#wolfstar au

Sirius, at a coffee shop holding the queue: *Blushing hard* This is awkward. How do I say bye? I mean I’m going to be back tomorrow. Should I go in for a soft kiss?

Remus: *With a poker face* Sir, please just take your coffee and leave so that the people behind you don’t murder you in my shop.

Sirius:Moony!

Remus: Not now, Sirius. I’m busy.

Sirius: *Huskily* Moony, my pretty Moony, pay attention to your devilishly gorgeous man, eagerly sprawled out in front of you…

Remus: *Looking up from his book dangerously* Shut the fuck up or I won’t choke you with my hand around your throat while I suck you off until you’re begging me to let you cum as I’d promised earlier.

Remus: Sirius, please get up. It’s too late now.

Sirius: Noooo! Moony, I can’t. I just want to stay in bed all day and do nothing.

Remus:Don’t be so damn lazy! Come on now. You can do this.

Sirius: Whoa, don’t underestimate my incapability, my love!

Sirius: Does talking non stop make me look stupid?

Remus: What?! No!

Remus: Your stupid ass makes your stupid ass look stupid.

Lily: Who says negative reinforcement doesn’t produce positive results?

Remus: For example, behold these two men, trying not to move a muscle because the bet is whoever moves first won’t get laid tonight.

James, to Remus and Sirius: Hey, can I come over and stay the night at yours? Lily’s kicked me out for talking back to her.

Remus: Yeah, sure thing, Prongs!

Sirius: YES! I perform better with an audience!

amortentiando:

From the series of: Wolfstar raising Harry

Harry loved Sirius’s drawings.

Since he discovered them, stored in a box on top of a closet, he’d sometimes spend hours looking at them one by one. Most of them were drawings of Remus, of course, and contained a signature of Sirius Black and a date written in ink in the corner of the sheet, all dating from 1975 to 1979. Most of them were clearly captured moments at Hogwarts, in the Gryffindor common room, or in the boys’ dormitory, as his godfather himself had told Harry. Some showed Remus sitting in an armchair by the fireplace reading a book, others were doodles of his profile sitting on a chair in the classroom a few feet away. One showed Remus sleeping on some pieces of parchment on a table, and on another he held a cup of something steaming, while sitting on a window, looking outside.

Harry loved each of those drawings because he felt like he could almost be there, feeling the moment when he looked at them. He had found one of his father, fallen asleep while sitting with his cheek pressed to his hand and his crooked glasses, which Sirius said was one morning when he fell asleep in the middle of Professor McGonagall’s class and ended up getting detention for it. Sirius let Harry have that one, and the boy hung it on the wall next to his bed. He loved looking at his father every night before going to sleep, and wished he had one of his mother too. From the pictures, she seemed so beautiful. Harry even tried to ask his godfather to draw his mother, but he said he didn’t know if he could draw anymore and that he certainly wouldn’t remember her features so perfectly to do so. Even though he couldn’t quite explain why, Harry felt very sad that night and Remus realized that when he went to say good night.

“Your mother was amazing, Harry. She was beautiful, not only on the outside but also on the inside. She and I were great friends. You have every right to feel sad that you haven’t met her. ”

“That’s not it,” the boy replied. “Not exactly.”

“So what is it?”

“It’s just… you and Sirius don’t remember what they looked like anymore. In time, you’ll will forget even more, and I will never really know, and they didn’t deserve it. To be forgotten. ”

Remus couldn’t answer for a moment. He nodded, swallowing hard, and finally murmured:

“You’re right.”

Sirius didn’t know what gift to give Harry on his eleventh birthday. He always gave him a toy or they went to meet some place the boy really wanted to meet, but this time Harry was already too old for toys and he wanted to give the boy something more important to celebrate his eleventh birthday and his entry into Hogwarts, when the official invitation finally arrived. But July came and it was almost over and Sirius didn’t know what to give him until Remus told him what Harry had said about his parents, and he figured out what to do. He would try to draw a picture of Harry with his parents as best he could.

However, Sirius soon came to the frustrating conclusion that he definitely didn’t know how to draw anymore. His skills were nowhere near what they were before, during his hot , inconsequential youth, when art was part of who he was and there were no other worries, when he had not lost the people he loved most and everything was still easy. Or maybe it was easier because back then, when he managed to name his feelings for Remus, he just had to look at the boy to feel all the nerve endings in his body inspire to put on paper what Lupin really was: a masterpiece.

It was with this in mind that he stopped wiping the quill on his face absently and looked at Remus, that was facing the other way in front of the sink making coffee and wearing a frayed old shirt that had once belonged to him – or so he thought, but couldn’t be sure. For so many years they had been sharing everything, that even most of his clothes already belonged to both of them. No, Sirius thought, sitting at the kitchen table with the parchment and ink in front of him. I still see a masterpiece when I look at him.I could still draw him  on every inch of this scroll without even having to look at him for long. But the problem, he soon realized, was that Harry was right. It wasn’t Remus he needed to draw, it was James and Lily. And he no longer remembered his friends’ faces, the little details that made a difference, that made the drawing more real.

Black dropped the quill on the paper and sighed heavily, scratching his eyes with his hands and resting his face on his palms. He felt Remus approach from behind and kiss his cheek close to his ear as he dropped a cup of coffee in front of him on the table. They had both woken up just minutes ago, it was still early Monday morning, and the first thing they did, as always, was to check the mail and go to the kitchen.

“What’s the matter?” Remus sat next to him and pulled out the newspaper to read.

“Harry was right when he said that. I don’t remember them anymore, not everything… Not enough to draw them.” Sirius sighed heavily, staring at the sketch he had tried to start.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, Sirius.” Remus touched his arm. “Harry will love it anyway, you know that.”

“His birthday is tomorrow and I could barely get started on it yet. And you know how I hate doing things in half…” Sirius ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. “Isn’t it ridiculous? That I’ve forgotten them? He was my best friend. My brother.” He looked at Remus, bewildered, searching for some words of comfort. “Do you remember them?”

Remus dropped the coffee cup in his hands and turned to his husband.

“Do you know how much time has passed?”

“Ten years,” Sirius concluded, without much thought. In October of that year the death of James and Lily would complete ten years. Time had literally flown by, for if Sirius thought of the beginning, in the first weeks after their death, when he thought he would never recover, he could see the great path they had taken. It was only a few years ago that they stopped scratching each calendar day, another craze they had acquired together, to count the days they had survived missing the Potters. Each scratched day was both a victory and a deeper pain. Each scratched day was like a burden to both of them, a reminder that no matter how many days were scratched, the pain would not pass, the longing would always be there, and they would never return. It was then, realizing that this was doing more harm than good, that Remus decided it was time to stop. Sirius still remembered the night when, before bed, his husband stopped in front of the fridge with his quill in his hand and stared at the calendar for countless minutes. Finally he took it from the refrigerator door, dropped it on the floor and looked at Sirius. The only thing he said was “do it” without explaining anything. “Do it, and we’ll get it over with. And leave it behind.” Sirius took his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the calendar. He muttered a spell that set the paper on fire and they both watched it burn for a while.

The other day, the longing was the same.

“Ten years,” Remus agreed, bringing him back to the moment. “It’s too much time. You can’t remember everything, Pads. It’s not your fault. I don’t remember them either. But we still remember the main things, the most important moments. Nothing can take it from us.”

Sirius nodded, he was right. Remus always knew what to say. He then felt one of Remus’ gentle kisses on his lips before the man turned back to the Daily Prophet on his hands.

Sirius took a sip of his own coffee and looked back at the parchment, determined to try his best. He dipped the tip of the quill in ink, but when was about to begin, Harry appeared in the kitchen yawning and shuffling his feet. Sirius quickly pulled a sheet of newspaper over the drawing and dropped the quill. He watched the boy stop in the middle of the kitchen and scratch his eyes, adjusting his glasses in place and running his hands through his messy hair. He blinked a few times and looked at the two men sitting at the table before smiling and saying good morning.

For a moment it was as if Sirius saw James Potter for the first time again, on the Hogwarts Express platform. The boy, growing taller and slender every day, with round glasses and tousled, minimally curled hair, had the same dark skin as his father, the same careless, quiet expression, almost the same voice and manner. Sirius could see, for a brief second, James Potter’s face perfectly in his mind. It was a brief, fleeting image, but it was enough to make him sure he could finish that drawing now.

“You look so much like your father,” he said, unable to hold back the thought.

“Except the eyes,” Remus added, also watching the boy.

“You have your mother’s eyes” Sirius agreed and smiled.

Vaincre

February (part two)

Sirius took Remus’ hand across the center console, and let out a breath when Remus squeezed it.

“Maybe…” Remus began. “Maybe I should take it off?” He looked down at the ring, the diamond catching the sunlight. “God, I don’t want to, but maybe just for today.”

“Non, non,” Sirius shook his head, eyes on the road. “I don’t think anyone would want you to feel like that.” Sirius, eyes still sad, sent a smile Remus’ way. “I also don’t want you to take it off.”

“I know, but, maybe…” Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes. “God, I have fucking, like…emotional whiplash or something.”

“Tell me about it,” Sirius mumbled and threw his blinker on. He looked tired. They’d stayed up late, very happily, and then even later still once Remus had made the mistake of checking his phone before bed. “Merde, I…I really didn’t think…”

“I mean, maybe it’s one of those loan trades, you know?” Remus said. “That makes the most sense to me, Tremz’s contract had, what, one more season on it? He was about to be a free agent, the Rangers were looking for a solid winger for their top line and we’re slumping hard.”

“Loan doesn’t always mean we get him back, though,” Sirius said. “And I want him back.”

“No, but it means new blood, a mix-up. We’ve seen teams coming right off of a Cup do this before. I wouldn’t be surprised if management thinks we needed a kick in the ass.”

“This isn’t a kick in the ass,” Sirius sighed as the arena came into view. “This is a kick in the teeth.”

Remus brought Sirius’ knuckles up to his lips and kissed them. “I know. I know it is. I’m not trying to reason it out, I just…”

“At least one of us can see reason in it,” Sirius raised a few fingers off of the steering wheel at Ned, who manned the parking lot booth. There were fans at the gate, as always, but Sirius gave them a shaky smile only. Remus saw a few holding up Tremblay jerseys and looked away.

