My mother, Sirius.”

“I know, I know.” He holds his hands up in surrender, a surprisingly apologetic smile on his face. “I promise I’ll stop if you want me to, but she’s a great chat. We play online Canasta together and she gives me gardening tips and tells me all about her neighborhood drama! Did you hear about Daphne and - ”

“Yes,” he interrupts with a sigh. “I heard all about Daphne and her no-good husband. You can…you can keep talking to her, I guess.”

“Good because I was sort of planning on it anyway. She’s looking through her guest room to find me her old recipe for a French silk pie, Remus.”

“It’s an excellent recipe,” he smiles, thinking fondly of the hundreds of times his mother made it for him. “She made it for every holiday and birthday.”

“Really?” He asks, a gleam in his eyes that makes Remus’ heart stutter and his stomach flutter. An odd combination that he doesn’t like.

“Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween, Easter, April Fools Day…”

“She must have loved it,” he smiles.

“No, no,” Remus laughs, shaking his head and sending a curl flying into his eyes. “She hated it, was more of a lemon meringue kind of woman, but I loved it.”

“Sweet tooth?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Remus smirks. “One time, um - ” Remus cuts himself off, suddenly remembering who he’s talking to and feeling the intense need not to share that story with him.

Sirius catches the slip-up, his eyes narrowing and his smile growing. “Go on.”

Remus shakes his head.

“You can’t start a story with ‘one time’ and end it with ‘um.’”

“I can, and I did.”

“Tell me! Tell me!”

“It’s not even a good story. It’s silly, really.”

“I love silly stories.”

“Then it’s a horror.”

“Give me a hint, at least.”

Remus thinks on it, weighing the pros and cons, before deciding on a vague, “Chocolate.”

“Chocolate…chocolate, chocolate. Oh! Did you once eat a whole chocolate cake by yourself?”

“Yes, but no.”

“James did that in college, he was throwing up for three days straight. Did you find chocolate under the seat of your car and eat it even though you had no idea how old it was?”

“No - James?”

“James.”

“One day he’ll learn.”

“I’ve been saying that for years,” Sirius sighs. “Hey, don’t distract me! Give me another hint.”

Remus taps his finger against the bar until he thinks of another perfectly vague hint. “Protection.”

“Protection?” Sirius repeats, his eyebrows furrowed. “What? How is that at all connected to chocolate?”

The bartender drops his bill off at that moment, cutting off what Remus was going to say. He grabs his card and slides it back into his wallet, signs his receipt with a sad attempt at cursive before turning to face Sirius again.

“Think on it,” he smirks.

Sirius has dropped his fork next to his plate, his gray eyes big and wide as they watch Remus’ hands. “Are you leaving?” He says, a trace of shock and disappointment, his desire to figure out Remus’ story long gone.

“Um.” Remus glances at his empty plate and receipt. “Yeah.”

“Oh,” Sirius mumbles. He picks his fork up and swirls a noodle around his plate, slops pasta sauce over the side of the dish. “Okay.”

“Thanks for chatting,” he tries, Sirius still staring down at his pasta with a pout. “See ya around?”

Sirius finally glances back up, his cheeks stained a faint pink and lips turned down into the faintest of frowns. “Yeah.”

Remus taps his finger against the bar with a nod, the sudden whiplash of the conversation making his head go crazy. Sirius is still looking at him, all big eyes and pink lips and Remus’ brain is supplying unhelpful memories of yellow tiles and bruised knees.

“Alright then,” he smiles tightly. He waves goodbye again, his feet moving in the opposite direction of his brain. The exit door appears much faster than he expects, the cool air of the night hitting him sooner than he was hoping.

Twenty steps down the road and there’s a sound of hurried footsteps behind him. His heart squeezes in his chest, a painful thud that he can feel all the way down in his toes.

“Fuck, your legs are long!” Sirius pants, reaching out to grab Remus by the wrist. He takes big breaths, his chest heaving. “God, I’m winded.”

Remus smiles despite himself, the image of a breathless Sirius busy fogging up his coherent thoughts.

“I didn’t…” he pants. “I didn’t even pay my bill. I…uh, God, I ran.”

“Clearly,” Remus laughs.

“It’s not funny,” Sirius groans. “I have smoker's lungs and you shouldn’t laugh at that.”

“I’m laughing at you, not your lungs.”

“You shouldn’t laugh at me either. Because, well because I just chased you out of a restaurant and now I’m standing in front of you all out of breath and sweaty.”

“I happen to like you out of breath and sweaty.”

Sirius stops panting, his mouth drawn in a firm line. His voice is quiet but strong. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” Remus blinks, his heart moving faster than it has in years, his hands clamming up, and his skin tingling. Panic runs through his veins at the simple idea of Sirius wanting him to stop - to end this thing they’re doing.

“Because I sort of like it when you do,” Sirius says, his face suddenly firm and honest. “I sort of like it when you say those things. I sort of like it when you laugh and I sort of like it a thousand times more when it’s because of something that I said.”

Sirius takes a deep breath and levels him with a hopeful smile, “I sort of like you, Remus. Which is a little bit embarrassing, honestly. And very painful for me to say, you see, because I didn’t always. I didn’t, and then I did and now I really do. I don’t want to bump into you at Weasley’s or MarBean’s or Frankie’s and it’s no longer because I just don’t want to see you, but because I want to go there with you. I don’t want to bump into you, I want to walk in the door with you and order with you and eat with you and sit with you and walk home with you. It’s terrible and miserable, truly, and if six-month-ago-Sirius heard me saying any of this he would, quite literally, kill me.”

“I thought - ”

“And I think you like me, too,” Sirius cuts him off, his voice growing louder and his feet inching closer to Remus. “I think you do. Because you talk to me and laugh at my jokes. You brought me cookies and…well.”

“We hookup?”

“Yes, that.”

“I sort of like you, too.”

“Only sort of?” Sirius attempts a laugh, a shaky and nervous thing that makes Remus’ mind scream.

“Kind of? A little bit? Faintly?” Remus offers.

“That one doesn’t work,” Sirius mumbles.

Remus takes a step closer to him, only inches separating them. “I faintly like you, Sirius.”

Sirius doesn’t respond immediately, just keeps his eyes locked on Remus as a small smile forms on his face. The streetlight above them shines down on his face, a faint glow that almost makes him feel like he’s in a dream. He wants to reach out and feel him, touch him, make sure he’s real and he hasn’t imagined this whole evening.

Leave it to Remus to imagine a love confession.

Or an ‘I sort of like you’ confession.

The silence is unbearable, only birds chirping and leaves rustling in the wind. He’s not sure if he should say something or wait for Sirius to speak.

“I told you ‘faintly’ doesn’t work,” Sirius smiles.

“Leave it to you to have stipulations during my confession of feelings,” Remus laughs.

“It’s simple context, Remus. I would think you, as a publisher, could understand context.”

“I understand context,” he sighs.

“Clearly not if you think ‘faintly’ works in that context.”

“You’re so fucking picky. How come I can’t even get my confession right in your book?”

“It was right, it was just wrong!”

“Big deal!”

“It is a big deal!”

“I thought this was a feelings confession? You sound like you hate me!”

“I never hated you. Well, okay, I did. At the beginning. And sometimes in the middle. And occasionally at the end too - like yesterday and the day before and the day be - ”

“Sirius,” Remus groans.

“Fine, okay, fine. I didn’t hate you. That much.”

“Just when I say ‘faintly’?”

“Remus, I can’t date someone who doesn’t know basic language context.”

“Date?”

“Do you think I’d give you a feelings confession if I didn’t want to date you?” Sirius smiles. “God knows why, you’re irritating and don’t even know basic language, but we don’t get to pick who we - ”

“Oh, would you shut up?” Remus says as he inches closer and forces him to stop talking with a kiss. Sirius relaxes into it, his hands instantly reaching up to twist in Remus’ hair.

Sirius breaks the kiss, leaning back to stare up at Remus. He smiles a beautiful thing before grabbing Remus by the wrist with a tight grip and drags him down the road and to his house. Remus laughs the whole way there, quick on his feet as Sirius moves them around the neighborhood. A kiss on every corner that makes it take ages to get to somewhere private, a loud moan that has Sirius moving them even faster, a certain look that has Remus’ blood running south.

Sirius’ door is opened with shaky hands, quickly abandoning his keys and focusing on something far more interesting - Remus’ belt.

Clothes are discarded slowly, making a trail from the front door to Sirius’ bedroom. Sirius falls backward on the bed and scoots back so his head is resting on the pillow. Remus crawls over him, leaving open-mouthed kisses on exposed skin as he makes his way up.

There’s too much tongue and too much teeth, but it’s perfect and sloppy and Sirius is beautiful, panting and breathless after only minutes. A loud moan into Remus’ mouth when he wraps his hand around Sirius’ hard cock makes it all the better. Remus’ fingers are loose around him, just enough to result in a moaning and desperate Sirius.

“Remus,” Sirius groans, wrapping his hand over Remus’ hand and tightening his grip. Remus bats his hand away, loosens his grip, and sucks a mark into Sirius’ neck. “Remus, you fucking goddamn asshole!”

“That’s not very nice,” he mumbles. Runs a wet finger over the head of Sirius’ cock, watches him throw his head back and feels his legs start to twitch.

“You’re not…” he moans, pushing his hips up and into Remus’ hand, “…very nice, fuck!”

“Then I’ll stop.” He removes his hand.

Remus adjusts his legs so they’re no longer touching at all, wipes his wet hand on Sirius’ stomach and pretends like he’s done. Sirius swears at the loss of contact around his cock, bucks his hips up into the air, touches nothing and groans in frustration.

Sirius grabs his wrist, a tight grip that he distantly hopes leaves a bruise. “Don’t you dare.”

Remus smiles down at him, quirks an eyebrow, and yanks his hand out of Sirius’ grip. He moves carefully down Sirius’ body, making sure he’s not touching him anywhere. Sirius’ cock is hard and dripping against his stomach, his hips still lifting in the air in a desperate search for friction.

Remus doesn’t dare touch him, not with a hand or a finger, until he’s level with Sirius cock. His lips are centimeters from the head, only his hot breaths of air touching him. Sirius swears something, his fingers twisting tightly in Remus’ hair. Remus lets his eyes trail up his body until they land on his face, flushed with a gleam of sweat.

He keeps his eyes set on Sirius’ when he takes his cock into his mouth in one smooth motion. Sirius instantly bucks his hips up and into Remus’ mouth, a frantic apology mixing with breathy moans. The tip of his cock hits the back of his throat, Remus having to adjust his mouth to try and fit better around him. He hollows his cheeks and swallows, Sirius’ breathing quickly turning shallow and labored. He keeps his hands firm behind his back, refusing to touch Sirius anywhere else.

A moment later and Sirius is whining above him, begging and pleasing. Remus licks at the slit and suddenly Sirius is coming down Remus’ throat with a loud moan and his fingers tangled in Remus’ hair. Remus pulls off, wipes the spit and come off his mouth. His fingers remain a gentle and intense presence around Sirius’ loosening cock, his mouth trailing hot kisses up Sirius’ chest and to his neck. Sirius squirms, unable to decide if he wants to lean in or away from the touch.

“Condoms?” He asks, a mumbled mess since he refuses to let his lips leave Sirius’s skin.

“Bottom drawer,” Sirius answers quickly, hips bucking up and pushing into Remus’ hand. He can feel his cock already starting to twitch, heavy and warm in his hand. He twists his wrist a little bit, Sirius hissing at the overstimulation, but his cock starts to harden.

Remus leaves a quick kiss against his lips before removing both of his hands, already missing the touch and feel of Sirius beneath them. He digs around blindly through the bottom drawer of the bedside table until he finds the box, haphazardly tossing it on the bed before pulling himself back up to straddle Sirius.

Sirius beats him to it and grabs a condom before shoving the box in his hand to throw it off of the bed. Remus gets the hint, Sirius’ whispered ‘hurry, hurry’ going straight to his dick. He throws the box to the side, a bright yellow sticker catching his attention out of the corner of his eye.

“Sirius,” he says, lifting his hip slightly away.

“What? What?” He asks, breathless and impatient.

Remus reaches his arm out to grab the abandoned box of condoms, inspecting the bright yellow sticker that’s so neon it’s visible in the dark bedroom.

“Did you seriously buy clearance fucking condoms?”

“What?” He says, confused. “Remus, what the Hell?”

“Clearance condoms, Sirius!”

“Okay!?”

“Clearance!”

“What’s the big deal?”

“You don’t buy condoms on clearance!”

“Why the Hell not?”

“I…I don’t know! It’s weird!”

“Why!?”

“It just is!”

“You’re so fucking nitpicky. It’s not a big deal, Remus.”

“Medications and condoms do not belong on clearance, Sirius.”

“Give me one good reason.”

“They just don’t!”

“That’s not a reason!”

“I shouldn’t have to explain why. It’s common sense.”

“You’re so fucking - oh my god!” Sirius gasps, his eyes wide and smile bright. “Chocolate condoms!”

Remus pauses, looking down at him in confusion. He quirks an eyebrow, Sirius breaking out in a continuous giggle.

“Chocolate protection,” he finally says, breathy and choked as he laughs.

The realization dawns on him, his cheeks flushing at the memory. “Guess my hint wasn’t that vague,” he mumbles.

Sirius giggles, “I told you I’d figure it out.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he says with a fond roll of his eyes.

“Oh my God,” Sirius says with a sigh. “You make fun of my clearance condoms, meanwhile you’re using chocolate-flavored ones!”

“Okay, that was years ago, and chocolate condoms are better than clearance condoms!”

“Okay,” Sirius says easily. “Either use them and fuck me, or don’t.”

Remus throws the box back on the floor and quickly tears open the foil packet.

Chapter Text

A blonde lady takes a sledgehammer to a wall, a giant hole appearing directly in the center of the wall separating the kitchen and living room. She swings the sledgehammer again and makes a matching hole three feet to the left. Remus sighs and turns the volume down.

“Why do you even watch this if you hate it so much?” Mary mumbles around a mouthful of popcorn. “You always bitch about the same stupid things they do, but yet you watch it every day.”

“One day they may make a good decision,” Remus grumbles. He reaches a hand into the bowl and grabs a handful of popcorn.

“Holding out hope, are you?”

“You could say. But we’re going on three years and I’ve yet to see a good decision be made, so we’ll see.”

Mary mumbles something to herself and shoves another handful of popcorn in her mouth. She reaches across his lap and snatches the remote, flipping through the channels until she lands on some old episode of Law & Order. Remus doesn’t complain, if he had to watch those people stupidly tear down another wall to create the same open-concept house over and over again, he might pull his hair out. And his dad started balding at 45, so he really shouldn’t do that.

“It’s him,” Mary says as soon as a bald white guy shows up on the screen.

“How do you know?”

“Look at him. He’s white and old and bald and he’s a he. It’s definitely him.”

“We’re only five minutes into the episode. It could be anyone at this point.”

“I know murderers, Remus. I’m telling you, it’s him. He’s got murder in the eyes.”

Remus doesn’t respond, far too exhausted to argue with Mary and her passion for determining TV show murderers. She ends up being right, of course. The bald old man is the murderer, and it’s Remus (and the pretty, young blonde jogger) who has to pay for it. Mary throws popcorn at him and mocks relentlessly, something about how she’s always right and should never be doubted. Remus thinks otherwise, but a piece of popcorn hits him in the eye so his argument dies on his tongue.

Another episode starts up and Mary turns the volume down, shifting in her place on the couch to face him. “Okay,” she starts. “I’m tipsy and loose-lipped. Gavin Becker was arrested.”

“What!?” Remus sits up from where he was leaning back on the couch and chokes on his own spit in the process. He coughs, struggling to clear his throat. “What the Hell do you mean?”

“Embezzlement.”

“…I don’t know what that is.”

“Dammit,” Mary grumbles. “I was hoping you would because I don’t know either.”

“Embezzle…embezzle,” he mumbles. “It sounds fancy.”

“It does,” Mary agrees with a nod. “Like bedazzle or be-sparkle.”

“Embe-dazzle-ment.”

Mary smiles and throws another piece of popcorn at him. “Maybe it has something to do with crafting.”

“Crafting?” He laughs.

“Yeah! You know, like bedazzling is a craft. So, maybe embezzling is a craft too. You embezzle a blanket, or something.”

“You knit a blanket.”

“Fine, you embezzle a painting.”

“That’s so not what it means.”

“Well, I don’t see you making any guesses,” she scoffs.

“I don’t know,” he huffs. “Maybe it’s like arson. You embezzle a house.”

“That’s way worse than crafts.”

“It’s so not! At least mine is a real crime.”

“Crafting can be a crime! Graffiti!”

“Uh, yeah, okay. Someone call the cops, Gertrude over on Burrow Street is, gasp, knitting!”

“Oh, shut up,” she grumbles, though her smile seems to betray her pouting. “Fine, it’s probably not crafting.”

“Really?”

“Maybe it’s theft. You embezzle something from a store.”

“I’m not a lawyer,” he says with a sigh. “I don’t know these things.”

“And for good reason,” Mary laughs. “Although, I’d bet you fifty bucks that Caradoc doesn’t even know what embezzlement is.”

Remus smiles, thinks it’s not a far-off assumption to say Caradoc wouldn’t know what embezzlement is. He takes a long sip of his drink, some seltzer shit that Mary wanted to try. It’s horribly sour and he hates it.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he itches to check it, but Mary is watching with rapt eyes and she will lock his phone in another room if he looks at it. Mary-and-Remus-time is supposed to be technology-free, but Mary can never refuse poor-quality television and Remus can never refuse making fun of poor-quality television. Phones, however, are off-limits.

