Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Paradise By The Dashboard Light

Remus Lupin is a creature of habit. 

Every morning he wakes at 7:30AM.

He begins his day by giving his old cat (Paul) a scratch on the head before filling her bowl up with wet food - he buys her the posh, expensive stuff which she appreciatively mewls at, before she tucks in. Paul is a decidedly fat cat. Remus knows it. The vet knows it. Paul, too, probably knows it. But Remus can’t help but spoil her rotten, and he knows she loves him for it. Paul, despite her name, is also a girl cat. Remus hadn’t really known much about cat anatomy when he’d found Paul as a kitten nearly 14 years ago (cold and wet and looking heart-wrenchingly frightened beside an old bin), so he’d assumed Paul was a boy. After a trip to the vets, and an in depth search for the owners of such a magnificent creature (because surely they were missing her, Remus had reasoned at the time) - two things became devastatingly clear: one, poor little Paul had been abandoned (which had made a 14 year old Remus tear up every night for two weeks at the mere sight of Paul snoring away on the end of his bed, all cosy and warm and loved unconditionally) and two, Paul was female. By this time it was too late. Remus had been calling her Paul for a week. He tried Pauline, but it just didn’t feel right. So, Paul stuck. Gender stereotypes be damned.

After Paul is fed, Remus eats a breakfast of granola and frozen berries with a splash of milk, and drinks his coffee (one heaped teaspoon, black, with a dash of cold water in the top) at the rickety old dining table in his little Yorkshire cottage, with the radio humming in the background; usually playing a song from the 70s, which is followed by the weather, then the traffic report, and then the news. Once the news segment finishes (this is usually between 7:52 and 7:57, depending on the current state of the world) he quickly washes his pots in the sink, leaving them on the rack to dry before shoving his feet into his wellies (throwing on his old, battered coat if it’s cold) and heading out into the garden. If it hasn’t rained through the night he takes the hosepipe and waters the plants, and if it has rained, he skips this and heads straight to the shed at the bottom of the garden to retrieve the large bag of cow feed. His garden backs onto a field where a local farmer keeps cows grazing. When he inherited the cottage from his mother, he’d agreed to continue feeding the cows and changing their water in the mornings, as his mother, who was good friends with the farmer, had, for the many years she lived there. When he’s refilled the troughs with food, and emptied the dirty water buckets, refilling them with fresh, it’s generally always around 8:15, so, he pats the nearest cow fondly on the head, and trudges back inside, leaving his wellies by the door (and hanging his coat up, if he’s warn one).

He hurries to the bathroom then, washing his hands to remove all the cow-dirt, before turning the shower on and sitting on the toilet as he waits for the water to warm up. The old pipes creak and groan as they start to work, and after a couple of minutes, Remus sticks his hand under the flow, checking the temperature, before throwing his leg over the side of the bath and folding his (six foot, four) body so that he’s under the stream. He’s always been too tall for this bathroom. His hair touches the roof if he stands up straight, and he can touch the bath, the sink and the door from the toilet, and when he stands in the shower, the jets only hit his shoulders, so he has to do an awkward-inconvenient-little-crouch-thing to wash his hair. He’d tried to use the bath once, after a lapse in judgement when he had considered it might be better than the shower, his knees had been at his chest and he couldn’t lie back unless he stuck his feet in the air, and all in all it hadn’t been a very relaxing experience - so he vowed that would be the last time he tried it. In the shower, he dips down to wet his hair, before lathering shampoo in the palm of his hand (Herbal Essences Daily Detox for All Hair Types, because he likes the smell of golden raspberry and mint) and rubs it into his scalp, making sure to clean behind his ears. After washing that out he saturates a flannel with shower gel (Milk and Honey Palmolive, 'cause it’s cheap and smells nice) and washes his entire body head to toe. His towel is waiting for him, warming up on the radiator, so when he jumps out of the shower he can quickly wrap it around his waist while he brushes his teeth, taking his meds in one gulp when he’s finished. In his bedroom, he applies deodorant (anti-perspirant, Dove Men Cool Fresh, because he hates the feeling of roll-on) and throws on one (of his five) work outfits, spraying himself with cologne and grabbing his keys, before slipping his feet into his Doc Martins (shoes, not boots), throwing on a coat (if he needs it), and heading out the door.

He hops into his 2006 Volkswagen Beetle, and by this time it’s usually 8:45 - which allows him five extra minutes for the ten minute commute to work in case of any traffic (there never is any, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry). He works at the library just outside of his village, which is beside a college, so it’s not as quiet as one might expect for a rural Yorkshire town, and he always makes it in good time, waving to the library assistant, Betty, on his way in. He makes a cup of tea (strong, two sugars, splash of milk), and gets to work.

His lunch hour is always at 1, and he always goes to the little cafe across the road - he has ever since it opened, a few years back. The owners are his friends, a married couple (Lily and James Evans-Potter) and they know his order by heart; a pot of tea and a toasted BLT (and on Fridays he treats himself to one of James’s delightful homemade brownies). Lily is from Yorkshire, she and Remus actually attended the same secondary school and had been acquaintances then, and James is from somewhere alarmingly posh, down south. The short story is that the two met and fell in love at university in Manchester. Or, the long story - James saw Lily at a party during fresher's week in their first year and didn’t give in until she agreed, finally, to go out with him in their third year, they worked a while in the city, before Lily started to miss home, so they moved back, and fulfilled Lily's lifelong dream and opened a cafe - funded heavily by James's wealthy parents; so the story goes.

When his lunch hour is up he leaves seven pounds on the table, even though his order only comes to six pounds twenty, and heads back to work to finish his day. He gets off at half five, but usually hangs around to avoid traffic, giving the place a little tidy up and putting away any books that have been left out - he’s always home for quarter past six though, and, once he’s in, he changes out of his work clothes and into a pair of joggers and a jumper and starts on his dinner. By eight o clock he’s curled up on the sofa, with either a book, or a film on the television (that only works 60% of the time), Paul snoozing on his lap, until he finds himself dozing off - usually at around half past ten, and he takes himself up to bed, Paul, ever Remus’s shadow, following closely behind him - and he’s ready to do it all again the next day.

His weekends are slightly less rigid. But he likes it. He likes the routine of it and he likes that it stays the same. He doesn’t feel like the world would end if something was a little bit different one day, but he just likes the familiarity of it all. So long as the change was only a minor inconvenience, he could grit his teeth and bare it - life happens. He does, however, absolutely hate the idea of something coming along and making a big mess of it all

Cue Sirius Black.

Whilst Remus is a creature of habit, Sirius is a whirlwind. 

It’s a normal day for Remus. A lovely day. A mundane and run-of-the-mill Wednesday. His day, by all accounts, is the exact same as the day before, which was exactly the same as the day before that. He’s just got back from his lunch and is working on cataloging a new order of books that have recently come in, when the bell above the library door chimes and in walks, quite possibly, the most beautiful man Remus has ever seen. He’s all long dark hair in waves to his chin and a leather jacket that looks wildly out of place in a library that’s prime demographic is A-level students and OAPs. He can see tattoos poking out from under the low collar of his shirt, and his jeans are skin tight and a faded black. When he moves to tuck his hair behind his ear, Remus is sure he can see a little hoop earring hugging his lobe. Somehow, despite the look of quintessential rebellion, he appears rather aristocratic. His features are harsh lines, his cheekbones high and his jawbone strong, he’s shorter than Remus, but that isn’t a surprise (everyone is), but he’s by no means short - pushing 5’11 with his chunky boots on. His shoulders are broad, waist slight, and though he’s fairly hidden by the large jacket, Remus is certain he’s toned under there. Then he lifts his eyes and Remus swears some little creature has crawled inside his body and mistaken his lungs for a wet wash-cloth as the air is, not just squeezed, but wrung out, from them. His eyes are the most curious shade of grey - not the sort of blue-grey you see every now and then, more of a silver-grey, a perfect mixture of just-white and just-black, entirely void of colour, but in the most exquisite and stunning sort of way. The corners of the man’s lips quirk upwards as he meets Remus’s gaze, and Remus struggles to get his facial muscles to cooperate as he smiles back, and chastises himself for that. He’s a customer, Remus, pull yourself together, you’re not a silly schoolboy anymore, he thinks, not that anyone that fit would go for you anyway, his subconscious, rather cruelly, adds. Years ago Remus had dated, but he found it to be far too awkward and uncomfortable and he preferred his own company anyway. Every few months he’d find himself a one-night rendezvous, either on a dating app (though he loathed the fact) or when he’d go out for drinks at the weekend with either Lily, or Marlene and Dorcas, but he’d ensure they’d go to the other person’s house, and he’d slip out before morning and hope to never see them again. Sometimes, particularly in the winter, when it was dark and cold, he’d watch a romance and feel a pang of loneliness, but that would quickly subside as the credits rolled and he fell back into daily life - forgotten easily. He hadn’t felt that particular lurch in his stomach that one gets when they see someone they fancy, for years - not until that very moment, when the mystery man is smiling at him and his insides are quite literally somersaulting.

Remus, red-cheeked and feeling rather flustered, quickly turns back to his work, hoping the man finds what he needs and leaves and never comes back (save for returning the book he lets). It seems, however, that Remus’s luck has run out, as he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder, and turns, only to be face to face with the pretty stranger. He startles slightly, stumbling backwards, steadied by the man’s hand catching Remus’s forearm, and, thank god Remus is wearing his cardigan because he thinks if they were skin to skin he might just combust and die on the spot. As the man nears, Remus is overwhelmed by the smell of cigarettes and spearmint, and while usually he’d wrinkle his nose and struggle to hide his disdain, he finds he quite likes it on him, and suddenly feels rather drunk on the smell. His eyes search the library floor, desperate to pass him onto Betty, but his heart sinks as he sees her sat with Artie - battling to get the ancient computers to work. He takes a deep breath and steels himself to look the handsome stranger in the eyes. 

“Careful,” The stranger chuckles. And, god, his voice. Remus thinks he hates him already. His stupid beautiful face and his voice that’s low and sultry, laughing like this is the easiest thing in the world (Remus supposes that for him it is the easiest thing in the world - after all, unlike Remus, he’s not trying to function in front of a god-amongst-men). “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump. I’m Sirius. Sirius Black.” Remus shakes himself then, swallowing the panic down - or at least, trying to. He has an accent just like James’s, that’s so posh it sticks out like a sore-thumb in such a rural part of Yorkshire, where 't’s and ‘h’s are dropped and the word ‘the’ doesn’t exist and all vowels are flat and short.

“Like the dog star?” His mouth says, before his brain has chance to catch up. He doesn’t get the chance to apologise for his blunder as Sirius is barking out a laugh and it’s absolutely, without a doubt, the single most glorious thing Remus has ever heard. He feels himself go pink. “Sorry, sorry - that was quite rude. I’m Remus. Lupin. Remus Lupin,” 

“Like the wolf-child?” Sirius quips, and Remus finds himself laughing, shocked Sirius is aware of the obscurity behind his name. 

“Like the wolf child.” Remus affirms, nodding. 

“Eccentric,” 

Remus hums in response. “Anyway, what can I do for you?” 

“I wondered if you could point me in the direction of books about family law?” 

Remus gives him a curious look, noting such a strange request, but the look staring back at him seems stubborn and defiant, so Remus decides not to question it, and guides him over to the small ‘law’ section of the library. 

“It’s too small to separate into different branches of law, but it’s sorted alphabetically from the author’s last name. If you know some names of family lawyers, or titles, it will be easier than trying to read and decipher the spines.” 

Sirius looks defeated for a fleeting moment, and Remus realises Sirius has neither a specific author, nor a specific book in mind. “I’ll search online and have a scan over these books,” Sirius smiles, signalling the phone in his pocket. 

“I’d say we have computers, but they’re so old and useless, you’d definitely be better looking on your phone,” 

“Thanks, Remus,”

Remus nods, and, finding there is nothing left to say, turns on his heel and heads back to his work. He abandons cataloguing, and, against his better judgement, goes to his desk and flicks on his work laptop which is, luckily, newer and more reliable than the library computers. He opens the software they use to log all the books they have, and the books that are being borrowed, and clicks on the search bar. He types ‘family law’ and a list comes up. There are five currently in and one being borrowed. He then double clicks on the ‘available to order’ button, and brings up a list of twenty (!) more books. He doesn’t know why he does it, but he presses ‘print screen’ and puts it down to being dedicated to his job. The old printer makes too much noise as it spits out the list of books available and books to order, and Remus snatches it up, heading over to the table Sirius is sat at before he changes his mind. 