“Do you think Finn and Leo are in?” Remus asked as the jerseys disappeared from his rear view mirror.

“I don’t know…I don’t even want to think about them. What—what do we even say to them?” Remus watched the way Sirius’ hands flexed on the steering wheel, watched his chest rise and fall tightly. “And Dumo. And…practice is just going to be horrible—who thought this would help us?”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Remus said softly. Remus knew he was part of that us, but this was still Sirius’ team. Sirius shouldered more weight than he did, and always would when it came to the team’s wellbeing. And he had a point. The Lions, anyone had to admit, had been more or less unchanged for much longer than any other team in the League. It was unheard of, boarder-line strange, how little trading had been done in the past five years. Kasey had been acquired of course, but Cole and Leo were products of the draft—no switch-arounds necessary. And then there was himself, an entirely different and even stranger case.

Remus had always admired it as a PT, how tightly-knit a group the Lions were, but it had always scared him a little, too—especially when he’d really started to get to know Sirius. Bonds like that didn’t break easy, and they would never break in the way hockey expected them to. No one on this Lions roster would ever have an easy go of friends-one-day-old-teammates-the-next. Logan wasn’t a Ranger now. He was a Lion in the wrong sweater. Remus was worried because he wasn’t sure Logan, especially Logan, was going to be able to stop feeling that way like the League expected him to.

“This isn’t happening,” Sirius breathed as they pulled into their spot near the elevators. He all but yanked the car into park. “I’m talking to Coach.”

Sirius, without a proper family, had woven one around him through what seemed like sheer willpower and skill. He was good enough to make those around him even better. It was why the lines worked and stayed the same. Remus wondered just how much pull Sirius might actually have. He also worried about what Sirius would put himself through if he couldn’t turn this around.

Remus sighed and then slipped off his ring and put it into his pocket. For now, it was for the best. He pushed out of the car after Sirius.

“And say what?” Remus said, jogging a few steps to where Sirius was waiting for him, palm up. Remus laced their fingers together. Sirius frowned at his fingers.

“Just for now, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know,” Sirius sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, said something low and frustrated in French that Remus didn’t catch.

“Sirius,” Remus tugged him to a stop in front of the elevator. Sirius glanced down at Remus’ look of warning, but his jaw remained tight and defiant. “Don’t put this on yourself.”

“It’s not on me,” Sirius said. He jammed the elevator button and looked down at Remus. “It’s on them. And I’m going to make them see that.”

When they reached their floor, even the hallway was quiet, not to mention the eerily still locker room. Remus pushed the locker room door open first, and some of the boys looked up and straight at Sirius. Remus felt the way Sirius’ posture changed, shifting into his role, but his hand tightened around Remus’. He was scared. He wasn’t sure how to lead them, or where. Logan’s absence was in the air like mist. Leo and Finn were in their stalls, Logan’s empty one, a blaring light beside Finn. Leo was studying Sirius carefully, whereas Finn didn’t look up at all, just focused on the roll of tape he was wrapping a stick with as it went round and round. With a jolt, Remus realized he was wearing Logan’s necklace. He kept glancing at his phone, face-up in his stall beside him. Remus caught Leo’s eye, finally, but when he took one step forward, Leo shook his head minutely, sent him a shaky smile, and dropped his gaze, shadowed by the brim of his hat. He didn’t want to talk. Remus didn’t blame him.

“I already can’t take this. I’ll be right back.” Sirius didn’t exactly whisper and earned himself more than a few curious looks as gave Remus’ hand a squeeze before letting it go and banging back out into the hallway again, where the coaches offices were.

“Sirius,” Remus couldn’t help but hiss out, but he was already gone. Remus closed his eyes briefly. He turned back to the room and cast a quick glance around. Leo, Finn, looking like wrecks. Sullen faces. Pascal, tired eyes and watching Remus carefully.

“Hey, Loo.”

Remus looked and found, with relief, that Thomas was standing by the coffee cart. He tried not to walk over too quickly. Thomas looked sad, too, but really his face shared Remus’ worry more than anything else.

“I love our boy,” Thomas said, nodding into the direction Sirius had just left in. “But what the hell was that?”

“He thinks he can talk sense into…well.” Remus wasn’t even sure he should say it. “He thinks he can get Logan back.”

“Can he?”

They both turned to look at Finn, who was standing now, brown eyes alert, almost a little wild. Remus couldn’t stop glancing at Logan’s necklace around his neck.

“Can Sirius do something? Because if he can—”

“Finn,” Leo said quietly from behind him. He reached out for Finn’s sleeve but Finn pulled away.

“If he can, he should. If he has any pull, he’s gotta use it.” Finn’s voice was firm, fiery. “Logan belongs here—”

He was cut off this time, not by Leo, but by the door opening. Kota Takahashi walked through.

If the locker room had been quiet before, it was soundless now. Kota had an expression on his face like he regretted walking in, his footsteps slowing to a stop just inside the door. He looked at Finn, and Finn looked back, brown eyes hard. Remus was struck by how much he didn’t look like himself. He’d never seen Finn be anything but kind except on the ice, which was different. Now, Finn turned on his heel sharply, swiping his phone up out of his stall before brushing out of the room without a word.

Kota adjusted his bag over his shoulder uncomfortably. “Uh. Hey, guys.” His eyes found Kasey. “Winter.”

Kasey stood, a little awkward with one goal pad already strapped onto his leg, and reached out a hand. “How’ve you been, Kota?”

Their voices seemed loud in the room and Remus’ brain raced for something, anything to say. The two must have been on the Rangers together, and Remus opened his mouth to ask about it, when he remembered. The Rangers probably weren’t the best topic right now. God, it felt like they were all at open sea.

“Been all right,” Kota said. His eyes darted after Finn. “You know. Short flight, all that.”

“Right,” Kasey smiled, but it was shaky. “Well, welcome to Gryffindor. We should grab a drink tonight.” He looked at Remus. “Loops? T?”

“Hell yeah,” Thomas said and strode forward. His smile lit up the room, as usual. Remus all but felt some of the misty dimness subside. Thank God for Thomas Walker. “What’s up, man, welcome to the team. We’ll show you all the best spots. You like pool?”

Kota seemed to feel the tension ease, too, just a tad. “Absolutely, if you like losing.”

“Oh-ho,” Thomas laughed. “Well, if it’s me you’re challenging, that might be a good bet.” He jerked a thumb back at Remus. “But don’t go making words at this guy, he’ll flatten you with that table.”

Remus couldn’t help but smile at that. “Come on, T, he might be a secret champion, we don’t know. Hey, Kota, nice to meet you.”

Remus watched Kota look him over. He didn’t take it personally. He’d felt the same stares from across the ice. Guys were curious about him, and he knew that the rumors of favoritism or worse flew around the League. But Kota shook his hand and smiled easily.

“Nice to me you, Lupin. Where’s your other half?”

Remus narrowed his eyes a little, saw Thomas do the same. He thought it was kind of sloppy form when people they didn’t know in hockey referred to Sirius and his relationship rather than their professional roles. But he decided that Kota might mean nothing by it, might just be nervous.

“The Captain’s talking to Coach,” Remus replied.

Kota raised an eyebrow. “You always call him that?”

Remus crossed his arms. Two strikes. “When I’m in this room, that’s what he is.”

“You should probably call him that, too,” Thomas said, a little more friendly, tag-teaming with Remus’ cooler look. It worked, the read each other just like on the ice. Remus felt a flood of warmth because of it.

Kota, to his credit, looked taken aback. “I—oh, no, yeah, I…of course. I didn’t mean…” he looked at Remus, then at Thomas, then away and to his stall. “Um.”

Leo was sitting stiffly in his locker, staring at the place Finn had just been. Remus watched him blink once, twice, shoulders rising and falling in a sharp breath, before he stood and threw on a shaky smile.

“Hey, Kota, I’m Leo. Welcome to Gryffindor.” His accent seemed stronger from lack of sleep, Remus thought, the way Sirius’ got, too. His words drawled sweetly but Remus could see the effort it took. Leo wasn’t that much younger than him, but Remus suddenly felt a familiar swell of pride, the same he got for Julian sometimes. That smile of Leo’s must have been killing him.

“Hey, Knut, right?” Kota smiled. “Looks like we’re seat mates.”

“Looks like,” Leo nodded.

“Uh,” Kota glanced at Finn’s empty space. “Guess you guys’ll be missing Tremblay around here, huh?”

Leo went a little pale.

“Most,” Evgeni’s deep voice came, and he gave Kota’s shoulder a hard pat as he passed, headed for the ice. “We drink tonight. You impress.”

“That was an invitation, not a threat,” Jackson smiled appeasingly and shook Kota’s hand as he followed Evgeni. “Even though they always sound a little similar coming from him. See you out there.”

Kota sat down heavily in Logan’s seat, looking a little dazed.

“We miss him, yeah,” Leo said quietly from beside him. “But we’re real glad to have you.”

Finally, Remus thought when the locker room doors opened again. Some of the team had already made it out onto the ice as Sirius followed Coach back through the doors. Remus widened his eyes at Sirius a little, hoping where the hell have you been? came across clearly. Sirius looked back, eyes stormy. Obviously, he hadn’t been as successful as he had hoped.

Kota was on his feet again in a second, looking at Sirius the way they all did. Almost hungry, awe-filled and excited. I’m going to play with Sirius Black, he’d probably said to someone. His partner, maybe, or his parents. Sirius fucking Black.

“Takahashi,” Coach said. “How you doin’? These guys giving you trouble?” He looked back at Sirius when he said trouble and Sirius stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Uh,” Kota said, then laughed a little. “No?”

Coach arched a brow, smiling. “Yeah. You sound real sure about that.”

“C’mon, we’re all making plans!” Kasey said. “That’s all, Coach, that’s all.”

“Yeah? Well, why don’t you all plan to get your butts out on the ice in twenty, okay?”

“Yes, Coach,” Remus chorused with the rest of them, then gave Sirius an elbow to the ribs.

“Kota,” Sirius said, stepping forward. “How was your flight over?”

“Short,” Kota said again, a little breathlessly. “Hi. Captain.”

Sirius blinked, then began to smile. “Oh, uh, you can just call me Si—”

Thomas clapped loudly. “We gotta get to that ice, boys. Let’s go, Captain!”

