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Sirius Black Faces the Woes of a High School Crush (part 3)

Part 2:

https://www.tumblr.com/prosepoetryanddrama/753691551217090560/sirius-black-faces-the-woes-of-a-high-school-crush?source=share

___

“What the actual fuck?” Were the first words out of Sirius’s mouth as he stared at the scene in front of him.

On the floor of the dreaded closet sat, as expected, a panicked Remus with a torn banner, but also a gruesome demonic entity, by the name of Benjy. Fucking. Fenwick.

The roach had his grimy hand against Remus’s shoulder, with a sympathetic frown on his face, and Sirius wanted to break his fingers.

Remus looked up at the sound of his voice and stared blankly at him, although Sirius noted a slight blush spread across his, already rosy, cheeks. “Oh, it’s you, Black”

“Uh, appears so.” Sirius spoke. ever so eloquently.

“What are you doing here?” Benjy interrupted.

“Just taking a stroll, Fenwick,” Sirius said, inserting as much casualness into his voice as he could.

“A stroll? To the closet? At the opposite end of the entrance?” Benjy responded.

Sirius huffed, choosing to simply ignore his inferior presence.

”What happened here?” Sirius asked, directing his question to Remus, attempting to get back on script.

Remus looked at him, “We’re fucked,” he said simply.

___

That was how he found himself spending his afternoon, helping Benjy fucking Fenwick fix a useless banner, like a loser. Though, Remus’s soft, warm hands pressed into Sirius’s fingers when he passed him glue and other such things, as they sat on the floor, that fucking banner spread out in front of them, did help ease the frustration.

His frustration did not stay at bay long though, rearing it’s ugly head every time that Fenwick breathed in his, or Remus’s direction.

They did in fact go to the glossy, modern cafe across the street, and Sirius had almost trampled over Benjy to pay for Remus.

Remus, forever stubborn, had looked up at him with a frown, “Black, no. I can pay for myself.”

Sirius, of course, had ignored him.

It was actually quite pleasant, regardless of the roach. To sit in the high-back leather chair across from Remus, with Remus leaning in closer to hear Sirius’s ramblings. He had at least improved in that aspect. The few, although stilted, interactions he had with Remus, had finally gotten Sirius to smooth himself out in his presence.

They had chatted about, of course, the damn banner, with Benjy pitching in like an annoying squirrel every five seconds, but they had indeed chatted.

Sirius figured that he should just take the win. How the mighty have fallen.

Every time that Sirius attempted to steer the conversation with Remus into non-banner related, Benjy was quick to insert himself.

Sirius was contemplating getting Peter to frame him with drugs.

This was unlike Sirius, who although, did get revenge for every petty thing, did not get riled up this quickly. He was the picture of perfection, and he knew it. So why was he getting that jealous itch every time he looked at Remus and Benjy? Fenwick did not hold a candle to Sirius, and Sirius knew it.

It simply grated on Sirius every time that Benjy casually bumped up against Remus, or flippantly pushed his shoulder with a laugh, like they were old friends, when Sirius, who was not a stalker and simply just had sources, knew that they were not.

Sirius, would never take any touch of Remus’s for granted, he thought to himself, as he lay in his bed, ladden in fresh silk sheets, courtesy of Kreacher, the maid, that night. If Sirius ever pressed his shoulder against Remus, he would bury his head in his neck and kiss that one mole on his neck that, Sirius had spent countless Calculus classes staring at. If Sirius had an opportunity to have his hands on Remus, he would only bring him closer, and never push him away.

He wanted so badly to know this boy, although Sirius, deep in his heart, a place he would never say outloud, felt as if, on an intrinsic, human level, he already knew him.

“Have I met you before?Had I once known you?” He thought to himself miserably as longing overtook him.

____

The next morning at school as Sirius stared at the back of Remus’s golden locks, he thought to himself, “I could love you forever if you just let me.”

____

It truly was not just a simple appreciation of looks when it came to Sirius’s feelings for Remus. Despite their lack of actual words, and well, any sort of relationship, Sirius probably knew more about the boy named Remus Lupin, than Remus himself did. Which of course, he knew from his sixth sense, and not any sort of stalking, because Sirius was much above that.

He knew that underneath his golden-boy, snotty image, he was mischievous and snarky, that he was the one who had once pulled that prank, in the first week of school, that was still being attributed to James and Sirius. But he was also kind, the type of kind that bent down to hug shaking freshman and guide them to their classes. Sirius knew that Remus prefered to stay within himself, only really conversing with a small group of people, but would rise to the challenge the minute, anyone insulted his friends. Sirius had a vague memory of that time that Remus, spewing foul French, had smacked Avery across the face for shoving Evans. He was strong, but warm, and lovely, and he wanted Remus to also, finally know him.