“Okay, so Gavin gets arrested for embezzlement, whatever that is. What’s Stacy going to do?” He asks.

“That’s the kick, Remus. Stacy was arrested, too,” she says with a grin.

“No!”

“Yup. Both of them, booked and charged and arrested. Gina had to fly in from California to try and pay their bail and get them out. I think she’s still talking to their lawyer because I haven’t seen any cars in or out of their house.”

“So, embezzlement can be a joint crime,” he muses.

“And Gina is some hot-shot doctor over in California. Their other daughter is a dog walker, I think. She lives over in Maine and I haven’t seen her at all since the arrest. I don’t think she really talks to them. They’re all about Gina. Gina, Gina, Gina. Her fancy job and fancy mansion and fancy big wallet.”

“I thought Gina was really old?”

“That’s the Persner Gina, the Becker’s Gina is a couple of years older than us. There’s also the Valay’s Gina, but she’s five, so the opposite of really old. And there’s the Walls’ Gina, but she’s a dog. Literally.”

“I love that Gina,” Remus smiles.

“Anyway, Stacy was planning our next plant swap so I guess we’ll have to find someone to take over. I feel like Dorcas might, she’d be good at that kind of stuff.”

“Mmm,” he hums. “Dorcas, yes. Marlene, no.”

“Yes, yes. Okay! Your turn,” she says as she finishes off her drink. She holds a hand up to pause him as she runs through the house to grab another drink, throwing a can on the couch next to Remus.

“So, do you remember Hannah Chopin?” He asks as he pops his can open and takes a sip. “She was the redhead with the tattoos all down her arms.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mary nods. “She had that kid, what was his name? Something stupid, like Stud or Stump or Stung.”

“Sting,” Remus says as tries to hold back his laugh. “So, Sting is in Harry’s daycare and he was causing all kinds of trouble so they had to move him to a more specialized center, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, he’s been causing trouble at the specialized center, too. So now Sting has been sent back to Hannah’s house and kicked out of daycare. Hannah has now hired Poppy Pomfrey's daughter, Primrose, to babysit little Sting.”

“Okay,” Mary says with a nod.

“So, Primrose has to babysit Sting, and the new baby - did you hear she had another baby? Plum, I think her name is. Anyway, she has to babysit both of them now, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Hannah’s boyfriend pays her, I guess. It was a whole big deal about how much and who exactly owed her, but it was figured out. So, Primrose goes over to her house to babysit every day. You’ve seen their house, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, huge.”

“Yeah, exactly. So, she’s over there last Wednesday babysitting Sting and Plum, and the craziest fucking thing happens, Mary. Okay, so - ”

A knock at the door cuts him off, Mary already struggling to get off the couch. She stands with a wobble, giggling as she digs through her wallet to pull out a twenty-dollar bill.

She laughs as she stumbles to the door. “Pizza, Pizza! One cheese pizza, please,” she yells as she yanks the door open. “You’re not pizza.”

“Uh, hah, no.”

Remus’ goofy smile drops off his face and he bolts up from his place on the couch, stumbling on his feet to rush over to the front door.

“What are you doing here? Are you lost?” Mary asks as she leans against the door with a thud.

“I’m not. Are you drunk?”

“I’m not,” she laughs. “I’m tipsy. Very different. What are you doing here?”

Remus has to shove her out of the way, the handle of the door pushing into his thigh hard enough that he’s certain it will leave a bruise.

“Hi,” he says, his voice softer than he intended. Mary giggles and stumbles on her feet, despite the fact that she’s standing still.

“I think she’s a little more than tipsy,” Sirius says with a small laugh. “Hi.”

“We had some seltzers. She’s finished most of mine.”

“Ah,” he nods.

“Sorry, I’m - well, I’m happy to see you, but why are you here?”

“I texted,” Sirius smiles. He holds up a bottle of wine, an expensive-looking red, and a small bakery box from Alice’s.

Remus leans his head back and groans, “Stupid Mary and her no technology rules.”

“I’m right here,” she mumbles.

“I guess I should have waited for a response.”

“No, no,” Remus says, far too quickly and far too loud. “You’re fine. You’re great. Come in, come in.”

Mary smiles, far too giddy for the circumstance, and grabs Sirius by the wrist to drag him into the house. Her hand is gripped tightly around his arm as she drags him to the couch, plopping him down and sitting right next to him.

She grabs the bottle of wine out of his hand and inspects it, a pleased nod as she opens it by banging it against Remus’ coffee table to pop the cork. She pours the wine into her empty seltzer can before handing it off to Remus, who takes a swig straight out of the bottle. Sirius’ nose scrunches up as he watches them.

“Do you have any glasses?” He asks as Remus takes another swig straight from the bottle.

“Go get the gentleman a cup, Remus,” Mary laughs. Remus disappears into the kitchen for a moment, straining his ear to make sure Mary doesn’t say anything unsavory. He returns a second later with a red solo cup, Sirius staring at him blankly when he hands it over.

“You wanted a cup,” he says as he tries to hand it off to Sirius again.

“Yes, yeah,” Sirius mumbles. “That is a cup.”

“He’s kind of pretentious,” Mary says in a pretend whisper. Remus nods dramatically in agreement before plopping down next to Sirius on the couch.

“I’m not pretentious,” Sirius groans. “I was just expecting glass.”

“I can’t be trusted with glass,” Remus mumbles as he sloppily pours wine into Sirius’ cup. Sirius glances up at him with a soft smile and his stomach starts to flutter uncomfortably. A drop of wine splashes against his hand and Sirius brings his hand up to his mouth to lick it away. Remus has to avert his eyes.

“Sorry I wasn’t your pizza,” Sirius says as he takes a sip of his wine.

“Oh, that’s no trouble.” Mary waves a dismissive hand and pulls her legs up underneath her. “It’ll just be another minute, probably. We’re just doing gossip hour, Sirius. I think Remus was just finishing up, so it would typically be your turn. But you don’t know how it works, so I think I’ll go next to show you the ropes.”

“Well, gossiping is pretty straightforward, and I heard that Em - ”

“So,” Mary cuts Sirius off with a clap of her hands. “This is quite the doozy, a big shock for all of us Godric Hollowians. I mean, truly. An absolute shaker. Rock me off my boat kind of news. You’re sinfully unprepared for this information. Tip me off my rocker, Sirius, that’s how shocked I am. Color me gray, I’m that - ”

“Out with it, Mary!” Remus yells.

“I saw Sirius Black go to Remus Lupin’s house late on Saturday night with a bottle of wine and a dessert.”

Sirius clears his throat and sets his cup down on the coffee table. “Really?”

“Hey! The rules say no gossiping about each other,” Remus slurs. “I didn’t gossip about you and Emmeline, you can’t gossip about me.

“Emmeline and I are old news, I have a date. And she has…an ex-fiancée. This is new and exciting news! I need to gossip about it, tell me everything, Remus. What happened? I knew you liked him, by the way. I figured he liked you too, but it was a little harder to tell because I don’t really know him. But that whole little bickering thing the two of you did - totally flirting.”

“Hey!”

“It’s in the rules, MacDonald,” Sirius grumbles.

“You don’t even know the rules,” she scoffs. “So, who kissed who? You have kissed, right? Is he who left that giant hickey on your neck? I knew you didn’t fall, but I kind of thought it was Benjy. I was lowkey proud of him, he seems so vanilla. Go figure it wasn’t, though, because I really do think he’s vanilla. Way to go, Sirius, though. Although, come on, have some self-respect. Who leaves a giant hickey like that? Stop being horny and start being thoughtful.”

“They should put that on a greeting card,” Remus says.

“Or on condoms,” Sirius adds.

“Oh, that’s good,” Remus nods.

“So far none of my questions have been answered, and considering I’m speaking to the stars of the gossip, I think that’s simply wrong. How far have you gotten? Are we talking second, third base? Personally, I wouldn’t give someone a gigantic hickey if we weren’t participating in third base, but I know Remus is a kind of a slut, so we have different morals.”

“I am so not a slut, what the Hell?”

“Hey, did he date anyone in high school?” Sirius asks with a grin. “I tried to ask his mom and she brushed me off.”

“When did you ask my mom?”

“Oh, he so did. He plays up the nice, sweet kid, but I was with him all four years of high school. I mean, don’t get me wrong, we were top of our class, but that doesn’t change the facts. He dated this one girl, what was her name, Rem? Clare? Anyway, she was a total smokeshow, I had a huge crush on her and didn’t speak to Remus for a month when they dated.”

“Yeah, don’t leave out the part where we broke up and you dated her a week later,” Remus grumbles.

“Smokeshow,” Mary whispers.

“Tell me more,” Sirius says as he scoots up on the couch.

“So, do you want to hear about Remus bagging the school quarterback or that time we skipped finals to get high?”

“Oh my God,” Sirius whispers. “Both, both.”

“Okay, so, Jeremy was the quarterback of our football team in high school - and as a lesbian, very hot. So, our Remus, here…”

Remus zones out, pointedly staring at the muted TV as Mary details all of his life secrets. Sirius listens with full attention, his eyes and grin wide. Occasionally he’ll ask Mary a question, details like what Remus’ ex looked like or whether this was before or after Remus figured out curl cream.

The doorbell cuts him off mid-question, something about who Remus went to prom with (Mary) and thankfully he doesn’t have a chance to ask who Remus went home from prom with (not Mary.) He opens the door to the pizza man, actually this time.

One large cheese pizza should be enough for three, but Mary scarfs down half of the pizza herself while quizzing Sirius on his own life secrets. What did Sirius’ exes look like? Did you always know how to use curl cream or is your hair just like that? Who did you go to prom with? Who did you go home with after prom?

Sirius takes all her questions in good spirit, a cheeky grin while rambles about how technically Marsha Deada was his prom date, but they weren’t at all official so it wasn’t cheating when he brought Henry Callman home.

Remus doesn’t pretend like he’s listening this time, instead focusing his sole attention on Sirius and his light laugh when Mary sends another question his way. He even tosses in a few of his own, although he finds his questions are far more respectable than Mary’s.

“Alright, boys,” she says with a clap of her hand. “Mary is far too close to drunk, and five more seconds around all this testosterone will probably send my ovaries into shrinkage.”

“Send them to shrinkage?” Sirius asks.

“Yeah, you know, like a shrink-wrapping facility,” Mary shrugs.

“I’m not sure that’s a thing,” Remus whispers to himself. Mary hears him and tosses a pizza crust at his head.

“Are you mansplaining my ovary shrinkage?” Mary asks, appalled. She pours more wine, now their third bottle, into her can and hands it over to Remus. They both take a long sip.

“Well, not your ovaries, exactly, just the existence of a shrink-wrapping facility,” Remus mumbles.

“Mansplaining! To me, a woman, about ovaries. Ridiculous,” she scoffs.

“Maybe you can send them to a foundry. Or a paper mill. Or a lumberjack. Or a manufacturing facility,” Sirius says, using his fingers to count as he lists off different things. “A power plant, a nuclear plant, a farm plant, a - ”

Remus cuts him off, “What exactly is a foundry?”

“George Washington,” Mary says as she uses her finger to point at him.

“I’m not sure that’s right.”

“No, I think he was a founding father,” Mary says with a condescending laugh. “Like Benjamin Franklin.”

“Was Benjamin Franklin a founding father?”

“He can father my founding,” Sirius snickers.

“What was Thomas Jefferson?” Mary asks. “Was he the kite maker?”

“No, I think that was Alexander Hamilton,” Remus says.

“I want my Alexander Hamil-in-him,” Sirius laughs.

“Who was the guy with the light bulb?” Remus asks, ignoring Sirius and his continuous stream of laughter at himself.

“Mark Twain,” Mary says with a nod. “Invented lightning.”

“I want him to Mark my Twain,” Sirius giggles.

“I thought Mark Twain was the guy who got shot because he wore that really tall hat?”

“That was Samual Adam’s,” Mary says, her voice starting to slur as she takes another sip of wine.

“I’ll take one!” Sirius yells with a laugh.

“I can’t believe we failed history, Mar,” Remus says as he slouches back against his couch and finishes off the last of the wine. “Clearly we still remember lots.”

“Fraud! We were cheated!” She yells as she slams her aluminum can against his table to crush it. She stands up with a wobble, giggling as she falls back on the couch. “I think I may be unable to walk home.”

“I think you may be unable to walk,” Remus mumbles. The wine has suddenly made him hot and sleepy, his eyes narrowing as he struggles to keep them open. “Sleep in the guest room.”

“No,” she whines. “ I wanna sleep with you.”

“Woah,” Sirius says.

“Your bed is so comfy, Remus,” she continues with a bat of her eyelashes. “And you’re so snuggly and warm. Don’t make me sleep all alone in that awfully big guest bed of yours.”

Sirius’ left eye twitches, a quirk that only Remus used to be able to cause. He would always pride himself on that. Now look where they are.

“Listen here,” Sirius starts with a grumble.

“Mary, he doesn’t know when you’re joking,” Remus says with a laugh. Sirius shoots him a glare while Mary smirks behind her hands, her shoulders shaking as she laughs. “Get to bed, you menace.”

“Remus, please,” she says, dragging his name out. “Please, please, please, let me sleep with you. Let me crawl in your big bed so you can throw your big, strong arm over my tiny and delicate waist. Please, Remus?”

“See, now I know you're joking!” Sirius says with a loud bark of a laugh. “His big, strong arm? Hah!”

Remus’ smile drops from his face as he scratches at his ear and wonders how he’s now the one being made fun of. He throws the pizza crust at Sirius’ head as Mary giggles and mutters something about the ‘sisterhood of traveling pizza crusts.’

She eventually stands back up, cautiously and slowly, taking a dramatic bow when she rises with no troubles. “And you call me drunk!”

“Go to bed, Mary!” He yells.

“Alright, boys. I’m going to say this once because I love both of you. Actually, okay, I love Remus, and Sirius, well, you’re here,” she pauses and takes a deep breath. “I will be sleeping in the guest room, which is on the other side of the house, and I am a deep sleeper, and Sirius, I can’t say I have experience with you, and I do hope to keep it that way, but I know Remus is loud - ”

“Mary!” He groans, his cheeks heating without his permission.

“I’m just saying!” She says as she holds her hands up in surrender. “I don’t want any unfortunate circumstances to arise out of this. I do, however, have an early client tomorrow so you can expect I will be out of the house by 6AM. Feel free to indulge in indecent behaviors then.”

“Go to bed!”

“I’m going, I’m going! I just don’t want a repeat of freshman year in college, Remus. I couldn’t look you in the eyes for two weeks.”

“Go! To! Bed!”

“Fine! Fine! Everybody’s mad at Mary,” she says dramatically. “Oh, wait.”

“Mary.”

“No, no, this is good. Sirius, you’re kind of smart, right?”

“Well - ” Sirius smirks.

“Oh, God,” Remus groans.

“What’s embezzlement?”

“Uh,” he laughs awkwardly. “It’s basically like stealing money from a company of business. It’s kind of boring, really.”

“Fascinating,” she murmurs, sounding entirely un-fascinated. She turns on her heel and opens the door to his guest room, yelling out before slamming it shut, “Keep him around, Remus.”

***

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts: The largest Octopus in the world is the Pacific Giant Octopus. Although it is only about the size of a pea when it is born, by the time it is two years old it can be 9.1 m (30 ft) across and weigh 68.2 kg (150 lbs). Cute!

Remus: octopea.

***

Remus rolls over and hits something firm. He squeezes his eyes, blinking as he adjusts to the light. A slight throbbing plagues his head, the burning sunlight on his eyes not helping his predicament.

He blindly gropes around his bed until he finds the firm object and wildly pats at it in an attempt to figure out what it is, unable to see with his burning retinas and without his glasses. He’s far too lazy to reach over and grab them.

“Good morning to you, too.”

Remus rips his hands off the firm object - person. He rolls on his back and stares up at his ceiling fan, watching it spin around and around. The night comes back to him in a blur - Mary, seltzers, gossip, pizza that wasn’t pizza, Sirius, fancy wine, pizza that was pizza, more wine, more gossip, even more wine, Mary going to bed, Remus taking Sirius’ hand and dragging him to his bedroom, Sirius crawling back on his bed, Remus taking Sirius’ -

The person moves, shuffling around in Remus’ bed until Remus can feel small puffs of air tickling his neck. He forces himself to turn his head and look at him.

“This is usually where you’d say good morning back,” Sirius smiles.

“Good morning,” he mumbles. His eyes trail over Sirius’ face, taking in his messy hair and sleepy eyes. Sirius is impossibly close and Remus takes the time to memorize everything about him, his eyelashes and the few faint freckles painting his cheeks.

“You’re staring,” Sirius smirks. “Not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment.”

“M’not staring.”

“You were, but that’s okay. I was staring, too.”

“You were?”

“Of course I was.”

“Okay, I was staring.”

“I already knew that.”

“Yeah, but now I’m admitting it.”

“I didn’t need you to admit it. I already knew.”

“Okay, I know, but I’m admitting to doing it. Because I was.”

“Yeah, but I already knew you were. I’m the one who said you were.”

“But I said I wasn’t. And I was.”

“So, you’re a liar?”

“What? No, I - ”

“Sounds like you’re a liar.”

“I’m not a liar.”

“That’s something a liar would say.”

“God, Sirius, you really are impossible, you know that?”

“You’re the one who’s lying and I'm the impossible one?”

“It wasn’t a lie!”

“You just said it was!”