Kota all but jumped back to his stall to get changed, and Remus tapped Sirius lightly on his back to get him to follow him away.

“Really?” Remus said when they were alone. “What the hell was that, walking away—”

“It’s one year,” Sirius said in a low voice to Remus. “It’s a one year contract, and it’s meant to get the Rangers into the playoffs this year. If the Rangers make the playoffs, we get two of their first round picks.”

“Well…” Remus sighed. “Okay. Now you know. But you’ve got a new player in there who, thanks to Finn, really already knows just how welcomed he is here and—”

“Well, management should know how important Logan is here,” Sirius cut him off. “Regarde—Look at the fans, even, it’s all over fucking Twitter, no one is happy. C’est—It’s a bullshit move.”

“All right, I know, I know,” Remus said, and stroked a hand up and down Sirius’ arm as Sirius rubbed at his eyes. “I know, baby. I miss him, too.”

“Sirius?” They looked up to see Finn there, half-dressed in his padding.

“What did they say?” Finn said. “I—look, if the Rangers don’t make the playoffs, maybe he can come back.”

Sirius looked at Finn quietly for a moment. “Maybe. But Finn…”

Remus reached into his pocket and touched his ring nervously. “Guys, we have no control over this.”

“We can keep them out of the playoffs by playing better,” Finn said flatly.

“That’s ridiculous,” Remus said. “We’re not the only two teams in the Met Division, Finn.”

“We could at least try—”

“Quoi, and we weren’t trying before?” Sirius snapped. “Go get dressed, Harzy.”

Finn looked like he wanted to argue, looked like it took some effort to turn back to the locker room. Remus looked up at Sirius.

“You okay?”

“Let’s just go,” Sirius sighed and then leaned down to kiss Remus’ temple. “See how Kota plays, I guess.”

“Be nice,” Remus said. “It’s not his fault.”

“I’m always nice,” Sirius said, a smile creeping onto his face.

“You’re intimidating,” Remus said, and leaned up for a light kiss.

“What happened with the Captain thing?” Sirius murmured into the kiss.

“Nothing,” Remus said. It wasn’t really a problem—if it was, then he’d tell. “Now, come on before Coach makes us do sprints.”

~

“We didn’t lose that game,” Percy was saying, beer in one hand, the other pounding on the bar table. “It ran away.”

Logan watched as Will snorted into his own glass. “That’s not how it works, Perc.”

The bar was loud and crowded, but Logan preferred it that way—at least while he was tucked into a booth between teammates. It was classic. Logan recognized it as one of Finn’s favorite places, all license plates and two dollar bills covering the walls. The booths were of red, cracked leather and there were softly buzzing neon signs on the walls that said things like Pabst Blue Ribbon, to NOQUITNY. They were recognized by almost everyone who walked in, but beside a few cheers and back slaps, they were left alone. Maybe that’s why the boys frequented this place so much. The beer pitchers were cold and the owner, a guy fondly referred to as Lenny who remembered Logan all the way back from college, had a tan, kind-eyed face that made Logan think of Pascal.

Logan checked the clock then took out his phone.

I miss you, he typed out. He wasn’t sure why that was easier to write than anything to Leo or Finn, but it was. Pascal replied immediately.

We all miss you very much, Logan. You’re playing so well!! Celeste wants to send you some things so get us your address when you can

And then, a second text: Also we’re taking you down in April

Logan clicked his phone off and ran a hand over his face. He realized that he was smiling. Dumo. God, he missed Dumo.

It felt almost like old times with Percy on his left and Will on his right. And there was Alex, who was a mean, trick-of-the-light version of Finn. Luke and Saint had joined, too, and he knew Fox and Miller and some of the other guys were around here somewhere. It was okay like this. He was okay like this. People talking around him. They were fresh off of another win that was bringing them closer and closer to the play-offs, which he knew was why he was here in the first place, even if it didn’t feel like those wins even belonged to him. The Rangers had been willing to let go of two first round picks for him. And he was playing well. Being met with the roar of Madison Square Garden was any little kid’s dream. But then he’d go home at the end of the day, after the adrenaline wore off, and he’d be alone again. Finn would call. Leo would text. But something in him just couldn’t face it.

Logan flashed a smile to Percy when their eyes met, but ducked his head down a little, taking a sip of his beer.

“No, no, no,” Percy was still on the old Harvard game they’d been talking about. “Wisconsin—those hits Wisconsin used to hand out were lethal and dirty. We could’ve stole it in penalty minutes but—”

“You do know how long ago that game was, don’t you?” Logan replied, hoping to get Percy to stop looking at him like that, like he could see right into Logan’s brain.

Alex scoffed. “Oh, like you ever forget a game, Tremzy.”

Logan let a small smile creep onto his face. He figured Alex remembered parts of Logan and Finn’s Harvard days as well as they did. Logan had all but lived at their New York place during the first part of their summers.

“I guess I don’t,” Logan said.

“Hey, when we play Gryf in a few weeks, we gotta get Harzy out with us,” Percy said. “I mean, c’mon, how fucking perfect is this? The gang’s back together. The O’Hara brothers, us—”

“We’re feeling real included right now, Perseus,” Saint piped in dryly.

Percy just laughed and stole Saint’s hat—which Logan was pretty sure had actually been on Luke’s head at the beginning of the night—and placed it over his thick blond curls.

“You can come, too!” Percy said. “Finn’ll get a real kick out of you.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile at that. He was right. Finn would like Saint. He was loud and sarcastic and had the locker room in stitches most of the time, even Logan. Even Luke, who seemed to spend most of his time scowling at anyone and anything—except Saint. Or, usually, especially Saint. Even now, he narrowed his eyes at Percy and snatched his hat back, but returned it to Saint’s head instead of his own.

The truth was, Logan missed Gryffindor more than anything…but he liked this team. They had the same tight-knit nature as the Lions did, looking out for each other off ice as much as on.

“Wonderful,” Saint rolled his. brown eyes. “I love being invited so people can get a kick out of me.”

Percy waved him off and slapped Logan on the back instead. “Tremzy, come get the next round with me, eh?”

Logan supposed that he did want another beer. He was feeling loose. Relaxed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that way. It was like a bad headache had finally cleared up to a small ache behind the skull.

“Ouais,” Logan said. “Yeah, let’s go. Fries, too?”

“Fuck yes,” Luke said as he stretched out an arm along the back of the booth behind Saint. Logan’s eye caught on how his fingers brushed along the back of Saint’s neck, dipping below the collar of his t-shirt for a flash of a second.

Logan knew that move. He knew that move all too well. Half of Logan’s life was that move. When Saint saw him looking though, he didn’t flinch. He smiled, arching an eyebrow that was almost challenging. Yes? it said. And?

Logan followed Percy up to the bar.

“So,” Percy reached for one of the bowls of peanuts at the bar and popped a few into his mouth. His Star of David caught the light of some of the neon signs—bright blue and red. “What is it, are you and Harz not close anymore or something? Because, frankly, that’s hard to imagine.”

Logan felt his own eyebrows rise in surprise. “What?”

Percy shrugged, leaning on his elbows the way Logan was. It was nice to be around someone his own height for once. And Percy was just as scrappy. They made a good team with Alex as their center.

“Every time I bring him up, you, like…flinch or something, I don’t know.”

Logan straightened, flexing his wrists against the slightly sticky wood bar top. “I—no, we’re, y’know.”

“FinnAndLogan?” Percy smiled.

Logan laughed. “We’re really close.” He cleared his throat. “Guess I just miss him.”

“Been a while since you played without each other.”

Logan looked down, picking at a lone napkin that had a wet glass ring on it. It came apart easily in his hands. “Ouais.”

“Maybe us Harvard boys aren’t supposed to be apart, eh?” Percy said, and then stayed quiet for a while when Logan merely nodded. The bar tender was still busy, hung up with a crowd that looked like a bachelorette party. Percy tapped out a few different rhythms on the bar, reminding Logan that he played guitar. Logan had fallen asleep lots of nights to the soft, electric chords coming from the room below him in Harvard’s OKN house.

“I’m sorry, Tremz,” Percy finally said, more quietly. “You’ve been having kind of a hard time with this trade, haven’t you? I can see it. Morgy can, too.” Percy knocked their shoulders together. “We know you, man, don’t forget.”

Logan bit down on the inside of his cheek hard. “I’m okay. Hockey’s hockey.”

“Bullshit.” Percy leaned in. “I know it’s been a while between us, but I was there when Finn and Will graduated. It hit you harder than it hit me, and Will’s my best friend in the whole world.”

“I…” Logan said. He could feel himself drawing in. This was getting too close for comfort. “What do you…”

“I’m just saying I’m here for you,” Percy said, and finally the bar tender noticed them. He tapped Logan on the back. “And I know Morg and Hazard are, too. That’s all.”

“What can I get for you, gents?” the barman said.

“Another round, Mike,” Percy said, and with a pointed look at Logan, “And some fries.”

Logan gave him a shove and smiled, and just like that something eased again, right back into place. Logan didn’t have a lot of positive emotions associated with the phrase likeno time passed at all, but he was more than happy to feel that way with Percy.

“C’mon,” Logan threw an arm around Percy’s shoulder. “I’ll kick your ass a bubble hockey.”

Logan looked around his new apartment as he closed the door, easy with a pleasant buzz. He felt good, with laughter left over in his mouth. The second the door closed behind him though, the quiet was so loud that it rang. He kept expecting something different, but it was always this. Quiet. The warm smell of beer and fries was left by the door as he hung up his jacket, like Leo would have wanted. He swallowed and tried to keep it with him. It had felt good to talk to Will and Percy again. Alex was as fun to be around as he always remembered. Saint had such wild stories that Logan wondered if he’d lived another life before hockey. Logan clung to it as he kicked his shoes off. He went to his electric kettle and flicked it on before opening the cupboard above it. It was bare except for a box of mint tea. This part felt okay, too, now. Methodical. Familiar. The kettle boiled and Logan drew another long breath in before letting it out again.

He was tossing his teabag when his phone began to ring. Finn’s face lit up his screen. It was a picture from Logan’s freshman year of college, Finn’s sophomore. Finn was slumped low in a library chair and looked exhausted, but happy. Logan wanted to kiss the purple beneath his eyes, wanted to touch the way his hood pushed his hair forward. Logan stared at it and stared at it until it went to voicemail. A text followed, almost immediately.