“These are all the books we have in,” Remus says, motioning towards the first list as he slides the paper in front of Sirius, snapping him out of the trance he’s in as he stares perplexedly at his phone. “on family law,” he softens his voice, his mouth going dry as Sirius stares up at him with wide eyes and a soft smile. “and these,” he motions to the bottom list, “are the books we can order. We do it all the time, if someone comes in and needs a book we don’t have, we can check on the system and order it from a different library, if it’s available,” 

“Thank you,” Sirius smiles at him, gratefully. “I wouldn’t have known where to start-“ 

“That’s okay,” Remus breathes. He’s about to leave again when he sees Sirius is still looking at the bit of paper as though it’s a puzzle to solve. “Tell me to bugger off if you think it’s not my place, or you know what you’re doing and don’t need my input, but, if I were you, I’d suggest researching each book and finding which of them has the speciality you’re looking for. One might be based more heavily on finances, while another focuses on marriage - no point sifting through the ones you don’t need. Just have a quick google of all the names and filter out the ones that are irrelevant to your research.”

Sirius sighs, leaning back on his chair and rubbing his hand over his face. Remus tries not to audibly gasp as his t-shirt rides up and exposes a sliver of skin on his stomach. “Is it so obvious I’ve no idea what I’m doing?” Sirius chuckles. 

“Of course not!” Sirius gives him a pointed look. “Okay, maybe a little, but most people who come in don’t know where to start - and this is my job.” Sirius nods, and a silence falls between them, so Remus shoots him a half smile and straightens up. “Just - just give me a shout if you need any help,”

“Thanks,” Sirius nods again, and Remus disappears back into his office. 

At twenty past five the library is empty save for Remus, Sirius and Betty. Remus hasn’t spoken to Sirius again, but finds himself walking over to the little corner Sirius has secluded himself in. Sirius has his head in a book, his brow creased as his eyes scan the words, concentrating hard. 

“Hey,” Remus says gently, so not to startle the other man. Sirius’s eyes shoot up, and the lines on his face soften out as he meets Remus’s gaze. “The library closes in ten minutes, just to let you know.” 

“Okay, thanks,” Sirius smiles back, scribbling a note of the page number he’s on on the back of his hand, before closing the book and putting it back on the shelf. 

“You know you can take it out - that’s what libraries are for,” Remus teases, earning a grin from Sirius. 

“I don’t have a card,” Sirius shrugs, and Remus tuts, rolling his eyes playfully. 

“Well we can sort you one out, literally right now,” 

“Nah. It’s late and I think I’d rather come back - I’ll never concentrate at my mate’s house,” Remus thinks the word ‘mate’ feels forced and unnatural on such a posh tongue, but he keeps it to himself. Sirius speaks again after a moment of silence, where Remus realises he should have responded. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay!” Remus exclaims, recoiling at his eagerness, blushing furiously and kicking himself on the inside for being such an embarrassment of a human being. He scratches his neck awkwardly, clearing his throat, trying to regain just a fraction of his dignity, “I mean it’s a public library, you’re well within your right,” 

Sirius just smirks back at him, and it makes Remus want to dissolve into a puddle right there and then. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Sirius says, before he basically swaggers out of the door. Remus wants to collapse from exhaustion. An oxymoronic feeling of dread and exhilaration swirl inside of him at the thought of tomorrow and he hurries home that night, praying Sirius finds a bigger and better library that has an entire room dedicated to family law so Remus can go back to his predictable-but-pleasant life.  

Remus knows that thought was far too optimistic, but he feels just as startled seeing Sirius for the second time as he waltzes into the library the next day. He’s wearing the same leather jacket and the same skinny jeans, this time with a shirt that looks well worn, with the image of David Bowie plastered across the front (as if Remus couldn’t swoon anymore - David Bowie is one of his top-three-all-time-favourite-artists). His hair is pulled back into a messy knot at the nape of his neck, the hoop earring clearly visible today, and the air is knocked out of Remus’s lungs all over again. Sirius flashes Remus a lazy grin as he approaches, and Remus finds himself, once again, engulfed in the smell of cigarettes and spearmint - Sirius idly chewing on a piece of gum, which makes Remus’s stomach lurch more than it should. 

“Morning,” Sirius greets. It’s technically the afternoon as it’s just past twelve, but Remus doesn’t bother to correct him.

“Hello,” Remus smiles, busying himself by putting away some misplaced books. 

“I researched all the books and whittled them down - there’s a few I’d like to order in, if that’s okay?” 

“Course. You go and pop your things down, I’ll be over in a minute to make a note,” 

Sirius nods, hitching his bag further up his shoulder and trudging over to the same table he occupied the previous day. Remus uses the moment alone to take a deep breath and pull himself together, silencing the whirring of his brain before grabbing a notepad and a pen and going to sit beside Sirius. He’s removed his jacket, and Remus cannot help but shamelessly rake his eyes over Sirius’s arms. The shirt is tight to his biceps, which are lovely and toned, his forearms veiny, connecting to the most beautiful hands Remus has ever seen. The best part, though, is that he’s absolutely covered in tattoos. Ink embellishes the skin from his fingers right up to the sleeve of his shirt, and Remus feels a pull of desire to explore the hidden map under the material. It’s like art on top of art and he’s basically a walking exhibition and Remus wants to study every inch of him. The tattoos are intricate and beautiful and he has to physically force himself to meet Sirius’ eye, who’s looking back at him with a gentle smile, eyes soft and crinkled, cheekbones even more heavily defined. 

All at once it feels like Remus has a thousand questions. What is Sirius doing here? A man like Sirius is such an anomaly in a town like this. Where has he come from? And, why here? Of all the places in the world? Remus wonders how Sirius even knows about this place - he’s so clearly from somewhere that’s worlds apart from here, and it’s not as though it’s a place people ever really visit. Why is he in this shitty little library when there’s an entire world full of better ones where he could find the information he needs in an instant? Why is he even researching family law? He doesn’t look old enough to need a divorce, and there’s no way a law student would come all the way to study here. He realises, however, the thing he most wants to know is, - who the fuck is Sirius Black?

“Remus?” Sirius nudges, and he has to stop himself from shuddering at the sudden contact and the sound of his name on Sirius’s tongue. 

“Sorry,” Remus coughs, snapping back to reality. “So which titles are you wanting me to order in?”

Sirius reaches into his bag and pulls out a list that he’s scribbled the names on - even his handwriting is endearing. As he moves, the sleeve of his shirt hitches up a little and Remus catches sight of a large crescent moon tattooed on his inner bicep. 

“I love that,” Remus says, nodding towards the ink as Sirius looks up at him questioningly.

“This?” Sirius smiles, turning his arm so that Remus can get a better look. Remus can’t help but run his finger along the intricate lines. 

“Sorry, I don’t know why I did that-“ Remus blushes, pulling away. Sirius merely grins, waving him away. “Sorry, I just saw it - and I sort of have this whole thing about moons and-“ 

“Because of the wolf-y name?”

“Partially,” Remus shrugs, and Sirius gives him a quizzical look, urging him to explain further. “It’s nothing- stupid, really. I just- I have this scar, one of many,” he motions to the various scars across his face and body, “that’s shaped like a moon and my friends- my friends call me moony,” 

“Can I see? I showed you mine.” Sirius asks, hopefully. Remus quickly shakes his head. 

“It’s across my back - can’t be stripping off at my place of work, now, can I?” He chuckles, and Sirius averts his gaze, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and smiling to himself as he feels his own cheeks blush a little. 

“How did you-“ Sirius begins, but Remus shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He hates talking about his scars, he hates drawing attention to them. Sirius seems to pick up on this. “Sorry, that was tactless. Ignore me, I’m far too nosy for my own good,” 

“No, it’s okay. Just an accident when I was younger,” he shrugs, and luckily, Sirius drops it. “Do you mind me asking why you’re looking up family law?” 

Sirius’s eyes widen momentarily as they meet Remus’s, and he too begins to fidget in his chair, scratching the back of his neck and coughing as he tries to think of something to say. 

“So maybe we’re both a little nosy and a little tactless - sorry, you don’t have to answer that. Even?”

Sirius nods gratefully and opens his mouth to speak, but he is interrupted by Betty, who sticks her head around the corner; 

“Remus, it’s past 1,” She informs him, her eyes flitting emphatically between him and Sirius, a smirk forming on her face. 

“Shit,” He murmurs, checking his watch and realising he’s already ten minutes into his lunch break. “I’ll leave you to it and I'll get these books ordered when I’m back,” 

Sirius tries not to look too disappointed as Remus’s tall frame rises from the seat beside him.

When Remus arrives at the cafe (twelve minutes later than usual) he’s met by the whirlwind that is Lily Evans-Potter. 

“I was about to send out a search party. Three years you’ve been coming here and not once have you been late!” She huffs, half genuine concern and half jest. “Care to tell us what held you up for an entire twelve minutes?” 

Remus looks down, fighting the blush that’s inevitably rising to his cheeks and looking to James for help, who just laughs and shakes his head helplessly. “Just got caught up helping someone is all.” He shrugs, feebly. 

“Oh my god! You fancy him!” She squeals. He wonders how Lily so easily manages to see right through him. She throws off her apron and turns to James. “James, hold the fort. Make Remus’s usual and me a coffee,” 

“Please-" Remus squeaks, and the couple laugh. 

“Yes ma’am,” James salutes. 

Lily ushers Remus over to his usual table and sits across from him, and Remus hates himself for being so transparent. “Tell me everything! Who is he? What’s he like? Oh my god, all the years I’ve known you you’ve never properly fancied anyone.” 

“No one! Lily it’s no one, you’ve got the wrong idea!” He insists, but Lily just looks at him pointedly and he crumbles. “Okay, but - I’ve only seen him twice! It’s nothing crazy! It’s just a good looking man who came in yesterday, and also this morning - he’s just, it was just - I’m not used to fit men showing up at my work - it’s knocked me off balance, okay? Nothing’s going to happen, he just happens to be a very attractive man - anyone with eyes would fancy him!” 

“How fit are we talking?” Lily laughs, and Remus buries his face in his hands for what feels like the hundredth time that day. 

“Oh God, Lily he’s just about the fittest thing I’ve ever seen. Like, carved by Aphrodite herself type of beautiful,” He sighs, any ounce of dignity still remaining launching right out of the window. Lily lets out a noise that’s halfway between a giggle and a squeal. “Stop getting excited! Nothing’s going to happen!” 

“And why not?” 

“Because- he’s just so ahhh,” He makes a dreamy sort of gesture - clearly unable to articulate Sirius’s beauty in words, “and I’m so bleugh,” That earns him a slap around the head from Lily. “And I’m not the relationship sort, y’know? Tried and tested, and didn’t enjoy-"

“Maybe that’s because it wasn’t with the right person,” 

“Lils,” He laughs, “if you saw him, you would immediately see why the two of us would never be functional. We’re chalk and cheese.” 

“Just try not to shut it down completely, alright?” She sighs, as James brings over their drinks. “You never know, it could be something good.” 

Sirius stays until they close again, and waves at Remus on his way out. 

“He’s positively dreamy,” Betty nudges Remus, smirking up at him. 

“Yes, he’s a good looking bloke,” Remus agrees, busying himself with some paperwork. 

“You should snatch him up while you can, heavens knows I would,” 

“I’ll tell that to Bobby shall I?” 

“Oh, give over,” She laughs, batting him with a newspaper. “Bobby would be happy to have a break from me after forty years.” 

“I’m sure that’s not true,” 

“Well, in forty years time, see how you and that pretty boy feel about each other-"

“Betty!” Remus gasps, laughing heartily at his library assistant. “Please don’t embarrass me in front of him,” 

“Oh, I knew you had a thing for him, it was all over your face. But no promises,” She grins, pinching his cheeks. 

“Is it really that obvious?” He groans, and she just laughs as she slips on her coat and waves goodbye. 

Sirius continues coming to the library for the next two weeks, and still, Remus is unable to keep his cool whenever he’s around. They’ve fallen into a routine of their own. Sirius comes in just after twelve, usually with coffee; one for himself, one for Remus, and a tea for Betty. The two chat until Remus goes on his lunch, where he is assaulted with questions from Lily, which he pointedly ignores. He lets Sirius while away the afternoon researching, stealing glances at him and blushing furiously when Sirius catches his eye and sends a smirk his way - which happens too often for Remus’s liking. More often than not, Sirius will call him over and they’ll chat well into the afternoon - until Remus regretfully pulls himself away on the premise of doing some actual work. 