Remus huffs instead of responding. He pushes at Sirius’ shoulder so he’s lying on his back, gathers as much of his energy as he can to crawl over him, his mouth now occupied with Sirius’ tongue. Sirius’ hands roam underneath his shirt, his grip tight on Remus’ waist. Remus straddles Sirius’ hips, Sirius’ breath faltering when Remus presses himself down into his lap. He kisses down Sirius’ jaw and neck before he starts sucking a spot above his collarbone.

“Are you done being annoying?” He mumbles against Sirius’ bare chest, his eyes looking up toward Sirius.

“Never,” he breathes. “You’re my favorite person to annoy.”

“Am I?” Remus starts kissing down Sirius’ chest, moving tortuously slowly and lifting his hips so he's no longer sitting in Sirius’ lap. Sirius whines when Remus pulls back to stop kissing him entirely.

“Mmhmm,” he nods, his fingers wrapping tightly around Remus’ wrist. “Remus.”

“I don’t like to be annoyed, Sirius.”

Sirius uses a finger to gesture between Remus and himself, “This reaction says otherwise.”

“Handsome man in my bed and I’m supposed to what, ignore it?”

“You think I’m handsome?” Sirius says with a smirk. He wags his eyebrows, the tiniest blush forming high on his cheeks.

Remus rolls his eyes. “You’re sleeping in my bed. I have to think you’re at least a little bit okay-looking.”

“Okay-looking? How’d I go from handsome to okay-looking in a matter of seconds?”

“Your level of attractiveness depends heavily on my mood.”

“Mmm,” Sirius hums. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“Sometimes it does.”

“Well,” Sirius twirls a piece of his hair around his finger and bats his eyes. “What’s my level of attractiveness if I sit on your lap and make out with you?”

Remus pretends to think, squints his eyes as he stares off in the distance. “Somewhere around a five.”

“That’s awfully low.”

“It’s honest,” Remus shrugs.

“And if I suck your dick?”

“Somewhere around an eight.”

“And what about,” he leans up and whispers in Remus’ ear, “If I let you fuck me again?”

“Could be a nine,” Remus smiles, letting Sirius push him back and crawl over him. “May even be worthy of a ten.”

Sirius sits himself in Remus’ lap and scoffs. “That should break the scale.”

“Mmm,” Remus hums. “Maybe we should see if it does?”

“Are you trying to get into my pants, Mr. Lupin?”

“Desperately.”

***

Well-satiated and showered, they lay in Remus’ bed, Sirius resting his head on Remus’ chest and their legs tangled together under the sheets. Sirius dozed off for a few moments, but almost instantly sprang back awake and started rambling on about his new favorite dog at the shelter and what his plans are for the community garden - a corgi named Chippy and carrots and bell peppers.

“Sirius,” Remus mumbles, his fingers running through Sirius’ wet hair. “Is that your stomach making that noise?”

Sirius scrunches his nose and leans his head back to look up at Remus. “You can hear that?”

“I think all of Connecticut can hear that.”

“Ugh,” he groans, throwing his head back so it’s resting against Remus’ chest. “That’s so embarrassing. I don’t wanna move.”

Remus twirls a piece of Sirius’ hair around his finger and hums. “Stay then, I’ll go get you something.”

“Remus, I don’t want to move because I’m basically sitting on you. You leaving would ruin the whole reason I don’t want to move.”

“Ah, I see,” Remus nods. “So, shall I just let you wither away into nothing?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”

“Mmm, ‘fraid that doesn’t work for me. I hate having to dispose of bodies.”

Sirius reaches a hand out to smack him. “Don’t dispose of me. I’m far too worthy to be disposed of like a nobody.”

“That’s where you take offense?”

“Of course it is. If you kill me, you have to bury me somewhere nice - with a big tree and a giant headstone so everyone will walk by and know my name.”

Remus rolls his eyes, his finger idly drawing circles on Sirius’ arm. “That’s a lot of requests from a dead person.”

“I’m not dead yet. Consider it a part of my will.”

“The sounds of your stomach suggest it’ll be happening sooner rather than later.”

Sirius scoffs and gets up, struggling and tripping over himself as his leg gets tangled in the sheets. He eventually frees himself and stands up straight with a loud huff, one hand smoothing out his messy hair and the other fixing his shirt from where it’s fallen off of his shoulder.

Remus follows behind him with much more grace, out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He spots Allan asleep on his kitchen table, his favorite spot. He’s been cat-sitting while the Potters are away in Vermont, unfortunately for free. He pauses and scratches Allan behind the ear, his soft purrs filling his quiet house.

“Remus,” Sirius calls out, standing in front of his open refrigerator, “Why don’t you have any food?”

Remus leaves Allan, leaning down to drop a quick kiss against his nose, and walks over to him. His arms snake around Sirius’ waist and he rests his chin on his shoulder. He looks at the empty fridge.

“I usually just go to James and Lily’s when I’m hungry.”

“For every meal?”

“Yeah, basically.”

Sirius closes the fridge and turns around so he’s facing Remus, Remus’ hands still wrapped loosely around his waist. “That’s ridiculous.”

Remus shrugs. He toys with the hem of Sirius’ t-shirt, occasionally letting his fingers brush against the soft skin of Sirius’ back. “They like to feed me.”

“They probably think you’ll starve if no one else does.”

“I cat-sit for them all the time,” Remus gestures to Allan, who’s still spread out all across his table, “So it’s an equal trade-off.”

“It is most certainly not.”

“They never complain.”

“So, if I want something to eat, do I have to put clothes on and go to James and Lily’s?”

Remus drops his hands from Sirius and walks to his pantry, which is also bare. “Uh, yeah. Looks like it. Unless you want a can of beans?”

“They left for Vermont, will they even have food?”

“This is James you’re talking about. I’d be more surprised if there’s not some freshly baked loaves of bread or some type of slow-roasted pork in the fridge.”

“Yeah, alright,” Sirius huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. “Go get my pants, we’ll raid the Potters for food.”

“You telling me you don’t want to walk across the street in your boxers?” Remus calls out as he leaves his kitchen and heads back to his room.

“I can’t scar Caroline and her good sensibilities,” Sirius yells from the kitchen. Remus shuffles through his room, sorting through the pile of discarded clothes on his floor until he finds Sirius’ pants.

“You think Caroline would be scarred by seeing you walk around the neighborhood in your boxers? She’d probably ask you to stay put so she can run to go get her camera.” Remus walks back to his kitchen and hands him his pants, Sirius grabbing them with a dramatic flourish.

“Caroline is a smart woman.”

“That she is,” Remus nods seriously. Sirius finishes putting his pants on and Remus moves closer to him, letting his fingers play with his waistband. “Maybe I should take note from Caroline.”

Sirius hums, his hands wrapping around Remus’ waist. “I don’t think you should. Caroline doesn’t speak to her husband - and they live in the same house.”

Remus leans down and kisses him, slow and gentle. Sirius leans into the kiss, his tongue brushing against Remus’ bottom lip.

He pulls away and brushes a hair out of Sirius’ face. “She’s a woman who doesn’t need a man.”

“What she needs is food other than a can of beans.”

“I think that’s what Sirius needs, Caroline needs a divorce.”

“Sirius does need food other than a can of beans,” Sirius mumbles, dropping his arms off of Remus, grabbing him by the hand, and dragging him toward his front door.

They sneak into the Potters house through the backyard, snatching up a small collection of food to bring back to Remus’ house. James had, in fact, slow-roasted a chicken and left it in the fridge with a purple post-it note that reads ‘Remus - Eat This. Don’t Starve.” There were no loaves of freshly baked bread, but a dozen blueberry muffins with a similar post-it featuring a frowny face and ‘Remus - I Didn’t Have Chocolate Chips.’

Remus is mildly upset about this, of course, but Sirius beams when he realizes the muffins are blueberry, so he gets over his upset pretty quickly.

They steal a bag of chips and some of Harry’s banana-flavored Puffs (with a purple post it: ‘Remus - You Are Stealing From a CHILD’) before heading back to Remus’ house, Allan meowing at the front door when they walk in.

Remus bends down to scratch his head, a terrible attempt because his hands are full of stolen food. Sirius drops his handful of food on the kitchen counter, Remus following suit - a large mess of food piling up on the counter.

“I say we secured a decent meal,” Sirius nods, looking through their collection of food.

“Yeah, for stolen goods,” Remus mutters.

They make themselves a plate of food, an odd collection of roasted chicken, blueberry muffins, Puffs, tangerines, and green peppers. They eat on the couch, Remus not having the heart to make Allan move away from his favorite place to lay, Remus’ kitchen table.

They watch reruns of Jeopardy while they eat, Remus and Sirius competing to see who can answer each question the fastest (Remus usually winning) (Sirius usually claiming it’s because his mouth was full) (Remus usually making a joke about filling his mouth) (Sirius usually slapping him on the leg.)

“Clingstone and Freestone are the two main classifications for this fruit, once called a Persian apple,” Alex Trebeck, the Jeopardy host, asks the contestants.

“What is a peach?” Remus answers.

“Peaf!” Sirius mumbles, muffin crumbs falling out of his mouth.

One of the contestants, a short girl named Carrie, gets the correct answer first, “What is a peach?”

“I win again,” Remus gloats. “What does that make me? Fifteen to two?”

“I’ve answered them all!”

“After me, which still makes me the winner,” Remus smiles. He sets his empty plate down (also stolen from James and Lily) and kicks his feet up on his coffee table. “Never took you as a sore loser.”

“I am not a sore loser because I am not a loser. I’ve answered all the questions correctly!” Sirius huffs.

“I’ve still answered them first.”

“Because I’m eating! My mouth is full!”

“I’ll make your - ”

“Shut it! It was funny once.”

“It was funny each time, you’re just being a sore loser and pouting.”

“I am so not pouting.”

“Might as well call you Harry with the tantrum you’re throwing.”

“Tantrum!?”

“You heard me.”

“Yes, we’ve gathered I don’t need hearing aids. Now let’s check on your cognitive function.”

“My cognitive function is just fine, thank you.”

“I don’t think it is. I think your head needs help.”

“My head needs help?”

“Yes.”

“How does my head need help?”

“Figure it out!”

“How can you tell me my head needs help and then tell me to figure it out?”

“I just can, Remus!”

“That’s not how it works, Sirius!”

Sirius scrambles from his end of the couch, throwing himself over to the end where Remus is sitting. He sits himself in Remus’ lap and shoves his tongue down Remus’ throat in one fluid motion. Remus takes the hint, fingers gripping into Sirius’ ass and shifting him so he’s better straddling Remus’ waist, his knees on either side of Remus’ hips.

“You really do annoy me,” Sirius breathes, his mouth not moving from Remus’. A sloppy and wet lick along Remus’ jaw as Sirius pushes his hips forward. Remus can feel his cock twitching, already starting to get hard and strain against his pants. He pulls Sirius’ pants down in quick movements, struggling to get them off with his refusal to make Sirius get off his lap. He succeeds eventually, pulling on Sirius’ hips so he’s closer, crazy with the feeling of his cock brushing against him.

“How come?” He murmurs, his tongue leaving wet strips along Sirius’ neck. He breathes hot and heavy against the soft skin behind Sirius’ ear, a loose attempt at a kiss.

“You’re so fucking - God, annoying,” Sirius stifles his moan as he ruts his hips against Remus, his cold fingers starting to slide up Remus’ chest. “The way you talk and eat and exist.”

“The way I exist?”

“Annoying,” Sirius moans, his hips moving in frantic circles as Remus sucks a spot behind his ear. “Maddening.”

“What do you want?” He asks, sticking his fingers out for Sirius to lick. He does, sucking on two of his fingers. “Sirius.”

“Fuck,” he groans as Remus pushes his hips up to brush against Sirius’ hard cock. “Remus, please.”

“Please what, Sirius?”

Sirius leans forward, his head pushing against the back of the couch as his hips continue to frantically move. Sirius’ hard cock repeatedly brushes against Remus, the rise and fall of his hips bringing him closer without any help. His ass brushes against Remus’ hard cock each time he moves, a teasing and maddening sensation that Remus would have to be insane to complain about.

“Want you,” he gasps, his head slightly moving so his mouth can press against Remus’ skin. He licks and sucks, light marks forming against Remus’ tan skin. “Need you.”

“For?” Remus says as he gently trails his finger over Sirius’ hard cock, straining and leaking in his boxers.

“For baking a fucking cake, fuck, Remus, what the Hell do you think?” He groans. “God, just, would you just fucking touch me?”

Remus obliges, unable to resist Sirius and his breathy moans and desperation. He shoves a hand into Sirius’ boxes, moaning when he wraps his hand around his cock and twists his wrist. Sirius is wet with precome, a perfect mess as Remus moves his hand up and down his cock, his mouth latched onto Sirius’ neck.

“Oh, God,” Sirius moans. “Fuck, just like that. Perfect, good, good. Yeah.”

Remus bucks his hips up, brushing against Sirius’ cock as his hand continues to work him. He works his hand over his cock for a minute, reveling in each and every small gasp and moan that Sirius lets out. A finger brushes against the head of his cock, rubbing gentle circles against his slit.

“Remus, fuck,” he whines. “Please. Please, I’m gonna come.”

Remus’ front door bangs against the wall, someone strolling in while singing, “Honey! I’m home!”

Sirius bolts up in surprise and starts to scramble to get off Remus’ lap, his arms flailing and his feet tripping over Remus’ legs. Remus is no help, unable to focus on anything except the screaming in the background, “My eyes! My eyes!”

“Oh, shut up! You didn’t see anything,” Sirius yells, blindly reaching out to find his pants that Remus threw.

“My eyes! My eyes!”

“James, honey, calm down,” Lily puts a gentle hand on his shoulder, both of James’ hands still being used to cover his eyes.

“My sensibilities! My virtue! My innocence! My pure mind!”

“‘Pure mind’ my ass,” Sirius grumbles, now pulling his pants up over his legs. “Harry is three years old and that marriage license of yours is only two and a half.”

“I go away to Vermont for a couple of days and the two of you are bumping uglies! What happened?! Last time you were together you were going to kill each other!”

“Hey, why’d you come back from Vermont?” Remus asks, still sitting on his couch but now with a decorative pillow on his lap to cover…himself. “You weren’t supposed to be back until Wednesday?”

“Oh, Remus, you won’t believe it,” James starts, sitting down next to him and crossing his legs. “Vermont sucks! We got there and I was so totally bored, so we came back. I missed you so much.”

“James cried when he saw a deer,” Lily pipes up, also sitting down on the couch. Sirius sits a second later, leaving a decent amount of space between him and Remus.

“Oh,” James coos. “You should have seen it - what a beauty. It was a papa and a mama and a baby deer, a little deer family. I love them.”

“He’s got three thousand photos of them.”

James nods enthusiastically, reaching a hand out toward Lily so she can hand him her phone. “They were eating grass. And then they were eating weeds. Oh! And a bird landed on the back of the papa deer. And, you’ll never believe it, we saw a rat!”

“You saw a rat?” Remus asks.

“With the deer! Their own personal pet rat. How adorable?” James passes around Lily’s phone so they can look at the pictures, literally a thousand photos of the deer family.

“Very cute, James.” Sirius hands him the phone back.

“Hold on,” Lily holds her hand up, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She gestures between Remus and Sirius, two feet of couch in between them. “Don’t distract us. What is this?”

Remus chances a glance toward Sirius, who’s looking at him out of the corner of his eye. They both look away instantly, Remus staring down at his socked feet. They’ve got lemons on them today.

“Oh my god,” Lily mumbles. “It so is.”

“You owe me fifty bucks!” Lily and James yell.

“No!” James yells. “You said before Vermont!”

“I did not! I said during Vermont! You said before Vermont!” Lily yells.

“No, I said two weeks after the date. It’s been two weeks!”

“I said two weeks! You said it would only take a week!”

“Why would I say that? I would never say that.”

“You so very much would because you so very much did.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Um,” Sirius tries to cut in.

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“You’re both wrong!” Sirius yells. James and Lily stop pointing their angry fingers at each other, turning to face Sirius with impressive scowls.

“What?” Lily asks harshly.

“You’re both wrong,” Sirius repeats. “…It wasn’t two weeks or a week after the date.”

“Wasn’t a date,” Remus mumbles. Sirius sends him a glare. His cheeks are flushed and he’s got a slight shine of sweat against his forehead. Remus resists the urge to wipe it away, or lick it.

“It was a couple days after?” James asks. “Because I put another bet on four days after, so…”

“I put a bet on five days after so be sure you’re specific about that date,” Lily nods.

“It wasn’t…it wasn’t four or five days after,” Sirius mumbles.

“Day three!” James yells with his fist pumped in the air. “I win!”

“He didn’t say!” Lily yells, reaching over to pull James’ arm down. “Sirius, tell him it wasn’t day three. It wasn’t day three, right?”

“It wasn’t day three…”

James moves his head between Sirius and Lily. “One or two days after the date? We didn’t bet on one or two days. Lily, did we bet on one or two days?”

Lily shakes her head, her eyes narrow and her eyebrow furrows in confusion. “No, no we didn’t. We both thought that was too soon after the date.”

“Not a date.”

“Well…it wasn’t quite one or two days after.”

It takes a minute for the pieces to fall into place, Lily squinting as she tries to make sense of what he means. A few seconds later and her mouth drops, her eyes widen, and she gasps.

“You dirty boys!” She squeals.

James still looks confused, the poor boy, glancing between Sirius and Remus with a dopey smile and his eyebrows furrowed. He blinks a couple times, his smile slowly dropping as he figures it out. It takes him several seconds - several seconds of complete silence - until he gasps loudly.

“You two!” He yells. “Together! Night one! Together! Oh boy!” He laughs.