He wanted Remus to care about him. To know that Sirius loved the smell of Remus’s sweet chamomile tea, but personally, only drank coffee without milk. To know all the facets and sides of him, both carefully cruel and sniping at times, but also painfully tender and someone who loved ever so deeply with all his heart.

___

By the next Student Council meeting a few days later, Sirius had refilled himself with motivation and a type of unrelenting drive that only came from having Walburga Black as a mother and warden.

Yes, there had been a few setbacks, one or twice or thrice, but technically, Sirius had not fucked anything up, yet at least.

Taking a last bite of the pesto sandwich he had gotten from the Kitchens, he schooled his face into a picture of confidence before peeking in the room.

Remus, looking splendid in a wool sweater, sat in a blue plastic chair close to the table, his body bent forward, his chin on his hands.

“So, now that whole banner problem has been solved, by my help, do you have anyone picked out as a date for the prom?” Sirius said smoothly, sliding into the seat beside Remus, and immediately breathing in that cinnamon scent.

Remus looked up, his big, brown eyes peering curiously at Sirius. “No, not yet.” He shared.

Taking his chin off his hands, he continued, “I’ve just been so busy with the setup and supplies and a hundred other things. I haven’t really thought about it.”

Remus opened his mouth as if to continue his sentence, but nothing came out. He simply stared hard at Sirius for a second before his eyes lightened.

“Do you, uh, have a date”? Remus asked.

“Actually! I was-“ Sirius was cut off by the doors opening and the rest of the Council poured in. He groaned quietly as he slinked back into his seat. Remus too, after another odd, long glance at Sirius, somewhere below his eyes, turned away and began flipping through his notes before clearing his throat and beginning the meeting.

Sirius glumly thought to himself that there truly was some cosmic force in the universe working against him.

As some dark haired bloke went off about prom dress code rules, Sirius heard a snicker from his left. He turned his head, and saw Remus’s, and James’, favourite redhead, Lily Evans, smirking at him.

“What?” he mouthed quietly to her.

“Pathetic,” she mouthed back, discreetly pointing at him with one hand, then pointing at Remus, who’s eyes were still dutifully trained on the room’s speaker.

He flipped her a finger, fuming. Yes, he had not exactly been the most discreet at staring longingly at Remus, but what did Lily Evans know? He then ignored her for the rest of the meeting.

The scrape of chairs broke the tension, as the meeting ended. Before Sirius could blink, Lily quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room, into the alcove right outside the room, just about hidden from view.

“Evans, what the hell!” He scowled, pulling his arm away. “No offence, but I’m not interested in a secret tryst with you.”

"I want a tryst with your best friend, " he thought.

She snorted. “As if, Black.” She shook her head, before drawling out, “Remus.”

Sirius crossed his muscular arms over his chest, waiting for her to continue.

She shook her head, “You’re obviously into him. Watching you pine like some Romeo has been literally painful to watch.”

Sirius leaned his head against the wall, and looked down at her. “Did you pull me aside like some secret lover just to tell me that, or are you planning to help me?”

____

Yayy! Finally some dialogue between our two main stars.

@dumbass-gryffindor1960

Domestic Wolfstar Post-War

-a small cottage with a messy front lawn from too many Weasleys and Potter children visiting.

- a quaint backyard with perfectly grown fruits that Sirius plucks after a full moon to make warm tomato soup for Remus.

- chipped floral china filled with a different flavour tea each morning made by Remus, delivered each morning to Sirius who still lays in bed, messy hair sprayed over soft cotton pillows.

- an old leather couch beaten from too many nights where Remus and Sirius lay close, hands clasped, under one wool blanket, and a muggle movie on.

- a bookshelf that cover floor to wall, filled with mystery crime novels bought by Sirius for Remus to enjoy.

- a small bench overlaid with thick ivy where Remus reads aloud and Padfoot lays with head in his lap, just listening. Just listening to the sounds of being alive and here and now and in love.

- cold rainy days where they stay in bed, drowning in warmth from the crackling fire in the corner of the cozy room, that eases their weary bones.

- fresh flowers on the window sill each morning that Sirius brings when he comes from his daily morning walk. Roses, and daffodils, and Cornelias. And sometimes Lilies as well.

- sweet smelling candles on the dinner table, lit every night when they enjoy home cooked meals.

- cooking together in their small kitchen, constantly bumping into each other and laughing each time. Wearing matching aprons bought by Harry and over stirring the stew and eating all the batter before it goes in the pan.

- sitting on the front steps each night, just looking at the stars, fully in love.

- countless photo albums filled with birthday parties and Christmases, and New Years, and summers, and dinner parties, and weddings and joy and love because they’re here, and healing, and happy.

- because they’re alive.

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