It’s been months since Remus got his end away and the arrival of Sirius seems to have stirred something within him. He puts his thoughts and behaviour down to the fact he hasn’t had sex in months. So, begrudgingly, he finds himself on tinder, mindlessly swiping left and right, hoping to find a man who is somewhat acceptable - acceptable enough to rid him of the incessant thoughts of Sirius, anyway. The universe, however, seems to have it out for him as he swipes left on a faceless profile claiming to be ‘straight’ and ‘looking for a discrete NSA’ only to land on Sirius himself. 

So he’s gay, Remus thinks, or at least somewhat into men.  He chides himself for feeling a flutter of joy at that fact. Just because he likes men does not mean he will like you, the voice in his head taunts.

He scrolls carefully through the profile, scrutinising every photo. There are four pictures in total. The first is of Sirius in some seemingly very hot country, a white t shirt clinging to his torso as he looks out towards a vast expanse of ocean, laughing at something someone has said and shielding his eyes from the sun with his forearm. His tattoos are visible through the thin fabric, and his hair sits on the crown of his head in a bun. Remus is taken aback that someone could be so effortlessly beautiful.

The next is of Sirius holding his wine glass up to the camera at a fancy looking dinner, donning a fitted white shirt unbuttoned to his ribcage, exposing the tattoos that sit pretty on his chest. Remus certainly does not think about how he wants to lick every single inch of tattooed skin on Sirius’s body.

He suddenly feels self-conscious as he thinks of his own Tinder photos - just one of him and Dorcas that Marlene had taken a few months back, one of him that Lily had snapped without him knowing when he was engrossed in a book at the cafe, and a selfie of him planting a kiss on Paul’s head. He tries to shake off the feeling of inadequacy - Sirius is, after all, leagues above any other normal human - he’s an Adonis, for Christ sake.

The next picture makes Remus’s heart physically clench, so much so he has to take a moment to compose himself, catch his breath, and ensure he isn’t going into cardiac arrest. It’s Sirius, his hair all lovely and messy, he’s looking more casual than Remus has ever seen him, in a big hoodie, smiling the brightest of smiles. It isn’t necessarily the photo of Sirius that makes Remus’s heart feel as though it’s going to implode (though that certainly doesn’t help), it’s the fact that that wonderful, world-stopping, heart-attack-inducing smile is directed at a little boy cradled into Sirius’s chest, skin dark and hair wild, hands tangled in Sirius’s hair as he laughs like kids do. The fondness in Sirius’s expression is so raw and authentic you can practically feel it through the screen. Surely the kid isn’t Sirius’s? Is that why he’s researching family law? Remus thinks. His questions are answered as he notices the end of Sirius’s bio: ‘the kid is my godson’.

Finally feeling as though he’s recovered from the emotional rollercoaster of seeing Sirius with a child, Remus flicks onto the last photo - and he is totally unprepared for what he sees. He gasps, breathing in the mouthful of pinot he’s just taken, sputtering it all over the coffee table as his mind tries to comprehend what he’s just seen. Sirius. Arm in arm. In front of a Christmas tree. With James Potter. 

Remus thinks he might just explode. They’ll come looking for him when he doesn’t turn up to work on Monday morning and there’ll just be Remus chunks stuck to the walls and the floor and spattered all over the furniture, his phone still unlocked, the smiling faces of Sirius and James bloody Potter looking up at the poor sod who’s found him. Sirius will be the death of him. He’s absolutely sure of it.

He decides to store that information for later. He doesn’t want to go blabbering to Lily and have Lily blabbering to James which in turn will have James blabbering to Sirius which will mean Sirius will never return to the library out of sheer disgust that the weird librarian fancies him. No. He thinks, he’ll subtly ask Lily about it when he sees her on Monday. Maybe. 

Shaking off this new revelation that Sirius and James know each other (though he shouldn’t be surprised, their accents are identical - both posh and overt) he continues scrolling through the Tinder profile. The bio reads; ‘my friends call me Padfoot, but you can call me tonight. // (the kid is my godson)’. Remus rolls his eyes at this, shocked someone seemingly so couth and collected would have something so ridiculous as his Tinder bio. Unsurprisingly, his Spotify anthem is ‘Blackstar’ by David Bowie, because, of course it is. 

After studying every single thing about the profile, Remus finds himself hovering. To swipe right, or to not swipe right. Of course he wants to swipe right. Previously, when he’s comes across people that he knows as he’s scrolling through the app, he’s given them a like and they’ve matched and had a catch up and a laugh about it all. It’s harmless. He always swipes right on the people that he knows. So why not Sirius? In a fuck-it sort of moment, he swipes right and holds his breath; if he comes to regret it he can always swiftly unmatch.

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut he waits for the world to crumble around him, and when he realises the world is very much still there and solid, he pries one eye open. He’s not sure what to expect. He doesn’t expect Sirius to match with him - why would he? But still, he feels a horrible dull ache in his chest as he looks back at the screen of his phone, the profile of the next boy staring back at him, realising he and Sirius did not match. Groaning and trying his hardest not to feel disheartened (this is an unsuccessful feat) he locks his phone and throws it onto the arm chair across the room, finishing his glass of wine and ripping his book from the coffee table, sighing sulkily as he pulls open to the page he left at. 

He finds he feels slightly better after losing himself in the world of Oscar Wilde for a couple of hours. Dorian Gray seems to have dulled the disappointment of not matching with Sirius and he’s almost completely forgotten about the entire thing. Almost. Sighing, he begrudgingly reaches for his phone from the arm chair. He has only a handful of notifications - one from BBC News detailing some horrid thing some horrid Tory has said, one from his old friend Pete insisting they go for a catch-up pint soon, and the last - arguably the more exciting of the notifications - is from tinder. 

‘You’ve got a new match 😍😍😍 ’

‘Sirius sent you a new message’

Remus is quite sure his heart has fallen out of his arse. The notification came through an hour ago, meaning he hadn’t had to sit and sulk for the last two hours - not that he didn’t enjoy Oscar Wilde and a bottle of Pinot on a quiet Friday night - but, still. After checking his underpants and ensuring that A) his heart isn’t sat in his gusset and B) he hasn’t quite shit himself (yet), he unlocks his phone and quickly opens the Tinder app. He almost jumps for joy as he realises his mind hasn’t been playing cruel tricks on him and Sirius really is in his Tinder DMs.

‘Fancy seeing you here ;)’  

Remus thinks that of all the cardiac arrest false alarms of the night this has been the closest one. A wink?! That is surely suggestive. He swallows down that tormenting hopeful feeling - knowing full well he should not indulge in it - and wills his logic to kick in. Sirius is flirty by nature, outgoing and charismatic and extroverted and a notorious funny-man. Of course he would send Remus a flirty message, a jokey message. Remus’s fingers hover over the keyboard. Must think of witty, endearing response to woo pretty-boy, he thinks, and then once again reprimands himself - there shall be no wooing of a man who is an M&S cheese platter while you, Remus Lupin, are at best an Aldi’s finest pack of cheesy singles.  He’s going fucking insane, he decides, having to stop mid-thought about the type of cheese he and all prospective past and future partners were and may be. 

‘The one and only :)’ 

Remus sends back, chewing on the nail of his thumb, before typing out another message and hitting send. 

‘I expected more from you - ‘you can call me tonight’? That’s abysmal’ 

Only a few moments later (Remus has been sat staring at his open screen, a horrible mixture of terror and anxiety swirling in his belly, mixing with the wine to make a nausea inducing concoction)  Remus sees the three little dots indicating that Sirius is typing. 

S: Oh no, have I ruined my whole mysterious-bad-boy persona? :(

R: You didn’t have one to ruin x 

S: A kiss?! Are you flirting with me, Remus Lupin? X

Remus tries to stop the furious blush that rises up his neck and invades his cheeks, despite the fact nobody is around to see it. 

R: Just softening the blow of disappointment as I tell you that you are not, in fact, mysterious, nor are you a bad boy, no matter how much leather you wear. 

S: You wound me. And to think, it was all for you :P 

S: PS. pls don’t say ‘softening’ and ‘blow’ in a sentence, you’ll get me all hot and bothered.

R: Blowjob talk? How very low-brow of you. 

S: Only for you, sweetcheeks xxx

R: Bet you say that to all of your tinder boys 

S: I do no such thing! And I don’t appreciate the insinuation. You have my heart and I am devoted to you and you only. 

R: You hardly know me. Flirt. 

S: We can change that ;) 

At this point Remus’s heart is thundering so hard it’s a wonder it hasn’t given way. He’s joking - he must be joking, must be having him on.

R: Sooo, men?

S: What about them?

R: You’re into them?

S: No, I’m just on gay tinder for the fun of it. 

S: Of course I’m into them! Don’t tell me you couldn’t tell?

R: Could you tell? 

R: That I was into them, I mean. 

S: Actually I thought you and Betty had something beautiful going on. 

R: Ah yes, she’s quite the cougar. Best not mention you’ve found me on here. Wouldn’t want to break an old lady’s heart - and she’s pushing 70, so it is rather fragile. 

S: Your secret’s safe with me ;) 

R: Also, I didn’t realise you knew James Potter? Although I should’ve known really - you’re the only Southerners in the village - same posh accent and everything. 

S: You know James? 

R: I’ve eaten lunch at his cafe every working day for two years. I’m closer with Lily though - we went to school together.

S: James is my brother. 

R: Wait, what?

S: I know , I know. I am very much caucasian and he is very much not. He’s my adopted brother - sort of, unofficially. Known him since I was 11 - we went to boarding school together. I lived with him and his parents from being fifteen, until we went to uni. Spend all my holidays there, too. Christmas and such. They’re family.

S: The kid in my third photo is James and Lily’s 

R: That’s Harry?! Oh! I should have known - he’s the spit of James. Never met him - I usually only see the two of them at the pub if we're not at the cafe. 

R: Also, boarding school? Should’ve known that too I suppose :P 

S: Hey, boarding school was the best! Even if it does make me a posh ponce ;) 

S: I’m staying with them at the moment, they’re having a little gathering tomorrow. You should come?! 

It was time for Remus to panic. Seeing Sirius outside of the library setting? Knowing that he knows Lily and James? And that they had organised this on Tinder? Was it a date? Surely not. A friendly invitation?

R: Oh, I’m not sure - I wouldn’t want to impose

S: Come on, Lils would love to have you there. 

S: And, I’d quite like to see you too - you know, not at the library.

R: You would? 

S: Obviously.

S: Everyone will be there in couples - if you won’t come as my date, will you at least come as moral support? (and, yes, you will have to hold my hand)

For the second time Remus finds himself wiping up pinot from the table as he’s sputtered out his mouthful in shock. Date? Handholding? He must be dreaming. 

R: I’ll go as your date. 

His hands are trembling and he thinks he might throw up. He cannot believe this is happening. That someone like Sirius would want to go on a date with him. This has to be some big elaborate prank.

S: Yeah?

R: Yeah:) if you’ll have me 

S: Of course! It would be an honour ;) Can I get your number? 

R: How long have you been waiting to drop that line, Black? 

S: Since the moment I set eyes on you, my beloved ;) 

Remus gives Sirius his number, and after a few minutes they’re shooting texts back and forth.

R: Are you sure Lily and James are okay with me coming?

S: They will be, Lily’s just put Harry down for the night, so I’ll ask. 

Not two minutes after receiving that message, Lily is blowing up Remus’ phone. 

L: YOU KNOW SIRIUS? SINCE WHEN? 

L: OH MY GOD - HE’S FIT LIBRARY GUY? I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW HE WAS GOING TO THE LIBRARY?!

L: THIS IS GREAT

L: BEST NEWS EVER  

L: OH WE CAN GO ON DOUBLE DATES AND YOU AND SIRIUS CAN BABYSIT HARRY AND IT WILL JUST BE THE MOST WONDERFUL THING  

L: AGHSDFHSJHFAIOR

R: Slow down! Let’s get date one out of the way first!

L: DATE?! 

R: Yes. Your gathering? He’s invited me as his date. God knows why, have you seen him?

R: DON’T tell him I said that. 

L: Course I’ve seen him! Have you seen you? You are gorgeous. If James and I hadn’t been happily married when you starting dining at the cafe I’d have snapped you up myself!  