Night, Lo xoxoxoxoxoxoxo love you so much

The tears sprang up so fast that it actually pulledthe corners of Logan’s mouth down a little, drew his eyebrows together. He blinked hard. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe Percy’s words from earlier, but the feeling from the bar—lighter, something beginning to ease off of his shoulders—disappeared with a snap. He missed them so fiercely it burned.

Hope the apartment is okay. Leo says not to leave your towels on the bathroom floor.

Logan definitely had left his towel on the floor, wet. He rubbed at his eyes, feeling hopeless at all of it all over again. Living alone. Being alone. Even at feeling okay. Was he really doing better if the feeling could vanish just like that?

Finn’s texts were nearly a steady stream. Logan didn’t reply. He wantedto. He could picture it. Went to your favorite spot tonight. Had Italian with the boys last night, Leo’s is better. He’d told him he needed time but he wasn’t sure Finn had completely understood. Not talking didn’t mean Logan wanted to be talked at. He wanted to grab Finn by the shoulders and shake him. And kiss him.

Please call, was the last thing Finn had said before he’d left. Please.

Maybe it was guilt that was eating at him, too.

Logan sipped his tea and leaned against the counter, staring around the space. The furniture wasn’t theirs. The refrigerator was take-out leftovers. Logan couldn’t look at anything without choking up. When he was alone, he had constant goosebumps but he couldn’t seem to shiver. Eventually, Leo’s text came, too. Leo, who was probably having trouble sleeping. And Logan wasn’t there.

Good game tonight <3 Leo’s text came in.

Neither of them pushed him to call or text back exactly, but the unspoken words were there. More imagined responses flitted through Logan’s head. I miss our midnight talks. God, he missed everything about Leo.

Logan held the phone to his ear and tried to will the lump in his throat away. The phone only rang once.

“Hi, Lolo,” Noelle chimed. “How’s the big apple treating you?”

Logan dropped to an elbow against his kitchen counter and inhaled a sharp, hitching breath. “Noelle…”

“Oh,” Noelle whispered. “God, Logan, hey…” she sounded like she was moving away from other people, closing a door. She switched to French. “I know. I know, Lo. Go ahead. You can cry, you’re all right. I’m right here.”

Logan pressed his forehead into the crook of his arm and fought away the tears. “It’s been—I need to be okay by now. I can’t do this, what if I can’t do this?”

“You can. Logan, you’re doing it, of course it’s going to take time.” Noelle had what Logan liked to think of as her big sister voice on. It wasn’t so different than her captain voice. “What do your boys say?”

Logan had known in making this call that he would run straight into that question. And he’d made the call anyway. Your boys. But they felt so far away.

“We haven’t talked.”

He was met by a silence that made him rub at his eyes fiercely. It brought spots to his gaze as he looked around the dim kitchen. A siren was whining down a street somewhere nearby.

“You haven’t…” Noelle began. “Logan.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Logan sighed.

“First of all, you can’t even see me,” Noelle scoffed. “And second—Logan. What the hell?”

“Ican’t.” Logan was surprised by how hoarsely he said the words. “Noelle, I…”

Logan grit his teeth against the fresh wave of tears that threatened, hung up the call, and dropped his face into his folded arms, willing himself not to cry. He ignored her both times she tried to call him back.

~

It was getting better, but not by much. Maybe this is what it was now, Remus thought. Back and forth, like any homesickness and grief. Springing between okay and not okay with only time to rely on to make it better. The next week felt like five. Remus could tell the coaching staff was noticing, too. Everything was stilted. Finn couldn’t make a shot—but Leo couldn’t seem to miss one. The fuel of Logan’s absence seemed to bring different things to different people. Sirius took breath away with insane angled shots, Finn delivered hits like never before, but he was scrappy about it. The littlest comment sent him off the rails, taking stupid penalty after stupid penalty. And then, Sirius would go in after, defending him. They played 4 on 3 more than Remus even wanted to think about. Still, they were winning games now. Six in a row so far and still running hot.

Remus stood by Leo’s goal when Coach blew the whistle between scrimmages at practice. He didn’t push, and Leo didn’t respond to his presence for a few long moments, but finally he let out a breath. Remus had a feeling he was holding it all in. Remus skated a little closer, watching as Leo shoved his mask up and took some water, then pushing it back down again. He traced another line around the crease.

“Do you know he stayed with Alex for a couple weeks, but he’s got his own place now?” Leo finally said, as if they’d been talking already.

“Oh?” Remus replied, trying not to sound too overly interested. “No, I didn’t. Sirius has tried to reach out, but…That’s nice. Do you have pictures?”

“No, he…” Leo chewed on his lip for a second. “He sent us, like, one text.”

Remus nodded, taking that in. He looked over to Finn, who was getting an earful from one of the assistant coaches. “What do you mean, ‘one text’?”

Leo looked down, tracing the blue crease of his goal with his stick. “Nothing. He…he won’t really talk to us.”

Remus’ heart sank. “You mean…since he left?” he asked softly. He had been so long.

“He warned us,” Leo added quickly, and kept his mask down. A barrier. A shield. “We’re not—like, we understand. Well,” he sent a glance towards Finn, now giving the coach back just as good. “Iunderstand. But still. It’s been so long…and my birthday…”

Leo cut the word off halfway through, as if he wished he hadn’t said it. He gave his head a hard shake.

“Well, I thought he’d call, at least.”

“Oh, Nutty,” Remus said again. He couldn’t imagine getting traded and not calling Sirius the second he got to wherever he was going. “Well…I mean, I don’t know. Lo’s very…”

“Scared?” Leo supplied. “Stubborn?”

Remus bit his lip. “Well, I’d say give him time, but…” Three weeks was a long time to hear nothing. Even thinking about going that long without talking to Sirius made him want to shake the thought from his head.

“I know,” Leo’s voice came out frustrated, and he glanced up apologetically. “Sorry. Sorry, I don’t want to take any of this out on you.”

“It’s okay,” Remus said, skating closer. “Seriously, I won’t take anything personally. Especially not now. Especially when I think Finn just tried to take my head off with a shot.”

Leo’s expression seemed to get heavier. “He’s really not doing well. And I’m okay, but I…I get out three plates for dinner.”

Remus put his glove on Leo’s shoulder. “Aw, Leo…God, I’m so sorry.”

Leo just shook his head with a slight smile, blue eyes blinking away tears.

“I just wish…I do understand, I just…” He sniffed and jumped a little as Thomas called Remus over for face-off. “We’ll be okay.”

“I know you will,” Remus said. “But, like…it’s okay to hurt about it, you know? Or not understand. And…” Remus shrugged. “Maybe it’s okay to give Finn a piece of your mind.”

Leo actually laughed a little, then sniffed. “I think I’m getting there.”

Practice was a little brutal once Remus skated away. Finn nearly broke a stick as Leo blocked shot after shot of his, Sirius collected an even hat trick against Kasey, but it all finally came to a peak when Finn shook Remus up against the boards in a hard—and not entirely clean—hit.

“Fuckingwhoa,” Thomas called out, voice echoing in the empty stadium, just as Coach blew a shrill whistle that made all of them duck their heads.

“O’Hara!” Coach barked. “I see another hit like that in practice, I’m gonna sit you so hard next game you’ll put a hole in that bench!”

Remus rolled his shoulder out, glancing up at Finn’s stony expression. Finn didn’t reply, and didn’t so much as glance at Remus as he skated away—straight for the locker room, Remus realized. They still had fifteen minutes.

Remus heard the familiar sound of Sirius’ skating stop sharply next to him. His hair peaked out of his helmet in dark, sweat-slick strands and his eyes were wide, watching Finn retreat. “Loops. Merde, Re, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Remus said, putting a glove on his arm. “Just surprised me mostly.”

“Lupin?” Coach called out.

“I’m fine, Coach.”

“Yeah, he’s damn lucky you’re fine,” Thomas grumbled. “What the fuck. Season’s finished at this rate.”

“Don’t say that,” Remus began as Coach blew the whistle again.

“All right, I think we’ve all had enough for one morning. Hit the showers, boys. Be ready for video review later.”

Remus felt the tension thicken as the team skated off the ice. He looked up at Leo when he tapped his shin with his stick. His blue eyes looked almost mournful.

“Are you okay?” Leo asked. “I can’t believe…I don’t know why he…”

Remus made sure his smile looked real and not worried. “I’m okay. Really, I am.”

Leo didn’t look convinced, but he filed back down the tunnel with the rest of them in silence. That silence was only broken when they made it into the locker room to find Finn already half-undressed.

Before anyone could so much as mutter a word, Sirius had Finn by the straps of his chest padding, pushed up against the edge between his own and what was now Kota’s stall.

Remus had to bite his own tongue to keep from yelling Sirius’ name. He had to let him do this.

“You want to push your own team around?” Sirius all but growled. “That’s really what you want to do?”

Finn tried to shove Sirius away but he wouldn’t budge. Remus saw his eyes dart to Leo, but Leo had his eyes down, unstrapping his own padding. Remus guessed Leo thought Finn needed this, too. Kota looked a little wide-eyed, but kept his distance with the others.

“You’re just mad ‘cause it was Loops—” Finn shot back, and Sirius gave him another firm push.

“You know that’s not true,” Sirius said. “You’re taking stupid penalties in games, and you’re taking your problems out on everyone else like this whole situation isn’t effecting the rest of us, too. You’re not the only person in this room, and every person here fucking loves you. So stop acting like you’re alone. I’ve been there. It’s not true.”

And that was it. Sirius turned away to his own stall, placing his helmet down evenly and pulling his jersey over his head. Slowly, the others followed. Remus’ throat felt dry as he looked at Finn. His brown eyes were cast down and unfocused, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Remus began undressing slowly, too, but when Sirius headed towards change room, he jogged after him.

“Hey,” Remus said, catching him around the arm.

They were both sweaty, but when Sirius turned towards him and wrapped him up in his arms, Remus didn’t care. Maybe they both needed a moment away from it all, away from Kota, who was nice enough but a constant reminder of how heavy this season now felt without Logan. Away from Finn’s snapping remarks and Leo’s sad eyes. They needed a moment away from wondering how they were going to ever bring up their engagement. A moment away from feeling guilty about how damn happy they were.