“It’s not a big deal,” Sirius grumbles, a beautiful light pink blush staining his cheeks. Remus smiles softly at him, taking in everything from his messy hair to his still-flushed cheeks. Lily catches him, winking and grinning with a small shake of her head.

“It’s also personal,” Remus says with a raise of his eyebrows. James waves a dismissive hand and laughs loudly. Sirius scoots a little closer to Remus on the couch, only a couple inches now between them. Remus reaches over and rests a hand on his thigh, lower than he would like to but they have company.

Sirius looks up at him and smiles softly, his eyes so pretty in the filtered sunlight coming through Remus’ windows. Remus thinks they’re pretty always, but they look especially stunning right now, big and wide and looking up at Remus. He wants to kick them out, James and Lily. He’s busy and they’re here and he loves them, but they need to leave.

“Oh, Sirius, by the way, I don’t need you to babysit Harry on Thursday anymore,” James says with a snap of his fingers.

“Oh,” Lily pipes up, snuggling tightly underneath James’ arm. “Rem, I also don’t need you to babysit Harry on Thursday.”

Remus furrows his eyebrows and scratches his head. “Wait - ”

“And that movie we were gonna go to on Friday together?” James asks and Sirius nods, a small and confused frown on his face. “Yeah, I was never gonna go so you can cancel that too.”

“Mmhm,” Lily nods. “Rem, same goes for me.”

Remus blinks. “Hold on - ”

“Saturday we were planning on going blueberry picking with Harry, remember? Yeah, so I have on good authority that he’ll have diarrhea that day so…feel free to make other plans.”

Lily looks over at him with a nod, “Did you get that, Rem?”

“Okay, what the hell?”

“I know we said we’d go to Hogsmeade on Sunday and hit up that big farmers market, but yeah, that was a lie so…scratch that plan too.”

“Remus, you can probably just listen to James and apply whatever he says to whatever I’ve told you,” Lily smiles at him.

“Now, just a second - ”

“Yeah,” James sighs. “And Monday - ”

“Okay! We get it,” Sirius grumbles. “Your stupid plan would’ve never worked, by the way.”

“No,” Lily laughs. “No, our stupid plan would have definitely worked.”

“Yeah,” James smiles widely, “The first half already did.”

“What first half?” Remus asks firmly.

“Shit,” James mumbles, his eyes wide and apologetic. He looks frantically between Remus and Lily, his eyes growing wider each time he moves his head. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you about that.”

“Way to go, you berk!” Lily slaps him on the leg with a roll of her eyes.

“I forgot!” James yells and puts a hand to his heart. “There’s so much going on in my brain, Lily!”

“Doubtful,” Sirius mutters.

“It was a simple mistake! A mishap! I didn’t mean it!”

“You are a mishap!” Lily rolls her eyes.

“We don’t have to tell them!” James whispers, loudly. “Just pretend like we don’t know. I didn’t even say anything about the festival!”

Remus and Sirius look at each other, one with an eyebrow raised and the other with an eyebrow furrowed. Sirius tilts his head in question and Remus shrugs. A silent conversation, one that Remus didn’t even know they could do.

“You idiot! They aren’t supposed to know about that part!” She whispers aggressively.

“I forgot! Maybe they didn’t hear me.”

“We heard you,” Remus chimes in, his arms crossed over his chest. “Now we want to hear you explain.”

“Explain what?” James says, his voice shrill and squeaky. “How much we love our two best friends? And how happy we are that they’re smooching?”

“Smooching?” Sirius whispers to himself.

“James.”

“Fine! God, okay, pry it out of me, why don’t you?” James dramatically throws his hands up in surrender. “We rigged it.”

“Rigged it?”

“Rigged it,” James nods. “The festival.”

“The festival?”

“The festival,” James smiles tightly. “We rigged the festival.”

“You rigged the festival?”

“We rigged the festival.”

“James,” Remus sighs, dropping his head into his hands and squeezing his eyes shut. “What does that even mean?”

“The raffle.”

Remus slowly lifts his head from his hand, the realization setting in. “The raffle?”

“The raffle.”

“You rigged the raffle?”

“We rigged the raffle.”

“You rigged the raffle. The raffle that Lily,” Remus gestures to Lily, who’s nervously chewing on her lip with wide apologetic eyes, “Entered me in?”

“That’s the one,” James mumbles.

“The raffle that Lily entered me in with the prize of a free dinner with Sirius?”

“Mmhmm.”

“The raffle that Lily entered me in with the prize of a free dinner with Sirius, that I won?”

“Yeah, that sounds familiar.”

“James!”

“Don’t be mad at me! It wasn’t my idea! It was only half my idea! I didn’t mean to!”

“You didn’t mean to?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!”

“Never in my life did I think I’d see a day that James Fleamont Potter cheats…” Sirius muses.

“I didn’t cheat!” James points an angry finger at him. “I just…pre-arranged a winner.”

“There’s six-thousand wine-moms that’ll disagree with you,” Lily mumbles.

“You helped!” James moves his angry finger over to Lily. “It was your idea!”

“It was a joke!”

“But it was still your idea! And it was a good idea!”

Lily opens her mouth, ready to argue back, but closes it and instead says, “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” James laughs. “Totally worked. I mean, you thought I was crazy for thinking they’d do it after five days, and look at our little overachievers! The night of!”

“Forced proximity!” Lily cheers. “We’re like matchmakers, James. Who should we do next?”

“Peter and Emma have been tiptoeing around each other for months, how about - ”

“No! No, no, no,” Sirius shakes his head. “You two are unbelievable!”

Lily averts her eyes and looks down at her shoes, the decency to look a little bit ashamed and embarrassed. James smiles widely.

“Sirius!” He coos. “You’re unbelievable, too. And, I don’t know if I said it, but I’m so happy for you! I kept telling you it wasn’t a big deal and that Remus would like you back.”

“Oh, really?” Remus turns to Sirius, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Sirius glares at James and points to the front door, “Get out.”

Chapter Text

“Is everybody decent?” A loud voice calls through Remus’ now open front door. “Pull your pants up. I’ve seen enough.”

“Why would you give him a key?” Sirius mutters as he harshly sets his coffee cup down on the kitchen counter.

“I didn’t,” Remus grumbles. “He made one himself.”

“James is entering! James is entering the vicinity! Pants must be in place on waists when James enters the house! James is entering - ”

“Oh, would you shut the fuck up?”

“I’m just trying to preserve my modesty,” James says as he casually strolls into the kitchen, a hand held up to his heart. “Or, what little of my modesty I have left after a certain occurrence the other day.”

“An occurrence that took place behind closed doors in my locked house,” Remus says with a raised eyebrow. James has the decency to blush, but it doesn’t last long. He smiles at Sirius and steals his coffee cup, grimacing when he takes a sip.

“Come, come, sit,” he says as he wraps his fingers around Sirius’ wrist and drags him out of the kitchen and to the living room. “We’ve discussions to have.”

Remus follows behind them, plopping down next to Sirius on the couch. James slings his legs up on Remus’ coffee table, almost knocking Sirius’ coffee off. “How’d you even know there was a possibility of someone being indecent?”

“I watched Sirius enter your house two minutes ago,” James shrugs.

“And you thought we’d be indecent in two minutes?” Sirius asks with a laugh.

“Stop watching my house!”

James grins at them, teeth white and bright. Remus sometimes wonders if James also got veneers from Gilderoy Lockhart, but he reckons probably not. James isn’t that pretentious. And he made fun of Daniel for getting veneers all the time.

James crosses his ankles and lets a serious expression plague his face. “So, it’s time for us to have a chat. A bro-brief. A dude-discussion. A companion-conversation. An associate-analysis. A mate-meet - ”

“James, I will get my locks changed.”

“Right! To the point. We need to dude-discuss this new dude-development the two of you have…dude-developed.”

Remus glances at Sirius out of the corner of his eye. Sirius is glancing back at him and nervously chewing at his lip. “What exactly do we need to discuss?”

“Dude-discuss. And the nature of your romance-relationship.”

Sirius coughs. Remus clears his throat.

“Oh god, you nitwits. You haven’t even discussed this?” James leans his head back against the couch and groans. “Okay, Uncle Jamie is here.”

“You’re not an uncle,” Sirius mumbles.

“Sirius, how do you feel about your potential-paramour Mr. Remus Lupin?” James asks as he dons his most impressive performance as a therapist.

Sirius splutters, switching between scoffing and letting out mumbled vowels. “I…ugh. And, well, pfft. You…I. It’s…hmmf.”

“And I the same,” Remus says with a hand to his heart. Sirius reaches over to slap him on the thigh, causing a loud splat that echoes through his house.

“Okay, this is going to be harder than I thought,” James mumbles. He digs in his pockets to pull out his phone - some old red flip phone from the early 2000s. It takes him longer than reasonable, his attention set fully on his tiny keyboard as his big thumbs slowly push the little buttons. An eternity later and he slams his flip phone shut and looks up at them with a wide grin.

The front door bangs open twenty seconds later.

Lily.

“I’m here,” she yells. “I was waiting outside. Okay, I was eavesdropping. You have really thin walls, Remus.”

“I’m going to move.”

Lily smiles sweetly as she sits down next to James on the couch. She lifts his legs up from the coffee table and shoves them back on the floor before using her hand to wipe away the dirt his shoes left on the table.

“From what I could hear you didn’t even make it to question one?” Lily asks James.

“Not even question one,” James answers dramatically.

“God, it’s worse than we thought.”

“I know. They’re both so out of touch. Emotionally unavailable.”

“Yes,” she nods. “And stunted. Must be a trauma thing.”

“Oh, well you know all about Sirius and - ”

“Okay, we’re sitting right here,” Sirius scoffs.

“What the Hell do you mean trauma thing?” Remus asks.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Lily says as she reaches over to pat his cheek. Remus bats her hand away and scowls at her.

“So, let’s get back to business!” James says with a clap of his hands. “Question One: Sirius, how do you feel about your potential-paramour, Mr. Remus Lupin?”

“This is humiliating,” Sirius whispers.

“We could just leave,” Remus whispers back.

“This is your house.”

“You have a house.”

“I do,” Sirius gasps. “We should go to it.”

“Yes, yes we should.”

“Hey, yeah, so we can hear you,” James says with a firm nod and his hand held in the air.

“Shall we?” Remus asks.

“We shall,” Sirius says.

Remus reaches over to grab his hand as they weave around James and Lily's legs to make it to his front door. “Lock it on your way out,” he yells as the door slams behind him.

***

Remus leans his head back and glances up at the dark night sky. The moon is high in the sky and the stars are bright. A faint and repetitive owl is their soundtrack for the night.

He sighs as Sirius runs his hand through his hair. He pushes further back against Sirius’ firm chest, smiling to himself when he hears Sirius laugh, and leans over to press a soft kiss against his cheek. He sighs and closes his eyes.

“Bit chilly,” Sirius whispers.

“I’m warm,” Remus mumbles.

“Well, you’re wearing two sweatshirts and two pairs of wool socks.”

“You made fun of my wool socks but look who’s chilly now,” Remus smirks. “I can give you your jacket back.”

“No, wear it. It looks cute on you.”

“Are leather jackets supposed to be cute? I thought they were manly and rebellious?”

“Maybe you're just cute.”

“Trying to get in my pants, are you?”

“Would I find a second pair of pants if I did?”

Remus laughs and pats his thighs as if to inspect. “Only one pair of pants.”

Sirius gasps, “Slag.”

Remus tilts his head back and smiles up at Sirius, who’s smiling down at him. Sirius leans down and kisses him, a chaste and gentle thing that makes his heart stumble as if he’d lost his footing on the stairs. Sirius pulls back after a second and cups his jaw, his cheeks flushed from the cold or something else.

“Did you get what you needed?” Remus asks, shifting his head back again so it’s resting against Sirius’ chest. Sirius’ arms go back around his shoulders, his cold fingers interlocking with Remus’. He stretches his legs out, his blue jeans stark against Sirius’ black jeans.

“Yeah, it should be good. Jupiter only comes out every once in a while, you know. Got lots of pictures though, and Dorcas said she’ll print ‘em off for free.”

“I didn’t know you knew astronomy. Or photography,” Remus muses.

“I’m a man of many hobbies, Remus.”

“I’ve learned.”

“Thanks for coming with me,” he whispers. It’s quiet, but so is the Godric’s Hollow Park at 8PM.

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“There you guys are!”

Remus startles, his head whipping to find the culprit of the new voice.

“We were looking everywhere for you two!”

“Well, we looked at Remus’ house and then we went to Sirius’s and now we’re here. We were actually on our way to Fabian’s but then we spotted you two! What a coincidence!”

“Yeah, when you stalk someone you do tend to find them,” Remus mutters.

“You guys look so cute and cuddly,” James coos. “Lily, give me your phone! Give me your phone!”

Lily hands him her phone - an actual, current cellphone that can take photos - and James grins as he takes their picture. James flips the phone to show them the photo, Remus bundled up, sitting in between Sirius’ legs, their faces in shades of matching murderous glares.

“Adorable,” Sirius grumbles.

“So,” Lily says as she gently sits down in the grass, on the tiny corner of Remus’ blanket. Remus glares at her, but she just smiles. “We never finished our talk.”

“Yes.”

“There was a reason for that,” Remus says.

“Aw, Lils! They finish each other's sentences!”

“Stay on topic, James!” Lily says with pointed eyes.

“Oh, right! Right.” James digs in his back pocket and pulls out a folded lined sheet of paper. He unfolds it, and unfolds it, and unfolds it. Every inch is covered in tiny blue ink, every line and margin scribbled in. “We have some questions.”

“What the fuck.”

“How many!?”

“Uh…” James squints at the paper, “I don’t think we counted. Lily, did we count?”

“No, I don’t think we did. We should have. Why didn’t we count?”

“I don’t know, we should have counted. Do you guys have time? We can count them.”

Remus glances up at Sirius with wide and scared eyes. Sirius runs soothing circles on the back of his hand and leans in close to whisper, “Follow my lead.”

Remus nods instantly.

“Lily, is this one or two questions?”

“Uh, let me see. Oh, okay. Yeah, that's a part A and part B question. So…technically two, but also only one.”

“Huh. How should we count those? Only one or two? What do you think?”

“I mean it’s technically only one.”

Sirius slowly starts to scoot away from Remus, the cold air against his back an unwelcome guest, along with the two actual unwelcome guests. Sirius scoots back far enough to get up, very quietly and slowly. James and Lily are still debating whether Part A and B questions count as one or two (it’s obviously one) when Sirius reaches his hand out to Remus to help him up.

Sirius keeps his hand interlocked with Remus as they slowly back away, their picnic basket and blanket left behind. Sirius leaves his telescope and camera, whispering that James will clean it all up and return it to them.

The Part A and B argument is growing harsher and harsher as they sneak away, Lily’s voice growing louder in the quiet night. By the time they reach Sirius’ motorcycle James and Lily have somehow landed on whether or not True or False questions should count (obviously they should.) The rev of the engine is the only thing that shuts them up, both of their heads snapping up and whipping in their direction.

Sirius waves goodbye before peeling out of the parking lot.

***

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! Today, Fresh and Saltwater aquarium fish are the most popular pets in the U.S. Approximately 12 million households own aquariums. Fish Are Friends!

Remus: woof

***

There are glass shards all over his floor.

Large and small pieces litter his hardwood floors, the cream color stark against the dark wood. He carefully tiptoes around on his socked feet, trying to ensure he doesn’t step on a piece and sever his foot. He thinks he has a broom.

“I’m so sorry,” Sirius says again. “I - God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Remus mumbles. Sirius reaches out and grabs his wrists to help him maneuver over the shards. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not, it’s not. I broke it! God, I can’t - I’m so sorry.”

“Sirius,” he laughs. “It’s fine, really.”

“No, no,” Sirius shakes his head. “I’ll make it up to you, yeah? Where’s your broom? I’ll clean it. Maybe I can glue it back together.”

“Definitely don’t do that,” Remus smiles. “I duct-taped a lamp back together once and Lily still makes fun of me for it.”

“Well, yeah, that’s reasonable,” Sirius scoffs. “Who duct tapes stuff to fix it, Remus? Glue.”

Remus blinks. “You just broke my vase and now you’re making fun of me?”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius whines. “I am, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t on purpose, promise.”

“I’d hope not. That’d be quite the feat to get in my pants and gain my trust and be allowed in my house only just to break my favorite vase.”

“Your favorite vase?” He asks, voice hoarse.

“My favorite vase,” Remus says sadly.

“Where’d you get it?” Sirius asks instantly. “I’ll buy it. I’ll replace it.”

“It’s irreplaceable,” Remus sniffs, sadly and pathetically kicking at the shards piled up on the floor.

Sirius watches him, eyes wide and cheeks pink. “Don’t, Remus, oh my God. I already feel bad!”

“It was a one-of-a-kind,” Remus sighs. He reaches down to pick up a large shard, twisting it over in his hand and tracing the painted flower design. “From a local artist.”

“Who?” Sirius asks urgently. “Who made it? I’ll find them, I’ll ask them to make another! I know all the artists in town, they’ll do it! I’ll pay them. Do you have a picture of it? They’ll remake it. I’ll make them.”

Remus looks down dejectedly at Sirius, almost breaks his act when he sees just how sorry Sirius is - his big, wide eyes and worried frown hitting Remus straight in the heart. “He hasn’t made anything in years. I’ve been on a waiting list at Dorcas’ ever since I moved here.”

Sirius’ head snaps up to look him in the eyes, his frown briefly flickering into a half-smile. “What?”

“He’s a super popular artist and sold all kinds of things at Dorcas’, but he hasn’t made anything in years, so I doubt you’d ever be able to make him make you something.”