R: He’s only invited me ‘cause he doesn’t want to be the only one without a date. 

L: Oh, don’t be dense, Remus. He fancies you. You tool. He’s been on about a mystery man for ages, said he just met him out and about. I’m trying to process why he’s in the bloody library of all places.

Remus wonders whether he should tell Lily that Sirius is there everyday studying family law, but clearly that’s something he doesn’t want Lily knowing about, it only adds to the mystery of him - and he adds it to the growing list of things he wants to find out about Sirius. Why in the bloody hell is he studying family law? (A question he has pondered since he first met Sirius, and was yet to understand) And why the bloody hell hasn’t he told Lily? He decides not to disclose the reason for Sirius’s library visits - and luckily, he is saved by Lily sending another message.

L: You’re perfect for each other - by the way. Proper ying and yang - you’ll balance each other nicely.

R: I reiterate my first message. Slow down! Date one first. 

L: He best take you on a proper first date - a few drinks and Mexican food at ours is hardly a date. 

L: Excited for you, Re. See you tomorrow. Xxx

R: Lily seems very pleased. 

S: You should see her. She won’t leave me alone.

R: She also doesn’t seem to know you go to the library? Your dirty little secret??

S: You are ;) 

R: I meant the library. 

S: And you’re as much a part of that fantasy as the books and the ancient computers ;) 

S: They’re at work all day every day, so they don’t really know if I’m here or there - I tell them I just explore the town and make use of the scenic walks Yorkshire has that London doesn’t, and whatnot. They needn’t know about my secret love affair with the library. 

R: Never knew the library could be so scandalous. 

S: I’m not ashamed ;) 

S: If they know I’m at the library, they’ll want to know why, and I don’t have the energy for that conversation. 

R: I get that. 

R: I’ll let you keep your air of mystery - I won’t ask any more questions. 

S: I’ll tell them eventually, when my research is complete. Can’t have James sticking that ginormous nose in my studies and mucking it all up. 

R: James has a perfectly normal sized nose. 

S: Lily is bombarding me with questions. Send help.

R: No can do. Good luck! Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow. 

S: I’ll come and get you at 8. 

S: Night, Moony X 

R: On Moony terms are we? 

S: Absolutely. Been dying to call you it since you nearly ripped my arm off looking at my tattoo. Keypad courage ;) 

S: You can call me Padfoot (or tonight. Whatever works) ;) 

R: Abysmal. 

R: Goodnight, Padfoot. 

S: Xxxxx

Remus clutches his phone to his chest, unable to stop himself grinning up at the ceiling and letting out an excited squeal, flailing his legs under the covers - he feels like a pre-teen all over again, but it’s a nice feeling. He drifts off to sleep with thoughts of Mexican food, inked skin, raven hair and the smell of cigarettes. 

Nerves, Remus thinks, are funny things. They make you act in the most peculiar of ways. As such, nerves are the exact reason Remus is awake at 6:30 AM - an entire hour before he would normally wake - pacing his kitchen and drinking his coffee at an ungodly pace. It’s too early to feed the cows. It’ll just throw them off. And Paul is still sleeping on Remus’s bed - her internal clock knows it’s not breakfast time yet. 

He’s going on a date. A date. After swearing blindly to whatever higher power there might be that dating wasn’t for him, he’s going on a bloody date. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the microwave, and decides he needs to do something about his appearance ASAP. That’s how he finds himself, at 6:42AM, in front of the TV, huffing, panting and sweating it out to Davina McCall’s Fitness DVD, 30 Day Fat Burn (not that he has 30 days or really much fat to burn - but still, he hopes the exercise will A) knacker him out so he’s not so fidgety and nervous, or B) make him at least fractionally more toned). 

He regrets this decision almost immediately as he hasn’t gone out of his way to “work out” in years, and thus, he feels as though he’s about to throw up his morning coffee. He curses Davina for making it look so easy and gives up halfway through, flopping down on the sofa and clutching his chest dramatically, like every breath is his last. His mother always said he had a flare for dramatics. 

After a few moments restoring the oxygen levels in his body and furiously wiping the sweat from his brow, he decides it’s time for breakfast for himself and Paul, before he can finally go out and feed the cows. When his morning routine is finished, he realises that, despite Davina’s gruelling work-out, he’s still filled with nervous energy about the night ahead of him - and he decides it’s better to fill his time than to sit around and let the anxiety eat him alive. He makes a plan of his day. 

He’ll shower at 6:30, giving him enough time to get ready, and pray that his hair sits how he likes it. He thinks he’ll choose an outfit now to save the stress of rummaging through his wardrobe later on when he’s strapped for time. He’s thankful to himself for this decision, as he spends the next hour pulling out various articles of clothing, realising he hates everything he owns. Its all too-worn, or too-librarian, or too not-cool-enough-to-go-on-a-date-with-Sirius-Black, so he throws caution to the wind and calls in the big guns. 

“Hello, Moonshine,” Marlene answers the phone, chipper as ever. 

“I need help,” Remus sighs, throwing a hideous pair of burgundy chinos that must have time-travelled from 2010 into a pile of ‘clothes to burn’. He hears Dorcas in the background asking Marlene who’s on the phone. 

“It’s Moons-" She laughs. The call is quickly cut off and replaced by a FaceTime request. He rolls his eyes and accepts, scowling at the two girls who are beaming back at him. 

“Hi, Darling!” Dorcas grins. 

“Guys! This is serious business! I need help!” 

“Oh, god. Go on. Indulge us,” Dorcas smirks, climbing on top of Marlene and resting her chin on the crown of her head. 

“Don’t freak out, alright?” They both nod. “I may be going on a date?”

They freak out. For approximately five minutes Remus is subjected to the excited squeals and screams of his two best friends as they celebrate. He has to turn his volume all the way down and wait until they’re done. Eventually, they are, and the time comes for them to attack him with questions. 

“Who is he?” 

“Is he fit?” 

“How did you meet?”

“Where are you going?” 

“Oh, make sure you’re safe! Meet in a public place, ring us if you need us, and wear a condom!”

“Guys!” Remus groans, throwing his head back exasperatedly. “His name is Sirius, he comes to the library, he’s super fit - way out of my league - we matched on tinder last night. Turns out he’s best friends with James Potter - they’re practically family. He’s invited me to a gathering they’re having at theirs tonight. And he explicitly asked me to be his date. I think he’s just doing it so he’s not the only single one there, but I’m really nervous and I have absolutely nothing to wear.” 

After another few moments of squealing, Marlene finally speaks; “Show us some options!”

“That’s the problem - I have no options,” He reaches for the burgundy chinos and holds them up to the camera. “Look at what I just found in my wardrobe - I’m a disaster,” 

“Oh, Re, those are foul.” Marlene laughs. “Never fear. We’re going shopping. Meet you in town in half an hour?” 

“Fine,” Remus huffs, he hates shopping, but he knows he needs to find something decent to wear. “But charity shops only - I don’t have money to burn, and I don’t wanna be out all day, you know I hate shopping,”

“Yes, yes, whatever you say - your highness. See you soon,” 

A torturous three hours pass, and Remus swears he will never step foot in a shop again. His feet hurt and his arms ache and he’s tried on about fifty articles of clothing that Marlene and Dorcas have thrown at him and then thoroughly critiqued. But, finally, he’s back home with a couple of bags from the charity shop and a brand new outfit (well, new to him) for this evening. It’s nothing too fancy, a new pair of jeans, which he thought were too big on him but Marlene had insisted looked good (they were comfy, so he didn’t really mind), and a handful of t-shirts - he’d spent a grand total of £13.50. (Not counting the 2 for £8 he’d spent at Tesco on wine on his way back).

The hours left until Sirius is supposed to pick him up are long, and he wonders how it’s possible his body can be so nervous for so long. But, somehow he makes it to 6:30, and he feels it is acceptable to start getting ready. Connecting his phone to his bluetooth speaker, he picks a playlist he knows will put him in a good mood - and steps in the clunky shower. He tries to make it last, to savour the feeling of hot water on his skin, he shaves, and even conditions his hair (a routine he saves only for special occasions) but eventually, he ends up with cramp from contorting his too-long body to fit in the shower and decides it’s time to get out. He towels off his hair in the mirror and tries not to think about his date with Sirius, absentmindedly humming along to Killer Queen. Suddenly, he feels time is moving far too quickly and there isn’t even an hour before Sirius will be at his door step and the entire situation comes crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. What was he thinking? Agreeing to see Sirius-The-Adonis-Black outside of the library. He is sure he’s going to embarrass himself, by spilling something, or tripping over, or saying something so ridiculous that Sirius will smile politely (because that’s lovely Sirius) and then never look in his direction ever again. He can hardly even comprehend why Sirius has asked him of all people in the first place, when he could get anyone he wanted - like a super-model, or an olympic-swimmer, or a famous-footballer. Why on earth, Remus thinks, would he go for the lanky, awkward librarian?

His existential crisis has cost him at least twenty minutes, and he has no more time to think as he throws on his new jeans, belts them up, and tucks a white t-shirt into them, pulling a knitted jumper over his head for warmth. He tousles his hair and hopes for the best (though there’s no use, the Lupin hair has forever been, and always will be, untameable), sprays his body with his most expensive perfume, pocketing his phone, wallet and keys - before realising he can hardly see. 

“Contacts,” He grunts, turning back to his dresser. “Bugger,” He comes up empty, realising he ran out yesterday. He dials Marlene. 

“Can’t get enough of us today, can you Moony,” She greets, “Ooh, you look good! Lose the jumper though, Lupin, c’mon, it’s a party,” 

“One, it’s not a party. Two, it’s cold outside, and, three, believe me, I was glad to get shot of you after three hours of you dragging me to every shop in town but this is a state of emergency,” 

“Go on drama queen,” 

“I’ve run out of contacts,” 

“Wow that really is an emergency, I’ll call the BBC and tell them they need to make an announcement to the nation-“ 

“Not funny Marls. Do I risk not being able to see properly all night and increase my chances of embarrassing myself doing something clumsy? Or do I wear my glasses? But then I’ll be wearing glasses, Marlene, my round frame, slightly bent, old-as-fuck spectacles, on a date with the fittest man alive?”

“Remus, my love - you embarrassing yourself doing something clumsy is inevitable with or without your vision,” 

“Filling me with confidence, Marlene,” 

“Oh, you know I love your glasses. They really aren’t bad. I bet he’ll think they’re cute.” 

Remus sighs, “I’ll look like a librarian,” 

“Remus. You are a librarian-“ He goes to interrupt but she continues, “-you are a librarian - and it is the librarian he has met, and the librarian he has asked out on a date, so play that to your advantage. Clearly he likes the studious, nerdy type,” 

“Thanks,” Remus rolls his eyes. 

“Good luck, wear the glasses! And let me know how it goes!” 

He hangs up. 

Glasses it is. 

Sirius is right on time. He knocks on Remus’s door at 8 o clock sharp, before Remus has even finished giving himself a pep talk. He’s sure he looks as flustered as he feels as he swings open the door and is greeted by that earth-shattering, lopsided grin of Sirius’s as he leans against the doorframe, leather jacket hung off of his back, hair cascading to his shoulders in those beautiful, dark waves, a few locks tucked behind his ear, his earring dangling in all its glory. 

“Hey,” Remus hums, breathlessly - because, he’s always breathless when Sirius is around. 

“Hi,” Sirius grins in response, and a beat of silence passes between them as they stare at each other. Remus’s amber eyes, like honey and the glimmer of the first morning sun rays in autumn, golden and striking, wide, meeting Sirius’s grey ones which encompass the whole night sky from the darkest, most remote part of the world, crinkling slightly as they smile fondly at the other man. 

“Come in,” Remus breathes, finally breaking the silence between them, pulling them out of the trance they’d fallen into. “I’ll just grab a coat and I’ve a few bottles of wine to bring,” 

Sirius nods, stepping into the cottage, his eyes wandering around the quaint little space. He thinks it very endearing and cozy, filled to the brim with books and candles, and little trinkets littering the sides as ornaments. There’s no cohesion to it, it’s all mismatched and busy and lovely. He feels a warmth spread through him that’s not just as a result of stepping inside from the cold. It is so very Remus. He loves it. 