“Was that too much?” Sirius asked, dropping a kiss to Remus’ head.

“No, he needed that,” Remus whispered. “All this just makes me think about…” He couldn’t even say the word trade. He was a player now, just like any other. Sirius wasn’t going anywhere but that didn’t protect him, nor should it.

“Non,” Sirius shushed him softly. “No, I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“It’s not up to you,” Remus pulled back to look at him.

“I’d go on strike.”

Remus let out a slight laugh. “No, you definitely wouldn’t.”

He felt Sirius smile against his temple. “Non, maybe not.” He wrapped Remus up tighter. “But we’d be okay.”

It was so close to what Leo had just said that Remus had to squeeze his eyes shut and let out a steadying breath through his nose. He looked up at Sirius, wanting a kiss. “I know we would be. But I’d want to call you every night, okay? Just so you know.”

Sirius leaned down, brushing their lips together. “I’d want to call you every hour.”

They jumped a little when Finn came around the corner and stopped dead, looking at them with wide eyes that quickly dulled. It was like he was making a bad habit of simply tucking the emotion away. He was fiddling with Logan’s necklace.

Remus felt Sirius pull away a little as guilt flooded him.

“Sorry,” Finn said, eyes down, and pushed around them to the showers.

“Merde,” Sirius breathed, looking after him.

“Tremz isn’t calling them,” Remus whispered. “At All Stars, you—baby, you got to get him to call them. I get not wanting to in the beginning, but I don’t think it’s helping anyone. Not anymore.”

Sirius frowned. “He’s not calling them? Why?” He nodded quickly when Remus just looked at him. “Okay, d’accord, you know what I meant. God…” Sirius pressed a soft kiss to Remus’ mouth. “Is that what brought this on?”

Remus bit his lip, then nodded.

“No wonder Finn’s so…God, maybe I was too harsh. I didn’t know that.” Sirius looked after the direction Finn had gone. Remus pressed his cheek to Sirius’ chest and felt him take a long, slow breath. “All right. Yeah, I’ll talk to him. I still think we can get him home.”

“Sirius, that’s not helpful for anyone right now,” Remus closed his eyes, holding him tighter. “Especially you.”

“But if I can convince—”

“You can’t,” Remus said. “Hey, listen to me, you can’t.” He pressed both of his palms to Sirius’ cheeks. “And, baby, you frankly shouldn’t be able to. You know those rumors flying around about you getting me this spot? Yeah, well, the Lions made a whole big thing about you not having any pull then, so they’re sure as hell not gonna give any to you right now.”

Sirius closed his eyes, which made him look sweet with his cheeks pressed between Remus’ palms. Remus had to lean up and kiss him again.

“I know,” Sirius whispered. “I just—he’s like my brother. But I know.”

“And maybe don’t fight with Finn again.”

“Then get him to stop tempting me.”

“I know,” Remus pressed up for another kiss. “Look, you’ll be at All Stars next week and all the guys will get a much needed break.”

Sirius’ fiery expression melted into a smile. “You’re coming with me to New York, you know that, right? I have plans.”

Remus wound his arms around Sirius’ neck. “Hmm, plans?”

Sirius smiled into their next kiss. “Plans.”

~

Leo watched Finn’s eyes dart to his phone every time the screen lit up. They had settled down on the couch to watch the All Stars opening red carpet. It all looked too bright, the commentator’s happy tones, the pump-up music. Leo had Finn tucked against his side—he’d finally stopped fidgeting, getting up and sitting back down again—but neither of them could deny that the couch felt empty. It had felt that way for three weeks.

The phone screen on the table lit up again, a news alert, and Finn’s body tensed as he leaned forward a little to check it.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think…” Leo began hesitantly, stroking Finn’s hair back from his face. They hadn’t talked about how practice had been going yet. They hadn’t talked about Sirius’ talk-down.

Finn just pressed himself harder into Leo’s side.

“You…you can’t be angry with him for not talking to us,” Leo whispered. “He’s—we all have to just…deal with this, and if that’s how he’s—”

“Yeah, I got it,” Finn said shortly, and pushed himself up from the couch. “I’m going for a run.”

“You shouldn’t,” Leo sighed, closing his eyes. “Baby, it’s dark—first of all—and second, we had a tough practice today and we have a game tomorrow.”

“Well, I’m going to,” Finn was already tugging his shirt over his head.

“No, Finn,” Leo said and stood. “No, you’re not. Tomorrow, fine, at morning skate, but no, not right now. You need to rest. Plus, the show’s about to start.”

“I don’t know if I want to watch him interviewed,” Finn mumbled as he disappeared into the bedroom.

Leo looked back at the TV. Truthfully, there was nothing Leo wanted more than to catch a glimpse of Logan walking down the red carpet, or suiting up in the All Stars locker room beside Sirius. Anything.He’d take anything, he missed Logan so bad it hurt.

“Finn,” he sighed, and pushed himself up from the couch. He’d expected to have to pry the running shoes out of Finn’s hands, but when he got to the bedroom, Finn was just sitting on the bed, elbows on his knees. The position made Logan’s fleur-de-lis swing lightly from his neck. Leo stared at it. Sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep and Finn was, as usual, soundly full under, he’d reach out and touch it where it rested against Finn’s chest, or, if he was on his side, against the mattress. It didn’t exactly put him to sleep, not with the lump it brought to his throat, but it helped all the same.

Leo took another step towards the bed. “Finn—”

“At All Stars, we could’ve—” Finn said suddenly standing back up. “What’s that all about? That’s not a fucking phone call that’s too hard to deal with.We’dbe there. We’d be there in the fuckinghotel room with him, all together, why doesn’t he—” Finn’s voice broke and his bare shoulders seemed to curl down a little. He pressed his hands over his face and Leo pushed forward, putting his hands on Finn’s waist, trying to steady him. Finn was shaking his head, brow pinched. “Why doesn’t he want us there, I…I don’t…”

“You know that’s not true,” Leo said. His voice wavered and he fought to control it. “You know he wants us there, it’s just—put yourself in his shoes. It would be torture. Finn, it would be torture, for me at least, to know that you two were together and I wasn’t there. God, I hate it, too, but I get it. It’s horrible but I getit.”

“I’d want a week with you!” Finn said. “And not to mention your fucking birthday like—at least then he should—I would’ve fucking—”

“Well, Logan’s not you,” Leo said, more firmly than he’d meant to, but, God, Finn was so sad, so angry, all the time. It was getting to Leo, too. His birthday. Leo crossed his arms over his chest and took a step back. “You’re the only one here who’s had to leave the others before and I…” Leo pressed his lips together, sniffing. He closed his eyes and took a breath. “Look, you don’t have to watch, but I really want to see him, so…join me, don’t join me. Whichever.”

And he turned back towards the living room.

It only took a few minutes for Finn to walk back into the living room and stand uncertainly by the couch until Leo lifted the blanket for him. He let out what sounded like a relieved sigh and tucked Leo into his side this time, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.

“I love you,” Finn whispered. “God, Le, I love you. I know I’ve been…”

Leo rubbed a hand over Finn’s chest, his soft t-shirt and the bump of the pendant, but didn’t take his eyes away from where they were showing Logan and Sirius, standing beside each other on the red carpet. They weren’t smiling exactly, but their shoulders were close. Leo swallowed. He would have given anything for the three of them to be sitting on this couch right now.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, and tilted his head to rest against Finn’s shoulder just as the camera zoomed in close to Logan.

“He looks—” Finn said quietly, voice breaking off. “Oh, Lo…”

They both leaned forward. Logan’s cheeks looked a little sunken. He had darkness beneath his eyes. He had his hands deep in his pockets and his brown waves of hair were free and tussled. His green eyes darted around, like they couldn’t settle. Leo pressed a hand to his chest. He’d never seen Logan look like that. Almost frail, the pink of his cheeks tender. Had he been working himself too hard? Had he been sleeping?

“No,” Finn whispered, and pushed up again, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “No, I can’t watch this.”

Leo faintly heard their bedroom door close, but he felt frozen there on the couch, knowing Logan couldn’t see him but somehow silently begging him to look at him, to know he was there.

~

They hadn’t said anything at first. Logan had requested they wait to see each other, really see each other, until the first day’s opening events were done, and, really, Sirius didn’t want cameras around, either. One moment Sirius had been standing in Logan’s hotel room doorway and the next they were hugging. It was such a relief, when Logan started speaking French. Sirius was so choked up right now he wasn’t sure he felt like managing English. It felt like it had hugging Regulus again. He didn’t want to lose another brother.

“Tremz,” Sirius whispered. “Merde…”

“I can’t believe this,” Logan breathed as they pulled away. His dark green suit looked brighter against the ugly red carpet of the hallway. “God, Cap—I mean…”

“Don’t you dare stop calling me that,” Sirius said. “Fuck, nothing’s the same without you. I can’t tell you how hard it’s been.”

“Come in,” Logan all but pulled him in and shut the door. He thought of Remus a few doors down. He’d almost asked him to come, but something in Sirius was thinking of last year’s All Stars and how it had been Logan to talk some sense into him. He wanted it to be just the two of them for now.

“Tell me,” Logan said, and Sirius’ heart hurt at the strained note of pleading in his voice. “Please. I just—just tell me.”

“It’s…” Sirius began haltingly. How in hell was he supposed to tell him about Finn? “Well, Leo is… But Finn…” Sirius didn’t know how to say it. “Finn’s not doing so well right now.”

Logan’s green eyes were big and almost terrified. “And—Leo?”

“Hides it better, but I keep find him just staring at your stall. I can’t imagine…I mean, when he’s at your home…”

“And Kota?”

Sirius tilted his head, grimacing a little. “Kota seems nice enough. But Finn’s being a real ass, I’m not going to lie.”

Logan blinked and Sirius almost felt bad for bringing it up, but part of him knew Remus was right. Logan needed to know. “To Leo even?”

“To everyone.”

“He’s upset with me. Him more than Leo, I think,” Logan bit his lip, ran his hand through his hair. “I told them not to come this week.”

“Ouais…I know about that.” Sirius nodded. “Why—”

“Are they angry?”

Sirius hesitated before answering. “Well, I think you have to do what’s best for you right now.”

