Chapter Text
Sirius is just about to nod off when he hears a crash from the back room.
The faint glow of the sun over the buildings across the street was shining in the windows just so, and it was perfectly quiet except for the faint drip of the coffee maker behind him and the hum of the refrigerator in the back, and Tuesdays just make him tired in general...
But he jolts awake at the sound of metal hitting the floor.
"Christ, are you okay?" he calls as he rounds the corner. James is bending over picking up small pieces of the new espresso machine that just came today. Sirius sees a spring still rolling across the concrete floor. He whistles in appreciation of James' stupidity. "Lily's going to kill you."
"Thanks for the moral support and all though. Quite helpful. Could you grab that bit that just rolled under the shelf there?"
Sirius makes a face at the prospect of getting dust on his torn black jeans, but eventually lowers himself to the ground and reaches under the wooden shelf. His long hair curtains to the ground behind him as he stretches forward to reach it. "You're lucky this one isn't glass."
"Lucky? It's still broken. For God's sake, what is this?" he asks, and Sirius turns to look at the golden metal bit in his hand. It's got three openings and two little holes for screws. He can't even begin to imagine what it's for.
"You're screwed," Sirius concludes, straightening up now that he's got the bolt in his hand. He's never seen a bolt come off of something like that before. It can't be a good sign.
"I'll just tell her you did it," James says, dusting his hands off on his jeans as he drops a greasy rubber thing into the box. "Think that part was oily. Is that no good?"
"Should I be ordering a new one?"
"Christ," James says. He stands up and peers down into the box for a long moment and then sighs heavily. "I have to go call her."
"That's it, mate. Chin up. You can take a week without sex."
"It's just a stupid coffee maker."
"Yeah, you broke the most expensive coffee maker you could've broken. Tough luck."
"Oh, for-- don't you have something you should be doing? What time is it? Shouldn't Moony be coming soon?"
Sirius digs his hands into his apron pockets. "Shut up. Maybe. Don't call him that."
"I'd call him by his name if you actually knew it," James jokes. He lifts the espresso machine box onto the overcrowded desk. That was probably why it fell in the first place, Sirius thinks, but if he says something he might have to be the one to clean it, and he'd really rather not.
"He always looks like he doesn't want to be bothered," Sirius says.
"Maybe he's just uncomfortably trying to avoid the way you stare at him non-stop."
"I do not!"
"Someone's in denial," James says, reaching into his pocket for his iPhone. Sirius watches as he flips through his contacts but says nothing more. So he has a crush on the kid. He's cute. He doesn't understand why it has to be a thing, but James makes everything he can into a thing. Sirius does not like having his life be made into a thing.
"Yeah, hey," James says a bit too sweetly. "I have something to tell you."
Sirius would really rather not hear Lily scream. Even over the phone it's quite an unpleasant display. He pushes the back room door open just in time to see the kid's figure pass by the window, and Sirius' heart thuds oddly in his chest and he wonders, not for the first time, why he finds this teenage hipster so attractive. The kid wears chukkas, for God's sake. The bells over the shop door jingle as it's pushed open.
"Same as always?" Sirius asks with a friendly smile, and he receives an answering smile that suggests a strong sensation of discomfort, so he sets to work on the iced coffee. He assumes this kid is coming from secondary school, based on the messenger bag and stack of books. He's wearing the dumb shirt today, the one that inspired his nickname, with the three wolves howling at the moon. Sirius is so sick of ironic t-shirts, but he really can't complain about the way the fabric hugs his lean body. Plus it's not the t-shirt's fault that James teases Sirius incessantly about his "Moony eyes." And then there's the faded skinny jeans and the boat shoes, and really, Sirius' ability to hold a grudge isn't that strong willed, even when his dignity is on the line.
"Like that shirt," he says, adding syrup to the plastic cup in his hand.
Honey-colored eyes stare blankly at him for a moment before a grin splits the kid's face, and he laughs softly, low and smooth. Sirius feels arousal pooling in his stomach. "Thanks. I thought it was kind of funny."