What makes it approximately one hundred times better though, is the curious cat that plods over to him, sniffing at him warily - trying to figure him out. Sirius is decidedly good enough for the (bordering enormous) flat-faced, brown cat, as it weaves its way between his legs, purring softly. He bends over and, with slight difficulty, picks the cat up. It gets comfy on Sirius’s chest as he scratches the creature’s head. 

“Okay,” Remus smiles, reentering the living room with bottles in hand and a thick coat hung off his back, “Ready?” His heart skips a beat at the sight of Sirius and Paul. 

“Who is this lovely, gracious, ginormous being?” Sirius laughs, as Paul’s tongue - too large for her mouth, pokes out slightly. 

“This is Paul.” 

“You called him Paul-?” 

“Her!” Remus corrects.

“Oh, Remus that makes it even worse. What did the poor cat do to you?” 

Remus explains the story of how he acquired Paul, and how her name came to be, and Sirius laughs so loudly he startles Paul, who quickly jumps out of his arms, unimpressed with the disruption, and settles on the sofa. 

“She needs to go on a diet,” Remus huffs, stroking the cat’s ears affectionately. “But she’s fourteen - I figure why can she not just enjoy the latter years of her life, you know?” Once again, Sirius laughs heartily at this. “But I really should get her weight down, I plan to have her around as long as physically possible,” 

“Oh, I love your cat. And, I absolutely love your house,” Sirius breathes, his laughter dying down, as Remus watches with a soft sort of wonder. Sirius eyes the dark wooden beams across the old ceilings, basking in the low golden light of the little lamps that are placed in the corners of the room. “It’s beautiful,” 

“It’s a hovel,” Remus laughs, “But it’s my hovel. If we’ve got time, you can come and meet Daisy if you like?” 

“Daisy?” Sirius questions, raising a suspicious brow. 

“Come on,” Remus takes Sirius’s wrist lightly, pulling him towards the door, trying to ignore the way his skin singes against Sirius’s and the way it feels just so natural to touch him. He almost curses himself for the bold move, halfway between a fumble and an instinct, but he can’t bring himself to regret it when it feels so right, so he embraces the blush that flares up his neck as his fingers tug delicately on Sirius’s wrist to guide him towards the back garden.

They trudge down to the end of the garden and are greeted by the cows that recognise Remus as the one who feeds them. 

“Which one’s Daisy?” Sirius grins, enamoured by the friendly creatures, leaning over to scratch one on the head. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Whichever one comes to me first,” Remus shrugs, and Sirius laughs even though the joke wasn’t funny, and it makes Remus’s heart soar. 

“God. I really, really love your house. Imagine waking up to Daisy and Paul in a morning. What a dream.” 

I can think of something I’d rather wake up to, Remus thinks. Or he thinks, he thinks. Sirius lets out another bark of laughter. 

“Yeah, I can think of something better too,” He smiles, eyes glistening with mischief and flirtation, lip caught between his teeth as he revels in the sight of Remus shifting to a violent crimson shade, and covering his face with his hands. 

“I can’t believe I said that out loud,” Remus groans. “Mortified,” 

“Don’t be,” Sirius grins, nudging him, “Least I know we’re on the same page.” 

The wink Sirius sends him almost knocks him flat, and as they trudge back towards the house Remus realises - he is well and truly fucked. 

Sirius leads him out front to where he’s parked his car. Remus does not claim to know much about cars, but he knows a sexy car when he sees one - and Sirius’s car is certainly that. It’s all black and sleek and expensive looking, but with enough character that it doesn’t look too flashy - sort of like Sirius in a way. 

“Thought you could crash at Lily’s tonight? Or I can order you an Uber if you want to get home?” Sirius explains, pulling out his keys and unlocking the car with a press of a button. Remus tries not to feel too envious as he glances over at the little old Beetle that he still has to insert the key into and twist to unlock - she’s reliable and that’s all that matters to him. 

“Oh, I’m sure the walk’s not far - or there’ll be a bus or something. I’ll find my way, don’t worry,” Remus smiles as Sirius opens the door for him and motions for him to jump in. 

“Maybe if you’re lucky, you can wake up to something better than Daisy,” He smirks, leaving Remus flustered and blushing as he jogs around the car and clambers into the driver’s side. 

“I actually have to be here in the morning to feed the cows - if I’m not there by 8:30 they’ll think the world has ended or something,” 

“Are they yours?” Sirius’s attention is on the road, his hands are big in size but beautifully crafted, embellished with ink and defined with the lines of his veins and bones, decorated with a couple of silver rings that make the breath in Remus’s throat hitch. Sirius driving, Remus decides, is his new favourite thing to look at. He cannot for the life of him understand why it’s so attractive, but he adores the fact can stare unapologetically at Sirius’s side profile, admiring the aristocracy of the sharp line on his jaw, the curve of his cheekbone, and the strength of his nose, eyelashes fluttering against the delicate skin of his cheek whenever he blinks, grey eyes concentrating, lips moving in the most inviting way. 

“No, they’re not mine,” Remus laughs fondly. “I just feed them in the morning for the farmer. Have done for years. If I don’t do it, it won’t get done.” 

“We’ll just have to get you home then, won’t we?” Sirius grins, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look across at Remus. “Can’t have Daisy going hungry.” 

The drive to Lily and James’s takes around fifteen minutes, and the car is filled with small talk and shared laughs and stolen glances. Remus feels warm and fuzzy and he hasn’t even had a glass of wine yet. He finds being around Sirius isn’t as overwhelming as he thought it would be - he’s comfortable and at ease in his company and it all just feels so right. Somehow, just fifteen minutes in the car has managed to resolve all of Remus’s anxieties about the night. He still looks across at Sirius and is dumbfounded that he’s asked him on a date, but, it certainly isn’t Sirius who has made Remus feel that way.

There are a few people at Lily and James’s when the two arrive. As Remus walks through the door he’s engulfed in a hug from Lily, and Sirius is dragged into the kitchen by James, so he’s left to fend for himself for a few minutes. 

“This is the best thing ever,” Lily sighs dreamily, squeezing Remus’s shoulder and taking the bottles of wine from him. “God, you and Sirius - it’s bloody perfect,” 

“Calm down,” Remus groans, but it’s all in jest and he can’t help the feeling of warmth from blooming in his chest and the ridiculous little grin that plays on his lips. 

She ushers him over to meet the rest of the party. “These are Gideon and Fabian, they’re twins - don’t try and tell them apart because they will just mess with you. You’ll figure out which is which eventually,” She motions to two identical redheads who grin cheekily at him, “Frank and Alice Longbottom,” She waves towards a couple whose limbs are intertwined on the sofa. Alice tilts her glass towards him before jumping back into a discussion she was having with the man sat beside them. They seemed to be having a debate along the lines of climate change being a feminist issue - Remus doesn’t quite catch it before he’s being introduced to the man on the receiving end of Alice’s rant, “That’s Benjy,” He grimaces towards Remus in a ‘help me’ sort of way as Alice continues to chastise him for some tone-deaf thing he said - heartily backed up by her husband. “And Mary’s upstairs - she’s taking a phone call - you’ll know her when you see her,” Remus tries not too feel too smug at the fact that all things considered, if he wasn’t there, Sirius would not be the only one without a date - the majority are here alone, despite Sirius’ propositions on Tinder. 

“Bloody Mum keeps bloody ringing me because she can’t work out how to catch up on Corrie on the telly-“ A voice grumbles as it approaches. “Oh, hello,” She interrupts herself, switching to a bright and friendly smile, pulling Remus in for a hug, “You’re Remus, yes?” 

“And you’re Mary,” He grins back.

“At your service,” She gives him a little bow. “So you’re the one that’s got Sirius all hot under the collar-“ 

She’s cut off by Sirius entering the room. “-Mary! Hello.” He grabs Remus by the shoulder and begins to steer him away from her, shooting a warning look her way causing a laugh to tumble from her lips. “Let’s get you a drink, shall we?” Sirius murmurs in Remus’s ear. 

In the kitchen, he uncorks a wine and pours them each a glass. “You met everyone okay, then?” 

“Yeah, not had much of a chance to chat with them, but they all seem lovely.” Remus nods, taking a sip of the wine, fluttering his eyes closed as he savours the sweet taste on his tongue. 

“They’re a good bunch,” Sirius shrugs, and Remus can sense the pride in his expression. 

“Alice seems like a firecracker, poor Benjy was drowning back there,” 

“That’s Alice,” Sirius chuckles fondly, “Thing is though, Benjy can sometimes say some ridiculously oblivious things - privilege, you know? He says something not quite right and Alice educates him - you’ll find she’s generally always right,” 

“Well good. The world needs more Alices,” Remus grins, catching Sirius’s eye. He’s wearing a grin that mirrors Remus’s, though Remus is sure Sirius looks ten times less goofy. They’re all dazed and starstruck and giddy as their eyes linger on one another for a few moments too long, laughing breathily, having a conversation with mere glances and subtle movements and the air between them. 

With his heart thundering and his stomach churning with anticipation, Remus finally breaks the silence. “Top me up before I go back in” 

Sirius laughs and (over)pours both of their glasses of wine. 

Somehow hours pass in the blink of an eye. Too many bottles of wine to count have been sunk, they’re all full on Mexican food, and bleary eyed and intoxicated. The lights are dim and the music low as they all sit around and talk and laugh, and it’s so much fun. Remus feels warm - not just because of the flush from the alcohol - it’s more than that. Whenever he or Sirius are engaged in a conversation with someone else, they steal glances at one another and smile sheepishly whenever their eyes meet, and it’s so endearing and lovely Remus thinks he might burst.

“Going for a smoke,” Sirius announces, speech slurred and eyes glassy. He stands and stretches and Remus has to swallow as his shirt rides up and exposes a sliver of skin on his (very toned, and tan) abdomen. “Coming?” He smiles lazily at Remus, eyes slanted and soft and inviting. Remus is on his feet before his brain even processes the question. 

They step out onto the patio of Lily and James’s garden, closing the French doors behind them to keep the cold out. The sun has completely set, a half moon in its place, a blanket of stars covering the earth, prominent without the pollution of light. Remus cannot help but sigh contentedly as he turns to face Sirius, a cigarette dangling from his lip, hands cupping the flame that he lifts to spark it. It shouldn’t be attractive - but it is. It’s beautiful. His nimble fingers, covered in ink, dancing around the stick, holding it with such a professionalism that smoking shouldn’t have, the way it sits so deftly and comfortably on his lips - and, oh god his lips, plump and slightly chapped and wrapped around the filter in the most alluring way - it’s driving Remus crazy. Best (or worst) of all (Remus hasn’t quite yet decided), is the way he savours the smoke, the way he crinkles his face as he inhales, the way he swirls it around his mouth, tilting his head back, enjoying every second of the grey tainting his lungs, like it’s the most pleasurable thing in the world, and then he breathes it out, a cancerous waterfall dripping from his lips and it’s like he’s reborn. Remus shouldn’t love it. But he absolutely fucking does. He’s speechless.

“There I am,” Sirius hums, pointing his cigarette toward the sky. 

“Hm?” Remus tries to follow Sirius’ point. 

“My star,” 

“There’s millions of stars up there, I won’t be able to make it out,” 

“I’ll show you properly, one day,” Sirius promises - and Remus knows it’s a promise by the way Sirius looks at him so earnestly. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

Remus is once again struck by feelings of inadequacy as he studies Sirius intently. Of course he’s named after the brightest star in the sky - he can’t imagine anyone who would fit the title better. 

“You must have been running out of options if you decided I was your best bet?” Remus chuckles, folding his arms and leaning against the balustrade. Sirius cocks his head to the side, eyeing Remus confusedly. “Come on, Sirius. You could definitely have a supermodel, or a footballer or some sort of Demi-God here as your date instead of a librarian. What? Were they all busy?” Remus had meant it to be funny, but Sirius doesn’t laugh, instead he fixes Remus with a stern look, sincerity laced in his eyes as he shakes his head. 

“If it weren’t you, it’d be no one,” He shrugs, demeanour casual but words firm. “There was no one else. I wanted you here. I’m glad we matched on tinder - I got too scared to ask you on Friday at the library and then you knew Lily and it was the perfect excuse.” 

“You were scared to ask me out?” Remus breathes, dizzy with surprise and excitement. Sirius nods curtly and silently, and Remus nearly topples over. “What- Why? Have you seen you?”

“Have you seen you, Remus!?” Sirius quickly retorts. 

“Yes. I have. That’s the problem-“ 

“Fucking hell Remus, you’ve really no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?” 