“That’s not an answer,” Logan sighed. “Cap, I…I just…” Logan shook his head, eyes on the floor. “I just started, like, being hungry even. Sleeping through the night. Seeing them, spending a week with them…I don’t think it would be…good. Not now. Merde, I love them, but I don’t want to lose my appetite when I’m not with them.”

Sirius sat down slowly on the bed, rubbing his palms together. “I understand. Really, Tremz, I get it.”

“Then what?” Logan sighed.

Sirius shook his head. “Nothing, I just…”

“Non, I know that look, you’re not saying something.”

Sirius couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Well, first, I’m proud of you. I can’t imagine how hard this has been. Oh, and don’t let me forget I have some cookies from Celeste for you. Apparently Katie packed her backpack, said she was coming with me to see you.”

“Oh,” Logan just offered a shaky smile. “Katie…”

It was the same smile Logan had been giving on the carpet all day, to the cameras and fans. Today had been an exhausting one, but Sirius knew that he’d be feeling a whole lot worse right now if Remus hadn’t been by his side through it, holding his hand.

“Second,” Sirius said. “How the hell are you playing so well while feeling like all that?”

Logan blew out a breath and sat down, too. “I can either get Coach Gallant to give me more minutes or sit on the bench and feel sorry for myself. And…” Logan sighed, voice smaller. “Who knows, you know? It’s a one year contract and if they want me for a playoff run and I help get it for them…maybe I’ll have a little more say next time.”

Sirius winced. “That’s a pretty big gamble. But that’s also what Finn said.”

“Really?” Logan asked. “Oh.”

“He’s really not doing well,” Sirius said again. “I…”

Logan waved him on. “Just tell me, Cap.”

Sirius huffed out a laugh. “I’m that obvious?”

“Always have been,” Logan shrugged. “Well. Not always, I guess.”

Sirius took another breath. “I know you aren’t calling them.”

Logan shrunk into himself a bit then, and Sirius felt guilty but not enough to back down. Logan looked away.

He had lost a little weight, Sirius had noticed on the carpet. Not enough to be very noticeable, but Sirius had spent hours and hours with Logan. His cheeks looked a little sharper. His lips were chapped, eyes tired.

“Cap…” Logan shook his head.

Sirius put a hand on Logan’s knee. “Tremz, I know how it was with you and Finn. I’ll never feel what you two felt, I know that, and it must have been so, so horrible, but have you…have you thought about how this doesn’t have to be all or nothing in the way that Harvard was?”

Sirius felt Logan hold himself very still. Sirius was being truthful when he said that he couldn’t imagine what Finn and Logan must have gone through. He’d only truly fallen for Remus when they’d started seeing each other. To feel the way he did about Remus for years and not be able to do anything…he couldn’t begin to imagine.

“Is Loops with you?” Logan asked.

Sirius sighed a little at the topic change but nodded. “Yeah. We thought we’d make a trip of it. Together.”

Logan shot him a look. “Did you kick him out of this talk?”

Sirius laughed. “A little, yeah.”

Sirius paused. He thought of the ring that sat prettily on Remus’ finger. They’d been so dead-set on not rubbing the news into the Cubs’ faces, but maybe…maybe it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it would help. For Sirius, marrying Remus was the ultimate sign that life, hard and brutal sometimes, worked out.

“Tremz,” Sirius began, and ran a hand through his hair. He wished now that he’d taken the time to change out of his suit. It felt too hot and tight. Logan looked back at him expectantly. He really did look so tired. It made Sirius want to tuck him into his side. God, he hoped this was the right thing to say right now.

“I finally did it,” he said, and Logan tilted his head for a moment before his eyes widened. “I asked Remus to marry me.”

“You did?” Logan said breathlessly. “You finally—the ring?”

Sirius laughed. “I completely forgot about the ring actually.”

Logan laughed, too, reached out and gripped Sirius’ hand, then he blinked and a tear fell. He curled into himself a little. He touched his own wet cheek. “Oh, sorry, I—Oh.”

Sirius felt himself tearing up to. “Don’t you cry, I’llcry.”

Logan nodded, and then he didn’t seem to be able to speak. He buried his face in his hands. His next breath was a sob.

“Hey,” Sirius said softly. “Tremz, hey…” He squeezed Logan’s hands. “No, I…I’m sorry, I thought it might help to see that things do work out and—”

“Non, I’m so happy for you—I’m sorry—”

Sirius didn’t know what to do but sit there and let Logan squeeze his hands so hard that it hurt a little.

“We were going to come out,” Logan’s words were all tangled up with tears. “We decided—maybe an hour before I got the call.”

“You were—” Sirius felt his heart lurch. A moment later Logan was sort of listing to one side and Sirius pulled him in against his chest. “Oh my god. Oh God, Logan…”

“I wanted to,” Logan cried, clutching at Sirius’ suit jacket. “I finally wanted to and then…”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said through tears in his throat. He felt Logan’s seeping through the thin cotton of his shirt. “That’s not going to be the last time you want to. Don’t worry about that, Lo, don’t worry.”

“I miss them so bad,” Logan said. “I miss them.”

“Call them,” Sirius said, and realized he was pushing his fingers through Logan’s hair, the way he did with Remus. It felt right with the way Logan leaned into it. “Logan. You know them. I know it’s hard, but you know them. They love you so fucking much. Do you really think seeing their faces, hearing their voices, will be harder than this?”

“I don’t know,” Logan said. “Saying goodbye was so horrible, I…”

“That’s because you’re acting like you’re never going to see them again. It’s a three hour drive or something. You can do that in a day off. It’s not the best, but you can. You can.”

Logan let out a breath and sat up. He wiped at his eyes, dark eyelashes clumped together with tears, and looked at Sirius. “Ouais…” He wiped at more fresh tears. “Ugh. I’ve never cried so much in my life.”

Sirius ruffled Logan’s hair again and then let them sit for a few minutes. He reached up and loosened his own tie, then did the same for Logan, who sent him a grateful look.

“Sorry about your shirt.”

“I could care less about this shirt,” Sirius said, and looked at Logan’s bare throat. “Gave Finn your necklace.”

Logan just nodded and touched where the missing piece would have hung. He sat up a little straighter, scrunching his nose a little, blocked up. “Is Loops just waiting for you?”

“He can entertain himself,” Sirius laughed, and put a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “You’re really important to us, Tremz.”

Logan cracked a smile. “Does he want to watch a movie with us?”

“Absolutely.”

Logan’s smile reached his eyes this time, which he gave another firm rub. “All right. I’m going to get out of this suit.”

“Ouais, me too.” Sirius had one hand on the door when Logan’s phone lit up. Finn, Sirius could see. A picture that looked like it was from Harvard. Finn looked much more like Alex now.

“Want me to give you a bit?” he asked carefully.

When Logan didn’t reply right away, Sirius shut the door again. They watched the phone ring out together.

“D’accord,” Sirius sighed. “Meet up in ten?”

Logan was quiet for a long moment. Sirius watched his eyes dart to the clock, then away. Finally, he straightened. “Non. You two go enjoy yourselves. I have something I need to do.”

Sirius’ chest flooded with relief. “Okay.” He slapped Logan’s shoulder. “Good.”

~

Finn couldn’t help himself anymore. Leo was in the shower, water loud, and Finn pressed his phone harder against his ear.

“Hi,” he whispered to Logan’s voicemail. He’d not yet left a message. He couldn’t help it. Maybe it was seeing him, and not just on Youtube in a press interview (which he and Leo had been watching maybe too many of), but seeing a live feed of Logan walking and talking to other people. How tired he’d looked, how lonely. “Lo, I…I know you said you couldn’t—“

Finn had to stop for a moment, get his breathing under control. He didn’t want to cry. He was so tired of crying, of feeling this way.

“But I need…I can deal with you being in New York. I—I can do that, I really can, but I can’t do this again. I can’t do the silence again, please, please, please…”

His breathing hitched and he covered his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I said I wouldn’t do this, but please call us. It’s just—so hard like this, Lo, it’s so hard—”

His nose was running horribly. Leo would know immediately he’d been crying but Finn wanted nothing more than to sink into Leo’s arms after this.

He let out a long breath. “God, I’m sorry. I love you. Fuck, don’t listen to this, okay—”

He hung up and tossed the phone onto the bed, resting his head back against the pillows. He shouldn’t have done that. Logan had asked him not to do that, not to do any of what he’d been doing. But when he’d left Harvard, Finn hadn’t said a thing after that single, horrible phone call and it had been hell. How much deeper could they sink? Apparently some ways.

He listened to Leo humming softly to himself for a moment before pushing himself up from the bed and cracking the door to the steamed up bathroom.

Le? Can I come in?” Finn asked over the steam, and he saw Leo’s silhouette freeze at the sound of his blocked up nose.

“Oh, sweetheart, of course,” Leo said. “C’mere.”

The second Finn was undressed and stepping onto the wet tile he was taking Leo into his arms.

“I called him, I’m sorry…”

“Finn—” Leo began, holding him tight. “No, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

It felt good, just to breathe each other in, skin on skin. Finn ran his hands up and down Leo’s back, just as Leo did the same for him. He took a deep breath, gathering himself, and leaned back to look at Leo. He pushed his blond hair away from his eyes.

“I’m such an asshole—”

Leo shushed him gently, pressing three gentle fingers over his mouth.

“I just want to hold you, okay?” Leo said. “And I want you to hold me.”

Finn loved him. Finn loved him so much. He nodded, and let Leo tuck his face back into his neck, pressing him close beneath the shower’s warm spray.

~

Sirius shut the door to his and Remus’ room in New York and sat down heavily on the bed. He brought Remus’ hand up to his mouth and kissed where he had replaced his engagement ring. Sirius didn’t like it, but it probably was for the best that he’d taken it off for the red carpets. At least for now, until they told the team officially.

“I think he’s going to call them,” he said, and Remus’ shoulders visibly loosened.

“Yes. Good Logan.”

“Yeah,” Sirius wrapped an arm around Remus’ waist. “Re, they were going to come out.”

Remus’ eyes widened and he dropped his forehead to Sirius’ shoulder. “Oh my god. Aw, Leo…I knew there was something else he wasn’t saying. Oh my god, I can’t even imagine…and when Logan was asking me about it…”

Neither of them found more words, just sat on the cool hotel sheets. Remus started twisting his ring around his finger at one point and Sirius watched the flash of the diamond as it came round and round again.