Sirius’ apologetic attitude is gone within seconds, quickly and easily replaced with a loud and booming laugh. He’s keeled over, giggling and giggling. Eventually, he has to sit back down on the couch, his arm clenched around his stomach and his face flushed bright red. He wipes a tear away from his eyes and sighs.

“Care to explain?” Remus says with a small smile.

“Pads.”

Remus stops smiling.

“Pads is the name of the artist, right?”

“How…” Remus mumbles. “That’s - ”

“Me.”

“You?”

“Me,” Sirius nods. “Pads. I’m Pads.”

“…No.”

Sirius quirks his head to the side, a faint and confused smile. “Well, yes.”

“Uh-uh.”

“Yup.”

“No.”

“Saying ‘no’ doesn’t change the facts.”

“Please, no.”

Sirius shakes his head, smiling sadly. “It’s still true, I fear.”

“How?”

“Well, I made a couple things - wanted to give pottery a go, wasn’t my favorite - but Dorcas liked them so she put them in her shop to sell, and whaddya know, people liked them,” he shrugs. “I never gave pottery another try, but I guess I’ll have to now.”

“How?”

“Are you broken?”

“How’d I end up with it?”

“I’m imagining you bought it? Unless you stole it, in which case I won’t bother making you a new one.”

“You made it.”

“Are you experiencing any paralysis in half of your body? Lift both of your arms up.”

Remus immediately lifts both of his arms up, although he’s not exactly sure why. “What is this?”

“I’m making sure you’re not having a stroke.”

Remus drops both of his arms down, his hands hitting his thighs with a loud smack. He shuffles over the shards of pottery and flops down on the couch next to Sirius. “I can’t believe you made my favorite vase.”

“I can’t believe the vase I made is your favorite vase,” Sirius smiles. “You need better taste.”

“I know,” Remus agrees easily. “Especially considering you're here.”

“Hey!”

“Hey!” James yells as he opens Remus’ front door and strolls in.

“Yes, please, Jamie, come on in! The door wasn’t locked for any reason, just go ahead and ignore that and come on in!” Remus grumbles.

“Thanks,” James grins. He joins them on the couch, choosing to sit in the small space between Remus and Sirius instead of the large open space on the other side of the couch. Their shoulders brush and Remus bites his tongue. An awkward silence fills the room for a couple moments until James clears his throat, “Have I interrupted something?”

“Gee, what makes you think that?” Remus asks.

“Things just seem a little tense, is all,” James says with a judgmental flick of his eyes. He picks at the skin around his fingernail before gasping, “Your vase!”

“Yes,” Remus sighs. “There was an accident.”

“Your favorite vase! Remus! How could this happen? You take such good care of it!”

Sirius stares sheepishly at the pile of shards, using his toe to push a large piece closer into the pile. James stands with his hands on his hips, a disappointed frown on his face that could rival those of millions of dads.

Eventually, he leaves the living room in a huff, muttering something under his breath. He opens and closes a couple doors before yelling, “Remus! Where is your broom?”

“…I don’t have one.”

More muttering under his breath and James opens and slams the front door, returning less than a minute later with his own pink broom. He sweeps the shards into a small little pile and starts scooping them up in his dustpan.

“I knew I shouldn’t try and do this without Lily,” James mumbles as he sweeps more pieces into the dustpan. “You’d be getting pottery shards to the gut if she were to clean this up.”

“That’s what you get for breaking into my house,” Remus shrugs. He has no doubt that Lily would shank him using his own pottery shards, James not so much.

“I didn’t break in!”

“I think making your own key to my house would count as breaking in.”

“I made that key ages ago and you never changed the locks!”

“Why didn’t you change the locks?” Sirius cuts in to ask.

Remus chews on his lip, glancing up to see James and Sirius staring at him expectantly. “James would use it to drop off food,” he mumbles.

“You didn’t change them because you wanted his food!?”

“Aw,” James coos. “And look where we are now!”

“Hell?”

James scoffs and scoops the last of the shards into the dustpan, moving carefully throughout Remus’ living room and to his kitchen.

“How’d it even break?” He asks as he empties the dustpan into the garbage. “Remus would just about have an aneurysm if you even tried to breathe too close to his precious one-of-a-kind vase.”

Sirius’ eyes flick up to meet Remus’, twin smiles and cheeks in matching shades of red. James drops the dustpan with a thud and groans.

“Oh, God,” James whines. “A sex accident? Seriously?”

***

Mary’s pink fluffy socks shuffle across the floor as she walks into his living room, one large bottle of wine clasped tightly in her hand. She takes a swig straight from the bottle and plops down on the couch, coming precariously close to sloping red wine on his nice (old) sofa.

“It’s a misery, Remus,” she whines, kicking her feet up and on his coffee table. She knocks over a box of tissues and an empty beer can, but he tries hard not to focus on that. “My life is straight out of a sitcom. And I don’t even get paid for it!”

“It’s not that bad,” he tries.

“I go on my first date in years in an effort to get over my hot neighbor, and who is it! My hot neighbor!”

“Well…” he starts, shifting on the couch so no longer sliding off. Mary is taking up well over half of the space, but she’s having a crisis so he allows it. “At least you know she’s into women?”

“Doesn’t help!” She says as she tosses a pillow at his head. “It was a blind date, Remus! A blind date! Blind!”

“So, remind me, could you see on this date?”

“Blind!” She yells. “Put two and two together for me. Emmeline rejects me and my confession of love, Emmeline breaks up with her fiancée, Emmeline doesn’t contact me after said break up, Emmeline gets set up on a blind date, Emmeline’s blind date ends up being me. She doesn’t want to date me!”

“That’s way more than two and two…” he mumbles.

“She didn’t want to date me when she knew I was me! When she knew who she was dating, it was silent. But suddenly she’s on a blind date and she’s ready to be single and mingle!? It’s gotta be me! She doesn’t want to date me!”

“Mary,” he sighs. “You’re putting two and two together and ending up with eleven.”

“Explain it! Explain it to me, Remus. Imagine it! She doesn’t want to date me.”

“Did she go running for the hills when you showed up for the blind date?”

“…No.”

“Did she sit there and eat dinner with you and talk with you all evening?”

“…Yes.”

“Did she yell and scream and say she never wanted to see you again?”

“No.”

“Did she walk you home?”

“That’s not fair - we live right next to each other!”

“Did she walk you home?”

“Yes.”

“It’s love,” he shrugs.

“It is not love!” She takes another sip of wine, dramatically using the bottle to gesture. “It’s a mistake, is what it is. I should be banging down the door across the street. Lily got me into this mess in the first place.”

“Hello hello,” a voice yells out. His front door shuts with a slam and Remus vaguely wonders when the day will come that he has to replace it. “Your favorite person is here!”

“Beyoncè?”

“James!”

“Get out of my house,” Remus yells from the couch. He can hear James’ shoes stomping against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to join them on the couch, a big grin on his face and Lily trailing right behind him.

“Oh,” he frowns. “You’re not Sirius.”

“And thank God for that,” Mary scoffs. She takes a hearty swig of wine and shoves the bottle in Remus' direction. “I love you, Remus, but I do not want that thing of yours anywhere near me.”

“Thing?” Remus mutters.

“Your dick.”

“Oh, Mary!”

“Hey, I’m just telling it how it is!”

Lily stares at her for a brief and silent second before facing Remus and smiling, “Where is he, then?”

“Who?”

“Sirius!” She says with a laugh. “He’s here.”

“What makes you think that?”

“We watched him walk in through the front door about…” James mumbles as he checks his watch. He’s not wearing a watch. “Three hours ago.”

“And, what, do you think I’m keeping him hostage?”

“Up for debate. So, where is he?”

“In his cell down in the basement.”

“You don’t have a basement,” James says with a smile. “Is he in your room? I’ll go get him!”

“He left when Mary came over.”

“I didn’t see him leave,” James mumbles through a frown. “When did he leave?”

“When Mary came over.”

“Mary!” He scolds.

“I’m in crisis!” She whines.

“We’re conducting important business!” James groans. “You can’t mess with important business, Mary.”

“…it’s 11PM on a Friday night. The only important business one would attend to right now is below the belt.”

Lily sends her a pointed look, wide eyes drifting in Remus’ direction. A language of raised eyebrows and narrowed eyes occurs, one that Remus never got lessons in. Mary must have because she seems to catch on incredibly quickly, with a gasp and nod.

“I want in,” she says. Lily sends her a thumbs up and Remus wonders if he’s had some type of wine that’s sent him to another dimension. He inspects the label - cheap shit from Weasleys that he’s had a million and one times. Maybe he shouldn't drink anymore…

“I’m so confused,” he mumbles.

Mary gives him a pat on his cheek, “Don’t worry your pretty little noggin over it.”

“Aren’t you in crisis?”

“Ah,” she scoffs. “I’ve got bigger whales to fry.”

“Fish.”

“Those too,” she nods in agreement.

“What’s your crisis, Mary?” Lily asks as she reaches over to snatch the bottle of wine. She takes a healthy sip and hands it over to James, who looks affronted at the idea. Remus takes the bottle back.

“You,” Mary says with a bitter laugh. “Set me up on a blind date with Emmeline!”

James and Lily share an interesting glance. Remus must be out of his mind.

“Emmeline, your neighbor?” Lily asks casually.

“The one and only!” Mary sneers. “God, I can’t talk about it anymore. Remus,” she says with a snap of her fingers. “Give me drama.”

“…uh,” he stalls, racking his brain to try and think of some new drama to entertain Mary. “Christie and Kelly are no longer on speaking terms.”

“Ah!” James gasps. “I thought they were talking again?”

“What do you mean again?”

“They weren’t on speaking terms for a while, right? Somewhere around season two?”

Remus and Mary both turn to Lily, the expert in James Language. She sighs and snatches the wine bottle out of Remus’ hands. “He’s talking about Dance Moms.”

“Ooh,” they both say.

“Yeah,” Remus continues. “I’m talking about Christie Micah who lives on Badger Circle and Kelly Shir who lives over on Eagle Drive.”

“Oh, yeah,” James mumbles, clearly not as interested as he was when he thought they were talking about Dance Moms.

“Anyway…” Remus whispers. “I guess Christie was talking shit about Kelly and ended up accidentally sending her a voice note of the whole thing.”

“No!” Mary gasps.

“She didn’t!” Lily yells.

“She did! She was talking to Jasmine - all about Kelly’s divorce and her nose job and her kids' drug addiction and her boob job. Kelly is just livid.”

“To Jasmine? As in Kelly’s old best friend Jasmine?” Mary asks, her voice pitched a touch too loud.

“The very one,” Remus nods.

“This is just unbelievable,” Lily murmurs. “That Kelly and Jasmine fight was something else. And for Christie to just share all that private information with someone! What a nosy little gossip.”

“Yeah, gee, what a bitch,” James says dramatically.

“It’s not the same,” Mary scoffs.

Mary and Lily spend, what can only be referred to as far too long, trying to defend themselves from James and his moral superiority. They win, really only because James can’t say no to Lily and her big green eyes. The bottle of wine gets polished off, rather quickly, if he’s honest. A side conversation about whether Lora Flon is a lesbian or not occurs before the three of them decide they ought to venture into their own homes.

He’s just about free from the unwelcome guests when Mary, mildly tipsy and entirely loose-lipped, says, “Tell Sirius I’m sorry for kicking him off of the couch. I’m not, of course, but he didn’t have to go hiding in the bedroom all evening!”

James and Lily stop dead in their tracks, both comically turning around as Lily drops her hand off of the door knob to his front door. Their smiles are wicked and mean and Remus was so close to getting rid of them!

Goddammit.

“I knew I didn’t see him leave!” James yells with a triumphant smile. It almost makes Remus want to cry. “And I presume I don’t have to ask which bedroom, of course.”

“Who taught you the word ‘presume’?” Lily asks.

Remus flops back down on the couch, holding his head in his hands as he questions what Deity he once pissed off to get him in the position he’s in now. He’ll have to Google the number for a good locksmith in town. And maybe a moving company.

“Sirius! Sirius!” James sings. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Sirius shuffles into the living room a moment later, donned only in his boxers and a red silk bathrobe. Remus wants to bash his head in. They almost left.

“Oh,” Mary smirks. “Sirius, you are looking dashing.”

“Like a scene straight out of a bad porno,” Lily laughs.

“Hey! Lily has that same robe,” James says with a smile. Lily wacks him in the stomach and James coughs so hard his face turns as red as Sirius’ robe.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” Sirius grumbles. He shuffles further into the living room and sits down next to Remus. He tries not to think about the fact that his own cheeks are probably just as flushed as James, for entirely different reasons, of course.

“Were you, uh, hanging out by yourself in there?” Lily asks through a cheeky grin.

“I was waiting.”

“Oh,” she nods. “Like a good boy?”

“Okay, everybody get out! Out! Out of my house!”

***

“Jesus,” Remus huffs. “How much did you pack? We’re only staying for the weekend.”

“I like to be prepared,” Sirius shrugs as he pulls open the front door to The Pettigrew B&B.

“What exactly are you prepared for? War?”

“Cold, hot, windy, rainy. A headache, stomachache, backache. I’ve got books, knitting, stuff for scrapbooking. And I’ve got that, uh, thing that you like so much,” he says with a knowing smirk.

And since Remus does like that thing, he politely decides to shut up.

He sets both Sirius’ suitcases and his own duffle bag on the floor with a loud thud, wipes a drop of sweat from his forehead, and smiles up at Peter. “Hey, Pete.”

“Remus! Good to see you again,” Peter says with a friendly smile.

“Again?” Sirius asks.

“We booked a room,” Remus cuts in, eyes firm and hoping to bypass that conversation. “It’s under Lupin.”

“Sure thing,” he smiles as he taps away on his keyboard. “Lupin, Lupin, Lupin.”

“You’ve been here before?” Sirius asks.

“Confirmation number is 1103S-O-B, S as in spaceship, O as in octagon, and B as in…black. If that helps you at all,” Remus says.

“Yes, there we are! You guys are going to be in Room 3 up on the second floor. It’s got the best view in the house.” Peter rambles on about when the best time is to see the deer, when they should expect breakfast, and how to work the coffee machine in their room. He finishes it all off with a fantastic, “But you already knew all of that, Remus!”

He slides their room key over with a friendly smile and Remus has to bite his tongue. “Thanks, Pete.”

“Enjoy your stay! Do you remember how to get up to the second floor, Remus?”

“Yes, yes, I think we can figure it out, thank you very much, okay, have a good day now. Yup, bye-bye,” Remus rambles as he picks up all the bags and begins to drag them to the staircase.

“So, you’ve been here before.”

“Yeah, uh, my mom stayed here once.”

“You said your mom has never been to Godric’s Hollow before.”

Who remembers this much about a person?! He said that ages ago! How does Sirius even remember?! Can’t a man just lie in peace!

“Did I?” He says breathlessly as he finishes the first set of stairs. His arms are numb from carrying all of the bags and the blood is rushing to his head.

“Yes.”

“Huh. Isn’t that interesting?”

“You came here with Benjy.”

Remus almost trips taking his next step, his foot slipping on the hardwood stairs. Sirius’ hand instinctively reaches out to grab him by the waist and help him keep his balance.

“Remus,” Sirius says with a small laugh. “It’s fine, really. I mean, I enjoy getting you this worked up, but I sort of have other methods that I prefer.”

“With the, uh, with the thing?”

“If you’re good.”

Remus feels his face flush - from exertion or anticipation, he’s not sure. He finishes dragging their bags up the steps, pausing briefly at the landing so he can catch his breath, before they make their way down the hallway and to their room. Sirius jabs the key in the door handle and swings the door open. Remus takes a step in and drops the bags to the floor with a thunk.

“Oh my god.”

“How…”

“Mashuga nut?” James asks, legs spread out on their queen-sized bed as he holds out a jar of cinnamon-spiced pecans.

“Or salt-water taffy?” Lily asks around a mouthful of, presumably, salt-water taffy.

“Caramel cream?” Mary asks as she throws one directly at his head.

***

“Fuck,” he breathes. “There, there.”

“Yeah?” Sirius asks and Remus doesn’t even need to see him to know the smirk that must be on his face. “How’s that?”

“Uh-huh,” Remus mumbles. He stretches his back and pushes down, “More. Please.”

“More what?”

Remus feels the stretch of another finger and groans. “Sirius,” he warns. “It’s not - God, funny.”

“I’m having quite the chuckle,” he says. “You’re the one who always says I should use my words, so…”

“And now I want you to use your dick.”

“Demanding,” he tuts, twisting his fingers and pressing just right. “Beggars can’t be choosers, Remus.”

“Put your dick inside me right now or I swear to - ”

“Good morning! AH!”

“Ass!”

“Dick! Dick! Oh my God, it’s a dick!” Mary yells, her hands covering her eyes. “Ew! God, ew! My lesbian eyes! Ew! Why does it look like that!?”

“That was an asshole…” Lily yells. “I’ve seen horrors. Horrors. Unimaginable horrors.”

“Maybe we should have knocked,” James mumbles.

“I mean, okay, I’ve seen pictures of dicks. But never ones in real life! People like those things? They’re so…God, how does that even happen?”

“My best friends asshole. I didn’t want to see that. I’ll never get the image out of my mind. It’s terrible, horrible, ungodly, miserable - ”

“I mean, on the couch, guys? Use the bedroom.”

“The whole thing is just so strangely designed. Is this one considered big or small? It looked pretty big to me. I didn’t get the best look, but I can’t imagine it going up my - ”

“You know, I sort of thought it would be the other way - ”

“And at 8 o’clock in the morning? Have some decency.”