Remus looks and him dumbfounded, and Sirius, shaking his head, retreats back into the room and addresses everyone there; “Right you lot, of me and Remus, who is better looking?” 

The room is filled with mutterings of “Remus” and his cheeks burn a dark shade of red and he laughs awkwardly. 

“They’re just saying that,” He mumbles, kicking his feet and averting his eyes to the floor.

“No,” Sirius huffs, lifting his finger to rest under Remus’s chin, forcing him to lift his gaze and meet Sirius’s, which is ablaze with a playful softness but a raw and unyielding sense of truth, a hard and unquestioning stare, which makes Remus’s knees almost buckle beneath him, his heart racing under the intensity of Sirius’s eyes boring into his, and the naked skin of his finger against the naked skin of his chin. “No, Remus. They’re not.” 

“But you’re gorgeous!” Remus waves his arms theatrically, and Sirius can’t help the smug, lazy grin that takes over his features hearing Remus declare such a thing. 

“Yes. And I know that, so don’t worry, they haven’t hurt my feelings. You just happen to be more gorgeous,” Sirius winks.  

“That’s impossible,” Remus gapes. 

“Nothing’s impossible sweetheart.” Remus’s stomach practically digests his heart at Sirius’s words, and he thinks if he blushes any harder he may pass out from the blood being nowhere but his cheeks. 

“Okay, this conversation is knocking me a little bit sick. Can we talk about something else?” Remus jokes, averting his eyes from Sirius’s intense stare. 

“Sure,” Sirius hums, a playful smile lighting up his face. “How about, my sweet Remus, we talk about how your smile is as beautiful and radiant as the first rays of the morning sun-“ 

“Oh, piss off,” Remus laughs, shoving Sirius’s shoulder. Sirius grabs Remus’s hand and kisses his knuckles. 

“Or how looking into your eyes is like bathing naked in a pot of honey-“ 

“You should be a poet-“ 

“- Or how your lips would look delightful wrapped around-“ 

“I’m going to get another drink now,” Remus laughs, feeling coy as he covers his face and heads back towards the kitchen, Sirius roaring with laughter, following behind him.

The two settle themselves back into the group, sinking another bottle of wine, laughing and talking and further losing their inhibitions. At this point, Remus feels lightheaded from the booze, and Sirius is giggly and affectionate. The first chords of Meatloaf’s ‘Paradise By The Dashboard Light’ begin playing over the stereo, and Sirius’s eyes light up like Remus has never seen before. He locks gazes with Remus, and bounds over.

“I love this song-" He giggles. 

“Me too,” Remus smiles fondly up at him. Sirius takes Remus’s hands eagerly, attempting to pull him to his feet. 

“Dance with me!” He pouts, but Remus shakes his head. 

“I don’t dance,” Remus shouts back, the music has been turned up, clearly the rest of the group like this song too, as they sing loudly. 

“Please!” Sirius pouts, and Remus is almost tempted. 

“Have you seen the length of my limbs? I can hardly walk, never mind dance,” 

“Fine,” Sirius huffs, but Remus knows Sirius hasn’t given up yet as he encourages him to finish his glass. Sirius dances alone for a while, trying to entice Remus to stand, playing a pretend keyboard and throwing his beautiful curly hair around like it was made for this song, and Remus is entranced watching him, so carefree and so beautiful and ridiculous. Throughout the first half of the song, Sirius sends Remus pleading looks and utters a few ‘please’s and ‘come on’s, and somehow Remus finds the strength to deny Sirius what he wants. But, by the third part of the song, the infamous part, his favourite part, everyone is up and dancing, and the glass of wine he’s just finished has settled nicely and he just can’t say no to Sirius anymore, so, much to Sirius’s delight, Remus stands when he offers him his hand, smiling unapologetically. 

“Do you love me? Will you love me forever? Do you need me? Will you never leave me?”  They all belt at the top of their lungs, tripping over one another. 

“Let me sleep on it. Baby, baby, let me sleep on it” Remus and Sirius lock eyes, slightly sweaty, eyes erratic and wild, bodies buzzing with alcohol and music, smiles so wide their cheeks hurt, laughing heartily. Sirius nods towards the backdoor and begins walking in that direction, Remus quickly following. He’s relieved to feel the cold of the night against his sticky skin, and he breathes in the fresh air, smiling up to the sky. 

“What a song,” Remus chuckles, but he’s cut off as Sirius strides towards him and plants his lips against his. Remus is taken by such surprise he almost doesn’t react, but he feels one of Sirius’s hands snake into his hair, and the other pressing into his hip and it ignites something in him and suddenly he’s kissing Sirius and the world is hazy and they’re just an entanglement of limbs and heavy breaths. He’s kissing him and he feels the pit of his chest open like he never has before, he’s only ever kissed as a means to an end, but this, this is his own little paradise, and he could kiss Sirius forever. The salty taste of sweat from dancing and the heavy taste of booze on their tongues, the way Remus has to bend down slightly, and the way their teeth knock together every so often as they can’t help but smile, the way Sirius’s hair feels as Remus runs his hands through it, and uses it as a way to bring him somehow impossibly closer, the way their bodies mould together so perfectly - it’s alluring and beautiful and nothing like Remus has ever experienced before.

While their lips are pressed together the world is void of time - alas, time passes, and eventually they pull away, slightly breathless, red cheeked and smiling wildly.

The night from there is a haze of more booze, more songs, and more stolen kisses. The two stay by each other for the rest of the night, skin pressed against skin in some form at all times, and though the night is a blur, Remus can of course remember the way his skin burns against Sirius’s, the force like magnetism that pulls them together, as well as the winks Lily sends his way whenever she catches his eye. 

Though he’s no idea how, Remus has made his way back home (a taxi, presumably), and he awakes, begrudgingly, to his alarm - alerting him that it is time to feed the cows. He feels a great wave of nausea as he pries open his eyes, and the light penetrates right into his skull as the world spins around him. The clothes he wore last night are still on, including his shoes - luckily he’d fallen asleep on top of his quilt, with his shoe-clad feet hanging off the side of the bed. Groaning, he slowly sits up, afraid if he moves too fast he’ll throw up on his rug, or his head will explode. Somehow he makes it to the bathroom alive, splashing his face with cold water and swallowing the painkillers he finds in the cupboard dry. 

“What happened?” A groggy voice calls from behind him, causing Remus to jump so hard he smacks his head on the light that hangs from the ceiling. 

“What the fuck-" Remus squeaks, turning around and brandishing his toothbrush as a weapon. He doesn’t know if he’s delighted or horrified to see Sirius, bleary eyed, fully clothed and peering at him from over the rim of the bathtub - where he has quite clearly spent the night sleeping. “Sirius, what the fuck are you doing in my bath?” 

Sirius looks at Remus in a daze, rubbing his eyes and taking in his surroundings, before laying his head back down on the porcelain. “I have no idea, but I don’t think I can move. I have never been so hungover.” 

Shaking his head, Remus is far too rough to think, so he leaves Sirius in the bathtub, and heads back to his room. 

“Where are you going?” Sirius calls after him. 

“Got to feed the cows,” Remus responds, tripping as he kicks off his jeans and slips his legs into a pair of joggers. “I’ll have tea brewing when you can face getting out of the tub,”

The cool air of the morning whips against the flushed skin of Remus’s cheeks, and though it doesn’t work a miracle - he finds that he feels fractionally better. 

“God help me,” He mutters, as he trudges towards the shed at the bottom of his garden. 

As he feeds the cows memories of the night before flash through his mind, and though it is a blur he can still perfectly remember the heat of Sirius’s lips against his own (he's sure that's something he'll never forget) and the way they danced together, and the way their skin pressed together whenever they were given the chance. His stomach flips at the thought and suddenly there’s a little spring in his step and he feels, admittedly, rather smug. 

He smiles coyly to himself as he brews a pot of tea, piling up a plate high with too much toast, and setting the table for two for the first time in forever. He hums happily as he lays the table with butter and marmalade and jam and honey, setting down two cups for the tea and finding his mother's old posh china set, retrieving the jug for milk and a little bowl for sugar.

“Morning,” Sirius groans, rubbing his eyes and stretching upwards, revealing the skin of his lower abdomen. 

“Morning,” Remus breathes. And suddenly their eyes meet and they’re grinning at one another, Remus pulling at his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger - they’re having an entire conversation with a mere look. 

“This is nice,” Sirius motions towards the breakfast table, staring hard at Remus still, with a cheeky glint in his eye - saying something beyond the words he’s just spoken. 

“It’s nothing,” Remus shrugs, “Sit,”

Sirius does sit, and the two eat in a coy sort of silence, the air between them charged with something magical. Whenever their eyes meet they can’t help but chuckle, and Remus thinks his blood is about to simmer with how hot he’s getting - he dreads to think what the state of his cheeks are like. They finish eating, and Remus stands, turning to fill the sink with soapy water. While Sirius isn’t looking at him, he feels courage well inside him and he finally feels like he can talk. 

“Well, last night was-" Remus pauses for thought, searching for the right word, as Sirius gathers the plates and sets them by the sink. “Good.” Remus cringes - of all the words in the English dictionary, that’s what he’s come up with. Good. 

All thoughts seep out of Remus’s mind, however, as Sirius presses his hand against Remus’s lower back as he moves behind him, his fingers brushing the bare skin that pokes out underneath the t shirt Remus threw on this morning. He struggles to keep himself standing. 

“You could say that,” Sirius smirks, standing beside him and drying the plates that Remus washes. It feels very domestic and Remus doesn’t know how he can handle it in his current fragile state. 

“Thank you for inviting me,” Remus smiles. 

“Thank you for coming, and letting me sleep in your… bathtub?” Sirius laughs. 

“Yeah - how did that even -? I mean - I literally have a perfectly comfortable bed, spare room and sofa,”

“You’re asking me,” They laugh together, Sirius flicking the tea towel at Remus, Remus responding by blowing the bubbles from the sink at him. “Oi,” Sirius laughs, leaning over and grabbing a handful of his own bubbles, reaching up to wipe them on Remus’s face. Remus is quick, grabbing Sirius’s wrists before he can do any damage, throwing his head back with laughter as Sirius pouts petulantly.

When he looks back down at Sirius, the pout has gone, replaced with a smile that has taken over his every feature, eyes soft and wrinkled as he watches Remus with the fondness of someone who is looking at some natural wonder like the northern lights - Sirius thinks that likeness isn’t too far off the mark. A soft smile, almost identical to Sirius’s own lights up Remus’s face as they look at each other imploringly for a moment, before Sirius is leaning in, wrists still locked in Remus’s (frankly amorously beautiful) big hands, standing on his tip toes to press his lips against the other man’s.

Remus responds instantly, leaning his head down to meet Sirius, freeing Sirius’s hands so he can slide his fingers through Sirius’s hair - somehow still perfectly luscious after his night in the tub. He draws him in closer, fingers playing with the hairs that sit on the nape of Sirius’s neck, pressing him against the kitchen counter, before using his hips to hoist him up. With Sirius sat on the kitchen side he and Remus are the same height - and, bubbles forgotten, Sirius grabs the back of Remus's head, desperately kissing at Remus’s mouth, thighs either side of his hips, locking his feet behind him, pulling him close. A jolt of arousal shoots through the two of them as their hips rock together, and Remus can’t help the guttural moan that emits from the back of his throat as Sirius grinds against him, and Sirius smiles then, clearly very smug with the way he can get Remus to react. Panting heavily, dazed and lost in a cloud of arousal, their foreheads press together, smiling wide, exchanging lazy, toothy kisses, laughing softly. 

“Come on,” Remus whispers, stepping away from Sirius, taking his hand and nodding towards the kitchen door. 

“Where are we going?” Sirius whines, unhappy with the loss of contact. 

“Well I’m not going to fuck you in the kitchen, that wouldn’t be very sanitary would it?” Remus laughs as he walks towards the exit, pausing to lean against the doorframe, basking in the shocked expression and pink cheeks he’s somehow managed to bestow upon the Sirius Black. “Coming?” Remus doesn’t have to ask twice, as Sirius is scrambling to keep up with him, following him quickly up the stairs to his bedroom. 