“Okay,” Sirius said, and pressed a kiss to Remus’ temple. “I love Logan, I miss him, but right nowI’ve had a camera in my face all day and we deserve to celebrate,” Sirius tugged Remus closer. “I’m going to start us on our Pre-Wedding Honeymoon New York City Itinerary.”

Sirius took delight in nothing more than the smile that slowly broke over Remus’ face.

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” Sirius said, and pressed a gentle kiss to Remus’ mouth. “Get your coat.”

“Mycoat?” Remus laughed. “It’s like eleven at night!”

“What, there’s no where to go at night? Come on, allez.” He pulled Remus up and right into another kiss. “I’ve been thinking so much about Tremz, of course I have, but…” Sirius sighed. “All I want to think about is you.” He let his next kiss linger. “You and you and you.”

“Hmm,” Remus’ smiled. “Where are we going?”

Sirius pressed the words into his mouth along with kisses. He tucked Remus up against his body and turned them in a slow circle. “Dancing.”

Remus’ laugh was light. “Sirius Black is taking me dancing?”

“He is,” Sirius smiled into another kiss. “And he can’t wait.”

If Sirius had learned anything from his life so far, it was to seize the mome

A university student enters an antique shop in a panic. How do you buy a wedding gift for a cousin you hate? 

Sirius wouldn’t have looked twice at the dusty shop if he wasn’t stupidly, desperately late. The high street itself was laughing at him and he was uncomfortably aware of the scrubby guy on the bench that had definitely seen him walk past the same shop window three times in a desperate attempt to see anything other than tea towels and obnoxiously cheerful decorated mugs with ‘World’s best dad’ printed on the sides in Comic Sans. His fingers were slippery in anxious sweat as he pressed the home button on his phone, his iPhone six, another reason his presence would be scorned at this godforsaken gathering. The smudgy screen blinked into life and displayed, seemingly smugly after Sirius’ growing resentment towards the device, 12:42.

Twenty fucking minutes. If he didn’t show up with a gift he might as well not show up at all, an option he would have embraced wholeheartedly if his mother hadn’t pincered him into a corner at their last, regularly depressing routine coffee catch up and told him the deeds to his inheritance were under considerable threat if he did not attend. He wouldn’t have minded, but being twenty grand in debt to an English degree in a rented apartment with black mould creeping onto the ceiling made him reconsider his options.

Fucking Narcissa.

He wouldn’t have been looking forward to the wedding even if she wasn’t marrying a right wing, Eton-educated, ‘can’t control these blasted immigrants’ CEO of whateverthefuck that looked as though he’d never even touched an item of clothing that didn’t come from Armani. It was so typical of his cousin to find a man who deferred so minimally from their shared families’ frankly alarmingly consistent Tory heritage that Sirius had had to do some extensive Googling to confirm that Lucius Malfoy was not in fact, a not-so-distant relative.

A text buzzed in his hand, the little green notification welcome on the screen. At least it was an excuse to loiter outside this shop window for another minute or so without looking like a genuine psychopath.

‘Just get her a toaster or something idk.’

Sirius hadn’t really expected James’ solution to his predicament to be helpful, but his flatmate’s response nevertheless sent the hopeless feeling in his stomach a few inches lower. He had never expected for his future to be balanced on the purchase of a wedding gift, but he would almost prefer to sit his first-year exams, which he had taken with a hangover so severe it felt like he was going to vomit out of his eyeballs, all over again than have to look at this shop window for a second longer. He pictured sitting in a gutter in London, like the tramps that his mother refused to make eye contact with during their trips out during his childhood, drinking from a bottle wrapped in brown paper and thinking; if only I had gone with the luxury jam set. He had discarded the idea after noticing the Tesco’s Finest logo above the barcode, but it was beginning to look like his best option.

Another text. No, a call. Sirius shoved the phone back into his hoodie he was using to mask the aristocratic wedding attire beneath. Keepers of pretentious little shops such as the ones lining this dusty high street tended to bump their prices through the roof if they saw someone of his blood walk in. Old blood. Old money. It was unfair, really, because Sirius didn’t actually have any. If he did, he probably wouldn’t mind paying the exorbitant prices; James spent half his life agonising over how independent businesses were being suffocated by Amazon. But Sirius had nothing to his name until his dear grandparents decided to snuff it. The phone ceased buzzing waspishly in his pocket, and he decided he had better check who he was ignoring. 

Typical fucking Regulus. 

Probably the only human being under twenty that actually went out of his way to call people, rather than text. He would be there already, exchanging pleasantries in the foyer of the Malfoy’s third manor home. Checking to see whether the Black family disappointment was showing his face, or if he’d have to rely on his six predicted A* grades and brand new Porsche that probably cost more to insure than it did to buy to present himself as the golden child. He’d probably have a stupid little flower in his stupid little button hole. Being a cousin of the bride and a groomsman of the groom, Regulus had firmly nestled himself already into this hideous conjunction of families. He had a job lined up for him in Malfoy’s London branch. In six months, he’d probably have his own office.

Sirius had diluted his shampoo with water for the second time this morning.

He scowled and kicked a bottle cap along the pavement as he stumped, once again, down the row of shops. The circular metal projectile skittered across the tarmac and bounced off a door frame. He stopped, staring suddenly at the sign swinging on a pair of metal hooks like it was a medieval fucking tavern.

Fletcher’s Quality Gifts and Trinkets.

Somehow, inexplicably, Sirius’ eyes had slid over this shop four times as he’d panicked his way up and down this stretch of pavement. There was no window display, that was why. The door fit seamlessly between Bobbin’s Haberdashery and a derelict Cafe Nero. Sirius felt his phone buzz again and suppressed the urge to throw it into the path of the lazy, midday traffic crawling its way up the high street. He stared at the chipped paint and begged silently, to whatever entities may have been listening, that he would find something, anything to take to this fucking wedding.

The door jammed awkwardly on the floor as Sirius pushed it open. It made a juddering, dry squeak, scuffing on the splintery wood. Sirius winced, and half thought about just turning tail and walking out again, going back to pick up that cheap-as-shit jam set. Narcissa probably didn’t even eat jam. Was jam vegan?

He had to push his way in sideways, and as he did so, the door unstuck, swinging open and leaving him standing, pointlessly squashed back against the door frame. Sirius closed his eyes and wondered whether anything was going to go right today.

When he opened them, a guy was blinking at him from behind a checkout desk. A book was open on the surface before him and his long legs with too short trousers that showed a few inches of garishly coloured socks were rested upon the desk next to the till. He removed them hastily to the floor as Sirius stared.

“Sorry, the door- It gets stuck- you have to like-“ He mimed something that Sirius couldn’t even begin to relate to unsticking a door. “Sorry,” he finished, lamely. He bent over his book. Sirius peeled himself from the frame, not taking in the low beams that he would probably hit his head on or the items grouped together in nonsensical piles on the shelves and stacked on the floor.

This guy was gorgeous. He had an odd collection of features that were nothing special, when you looked at them individually- a nose that listed to the left, a thin top lip, a smattering of pigmentation on his cheeks that suggested acne that had been grown out of- but together… Sirius couldn’t stop staring at him. That tawny hair- fucking tawny, who am I, William pissing Wordsworth?- That sharp chin, those long fingers that teased the edge of the paper as he finished reading his page.

He was absolutely, fundamentally, not Sirius’ type. Any romantic entanglements he had had- and granted, it was not a long list (he and James had one sellotaped to the fridge)- involved men so deep in the closet they were practically choking on mothballs. They were footballers, mostly, insecure, ‘just experimenting’. Sirius didn’t know why his gaydar was sounding off so strongly. Was it the deeply uncool granddad jumper that somehow looked like it belonged in Men’s Vogue when draped over his long torso? Sirius was hardly modest about his own looks, but if he tried that jumper on he would look like the kid that forgot his P.E. kit. The same went for the not-skinny, not-baggy jeans that looked as though they were made for literally anyone other than him but somehow, looked really cool and why did Sirius love those hideous socks so much? Did they have pineapples on them? 

The guy, seemingly unaware of Sirius lurking behind the shelf closest to the door, propped the book up in his hands, and Sirius read the title- The Picture of Dorian Grey.

Well, there it is.

“IneedapresentforacousinIhatewho’smarryingaguythathasprobablynevereatenaMcDonald’schickennugget.” Sirius was hardly more aware of the words projectile vomiting from his mouth than he was of the way he was sidling towards the checkout desk with his hands wringing in front of him like he was expecting this guy to stand up and shout at him.

Brown eyes emerged from behind the finest work of Oscar Wilde, carrying a look of mild alarm.

“Because, he’s rich, not a vegetarian.” Sirius finished. His mouth seemed a long way behind his brain, but perhaps that was a good thing, because his brain was currently screaming FUCK ME and Sirius was not willing to be barred from any more establishments for hedonistic behaviour.

“A wedding present?” His voice was mild, like Sirius had just asked a perfectly normal question for a stranger to ask a shop employee.

“Uh, yeah.” Why was he blushing? He never blushed. He stepped back needlessly as the guy rose from behind the desk. He was tall. Proportionately tall, with long limbs and a long neck and long god knows what else. Sirius nearly fell to his knees in reverence when the guy cracked a smile that caused a dimple to poke in his cheek and exposed sharp canines that Sirius never considered worth noticing in anyone before but holy fuck he would be now.

“You know what, I think I’ve got something.” He was walking away down one of the dark-ish isles, stooping considerably to avoid the beams and Sirius was trailing after him, awkward and out of place and acting so drastically not like himself he wondered if he had sustained a concussion at some point. Maybe when he was forcing his way through that rude fucking door. The hair at the nape of this guy’s neck curled slightly like he was due a haircut. His trainers were really beat up and old, and Sirius was sure he could see one of the laces fraying and considered whether he should warn him he was about to trip.

“When is this wedding?” His voice was still mild and almost disconcertingly polite; he had stopped and was rummaging among a pile of objects on a shelf-seriously, how was anyone supposed to find anything in here?- and Sirius was still staring at his trailing shoelace.

“Well, sort of now.”