“What if we just continued?” Sirius mumbles, his hand slowly sliding up Remus’ thigh. Remus’ eyes flutter shut and it takes everything in him to bat Sirius’ hand away.

“Not…not while they’re here,” he says breathlessly as Sirius’ hand finds its way back to his thigh. “Kick them out.”

“I can think of a couple ways to get them out…”

“Ones that won’t land…fuck, Sirius, won’t land us in prison.”

“Maybe if we go to prison we can ask for a shared cell. And maybe then we’ll finally get some godforsaken peace.”

“Sirius,” he warns. Sirius’ touch is feather-light and inching closer and closer and they have guests. “They’re still here.”

“Get out,” Sirius grumbles. It’s said to the unwelcome guests, but Sirius’ eyes don’t leave Remus.

“Does it just sort of hang there when it’s not being used - what was that?”

“…not that it’s any of my business, of course, but I just thought Sirius would - huh?”

“All of you - out.”

“Well, that’s just being rude.”

“We are guests in your home!”

“Are they really kicking us out?”

Sirius looks at Remus, a tilt of his head and a question in his eyes. Remus nods and shrugs. He throws his head back, shuts his eyes, and moans something dramatic and borderline pornographic. He puts his best act forth, gasping out breathy, loud moans like he’s being touched beyond belief, despite the fact that Sirius’ hands are firmly at his own side.

“Are they - ”

“We’re right here!”

“Horrors. Unimaginable horrors.”

“Get out!” Sirius and Remus both yell through laughs as they throw pillows and blankets in their direction.

“Sirius, as glad as I am to see both of your hands - ”

“Ooh, where did you get this one? Is this from HomeGoods?”

“Hey! You’re messing up my hair!”

“Out! Out! Out!”

***

“Okay,” Sirius says with a clap of his hands. He sits down on the bar stool and Remus has to force himself to divert his eyes away from his thighs and the dark denim fabric stretched around them. “We’ve gathered you all here today for an important reason.”

“Yes,” Remus chimes in. “We’re tired of being ambushed. I’d like to exist in my own house without worry or fear that one of you will barge in, unwelcomed.”

“Rude,” Mary mumbles. “Bringing us here just to chastise us. Can you believe this?”

“We were only trying to help,” Lily sniffs.

“I’m just keeping my best friend's interests and well-being at heart,” James scoffs.

“All that being said,” Sirius says. “We’ve discussed it and we are willing to compromise with you guys. One question, each.”

“Only one!?”

“One question each,” Remus repeats. “We’ll give you guys some time to think about it.”

“What was the first thing you guys did to each other? Sexually,” Mary asks instantly.

“Mary!” Lily yells, scandalized.

“And I want details. Handjob? Blowjob? Humping? Or did you little sluts get right down to the nitty-gritty P.I.A.?”

“P.I.A.?” James asks with furrowed eyebrows.

“Penis in asshole,” Mary says as if it’s obvious. “Answer away!”

“Uh…well,” Sirius mumbles, shifting awkwardly on his stool. His footing slips and he almost slides off, his cheeks flushed as he rights himself. “It’s sort of, well, okay…so.”

“He sucked my dick in the bathroom. Next.”

“Ah!” Mary yells as if she’s working with a disobedient puppy. “And you to him?”

“Oh, yeah,” Remus sighs. “I sucked his dick in my house, like…two nights later?”

“Yeah,” Sirius mumbles.

“Left the man high and dry, did ya Remus?” James asks with a cheeky grin.

“Not quite,” Remus smirks. “Sirius took care of himself.”

“Remus!” Sirius says, using his hand to smack Remus on the chest. “Next question, please.”

“Lily, Lily, please. Please ask more about that. Please. I need to know,” Mary begs.

“Is this a settled thing?” Lily asks. “Like, you’re together? You’re dating? Are you committed monogamously? Is this something the both of you are mature and serious about?”

Sirius smirks, “I’m the only seri- ”

“That was way more than one question,” Remus says with pointed and unimpressed eyes.

Lily shrugs, “They’re connected.”

“Yes, it’s a settled, committed, serious, monogamous thing,” Sirius answers. “Next!”

“Woah, woah, hold on - ”

“Is it my turn?” James says giddily. “Oh God, I didn’t think. I don’t…Lily, I don’t know!”

“Ask about the bathroom blowjob!” Mary whispers loudly.

“No, ew, no! Um, God, I’m not good under pressure!” James rambles as he runs a shaky hand through his hair. “I, um…uh, did you have a nice time at the Pettigrew B&B?”

“You idiot!”

“James revokes his question!”

“James can’t revoke his question! It’s already asked,” Remus says. “Yes, James, we had a wonderful time. Thank you for asking.”

“I’m so glad,” James says with a smile. “That was a God-awful question. I want a redo!”

“No redos!”

“I want a redo!”

“No!”

“I asked a stupid question!”

“And who’s fault is that!”

“I’ll interrupt you! I’ll interrupt you again. I’ll do it, you know I will. I’ll sit and I’ll watch your house and I’ll wait, and I’ll wait, and I’ll wait, and I’ll - ”

“Jesus, fucking Hell just ask a different question!”

“Hah! I knew I’d break you. Okay,” James mumbles to himself. He turns to face Lily, eyes wide and scared. “Lily, what should I ask?”

“The thing we want to know…” Lily goads. “Ask about that, honey.”

“Oh,” James says. “Yes. that. Okay, that. Remus, Sirius - can you babysit Harry tomorrow night?”

“James!”

“That’s what we want to know!”

“About their relationship! The thing we want to know about their relationship!”

“Oh…oh.”

“He already got a redo! And yes, we can.”

“Thanks,” James smiles.

“I want a redo on my question!” Mary yells. “This bimbo got two, I want two!”

“Hey!”

“If Mary gets a second question, I get one too!”

“Both my questions were duds so I should get two redos, really.”

“I want two redos too, then!”

“Me too!” Lily yells as she throws her arm up in the air. Remus glances at Sirius, a fearful look plaguing his eyes. Their friends have become savages.

“One!” Remus yells. “The three of you will come up with one singular question, together. We will answer it and you will leave. You can debrief now.”

“No need,” Lily says. “We all want to know that same thing.”

“Ask away,” Sirius says with an irritated flourish of his hands.

“Why did you guys hate each other?” Lily asks.

Sirius and Remus both snap toward each other, exchanging awkward glances with each other. Sirius cracks his knuckles and Remus nervously chews on his lip. His foot bounces up at down and he has the distinct inability to make eye contact with anyone.

“You haven’t discussed that yet, have you?” Lily asks knowingly.

“Not…uh, not exactly,” Remus mumbles.

“‘Not exactly’?”

“Not at all,” Sirius says through a smile.

“Great!” James says, completely oblivious to the internal turmoil resting in both Sirius and Remus.

“Sirius,” Mary says, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Why don’t you start us off.”

“Oh…” Sirius mumbles. “Uh-huh. It’s…well, okay.”

“Sirius, it’s fine,” Remus says quietly. “You can answer it, if you want.”

“Okay.” Sirius takes a deep breath. “We met at that party you threw, James, remember? Three years ago? We met and hit it off, flirted a little, you know. And then I found out he had a girlfriend.”

“…What!?”

“Yes. We were sitting on the couch together and you were all flirty and cute with your big brown eyes and freckles and I was totally smitten, until I learned you had a girlfriend.”

“I didn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Yes, we were flirting and hitting it off excellently and I had every intention of taking you home and having my wicked way with you. But then you went and got a drink and came back and you were wearing a green baseball hat. And the whole time you had a girlfriend.”

“I have never and will never wear a green baseball hat. I went and got a drink and came back to find you already flirting with another man.”

“Yeah, you. I flirted with you all night. While you were wearing a green baseball hat.”

“I did not wear a green baseball hat.”

“You did, you did. I remember.”

“I most certainly did not.”

“Yes, at James and Lily’s party. We were on a couch and flirting and you had a girlfriend and a green baseball hat.”

“We were on a couch and flirting and I went to get a drink and came back and you were flirting with someone else. While I was wearing a green sweater.”

“…Huh?”

“You’re wrong.”

“No…no, that’s…probably not it.”

“Yes, it is. You are wrong. I was wearing a green sweater.”

“…and a green baseball hat?”

“No. No green baseball hats. I don’t own any baseball hats. And I didn’t have a girlfriend!”

“You didn’t have a girlfriend?”

“Or a green baseball hat.”

“You were flirting with me and you didn’t have a girlfriend?”

“Yes, I was very heavily flirting with you. In a green sweater. With no girlfriend. And then you flirted with another man.”

“You were?”

“Very much so.”

“I swear you were wearing a green baseball hat and had a girlfriend! Caradoc told me! You got that drink and the hat and then sat down next to me and I told you I wanted to take you home and do dirty things to you and you said you just had to go to the bathroom real quick and then we could leave and then Caradoc came over and warned me about the girlfriend!”

“No, I went and got the drink and came back and you were already snuggled up on the couch with another man.”

“You know who was wearing a green baseball hat that night…” Mary muses.

“Oh my god,” James whispers.

“Daniel!” Lily yells with a clap of her hands.

Silence. Ten, maybe fifteen seconds of silence. Remus turns in his seat and finally makes direct eye contact with Sirius.

“You hated me for three years because you confused me for Daniel!?”

“To be fair I didn’t hate you! I was upset you had a girlfriend! You flirted with me and I liked you and wanted to do dirty, sexy things to you and then I found out you had a girlfriend! I was confused. I thought you were green baseball hat guy!”

“And the years after when you knew I didn’t have a girlfriend!?”

“I was confused! I thought you were wearing a green baseball hat! I thought you flirted with me while dating someone else!”

“Daniel!?”

“Drunk,” Sirius nods. “Drunk and confused.”

Chapter Text

Remus grabs the full cup of coffee and a freshly baked blueberry muffin, exercising extreme caution while he tries to bring both out onto the porch. The sun has just risen, a beautiful hazy orange in the sky that comes second in a competition for his favorite sight. The air is still chilly, just cold enough for a hot drink and a light jacket, but not cold enough that it’s unbearable.

He hands Sirius his blueberry muffin and filled mug - hot coffee with an embarrassing amount of milk and sugar. Sirius grabs the mug with a smile, takes a small sip, and sets it down next to him. Allan quickly darts around his legs to pop his face into the mug to try and drink it. Remus picks him up off the table and plops him down in his lap as he sits.

He sighs as he watches a car drive by, waving hello to the driver. It’s his favorite time of year, his (second) favorite activity, and his favorite person.

A group of bikers zooms past, Remus knowing that James is somewhere in the crowd. If he had to guess, it’s the person in bright red a mile ahead of everyone else. A few walkers with dogs pass by and Allan hardly even registers their presence.

“That’s the last of the milk,” he says, using his head to nod towards Sirius’ mug. Allan purrs as Remus scratches his favorite spot behind his ear.

“And we’re out of eggs,” Sirius murmurs. “We’ll have to pop into the store.”

“I can go if you’d like.”

“No, no. I’ll go with you.”

“It was one time, Sirius! I’m not going to get the wrong yogurt again.”

“Well,” Sirius clicks his tongue. “You’ve gotten the wrong yogurt before.”

“Once.”

“Better to be safe than sorry, is all.”

“The store is a three-minute walk.”

“That’s three whole minutes that can be spent doing something else, Remus.”

“Like folding the laundry? Washing the dishes?”

“The laundry is folded!”

“Throwing it in the dressers is not the same as folding it!”

“Oh, 'cause you’re so perfect, huh? Mr. Get The Wrong Yogurt Guy.”

“It was one time! And it was months ago!”

“I still remember!”

“Oh, yeah? Just like how you remembered to wash the dishes last night?”

“You distracted me,” Sirius sniffs.

“Don’t blame this on me,” Remus laughs.

“It is literally your fault. You accosted me!”

“Accosted you?”

“You grabbed my ass.”

“It’s a nice ass!”

“So, it’s my fault because I have a nice ass?”

“Yes.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Does it? Does it really?”

“It really does.”

Sirius scoffs, his pout disappearing for a moment when he takes another sip of his coffee. He sets his mug down gently and looks at Remus with a small smile, “You put honey in here?”

“Of course.”

“I thought we were out.”

“I picked some up yesterday. Molly’s bees were putting in overtime so she was selling jars for five bucks.”

Sirius hums, closes his eyes, and leans back in his chair, the morning sun reflecting beautifully against his skin. Remus watches him, feels that oh-so-familiar surge of his heart in his chest.

“I’m still going with you to grocery shop,” Sirius mumbles.

***

Sirius slips a bar of the nice German chocolate in the basket and Remus pretends to shake his head in disappointment. They both know that would be a lie. “We should get some wine.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Remus nods as he grabs a box of noodles from the shelf and drops them in the basket. “You wanna go pick one out?”

“Sure, red or white?”

“Whichever one you want,” he shrugs. He lifts the basket up, “I think we’ve got everything here. I’ll just get the yogurt and you get the wine, meet back at the checkout?”

Sirius nods and turns on his heels to head to the wine. He calls over his shoulder, “Chobani, Remus! I want Chobani Vanilla Greek Yogurt.”

“I know,” Remus yells back. He got the wrong yogurt one time!

“Vanilla Greek!” Sirius yells again, disappearing as he turns the corner to head to the Wine & Spirits section of the store.

Remus finds the yogurt, easily spotting the vanilla Chobani yogurt and momentarily hesitating as he tries to remember whether Sirius wants Greek or not. He decides on Greek, sending up a prayer that he’s right and second that he’ll start listening better.

Remus makes it to the checkout first, lingering and pretending to look at the candy bars as he waits for Sirius to come back. When Sirius shows up a moment later, the sound of clinking glass bottles tells him it can only be with trouble. Two bottles of wine are precariously held in each of his hands. Remus sends him a disapproving look and Sirius’ smile grows wider.

“I couldn’t decide!”

“So you picked four?”

“Remus, we’ll never drink our way through their wine collection if we only buy one bottle a trip.”

Sirius’ grip on the glass slips slightly and Remus reaches out to grab one of the bottles, inspecting the label as he does. “We’ve had this one before,” he looks at the bottles in Sirius’ hands, all with incredibly familiar labels. “We’ve had all of these before.”

“So we already know they’re good!”

Remus scoffs and shakes his head endearingly. He really does love him. “Put them down, you tit. Before your tiny and ineffectual hands drop one and get glass everywhere.”

Sirius smiles as he sets the bottles down on the counter, Remus following behind him with their basket full of food.

“Hey, Percy,” Sirius says, his voice cheery. Somehow he makes it sound genuine. Maybe because it actually is. “How’s the family?”

“Oh, good,” Percy smiles, reaching over to grab their bag of lemons to scan. “Mom still isn't pregnant, so I think that’s a win.”

Sirius nods, “And how’s Fabian?”

Remus pushes down the scoff that threatens to come out. Fabian? Really. Who cares how he is!?

“Gettin’ married.”

“No shit?”

“Shit,” Percy laughs. He scans a box of brownie mix, reaching for a cucumber to scan next. “Wedding is next month. Amelia Cartwright, she’s a journalist down at Godric's Hollow Newspaper.”

“That’s great!” Sirius beams. “Send him my well wishes.”

Only Sirius would want to send well wishes to their ex-lover who’s getting married. Remus would certainly never do that. He’d send…bad wishes.

“How ‘bout you? How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know. That new addition at the library has been crazy - the kiddos have been there in hoards the last few weeks,” Sirius laughs. “The shelter is empty from that big pet adoption event we just had, so I’ve been volunteering at the fire station lately.”

“I bet there’s been an increase in small house fires in the ladies' homes,” Percy smirks.

“And some of the men,” Remus chimes in.

“Remus, here, is still a pain in my ass,” Sirius continues on, ignoring him like he’s so good at. “Keep trying to kick him to the curb but he’s sort of obsessed with me.”

“You live in my house.”

(And he is, actually, sort of obsessed with him.)

“Got propositioned at the library the other day, some single mom from Hogsmeade. Might take her up on it because I’ve been feeling a bit lonely.”

“You’re gay,” Remus mumbles to himself. Sirius and Percy continue to chat while he finishes up scanning their groceries, moving on from Sirius’ pretend loneliness to where Percy will be going to for college next year.

Remus is still trying to adjust to being with someone who knows everyone. Pushing down frustration at being stopped in streets and stores and restaurants by people who know Sirius and want to catch up with him. Remus prefers a polite wave, a small smile hello, and to keep walking. There are only about five people in the whole wide world that Remus would stop on the street to talk to - and one of them is Beyoncé.

And Sirius, the social butterfly, can spend hours chatting with them about anything, from the weather to the United States Postal System to the current state of air pollution. Remus thought he would bore his eyes out of his skull when he had to listen to Sirius chat with Mr. Fredrick for over an hour about the type of lightbulbs that would look the best around his patio. (They decided on a respectable string of Edison bulbs.)

Thankfully, as social as Sirius is, he’s just as aware of the dilemma this poses for Remus, who just wants to go home. At some point, they developed a sort of excellent system. Remus will politely butt in to remind Sirius that they have to go feed the dog, Sirius will masterfully excuse himself from the conversation, and they’ll go home to feed a dog that they don’t have.

“So, yeah, I think we’re going to paint the deck,” Sirius says. “Remus wants to do a dark brown color, but James thinks we should paint it bright red and I kind of agree with him…”

Remus rolls his eyes, knowing damn well that Sirius or James will not be painting the deck red. Someone clears their throat behind him, and he glances back to see a long line of people, all impatiently tapping their feet and glaring at him.