A couple of hours later Remus stirs. After having mind-blowing sex (twice) the two must have fallen asleep in a post-coitus haze. They are an entanglement of naked limbs, chests pressed together, breathing slow and in sync. Remus feels lovely and warm and sated, and he takes the quiet moment to marvel at Sirius’s sleeping form. His sharp, aristocratic features are softer like this, lashes brushing against the pale skin of his cheek, lips parted slightly as he snores softly, Remus smiles fondly down at him, regardless of the fact Sirius can’t see it - and wonders how the bloody hell he got so lucky as to pull someone as inexplicably beautiful as Sirius Black. Remus presses his lips against Sirius’s forehead, which is slightly damp with perspiration, a few loose hairs stuck to it. Sirius wakes then, smiling before he’s even fluttered open his eyes. 

“Sorry,” Remus whispers, brushing the length of Sirius’s hair behind his ear, “Didn’t mean to wake you,” 

Sirius stretches slightly, before nuzzling his nose into Remus’ neck. “'S'okay, I don’t mind. Just 'cause it’s you, moony,” 

Remus’s heart leaps at the use of his nickname, and he worries Sirius will feel his pulse quicken underneath him. Sirius presses kisses against Remus’s neck, his hands trailing the naked skin of his back, before reaching the scar tissue that spans the length of Remus's right shoulder blade, where he hesitates as Remus’s breath audibly hitches. Sirius pulls back, searching Remus’s eyes cautiously. Remus nods, turning away from Sirius to reveal the array of scars across his back. Though Remus is covered in visible scars, the crescent moon shaped silver on his back is the worst, and while he tries to own it, donning the Moony nickname, it is still a sore spot for him - particularly when it comes to showing handsome suitors. Usually his one night stands are quick and desperate, with tops on or the lights off - and he doesn't hang around long enough for anyone to explore his body like this.  

Sirius’s fingers gently trace the mottled skin across Remus’s back. 

[TW DESCRIPTIONS OF INJURIES/CAR ACCIDENTS - RELATIVELY GRAPHIC]

“It really was an accident when I was a kid,” Remus breathes, once again feeling braver without Sirius’s stunning silver eyes staring right into his soul. He melts into the feeling of Sirius peppering the skin of his shoulder blades, and everything in between, with kisses. “I was ten, and I was walking back from school, and, I mean, you've driven the roads yourself, they’re all back country lanes, proper bendy and gravelly. Anyway, there was this long stretch of winding road with no footpath, just a small grass bank inundated with brambles and thorns so you couldn't walk on it - stupid, really. Well most people knew to go steady on them roads, but of course, you always had the idiots thinking they’re invincible, speeding through them 'cause there’s no cameras. So, on this particular day, I was walking home, as I did every day, I could hear the car coming, and I knew it was going too fast, I could hear sirens, as well - I tried my best to scramble up the banking but it was raining and I couldn’t get my footing, and I remember thinking just God, please don’t hit me. But I think I knew - I knew he was going to hit me. He came round the bend so fast, and his tires were screeching and I- I couldn’t even really see it, I just heard this huge bang as he went full speed into me. I don’t really remember from there but, yeah, I was pretty fucked up. He hit me doing about 50? I think? My body was thrown in the air, landed on my back and skidded - my shoulder was torn open, that’s why it’s so scarred. Obviously the rest of me was pretty cut up, I had sliced up basically my entire body, but my back was the worst, I had to have a full shoulder replacement, 'cause my bones were basically dust - still have limited mobility to this day, and it starts to hurt when it gets cold out. I broke four ribs, I was concussed, and I lost a fuck ton of blood. He didn’t stop - just left me there to die. Luckily the police weren’t far behind and they saw it happen - otherwise I don’t think they’d have noticed me, I ended up in the brambles, which cut me up even further, hence the facial scars, and the scars all over my arms and legs. I was so lucky though, the speed he was going at - it should have been a lot worse, everyone was surprised I was alive, never mind relatively okay. To escape with all my limbs and no severe brain damage - it was a miracle really, so a few scars and a metal shoulder is nothing.” 

“Fuck, Remus,” Sirius gasps, gently touching Remus’s shoulder, motioning for him to turn around. Remus complies, laying on his back, shooting a sad smile Sirius’ way before looking back up at the ceiling. Sirius wraps himself around Remus’s arm, laying his head on his shoulder, nuzzling his nose in Remus’s neck, again, peppering him with kisses. 

“The worst part is that my mum blamed herself,” Remus confesses, already in too deep to stop, “The school was only a ten minute walk, and that year she’d just started letting me do it alone, you know, preparing for “big school”,” Remus chuckles, air signs around the latter part of the sentence, “but, yeah, she took it hard - she thought if she’d been there then maybe it wouldn’t have happened, maybe she could’ve got me onto the banking, or he’d hit her instead,” 

“Oh, Remus. That’s fucking awful, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. Did they catch the guy that did it?” 

“Yeah. Fenrir Greyback - that was his name. He’d stolen the car and was wanted for various things - sexual assault of a minor being the worst of it.” 

“That disgusting bastard” 

“Yep. They ended up doing him for GBH, sexual assault of a minor, theft and all sorts - he got ten years.” 

“Ten?!” Sirius half shouts, “That’s bloody nothing,” 

Remus merely shrugs, “That’s our justice system. He's served his sentence, and he's out now. Last I heard he's living in Slough, so he's far enough away.” 

“That's fucked,” Sirius huffs. “Thank you for telling me that,” 

Remus turns and smiles at Sirius fondly, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips before untangling their limbs and peeling himself from the bed. 

“Where you going?” Sirius pouts, watching Remus stumble into his boxers that were haphazardly discarded on their way to bed. 

“Bursting for a piss,” Remus laughs, “Fancy a cuppa?” 

“Please, two sugars - milky!” Sirius shouts after Remus as he walks away, the latter trying not to grimace at the blasphemy of a milky brew - it is, Remus thinks, essentially treason. 

A few minutes later, as he’s ascending the stairs, balancing two full cups of hot tea in his hands, Remus hears the faint hum of Sirius speaking, and, as he gets closer, he hears the tinny reply of a woman - presumably on the phone. He manages to kick open the door without spilling anything, looking at Sirius quizzically as Sirius smiles back at him, gratefully taking the milky tea from Remus’s hands. 

“Speak of the devil,” Sirius grins, turning the phone to face him. 

“Alright, Moons?” Marlene winks from FaceTime. Remus rolls his eyes, sighing as he flops down beside Sirius, who is still gloriously and entirely naked. 

"Your phone was ringing, so I took the liberty of answering it," Sirius laughs.

“I see you’ve met Sirius, then,” Remus directs his question to Marlene. 

“I have indeed - gorgeous, isn’t he? Well done moonbeam. Lovely hair, and tats,” 

Though Remus thought it impossible, Sirius’s grin grows wider somehow, “I like her,” He grins at Remus. 

“Where’s Dorcs?” Remus asks, prying the phone off of Sirius.

“Gym. She’ll be gutted she missed this,” 

“Get her to call back later,” Sirius butts in, pressing his head against the side of Remus’s face, leaving Remus with a mouthful of hair. 

“Or don’t,” Remus sings. “I’m hanging up now,” 

“Bye Sirius, I’ll definitely be seeing you soon-“ 

“Lovely to meet you, Marlene,” Remus hangs up before they can chatter anymore. “She was nice-" 

Remus is interrupted as his phone pings, indicating a message, predictably it is from Marlene. Sirius rests his head on Remus’s shoulder, peering over at the screen - and Remus doesn’t even bother trying to hide it as he unlocks his phone. 

FIT!!!! 

NAKED!!! 

FIT AND NAKED!!! 

IN YOUR BED!!!!!!!!!!! 

COME OVER LATER AND TELL US EVERYTHING !!

Sirius throws his head back laughing at Marlene’s texts. 

“She’s so embarrassing,” Remus huffs, chucking his phone to the other end of the bed. 

“It’s cute,” Sirius laughs - “James’ll be the same. Tell you what - why don’t you give me a lift back to theirs, and come in, and I’ll let Jimmy embarrass me - then we’re even.” 

“Deal.”

Though they don’t mean to, they end up having sex one more time before they squash themselves into Remus’s tiny shower together, and if it weren’t for the fact they were both utterly shagged out, (Remus is convinced it’s physiologically impossible to get another boner), he's sure they'd do it again right there in his bathtub . Unwilling to put his jeans back on, Sirius borrows some of Remus’s clothes, and they’re far too big for him in such a way that makes Remus feel like his heart is too big for his chest. Eventually they are out the door, Remus sticking the key in the passenger door keyhole of his old VW. 

“This is very cute,” Sirius teases, as Remus holds open the door for him. 

“Just get in, Black,” Remus laughs, shutting the door behind him. 

“Alright shagger?” James hollers from the other room, as Remus and Sirius enter the Evans-Potter household. He’s clearly entirely unaware of Remus’s presence. He saunters in, marigold gloves up to his elbows, using his sweeping brush as a microphone, belting out possibly the worst rendition Remus has ever heard of Get Your Rocks Off.

“James!” Sirius whines, forcing James to open his eyes, motioning towards Remus. 

“Well hello there, Remus,” James winks, eyes flicking between the two. “Oh, you dirty stop outs, you. Lily! We have company-“ 

“Hi James,” Remus blushes, unable to say much else as Lily barrels down the stairs, baby in arms. 

“James Bloody Potter - Harry was just about to go to sleep and you bloody shout like a maniac-“ 

“Here, I’ll take him-“ Sirius offers, scooping the little bundle from Lily’s arms. Remus thinks he might faint at the sight. 

“Is this our company, you numpty? - we see him every day!” Lily chuckles. 

“Hi, Lils,” Remus greets, letting himself be known from the doorway. 

“Remus!” Lily grins, running over and throwing her arms over him. 

“I wouldn’t, you know exactly where he’s been,” James winks, nodding in Sirius’s direction. 

“Oh, shut up you. You're lucky I'm holding my darling Godson.” Sirius retorts. 

“Coming in?” Lily asks, but Remus shakes his head. 

“No, best be off, I’m meeting some friends - just wanted to show my face and say thanks for having me last night,” 

“Well, you’re very welcome - I’m sure we’ll be seeing you here very soon,” Lily nudges Remus playfully, and he rolls his eyes once more, the pink stain on his cheeks never letting up. 

“We’ll leave you to say bye, you little lovebirds,” James laughs, pulling off his marigolds and taking Harry from Sirius’s arms, leading Lily back into the kitchen. 

“I thought this was an exercise to embarrass you,” Remus laughs as Sirius steps forward, “Don’t think I’ve stopped blushing yet,” 

Sirius smiles that soft, fond smile down at Remus once more, as he has done the whole morning, “No, I don’t think you have. It’s bloody lovely,” 

Remus can’t help but smile back. “Library Monday?” 

“Course, I’ll see you then,”

With a departing kiss, Remus heads begrudgingly out the door, feeling all giddy and light, smiling like a schoolboy. 

Come Monday morning, Remus feels sick with nerves. He’s unsure of how he’s supposed to act when Sirius comes to the library. Will their dynamic change? Must they act differently now that they’ve had sex (three times)? Was it just sex to Sirius, or does he want more? Does Remus himself want more than just sex with Sirius?  Remus thinks that “just sex” with Sirius means Sirius having “just sex” with other people, and thus the mere notion of “just sex with Sirius” brings forth this overwhelming sense of dread and Remus, quite frankly, really doesn’t want to think about that, and its implications (the fact he has vehemently sworn to all that’s sacred and holy that he absolutely and fundamentally Does. Not. Do. Relationships plays a significant role in this reluctance). His fretting continues. Will Sirius kiss him? Will Sirius kiss him in front of Betty? Will that give Betty a heart attack? He knows she’ll be excited but he doesn’t want to overstimulate the poor old woman too much. He decides he’s getting ahead of himself, but that still doesn’t stop the anxiety. 

As Remus arrives to work he finds himself hoping that Sirius comes in as early as possible - just to quieten the whirring thoughts going round his head. As it happens, he does arrive a little earlier than usual. He strolls in, bringing the wind through his hair with him, donning his usual regal atmosphere juxtaposed with his rebellious attire - he wears a crooked smile across his features from the minute he clocks Remus, and, fuck, Remus feels as though the air is knocked right out of him. He easily carries three takeaway coffees in his beautiful fucking hands, looking, as ever like The Sex God. 

Remus knows for a fact his cheeks are aflame as Sirius hands him his usual morning coffee. 

“Morning,” Sirius grins, unabashedly raking his eyes over Remus’s tall frame - as it always is, the air between them is electric, saying something that their words don’t. 