He stood up a bit straighter as the brown eyes widened, and he was looking at him, properly, for the first time and Jesus Christ, how were you supposed to stand normally? Where were your arms supposed to go? Eyebrows, light brown and shapeless and a bit sparse at the ends, furrowed and he let out a small huff of amusement. It was the politest expression of ‘this dude’s a complete disaster’ that Sirius had ever seen. “I’ve been putting it off,” he added needlessly. Something about the way this guy was now looking him up and down as if he could read his life story just from Sirius’ tailored trousers that he’d forgotten to get dry cleaned and his hoodie that was actually James’ and his shoes that looked expensive but were actually from TKMaxx was making him need to offer increasingly poor explanations for his shambles of a life. “I don’t want to go, but I have to, and I hate weddings anyway, but especially this one, and I-‘

The look of curious amusement on the guy’s face- god, Sirius really wanted to know his name- halted his rambling. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I’m not normally this stressed.”

“That’s okay,” he replied, as if it was his job to tolerate a load of garbled nonsense from strangers, like he did it regularly, in fact, which made him wonder what kind of people actually came into this shop that you could barely tell existed. He was still rummaging through the shelves, Sirius was pretty sure a couple of things had fallen off the back and were now in the dark recesses of the between-shelf-and-wall space where things went to die. God, did anyone ever actually buy anything in here? He found it easier to control himself when the guy stopped x-raying him with his eyes, so he said “er, how long’s this shop been here?”

“Oh, I’ve only worked here six weeks. No idea, ages, probably.” He picked up a remarkably creepy porcelain figure of a shepherdess that was covered with so much dust that at first glance, Sirius thought it was some kind of radioactively-deformed elephant.

“I see what you mean,” said Sirius, staring at the figurine reproachfully. “How does anyone find anything in here?” The questions were not what he actually wanted to ask, which involved something along the lines of are you gay-are you single-are you safe from asbestos in this shop and do you think I’m a complete weirdo. He perked up when the guy let out another polite huff of laughter.

“Most customers have been coming in here for years,” he said, “I don’t see a lot of new people.” His eyes flickered to Sirius and back again and Sirius felt as if he was preparing to dive from a very large boat into a sea that was very cold.

“What’s your name?” Sirius asked, louder than he had meant to. He cringed inwardly and for the second time, considered legging it out of the door when he was once again regarded by a pair of searching brown eyes.

“Remus,” he said. Sirius could tell he was waiting for him to laugh. When he didn’t, because how the fuck could this man get any more attractive, and somehow the name Remus suited him down to his shredded laces, he turned to face him, as if in defiance.

“Hilarious, I know. Remus Lupin, which makes it even better.” Sirius’ resolve cracked at this.

“What?” He squawked, dragging his eyes over Remus again, because he looked like any novelist’s wet dream and his name was Remus fucking Lupin… “Mine’s worse.” Sirius said, straightening again. Remus Lupin was rolling his eyes as if in grim acceptance of the barrage of snide jibes that had yet to tumble from Sirius’ mouth, but his eyebrows had disappeared into his hair at Sirius’ response and his arms were folded across his chest, which pulled the loose neck of his jumper down and exposed a few inches of pale sternum.

“I don’t believe you.”

Sirius grinned at this. He cleared his throat and pulled his hand out of the pouch/pocket/thing on the front of his hoodie which was definitely not a secure place for his phone, wallet and keys, and held it out.

“Sirius Black. Pleasure to meet you.” Remus’ mouth had fallen slightly open and a smile was touching at the corners of his lips as he took Sirius’ hand. Sirius was almost surprised that there was no jolt of electricity from all the built up static in his woollen jumper, but his skin was cool and his fingers were thin and twiggy and the knuckles were surprisingly big, and he didn’t drop it straight away, which made Sirius wonder if it was intentional, like a sort of gay signal, and then he remembered the Oscar Wilde book on the checkout desk and stopped trying to look for gay signals.

“Holy shit,” Remus spluttered. The profanity rolled masterfully from his lips; Sirius had never quite got the hang of swearing after his stuffy, conservative upbringing. Remus made it sound graceful.

“What a pair, eh?” said Sirius, and then cringed inwardly again because they weren’t a pair, they were complete strangers but somehow it felt like they’d known each other forever and fuck when did it get so hot in here? He looked at the shelves where Remus’ other hand still rested, and tried to ignore the eyes that were sliding up and down his body as Remus Lupin gave him what Sirius recognised as ‘the gay once-over.’ Dressed in the odd assortment of James’ secondary school football hoodie that had been surpassed by the frankly unnatural growth of James’ shoulders, pretentious shoes and crinkled dress trousers, Sirius was acutely aware that he was not looking his whole and considerable best. Christ, he might even look straight.

“There’s um-you said you might have something?” Sirius said, after another twenty five seconds in which Remus’ gaze had lingered on the rings Sirius had forgotten to take off (his mum would kill him if he turned up to a wedding looking like anything other than a Conservative Straight Man) and then drifted to his hair which was probably fried from all the sweating and running about and cheap shampoo. Remus blinked at these words, and whipped his head back to the shelves as if startled he had been caught in the act.

“Yes! Sorry, it’s-erm-can you hold this?” He plonked a cast iron sewing machine into Sirius’ arms who sagged beneath the weight, wheezing as he tried to lock his knees without Remus noticing. What the hell kind of Hulk body was hiding under that jumper? Eyes streaming, he balanced it on top of a pile of ancient National Geographic magazines and prayed it would not succumb to the inevitable force of gravity. Remus was deep into the recesses of the shelf, standing on tiptoe to reach the very back. His socks were visible again and Sirius could see now that they were not pineapples, but durians. Cute. His jumper was riding up as he stretched to whatever unknown artefacts lurked at the very rear and now it was Sirius’ turn to stare, because there was some pale midriff exposed above the waist of his jeans and he was skinny, but not skinny, kind of-lean? Was that the word? He had that vee of muscle above his hip and Sirius was suddenly struggling not to choke on his own tongue.

“Here it is!”, came Remus’ muffled voice, and Sirius took a step back hurriedly. He was pretty certain he had been gazing glassy eyed at the shop-keeper’s navel where a delicate line of dark brown hair descended below his belt, and pinched his own wrist hard behind his back as Remus’ head emerged, and he shook some cobwebs out of his curly hair. He was holding a small box, and Sirius’ first thought was that if something covered in that much dust came within eight feet of Narcissa, her immune system would likely spontaneously combust due to overexposure. People like her didn’thave immune systems, they just loaded themselves up with fucking multivitamins and avoided any establishments without at least two Michelin stars. 

“Sorry it’s a bit-“ Remus blew a cloud of dust off the top of the box, coughed, and wiped it off on the back of his jeans, muttering ‘need to stop smoking.’ 

Sirius almost went feral at the image of his lips pursed around a Marlboro, but managed to pull his face into a socially acceptable frame in time for Remus to pass the box to him. “What do you think?” 

Squatting in a bed of midnight blue velvet, sat a pair of silver napkin rings. They were ornate, and completely hideous. Sirius started to grin. He picked one up to examine it. It was decorated with a stag, and the other with a doe. It was likely the engraver had never seen these animals in the flesh, which would account for their mildly horrifying humanoid faces. 

“Perfect,” muttered Sirius, turning the ugly silver object over in his hand. It was heavy and looked antique, and Sirius knew it would fit right in with the future Mrs. Malfoy’s entirely tasteless kitchen decor. He looked up at Remus, disbelieving in the way he had absolutely nailed Sirius’ mission. “Absolutely bloody perfect.” 

Remus grinned back, a wondrous sight, his hands half in the pockets of his faded jeans. Sirius returned the napkin ring to its box, and then thought of something that made his smile falter. 

“Are these solid silver?” 

“Yep,” Remus said happily. “Nineteenth century antiques, I believe.” But Sirius was pushing the box back into his hands, shaking his head. 

“I can’t afford that, sorry I-“ 

“Five quid.” The box flew back into Sirius’ hands before he could blink. 

“Come again?”

The shopkeeper shrugged. “I’m the only person who knew they were there, and I doubt anyone else would want to bestow something that vile on a newly wedded couple.” 

Was this guy even real? Sirius couldn’t quite fathom what he had done to deserve this act of kindness, but he wasn’t about to turn it down. 

“Thank you,” he said, earnestly. Remus shrugged again, but the smile remained. He took Sirius back to the counter, where he took the box back from him and, while Sirius dug in his pocket for some change, produced some silvery wrapping paper and parcelled it. Sirius stole a surreptitious glance at him as he tied it off with a navy ribbon. His eyelashes were sandy like his eyebrows, but they were thick and almost touched his cheeks when his eyes were cast down on his work. 

Sirius was having a crisis. He had never asked for anyone’s number before, but the thought of walking out of this shop and never seeing this god-sent individual again was criminal. His mouth felt dry. What if he had misread this interaction completely, and Remus was just a friendly, helpful guy? He glanced at the book, now balanced on top of the till while Remus rang up, and took a breath. 

“Good book, that” he said, indicating The Picture of Dorian Grey awkwardly. Remus looked from him, to the book, and back again. While Sirius experienced a burning sensation in the base of his chest, Remus nodded non commitantly, and swept the stack of pound coins Sirius had placed on the desk into the till. He looked away, agonising, kicking himself internally at his own ineptness, as he pulled a receipt from the till and passed it and the neatly-wrapped box across the table. 

“All done.” 

“Thanks.” Sirius could feel his cheeks burning, and decided a clean getaway was well overdue. He had picked up the items and had half turned away when he heard- “I wrote my number on that receipt, you know.” 

The burning in his chest now felt like a slowly inflating balloon. He looked down at the smooth piece of paper and saw a number scribbled in biro on its surface. Eleven numbers. Definitely a phone number. He turned hastily back to Remus, who was- Sirius was pleased to see- also looking slightly bashful. 

“Thought my gaydar had malfunctioned for a minute there,” Sirius said. Remus laughed. 

“It was really great to meet you.” He said, placing his feet up on the desk again. 

“And you,” Sirius replied. Elated, he headed for the door before Remus could change his mind. He dreaded to think how late he was now, but he couldn’t think of a situation more worth a bollocking from his mother than this one. He had yanked the reluctant door open when- 

“Hey, Sirius?” 

“Yeah?” He looked over his shoulder. Remus was peering over the top of his book at him again. 

“Let me know how the wedding goes.”