He turns back to Sirius, who’s now talking about the family of squirrels that are living in their rose bush. Remus rests his hand on Sirius’ lower back, “Sirius, honey, there’s a line.”

“Oh, silly me,” he laughs. He leans back to wave at the people in line, their irritated frowns all disappearing when they realize it’s Sirius that’s holding them up. “Sorry about that folks!”

“Sirius, dear, take your time!”

“Good to see you, son!”

“Sirius, have you met my daughter? She’s in town!”

“How much do I owe you, Percy?”

“$85.22.”

Sirius digs through his wallet and throws down a hundred-dollar bill, telling Percy to keep the change and use it to get himself an ice cream cone. With a charming level of ease, he picks up the paper bags, turning and shoving all four of them into Remus’ arms. Sirius sends him a blinding grin before moving to grab Remus’ hand, a struggle since Remus is the one carrying all of the grocery bags. Remus has to gingerly shuffle the bags between his arms so he can hold all of them with his right arm, his left arm occupied with Sirius intertwining their fingers together and swinging their hands while they start their walk home.

“James is making chicken pot pie for dinner tonight. He said they have something they want to tell us. I’m thinking divorce,” he sings. “I’m not big on chicken pot pie, but it was that or Lily’s famous burnt lasagna, so…”

“James and Lily are not getting a divorce.”

“I got you that book that you wanted from the library, Gonorrhea and How to Cure it, I left it in the bathroom for you. Look at Miss Martha’s roses, Remus! Gosh, they didn’t bloom last year so she was so worried they wouldn't bloom again this year.”

“I did not ask for a book on gonorrhea! I wanted Gone With The Wind.”

“Oh, honey, sometimes you mumble and I have a little difficulty understanding you. See that rose bush over there? I planted it. Well, I planted all of them but I remember that one because it had a nasty thorn that sliced me.”

“That scar on your left arm?”

“That’s the one! Courtesy of Miss Martha and her rose bushes. Nearly had to get stitches for it, Remus.”

“You would not have had to get stitches from a rose thorn.”

“She made me some hand-squeezed lemonade as a thank you. We did all her landscaping eight or so years ago. She wanted a butterfly garden so we planted all kinds of pollinator plants. Ever notice how similar Miss Martha’s yard is to Caroline’s? Carrie copied her, it was a whole big thing. Before your time, though, dear.”

Remus nods along as Sirius blabs on and on about things, a constant stream of thoughts that he feels a deep desire to share. Remus adores it. They unload the groceries together, Remus doing the refrigerator items and Sirius the pantry.

Sirius has to leave for a bit to pop over to Peter’s house, something about Peter having a relationship emergency and needing help from an expert. Of course, James was busy, so he called Sirius.

Remus brings his book (Gone With The Wind, which he found placed on the closed toilet seat lid) and a glass of tea outside to the back porch, sitting down on his rocking chair. Placed perfectly on the porch so he’ll be just the right amount covered by shade. He’s only a couple chapters in when Sirius comes back home carrying a dozen of Remus’ favorites - Alice’s homemade chocolate croissants. Remus snatches one out of the box and welcomes him home with a chaste kiss before Sirius sets the box in the house and joins him on the patio.

“James texted,” he says. “Chicken pot pie is canceled. We’re going to Dumbledore’s for dinner.”

“Dumbledore’s?” Remus asks, bookmarking his page and setting his book down on his lap. “Why on Earth would we go to Dumbledore’s?”

Sirius reaches over and grabs his hand, intertwines their fingers, and shrugs. Such a tactile thing. “He called a bit ago saying he wanted to change it.”

“Strange,” Remus mumbles. Sirius yawns dramatically, his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut. Remus watches in amusement, “Tired?”

Sirius huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, sending a piece of hair flying over his forehead. “You should know.”

“It’s not my fault, Sirius.”

“Well, Remus, did the goddamn cat push me out of bed last night?”

“He may have,” Remus sniffs.

“Not! That would be the act of you.”

“It’s your own fault!”

“How? How on Earth could you pushing me out of bed be my own fault?”

“You were laying on my side!” Remus says defensively.

“So you pushed me!?”

“It was my side, Sirius! I always sleep on the left side and you always sleep on the right. Why you decided to sleep on my side last night, I don’t know, but it’s not my fault.”

“You could’ve just woken me up! You pushed me out of bed!”

“I tried! For five minutes! I was tired and you were on my side of the bed.”

“Sleep on the other side!”

“That’s not my side!”

“You’ll live!”

“We have sides for a reason. I shouldn’t have to pay the consequences of you not sleeping on your side.”

“The consequences? It’s the same fucking bed, Remus.”

“I like my side, that’s why it’s my side.”

“Your side is lumpy and lopsided, like your brain,” Sirius grumbles.

“Then why’d you sleep on it?”

“Smelt like you,” he mumbles.

Remus watches the twitch of his lips, the narrowing of his eyes, the fiddling of his fingers. Sirius glances up from where he was looking, their intertwined hands, and looks at Remus with a small smile. Remus smiles back at him, “You’re full of shit.”

Sirius gasps, a terribly fake and dramatic thing, before he drops the act and rolls his eyes. “You know me too well. It kind of sucks sometimes.”

“Because you can no longer trick me into feeling bad for you?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Remus rolls his eyes fondly and returns back to his book, sending Sirius a quick thank you for picking up the correct book. Birds chip and chirp, occasionally popping by to eat the seeds from their bird feeder. Sirius points out a bright red cardinal and a blue cowbird, fumbling with his phone to quickly try and snap their pictures.

Remus reads and Sirius bird watches, stopping once to refill the bird feeders with more seed and add more water to the birdbath. Remus watches him as he does it, though he makes a great show of pretending like he isn’t.

A morning dove lands right next to Sirius’ foot and lots of silent pointing and gesturing ensues as Sirius tries to get Remus’ attention. Remus sneezes and the morning dove flies away, which results in a hilariously stubborn pout from a should-be-a-grown-adult Sirius.

The sun travels through the sky, the clouds occasionally blocking it and bringing back his much-welcomed shade. Remus closes his book after an hour of silent reading, silent solely because Sirius was distracted by the array of birds and, now, butterflies. Allan paws and meows at the backdoor, begging to come outside. Remus gets up with a huff to let him out, the fat cat jumping on his lap once he sits down. “Most doglike-cat in the world.”

“You love him,” Sirius smiles, reaching over to pet the cat. Allan hisses at him and throws his paw at Sirius’ hand, almost clawing him. Sirius snatches his arm back, dramatically inspecting it to make sure the little kitty didn’t cut him. “I hate him.”

Remus smoothes a hand down Allan’s back as the cat purrs and nuzzles closer to him. “He can tell.”

“Demon cat,” he mutters.

“He’s just a baby.”

“He’s ancient, Remus. Like, dinosaur-aged. Should have been wiped out with the meteor.”

“No,” Remus whines. “He’s just a little guy. You’re so cruel to him.”

“He’s cruel to me! I’m a human person and that supposed ‘cat’ is mean to me.”

Remus cups his hands around Allan’s ear, leaning down to whisper in his face, “He’s just bitter, baby, ignore him.”

“Don’t call the damn cat baby!”

“I’ll call the damn cat whatever I want to call the damn cat.”

“You cannot call him baby!”

“He is a baby.”

“No, he’s mean. He’s geriatric and mean.”

“You’re geriatric and mean.”

Sirius huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. Remus snorts as he watches him, a little twitch of Sirius’ eye and his downturned lips.

“What time does James want to go to dinner?” He asks.

Sirius sniffs and turns his head away, haughty and childish. Remus smiles to himself— how he got stuck with this perpetual child, he’ll never know. He gives Allan a quick kiss on his head before picking him up and setting him down on the porch. He paws and meows at Remus’ legs, begging to be picked back up.

The old rocker squeaks as Remus gets up. He crosses the small space between himself and Sirius and squats down in front of Sirius, using a finger to gently move his chin so he’s facing Remus and not the 30-foot pine tree in their backyard. A smile toys on the side of Sirius’ lips and Remus wants to live in it, take a picture of it and look at it forever. Sirius looks down at him, his attitude faltering and his frown disappearing the longer they stare at each other. Eventually, he huffs, a full smile gracing his face and Remus feels warm all over.

“Seven,” Sirius says through a laugh. “That’s what time James wants to go to dinner.”

“So, we have to leave at six?”

Sirius nods. Remus pushes a strand of hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear.

“And it’s four right now?”

Sirius nods again, the piece of hair falling back in his face. Remus stands up, tucking the hair back again and leaning over to whisper in his ear, “Whatever can we do with those two hours?”

Sirius blinks up at him, cheeks pink from being outside or being in love. “Well, we can start the laundry, or mop the floors, clean the bathrooms, maybe mow the lawn.”

“Mmm,” Remus hums. “I’m not sure that’s what I want to do.”

“And what is it you want to do?”

“Take a guess.”

Sirius smirks, giggling as he pushes Remus back and bolts up from his rocking chair. He grabs Remus by his hand and pulls him into the house, Allan just barely sneaking in before the slam of the door.

Sirius laughs loudly as he weaves his way through the house and to the bedroom, his clothes littering the hallway as he tears off his socks and his shirt and his pants. Remus picks them all up as he follows behind him, a naked Sirius jumping on their bed with a loud laugh. Once he reaches the room, Remus drops the ball of clothes on the floor and starts to crawl over Sirius.

“You,” Sirius smiles, giddy and his cheeks pink, “Are fully clothed.”

Remus runs his palm down Sirius’ bare side until he reaches his hips, Sirius shivering at the gentle touch. He sighs and wraps his arms around Remus’ waist, looking up at him with wide and sweet eyes. “And I see you’re not,” Remus smirks as he wraps a loose hand around Sirius’ hardening cock, gasping and jerking up at the touch.

“I’m proactive,” he breathes. Remus tightens his grip and twists his wrist, is rewarded with a breathy moan against his mouth. He licks at his collarbones, Sirius’ hips lifting up off the mattress and pushing into his hand. Minutes pass as Remus licks and sucks at Sirius’ neck, careful to not leave any visible marks. Sirius’ cock is fully hard and leaking against his stomach, a sight so familiar but never tiring.

His fingers tighten around Sirius’ cock, smearing precome down the length as Sirius’ hips buck up to push into the right friction of his hand.

“Uh-uh,” Remus tuts, a disapproving shake of his head. Sirius whines, a desperate and needy sound that goes straight to Remus’ dick. He can feel it hard and straining in his pants, but they have time. His hand slows down from where it was stroking Sirius’ cock, loosens his grip to the point he’s almost barely touching him.

“Remus,” Sirius groans, moving his own hand out of Remus’ hair to around Remus’ hand to force him to tighten his grip. He sighs at the feeling and starts moving his hand, forcing Remus’ hand to move with it. Remus watches in awe as he moans, moving both of their hands around his cock, hips lifting off the bed and pushing up and into Remus’ fist.

He gains his senses, Sirius’ eyes fluttering shut as a tell-tale sign he’s getting close. He bats Sirius’ hand away and removes his completely, Sirius crying out at the loss of contact.

“Rem, please,” he whines. His hands scramble over Remus, tugging at his t-shirt and ripping it off over his head. Sirius throws it somewhere across the room, latching himself onto Remus’ chest and starting to suck a deep bruise into his skin. His fingers work on Remus’ pants, not even looking as he undoes the button and fumbles with the zipper.

Once his clothes are gone, Remus moves so his knees are resting on either side of Sirius’ hips, hovering over him so that’s the only point of contact between their bare skin. He shifts and their cocks briefly brush against each together, Sirius gasping and scrambling to make it happen again.

Remus shifts further down his body, fingers lightly gripping his bare hips. He runs a finger over his hip bone, Sirius looking up at him with big eyes, pupils blown and eyelashes clumped together. Remus runs his thumb over Sirius’ bottom lip, pulling it down and letting it go with a pop.

Sirius’ mouth parts, sticking his tongue out and knowing what Remus wants. He gets Remus’ fingers wet, a swirl of his tongue and the hollowing of his cheeks. Remus can only smile as he watches him suck his fingers, his eyes closed in bliss. Remus runs his palm up and down Sirius’ side and watches. Sirius pops off his finger with a moan, a slow and sweet smile as he spreads his legs and lifts his hips up.

Remus places a firm hand on his hipbone, keeping him down against the bed and unable to move. Sirius’ hips jerk up and push against his hand when Remus circles his wet finger around his hole, a gentle and maddening touch that he knows is the perfect way to work Sirius up. He repeats the action, fingers slowly circling his hole until Sirius finally gets breathless and desperate, legs spreading as far as they can go and hips pushing against Remus’ finger as much as they can.

He tuts and shakes his head, “Stay still, Sirius.”

“We have two fucking hours, Remus, not ten. Fuck me already.”

“Have to make sure you’re ready,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss Sirius’ stomach.

“How is - fuck, this going to make me ready? You don’t even have a finger inside me, you bastard.”

“Awfully demanding.”

“Yeah,” he huffs. “I’m ready, God. You know I’m ready.”

“You’re tight.”

“Please,” he scoffs. “You fucked me last night, just, God, just - Remus, get something inside me right fucking now.”

“I’m never this needy when you fuck me,” Remus says with a laugh.

“Because I actually fuck you! None of this, ah, none of this teasing bullshit.”

Remus smiles as he finally pushes a finger inside him, painfully slow and gentle. Just the tip of his finger and Sirius is moaning and clenching around him. He shoves his hip back, forcing Remus’ finger all the way inside him. He sighs constantly, continuing to shift his hips against his finger.

Sirius’ back arches off the bed when Remus presses against his prostate, a breathy moan and his grip tightens in Remus’ hair. Sirius lets go of his hair for a moment, his hand fumbling on the nightstand to find the bottle of lube, throwing it and nearly hitting Remus in the head.

“Another one,” he says as he throws it.

Another wet finger and Sirius’ eyes are squeezed shut, a red flush painting his cheeks. His hand is back in Remus’ hair, a tight but bearable grip. Remus twists his fingers, relishing in the loud moan that escapes Sirius’ lips.

“Sirius,” he says. “Look at me. Eyes open and on me.”

Sirius instantly lifts his head off the pillow, his eyes watery and wide as he looks toward Remus. He smiles at Remus, slow and sensual. Remus wants to drown in it, bask in it and live in it.

Kisses to his hip bone, another finger in his hole. Remus adores feeling the stretch of Sirius’ hole as he takes all three fingers, his cock leaking and hard at the sounds of Sirius’ constant moaning and whimpering. Sirius’ cock is throbbing and hard, flushed red as it leaks a small pool of precome against his stomach.

“Remus,” Sirius whines, pushing back and moving, trying to fuck himself on Remus’ fingers. Remus’ other hand grips his hip harder, keeping him in place. “Please, Remus.”

“You wanna come like this?”

He brushes his fingers over Sirius’ prostrate as he fucks them in and out, making sure he hits it each time. Sirius bites down hard on his lip and nods aggressively. The bed squeaks as he keeps trying to lift his hips up, a sound so familiar Remus barely even registers it.

“Look at me, Sirius,” and he looks, listens to what Remus wants. “I want you to come from just my fingers, yeah?”

Another nod and Sirius is swearing, throwing his head back against the pillows and spreading his legs. He clenches around Remus’ fingers, grunting and moaning as he tries to fuck himself against them. Remus watches - watches his short and labored breaths, his cock bouncing each he moves his hips, his fingers twisting in the sheets, knuckles white.

Remus starts to fuck his fingers in and out of Sirius's hole, faster and harder, finally sending Sirius over the edge with a whine. Sirius comes all over his chest, loose-limbed and breathless as Remus crawls over him and licks him clean.

Sirius’ breathing evens out a moment later, coming back to his senses and instantly fumbling to run his hands over Remus’ back. He wraps a loose and sloppy hand around Remus’ cock. Remus bats him away, kisses his palm, and holds his wrists up above his head. He leans in close to Sirius, licks behind his ear before he whispers, “On your stomach, baby.”

***

Once they’re showered (featuring a spectacular blow job) and cleaned up, Sirius dressed in a pair of nice black dress pants that perfectly shape his ass, they leave for the restaurant, only ten minutes late. Remus drives, refusing to risk his life on the deathtrap of Sirius’ motorcycle.

“Remus! Remus, Remus!” Sirius shouts from the passenger seat, his foot pressed hard against the floorboard and his hand tightly gripping the handlebar above his head. “Car! Car! Stop! Car!”

“Sirius, fucking Hell!” He yells, gently tapping the brakes to not hit the car merging in front of him. “You can’t fucking do that!”

“Car!” Sirius yells as he gestures at the blue Subaru now in front of them. “There was a car and you weren’t slowing down!”

“Do you want to drive? I’ve told you so many times to not yell when I’m driving! If you keep doing that I’ll stop.”

“Well, maybe we’ll actually make it places on time then.”

“First I’m not breaking fast enough for you and now I’m not driving fast enough?”

“I’m just saying that the speed limit is sixty-five!”

“I’m going sixty-five!”

Sirius huffs, crosses his legs, and shifts them so they’re facing the passenger window and not Remus’ direction. Remus rolls his eyes and presses harder on the gas, speeding up just a little.

What’s Love Got to Do With it is playing through the speakers - Sirius’ choice. He hums along with it, occasionally tapping his finger against his leg to match the beat. Remus’ phone buzzes in his pocket, taking him out of his distraction of glancing at Sirius and his tappy finger and longing gaze out the window and knees pointed away from him.

He digs in his pocket and pulls out his phone, fumbling with it as he tries to check his message.

“Now you’re texting and driving?” Sirius scoffs and - alright, he has a point there.