"Funny?" Sirius asks, flicking an eyebrow up as he pours dark roast coffee over the ice in the cup.
"Well, my name's Remus Lupin," he explains. "So you know."
"Quite a sense of humor your parents must have," Sirius jokes, pressing a lid on and sliding the cup across the counter.
"You'd be surprised," he remarks dryly, pulling a fiver from a worn leather wallet and handing it to Sirius. The color and life that had so subtly spread through his features is gone now, like a window rolling up between them.
Sirius eyes him (Remus, he thinks, and the name sounds so wonderful just because it is his and he finally knows it, and Sirius thinks he may as well just cut off his balls at this point because is he a grown man or a teenage girl?) for a moment before turning to the register. He's never sure where the line is between teenagers whining about how their parents suck and teenagers actually having abusive parents. Remus owns Sperrys and expensive clothing, but Sirius grew up learning that money does not equal love and acceptance.
"Um," Remus says, and as Sirius refocuses, he realizes that he's been staring at Remus' wavy golden hair. He's so fucked, he thinks for a minute, and Remus looks very confused. "There's... no more straws in the thing," he says, and Sirius smiles apologetically almost on instinct.
"Sorry about that," he says, rooting around under the counter for a new box. He hands one to Remus with a smile before stepping around to the other side of the counter to refill the container. When he glances back over, Remus is giving him a not-quite-unpleasant strange look, and he feels his stomach warm in response.
"So yours are into astronomy then?" Remus asks.
"Yeah, it's ah, it's a rather awful family tradition," Sirius says, crushing the box flat to toss it in the trash. "My father's name was Orion, and so they--" He turns to Remus, brows furrowed, watching suspiciously as Remus smiles pleasantly "Wait, how did you--"
"Know your name?" Remus asks. "Well, mostly because you're wearing a name tag."
Sirius looks down and laughs, dragging a hand over his face. "So I am," he says, and he's never embarrassed easily, but he feels a little dumb now. "Well, Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you. I'm Sirius Black," he says, holding his hand out, and Remus shakes it with a bit of a quirky grin on his face.
"You too," Remus says. "Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee," he adds, heading for the door. "I'll be back tomorrow for my daily fix,"
"I'll be eagerly awaiting your arrival," Sirius jokes, and he hopes to god he is not imaging that blush, and the bells above the door tingle in time with Remus' sweet laugh as he steps outside into the warm early fall air.
When Sirius pushes the door to the back room open, James is sitting on the floor with his legs folded beneath him, hunched over with his head in his hands.
"You look happy," Sirius comments.
"She's so firey," James says. "Why did I used to think that was a good thing?"
"You are quite mad."
"I've got limits. She acted like she wasn't that angry, so now I've got to live in fear."
"You're downright paranoid, mate."
"She does things, Sirius. I love her but she's evil."
"Speaking of evil," Sirius says, leaning coolly against the wall. "You're not allowed to call him Moony anymore."
"Why?"
"I found out his name."
"You talked to him?"
"Yeah. It's Remus."
"Christ," James says, laughing. "Remus. Like Romulus and Remus?"
"Just like."
"Moony. It's perfect!"
"Oh for God's sake."
"It's like fate."
"It's like you're an arsehole who probably isn't getting laid for another solid week because he knocked an expensive piece of equipment over like an ignorant clutz."
"You know you could just ask him out if you're so jealous of my sex life."
"No offense to you or Lils, but I'd rather be celibate than shag her."
"True tragedy, that is. Well, at least my wife is of age."
"He might be," Sirius defends. "Anyway, like you've never found a teenager attractive. He's hot, is all, coming in here with those dumb hipster clothes and that stupid lovely hair. And that nose--"
"Oh, shut up. His nose is the size of Australia."
"His nose is cute. But. That's entirely beside the point. He's hot. It's not like I want to marry him."
"Give it time," James says, hauling himself to his feet. "That's how my obsession with Lily started out."
"Kill me if it ever gets that far," Sirius says, but then he wonders how long it'll take for that soft voice and those maple brown eyes to tear away at his sanity.