“Morning dear, ooh, is that for me?” Betty comes barrelling over. Sirius’s gaze lingers on Remus’s, he doesn’t break eye contact as he passes Betty the cup of tea he’s brought for her. “You shouldn’t have,” 

He finally breaks his gaze then, shooting Betty a cheeky grin and reaching into his bag, pulling out some fresh croissants from the bakery down the road. “Brought treats too,” 

“What’s all this for?” Remus smiles back at him fondly, taking a long sip from his coffee. 

“Wanted to” Sirius shrugs, and they’re back to basically eye-fucking in the middle of Remus’s workplace, for Christ sake - and Remus knows he should look away, he can absolutely feel Betty’s stare burning a hole through his head as she nibbles away at a croissant - but he just can’t bring himself to, “I’ll be over in my usual spot, if anyone needs me,” Neither Remus nor Betty miss the wink Sirius throws his way, and Remus can feel the blood fighting between rushing to his cheeks and rushing to his dick. 

“I’ll be over,” Remus nods, as Sirius walks away. 

“Right,” Betty affirms, nudging Remus with her elbow and taking a smug swig from her tea. “What was all that about?” 

“Nothing-“ 

“Nope - nah-ah. No way. You tell me right now Remus Lupin, what on earth has gone on between you and that boy. Oh, I could feel the sexual tension from here. I felt like I was invading on something very private. You can’t deprive an old lady of this, Remus, I won’t have it. Nothing exciting happens in my life you know, nothing. Last week the most exciting thing that happened to me was that a neighbour’s court summons got delivered to my house by accident and I opened it - now, spill!”

“Alright, alright,” Remus throws his hands up, chuckling at the woman he’s worked alongside for so many years. “We might have gone on a date?” 

“Oooh! A date! Lovely! Bobby never takes me on dates anymore - where did you go?” 

“Well, you know the Potters’ across from here?” Betty nods, “they had a little sort of gathering-“ 

“- a soiree” 

“-right, a soiree. Anyway, he asked me there with him, then he came back to mine and spent the night” 

“Oh, you little rascal!” Betty laughs with glee, swatting Remus’s arm. 

“Betty!” Remus whines, throwing his head back in embarrassment. 

“Well, he’s a lovely boy. I approve very much. You’ll have to bring him over for tea.” 

“We’ve been on one date-"

“And you’re both absolutely besotted. I’m happy for you, Remus - you deserve someone nice.” As Betty smiles up at him, he feels an affection for her swell inside of his chest - she’s always been like a second mother to him since Hope passed away. 

“Thanks, Betty,” He throws his arm over the shorter woman, and gives her shoulders a squeeze. 

“Now, go on,” She shoos him towards where Sirius is sat, head in a book, scribbling notes. 

Remus lets his mind wander as he admires Sirius from afar. He still doesn’t know why he’s studying family law - Sirius could be married with kids for all Remus knows; though he doubts Sirius could stand to be away from said hypothetical children. He tries not to feel stung at the fact he laid his soul bare to Sirius and Sirius hasn’t offered him the same courtesy. He desperately wants to know why Sirius spends his days studying family law, and why he’s so reluctant to let Lily and James know, but he doesn’t want to ask - not only for the fact he doesn’t want to impose, but because he wants Sirius to tell him on his own accord - he wants Sirius to want to tell him. Sirius catches him then, smiling as their eyes meet, and nodding for Remus to join him.

“Like what you see?” Sirius wiggles his brows and closes the book he’s reading, as Remus feels his cheeks heat up at being caught staring. “So, plans for tonight young Moony?” 

Remus shrugs as he drops into the chair beside Sirius. “I’ll probably just make a big bowl of pasta and fall asleep watching Richard Osman’s House of Games,”

“Lovely. Do you have enough ingredients for two?” 

Remus laughs, and Sirius thinks it’s absolutely the loveliest thing in the world. “Inviting yourself over?” Sirius nods. “Well yes, of course I’ve enough ingredients for two,” 

“Excellent, I’ve brought a bottle of red and I’d just hate to see it go to waste,” 

“How presumptuous of you, Sirius Black,” 

“Well if you think a bottle of wine is presumptuous I won’t tell you about the change of clothes that’s in my bag,” 

Remus cannot remember the last time he drank on a weeknight - it’s one of those silly little rules he has to keep up with his silly little routine; he only drinks on weekends. The same usually goes for sex (but that’s because sex and drink go hand in hand to Remus). He thinks he can make an exception for Sirius, though. 

At the end of the working day both Sirius and Remus get into Remus’s car, with a suggestive look and a cheery farewell from Betty. Back at his house, Remus cooks them a spaghetti carbonara whilst Sirius plays all his favourite songs over the speakers, subsequently spending the length of the song giving a running commentary as to why it’s one of his favourites. Remus finds this disgustingly endearing and has to concentrate on listening to what Sirius is actually saying while fighting off the urge to kiss his stupid face off. 

As they eat dinner - Remus decides to broach the subject that has been tantalising him. 

“So,” he begins, feeling far more nervous than he should, “How’s the secret family law mission going?

“Oh, I’ve had all the information I’ve needed for ages - only took a few days, I just kept coming back to see you really - and try and work up the nerve to ask you out.” 

“You’re joking,” Remus laughs, swatting Sirius’s arm playfully. “So there was no studying family law, then? Here I was thinking you were in the middle of a divorce or something.”  

“No,” Sirius smiles gently, eyes soft, taking Remus’s large hands into his, playing with his fingers. “No divorce. But, well - I - I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while really, just didn’t want to scare you off,” 

“You can tell me,” Remus holds his breath as he waits for Sirius to start talking. 

“I did originally come in to have a bit of a read about family law. Basically, when I was sixteen I was disinherited. My family - they own Black & Co. It’s this big corrupt corporation, money laundering, tax fraud, modern slavery both here and abroad - I was in line to take it over, an heir to this huge business empire. But my family, they’re awful, awful people, Remus - to run a business like that you have to be. I’m talking racist, homophobic, misogynistic bigots. As you can probably assume they weren’t very loving parents. I was always a rebellious kid, and by the time they sent me to Hogwarts - that’s the boarding school James and I went to - when I was 11, they hated me. I think they thought they could beat the rebellion out of me, but it didn’t work - the more they pushed, the further away I got from Black & Co. and their ideals.

"The final straw was when the school called home to tell them I’d been caught in a compromising position with another boy in the locker rooms after a game of football. A gay son - it was the ultimate disappointment. They’d already paid the school fees so I was allowed to finish my education - but it was made clear I wasn’t welcome back in the Black household - good riddance, I say. Anyway, I was legally disowned, that’s when James’s parents took me in. I flitted between the Potters’ and my Uncle’s - another Black family member who was outcasted for his more liberal way of thinking.

"This was all years ago. We all went off to uni - James and Lily met and they moved up here, but I wanted to stay by Effie and Fleamont and my Uncle Alphard - he owned a music shop, you see - but he was too old to run it so I took over. Obviously we'd all visit each other as much as we could, I'm surprised we never met before now, to be honest, with you at the cafe every day.

"Old Alphard died not long ago - left everything to me. My family are fighting it legally - the inheritance is frozen, so I can’t access the money or the shop until it’s settled in court - so yeah, Effie and Fleamont are lending me the money for a good solicitor, but I just wanted to read up on the legalities a little bit.

"I decided to come and stay with James and Lils for a bit, just needed to get out of London, clear my head. But I was bored stiff in the house all day, and we decided it best if I didn't spend too much time at the cafe - me and James tend to get up to far too much mischief when we're together, Lily's nerves are fried from all the pranks at uni, I think. Harry goes to work with James and Lily in a morning and Lily's parents have him some afternoons until they finish, and he's started going to nursery too, so he wasn't around to keep me busy, so I just decided to go and explore - then I happened across the library, thought I'd have a read around the subject, see what I was getting myself into, and well, the rest is history, really-" Sirius winks at Remus at that. 

Surprisingly it’s anger that Remus feels upon hearing this. He feels angry for the little Sirius Black who was stripped of the only thing a child ever really asks for - to be loved. And he feels angry that even all these years later, even with all the money the Blacks have, they’re still vindictive enough to go after Sirius’s finances. He then feels a sad sort of pride that a man as lovely and kind and generous as Sirius was raised in such a hostile environment. Despite all the odds he still turned out inherently good. Remus finds he’s clenching his jaw, and Sirius chuckles, reaching over the table and taking Remus’ hand. 

“Hey,” he says softly. 

“No - God, no you’re not the one to be comforting me right now. That’s - that’s just absolutely fucking awful, Sirius, I’m so sorry-“ 

Sirius just shrugs. “You’re lovely when you’re angry,” 

Remus laughs at this, a sharp, barking laugh, throwing his head back. He feels such a swell of fondness for Sirius in this moment that it makes him feel faint. “You are lovely. Look at you. Despite it all. The loveliest person I’ve ever met. Comforting me, and laughing in the face of your adversities like this. You silly, incredible man,” To Remus’s surprise, Sirius blushes and looks away. “Are you blushing?” 

“Shut up,” Sirius grumbles, a shy smile taking over his features. 

“Can’t believe I made you blush-“ Remus is elated. He hasn’t grinned so hard probably ever. This is his life’s greatest achievement. He hopes he can make Sirius blush a million more times, whenever he gets the chance. 

“Well I’m sorry - that’s about the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. And I’m best mates with James for Christ sake - he says sickeningly nice things to me at least thrice a day,” 

“Come here,” Remus beckons, scooting his chair out from under the table and opening his arms for Sirius. Sirius sits on Remus’s lap, arms draped over his shoulders, nestling his head in Remus’s neck, as Remus runs his hands over Sirius’s spine, feeling every dip and groove. “Thank you. For telling me that,” 

Sirius tilts his head back and smiles gently at Remus, before dipping his head down and pressing his lips against Remus’s. 

Remus doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling of kissing Sirius. 

"Why didn't you tell Lily and James about the library?" Remus asks. 

"They worry about me enough," Sirius shrugs, "and James would've seen right through me, he'd know I was only going 'cause I fancied a bloke there and I'd never live it down," 

Remus can't help but laugh at this, and channels all the affection he feels for Sirius into a kiss.

They finish eating and retire to the sofa, finishing the bottle of red Sirius brought and accidentally having sex when they’re supposed to be watching Pitch Perfect. Afterwards, they discuss the fact Sirius doesn’t need to come to the library anymore - and though Sirius insists he’ll still pop in and drop Remus off a coffee, they agree to see each other elsewhere. Sirius explains that despite the fact his family are extremely rich and influential, he and his solicitor are confident he’ll win his court-case. Remus asks him with held breath what he thinks he’ll do after - his heart thundering at the idea of Sirius moving back to London. Sirius shrugs. “I think I’ve fallen in love with Yorkshire,” he says, a twinkle in his eye that makes Remus shudder. “I’ll still be the owner of Alphard’s shop - but I’ll hire a manager. I’ll keep my flat in London, cause it’s handy to have, - it’s near Effie and Fleamont, and I’ll have to go in the shop from time to time. Might rent it out. Might not. But yeah - I think my first big purchase with the inheritance will be somewhere around here. Be near James, and Lily, and my darling little Godson. It’s all very green and lovely, I like the cows - and there’s this magnificent cat called Paul I’d like to see more of.” Remus can’t help but laugh with glee, throwing himself on top of Sirius and kissing him. “And there’s a certain moonboy who makes a fabulous carbonara, and the most terrific noise when he comes-“ 

“Sirius!” Remus laughs, blushing profusely, swatting Sirius’s arm. Sirius just grins back at him. 

“What do you say then? Shall I stay?” 

“Yes please,” 

They have sex once more downstairs, and again when they go to bed. 

It’s midnight by the time Remus and Sirius fall asleep, tangled in each other, naked and very sated. 

Remus gets up at the later time of 7:40 and nearly has a heart attack as he realises he’s slept in by ten minutes. For the first time in years he misses the news segment on the radio, and as he and Sirius are getting dressed for the day, he accidentally uses Sirius’s deodorant instead of his own tried and true Dove For Men. Sirius feeds Paul as Remus feeds the cows, and he has to drop Sirius off at James’s so he arrives at work five minutes late for the first time in his entire career. When Betty sees him she just laughs, and pats him on the back. 

“Oh I’m so proud of you,” 

And though Remus Lupin is a creature of habit, he thinks doesn’t mind one bit if Sirius Black comes along and makes a big mess of it all.