Remus hands him his phone, “Check it for me.”

“Who is it?” He says mockingly.

“I don’t know…probably my girlfriend.”

“Hah!” Sirius barks out a laugh. “As if you would be able to find a girlfriend. Although, you and Lily are awfully close…” he muses.

“Oh, please,” Remus scoffs.

“I’m just saying, Remus! It’s suspicious, is all.”

“I spend twenty-five hours a day with you, what makes you think I’d have time for a secret girlfriend? We live together, for fucks sake!”

“It’s possible! There are ten minutes of those twenty-five hours that you go to the bathroom.”

“To go to the bathroom! I’m not cheating with the toilet.”

“You’re the one who said it was your girlfriend! I’m just acting accordingly here. For all I know my boyfriend is a cheating loser.”

“I’m not a cheating loser,” Remus mumbles as he wipes at his eyebrow. “It was a joke, Sirius.”

“That should have been more clear, Remus.”

“I didn’t think I’d need to explain to the man I live with and date and spend all of my time with, that I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Well, I would appreciate it anyway.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Good,” Sirius says with a grin. He picks Remus’ phone off his lap and types in the passcode that he, of course, knows. “Okay, let’s see…” he mumbles. “It’s from…an unsaved number. Fun!”

“S’probably spam,” Remus says.

“It says…” Sirius murmurs as he squints his eyes. Remus told him he needed to go to the eye doctor and get them checked, but no he can see just fine! “It says Fun Fish Facts…”

“Oh,” Remus laughs. “Yeah, what’s it say?”

“Huh?”

“What’s it say? What’s the fact?”

“Uh…um, it says ‘Whale Sharks lay the largest eggs of any animal. A Whale Shark egg measuring 35.6 cm (14 in) long was found in the Gulf of Mexico in the 1950s. That’s quite the omelet!’”

Remus chuckles to himself, “That’s a huge egg.”

“Remus, what the Hell is this?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Okay, don’t make fun of me, I know it’s really nerdy. But I somehow got signed up for it and I could never figure out how to get it to stop - shut up - and so now I get fish facts every day.”

“You get…you get fish facts every day?”

“Yeah. Drove me totally nuts at first, but now I love it. I get my little fun fact every day, you know?”

Sirius shifts in his seat, clears his throat, and messes with the collar of his shirt. Remus watches out of the corner of his eye, confused at the sudden shift in his attitude.

“Okay, I know it’s a little stupid, but it’s just a fish fact. It’s nerdy, I guess, but it’s not a big deal,” Remus says.

“Uh-huh,” Sirius mumbles.

“And not a girlfriend,” he says in an attempt at a joke, but Sirius just nods and keeps his eyes set out the car window. “Sirius. Sirius. Sirius!”

“What?” He snaps.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s a stupid fish fact! I somehow got signed up for them! The stupid thing wouldn’t let me cancel and so now I get them every day! Big deal.”

Sirius scrunches his nose and scratches at his ear and Remus has a moment of clarity. A crystal, icy, sparkling moment of clarity.

“Oh my god,” he groans.

“I’m sorry!” Sirius yells. “I’m sorry! I forgot all about it! I didn’t realize you were even still getting them!”

“You fucking signed me up for that shit!?”

“I’m sorry! It was when we didn’t like each other! You sat at that table I was sitting at and went running with James - remember? I was mad so I signed you up for fish facts.”

“Sirius, those have been driving me nuts for ages! What the Hell? I couldn’t cancel it or block it or unsubscribe or anything! I was stuck with stupid, dumb, fucking fish facts!”

“I’ve apologized!”

“You are ridiculous.”

“Hey! You just said yourself that they’re no big deal!”

“That was before I knew you were behind it!”

“That’s so unfair!”

“I don’t care!”

“You like them and you know it!”

“I can’t believe I’ve been getting all those fucking fish facts because of you!”

“It’s a text a day, Remus! It’s not a big deal!”

“It’s a big deal to me!”

“Grow up!”

“You grow up! You signed me up for fish facts!”

“I thought you wanted to learn!”

“Not about fish!”

Sirius scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Too good for fish, are you?”

“Fuck yeah I am.”

Remus can’t see it, but he can feel the monumental eye roll that Sirius gives. “Well, sorry for trying to help educate you.”

“I spent hours Googling that stupid thing and couldn’t even find anything online! Where the Hell did you find it?”

“I may have made it…”

“Sirius!”

“It was easy! I just automated it so I didn’t even have to do anything! I forgot all about it!”

“Is that why sending ‘cancel’ never worked?”

Sirius laughs to himself, a giddy smile on his face, “Yeah, I automated all the responses based on what I thought you’d send.”

“For someone who claimed they hated me, you sure knew a lot about me.”

Sirius ignores him, “I really should look into marketing and selling that. How’d you like it? Any complaints?”

“Cancel it! Cancel it right now.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Sirius, cancel it.”

“…I don’t know how,” he mumbles.

“Sirius.”

“I gotta think! I don’t remember what needs to be sent to cancel it.”

“Think harder!”

“I’m trying!” A few seconds later he gasps, “I know it!”

He spends a couple seconds typing on Remus’ phone before happily setting it down in the empty cup holder. Remus glances at him out of the corner of his eye, waiting for him to say something. He doesn’t, only smiles to himself as he watches the trees pass through the window.

After he pulls the car into the parking lot and parks, Remus snatches his phone and reads through the messages.

Unknown: Fun Fish Facts! Whale Sharks lay the largest eggs of any animal. A Whale Shark egg measuring 35.6 cm (14 in) long was found in the Gulf of Mexico in the 1950s. That’s quite the omelet!

Remus: Nullify

Unknown: Would you like to cancel your subscription to Daily Fun Fish Facts?

Remus: Yes

Unknown: Please enter the required password to cancel your Fun Fish Facts subscription.

Remus: SiriusIsTheBestEver

Unknown: We’re sorry to see you go. If you’d like to resume your Fun Fish Facts subscription, please enter: REMUSSUCKS.

“You are ridiculous,” Remus mutters as he pockets his phone and gets out of the car.

They get to the restaurant first, Lily texting and apologizing that they’re running late. They’re seated in the far corner of the restaurant, surprisingly empty for a Saturday night.

Lily and James show up a couple minutes after they’d been seated, cheeks flushed and hair messy in a way that tells Remus exactly why they were late. Remus looks at her with knowing eyes, a disappointed shake of his head that makes Lily blush even more.

“We got stuck in traffic,” she sniffs.

“We came from the same place,” Remus smirks and tilts his head to the side. “And we didn’t get stuck in traffic.”

“Well, even five minutes can make quite the difference.”

“Oh, I’m sure it can,” Remus smiles.

Sirius orders a bottle of Bordeaux for the table, an expensive one that the waiter double checks he wants two different times. They all briefly look over the menu, a task that can only be brief seeing as there are only about ten different options that haven’t been changed in the fifty years Dumbledore’s has been opened.

“So,” Sirius says, closing his menu and setting it aside. “Why are we here?”

James laughs, a shaky and uncertain thing that makes Remus borderline uncomfortable. “For dinner.”

“Yes, that much was understood. But why are we here, at Dumbledore’s, when I was told we were having chicken pot pie?”

“Change of pace! Change of scenery! Change of heart!”

Sirius turns to Lily, a confused frown on his face, “Is he on crack?”

“Something like that,” Lily mumbles.

“Enough of this nonsense!” James giggles, too loud for the quiet of the empty restaurant. “Let’s enjoy some dinner, yes? Yes. Okay!”

Remus and Sirius glance at each other skeptically, a silent conversation that’s been perfected over time, while Lily and James bicker with each other. Lily wins whatever silent argument they were having, a smug smile and she hums in content.

Dinner goes on without a hitch, James deciding they should really make a deal of it and ordering all kinds of appetizers and desserts to go with their entrees. Remus, who hadn’t eaten much today, decides not to question it and eats almost half the order of calamari by himself.

The check comes, Sirius and James fight over paying it while Lily and Remus sip on their wine. James wins, dramatically slapping his credit card down and beckoning their waiter over.

“So,” James slaps his hands on the table, almost pulling the pristine white tablecloth off. He pulls his lip in his mouth and nods awkwardly, everyone looking at him expectantly. James blinks a couple times before clearing his throat, “Was a good dinner.”

Lily picks her hand off the table. There’s a loud slapping noise and her hand is back and picking up her wine glass. She takes a giant sip while James clears his throat again and opens his mouth, ready to speak. He shuts his mouth and picks up his empty wine glass to drink.

“Did you guys have something to tell us?” Sirius asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Yes, James, do we?” Lily asks sternly, James faltering under her gaze and reaching over to down the rest of Sirius’ wine.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Sirius asks as he snatches his wine glass back from James, who uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, red wine staining the corners of his lips. James glances over at Lily again, big brown eyes wide and desperate, Lily gives a stern nod and gestures with her hand for him to go on.

James takes a deep breath and closes his eyes briefly before opening them, “You guys are getting married!”

And - what?

He’s getting married? Did he….forget? He doesn’t think he’d forget that…Chobani Vanilla yogurt, sure, but marriage? That seems like something Remus wouldn’t forget. But James is telling him he’s getting married, so…it’s always a possibility. Although, Sirius seems equally confused…his eyes are impossibly large. He blinks a few times and gives a quick glance down to his left hand. No ring.

“We’re what?” Sirius chokes.

“You’re getting married!” James grins, his head bobbing enthusiastically.

“Since when?”

“Right now!”

Sirius turns his head to face Remus, a look of disbelief on his face. “Am I having a stroke?”

“I don’t know,” Remus mumbles. “What are the odds you and I are having the same stroke?”

“Slim.”

“James, clarify,” Lily snaps.

“We’re asking you two to marry each other,” James smiles, as if that makes any sense at all.

“Better! Clarify better!”

“Do you, Sirius, take thee, Remus, to be your - ”

“No, James!” Lily sighs. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes before looking toward Remus, “We want the two of you to get married.”

“Maybe it’s not a stroke…maybe it’s a hallucination,” Remus mumbles.

“Aw,” Sirius coos. “Baby, we have the same hallucinations.”

“It’s not a hallucination,” Lily groans. “We’re proposing for you.”

“I…that…it doesn’t,” Sirius fumbles, his hands flailing in the air in dramatic gestures.

“That’s not how it works!” Remus laughs in delirium. He’s sweating.

“Not usually, no,” James nods. “But you guys were taking way too long and we really want to go to a wedding.”

“I’ve got this gorgeous purple dress that I really want to wear,” Lily smiles.

“Peter just got married!” Sirius squeals. “Wear it to the store! The dentist! To go get your fucking mail!”

“No, no, it’s really more of a spring wedding kind of dress,” James says sadly, Lily nodding along in agreement.

“This is a weird hallucination,” Remus says to himself.

“We’re thinking May,” Lily digs in her purse and pulls out a yellow legal pad, flipping until she finds a page titled Remus and Sirius’ Surprise Wedding! “Not too hot, not too cold. And Miss Martha is willing to move her yearly vacation to come.”

“Miss Martha got an invitation to our wedding before we did?” Sirius asks, his voice somehow shrill and hoarse.

“She’s officiating, silly!” James flicks him on his wrist, Sirius snatching his arm back with an impressive sneer. “Remus, I rented you a tux, but I wasn’t sure your pants size so I just took a guess.”

“…took a guess?”

“Mmhm,” James nods. “I measured a pair of your pants using my pinky and just compared it to the pants on the tux.”

“And you…rented a tux for my wedding?”

“Well, Remus,” Lily laughs. “We love you dearly, but a good tux is thousands of dollars. And we’re sort of planning everything else…”

“Because you made it up!”

“Speaking of planning,” James snaps his figures. “Would you prefer salmon or chicken? The caterer needs an answer.”

“The caterer…the caterer needs an answer?” Sirius asks.

“Yeah, they need a final answer ninety days before the wedding,” Lily says. “Chicken or salmon?”

“Ninety days before the wedding.”

“May 9th. Chicken or salmon, Sirius?” Lily says urgently as she repeatedly clicks her pen.

“Salmon,” Sirius answers quickly, probably in fear of Lily and her vicious pen clicking.

“Good choice,” she mumbles as she scribbles down Sirius: Salmon in her notepad and clicks her pen in rapid succession. “Remus?”

“The hallucination knows my name.”

Lily reaches over to snap her fingers in Remus’ face, “Not a hallucination. Chicken or salmon?”

“Stop it. Stop it right now and explain yourselves,” Remus snaps.

“We want you guys to get married,” James answers. “And our relationship knowledge and talents have worked on you guys before, so…”

“So, you just thought you’d try to meddle in our lives again?” Remus says.

James nods happily, not even bothering with the decency to look apologetic.

“You know,” Lily scoffs. “Peter and Emma appreciated our meddling very much. Gideon and Amelia are getting married in a month. Mary and Emmeline got married and are as happy as a pair of clams. You two,” she wags her finger in between Remus and Sirius, “Are the only ones who don’t appreciate our free service.”

“Your free service of nosing into our lives and making decisions and plans for us that we never asked for?” Sirius asks.

“Yes, that free service.”

“This is just…” Remus scoffs. “The both of you are ridiculous, you know that?”

“It was a stupid plan,” Sirius laughs. “It never would have worked. What, were you going to handcuff us and shove us down the aisle?”

James and Lily share a look, the tilt of James’ head and the raising of Lily’s eyebrow.

“No!” Remus yells. “There will be none of that.”

“We just wanted to make it easier on your guys,” Lily sniffs.

“You’re meddlesome and annoying and when we get married I am banning you from the premises,” Remus says.

“See!” James points a finger at him, “You do want to get married!”

“Yes, but, James, I’d like to decide when.”

James slumps back down in his chair with a huff. “You’re taking too long.”

“We’ve barely just met!” Remus yells.

“Come on, the first couple of years don’t count. So we’ve only been dating for - ”

“Ten years,” Lily cuts him off. “Ten years and no wedding. It’s a travesty, really.”

“Has it really been ten years?” Sirius mumbles as he counts on his fingers. Sirius leans in close to him a moment later, a hand covering his mouth so James and Lily can’t read his lips. “We could just do it.”

“We can’t just do that and let them think they can get away with planning out our life!” Remus scoffs.

“But they’ve totally planned the whole thing out, Remus,” Sirius whispers. “And they’ve already planned out us dating and moving in together, what’s one more thing?”

“It wouldn’t even be our wedding, then. It’ll have none of our own choices. We should pick the catering and the flowers and the fucking officiant.”

“Please. You and Lily are the same person in different fonts, anything she chose is what you would’ve chosen anyway.”

Remus ignores that, also distantly ignoring the part of his brain that’s telling him that James and Sirius are the same person, in the same font. He’s also deciding it’s irrelevant that he has never really cared about having a wedding - would actually be totally fine with going to the courthouse or having a simple ceremony with friends.

It’s the principle, is what it is. Lily and James can’t just go around behind their back and plan their lives for them! He can’t wait for them to plan another dinner in five years to Suprise! We’ve adopted you a baby!

But he does have an engagement ring buried in his sock drawer.

One that he was planning to use next month, a plain and simple gold band. He bought it two months ago. Because he wanted to and because he was folding the laundry and found a receipt in Sirius’ jeans from a jewelry store.

“I want someone else to officiate,” Remus finally concedes. “And I want to actually propose to my boyfriend before I marry him.”

“That seems like a very reasonable request,” Lily nods as she jots stuff down in her legal pad.

“Aw!” James coos. “Sirius! Congratulations, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks, Jamie. Isn’t it so exciting?” Sirius smiles widely, his eyes shiny and bright. “Now, tell me what you guys chose for flowers because I swear to God if you put roses in my wedding…”

“What’s wrong with roses?” Remus asks.

“What’s wrong with roses?” Sirius turns to him and sneers, a specific look that, amongst many others, is still only reserved for Remus.

“Yeah. They smell nice and they’re pretty.”

“They are not and you’ll take that back. The correct choice for a wedding would be hydrangeas.”

“I prefer roses.”

“Who prefers roses to hydrangeas? What, do you also prefer a DJ to a live band?”

“Well…a DJ would be easier.”

“It’s not supposed to be about being easier, Remus. This is our wedding.”

“Is it ours or is it yours?”

“Oh, so I don’t let you pick the flowers or the music and suddenly the wedding is all mine?”

“I can only imagine you won’t like my choices for anything else. What are your thoughts on cupcakes instead of a cake?”

“Ridiculous,” Sirius scoffs. “How about a venue?”

“Outside. Somewhere with lots of flowers and natural sunlight.”

“So I can sneeze midway through my vows? ‘I promise I’ll love you until I - achoo!’ No way.”

“Okay, fine, where do you want the wedding where only you will be present?” Remus huffs.

“At a museum. The one over on Knockturn Way with the beautiful stained glass windows.”

“The super dusty one? So I can sneeze midway through my vows? ‘I’ll have you and hold you from this day - achoo!’ Not happening.”

“I want an open bar.”

“I want to write our own vows.”

“I want to wear a white suit.”

“I want a candle-lit ceremony.”

“I want James’ mom to officiate.”

“I want - oh…well, yes, that I want too.”

“You can agree to that?”

“Of course I can agree to that.”

“We just made our first wedding plan!” Sirius smiles. He leans over and kisses Remus on the cheek, a wet and sloppy thing that Remus has to wipe away.

James brings his napkin up to his face to wipe away his tears, “Love is so beautiful. I’m just so happy for you guys. Where’s the honeymoon?” He laughs.

“I’m thinking somewhere in Europe,” Remus answers, at the same time Sirius says, “We should go to Hawaii!”