Disclaimer: I don't own Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, or anything else you recognize from the Harry Potter books and no profit is being made from this piece. I do own all original prose and interpretations, so no stealing.
Summary: Remus Lupin had a problem: Nymphadora Tonks thought she was in love with him. Unfortunately, Sirius finds out and helps in the only way he knows how. It doesn't really work; besides, how do you tell your best friend that you're just not interested?
Not Interested
"Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love." –Charles Schulz, Charlie Brown
Remus had a problem, and, for once, it had absolutely nothing to do with Sirius, James, Harry or his lycanthropy. It wasn't all that terrible, he supposed, but it was still—you see, Nymphadora Tonks thought she was in love with him. He just—he didn't know what to do.
"What's wrong, Moony?"
Remus was not the Marauder with the reflexes: that was James or Sirius, in a pinch. Frankly, he didn't do well when he was startled, which is how he found himself on his back on the floor, chair toppled over and his legs in the air with Sirius blinking down at him. He was grinning. Something sank in the pit of Remus's stomach. That grin had never boded well for him; it usually led to a detention or getting hexed by Sirius's slighted women.
With as much dignity as he could manage, Remus stood up, righted his chair and blatantly ignored his best friend. He knew very well that it wouldn't last very long, and it didn't.
"Nothing," he said. There was no way Sirius would let this go; he didn't let anything go.
"It's not 'nothing,'" Sirius replied as he poured himself a cup of toxic sludge. Remus hated how perceptive he could be when he wante— "I can see it in your eyes."
Except when he was being an idiot. "You're looking at the back of my head, Padfoot."
"Well then, I just... know."
"Know what?" Remus responded in a heated voice. "There is nothing to know."
Sirius gestured widely with his mug, almost drenching Remus with the lukewarm coffee. "There is always some—"
The door slammed open as a lurid green-haired woman barreled into the kitchen. She pushed away from Sirius, smiling. "Wotcher, cousin. What are you— oh." She pulled away, a blush spreading across her cheeks before bleeding up into her hair. "Hi, Remus."
"Morning," Remus muttered.
Sirius smiled knowingly.
Remus turned pink.
Tonks tripped as she backed out of the room.
Remus dropped his head into his arms.
"You fancy my cousin, you sly wolf you."
He glared at Sirius, but it didn't seem to do anything. "I do not!"
"Then what is it, Moony?"
He wished he could sink into the floor. He wished he could just… disappear like James under his Cloak. Anything would be better than dealing with Sirius and his smug grin. "Shefanciesme."
"What?"
Remus was sure he was torturing him. His face slowly turned red. "Your second cousin fancies me," he repeated slower.
Sirius waved his mug in the air. "And you don't…?"
"No," he said as firmly as he could manage while blushing. "I don't."
"Oh, right then." He frowned, taking another sip out of his mug. "I'll be going now."
"Sirius?" Remus had never liked that face. At Hogwarts that face had meant detentions, many detentions, mostly with Filch and that—that look of disappointment from McGonagall for not controlling his friends better. "Sirius, what are you planning?"
Sirius gave him his best innocent smile; the one that had gotten him out of half his scrapes when he'd been a young first year. "Nothing, absolutely nothing. You, my friend, don't have to worry about a thing."
Now Remus was really worried; Sirius Orion Black was plotting something.
Remus had just started to forget their conversation. He really should have known better than to let his guard down after only a week. He slowly lifted the forkful of potatoes to his mouth and chewed, carefully watching Sirius for any sort of hint as to what the hell he was doing.
"Oh dear, we're out of gravy already." Molly frowned at the gravy boat. "I'll fetch—"
"Allow me, Molly," Remus interrupted with a quick smile. He picked up the gravy boat and walked toward the kitchen, pulling Sirius by the collar on his way. "Come with me."
He set the gravy boat on the counter and turned, waiting for the door to swing shut behind them, leaving all of the curious Order members out of the conversation he was about to have. Remus may have been confused, but he wasn't stupid and he knew that Sirius was a volitile and bewildering person under the best of circumstances, let alone when Remus wanted to strangle him.
"What is going on?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Sirius replied blithely.
Remus narrowed his eyes. "Have you put anything in Severus's food?"
"No," Sirius responded, taking a moment to look forlorn.
"Have you switched anyone's wand with one of the Weasley boys'?"
"Nope."
"Have you put a spell on Alastor to turn his hair a different color every time he reminds us to be vigilant?"
"No, but I like the idea. We'll do it next week."
"Have you—Sirius, are you even paying attention?"
The man was re-buttoning his shirt—unevenly, at that— and he'd already mussed his hair. He leaned over to do the same to Remus's. Remus swatted his hands away impatiently.
"What are you doing, you crazy mutt?"
Sirius grinned again, eyes positively sparkling, and a mantra Remus hadn't heard in over twenty years began to run through his head. This was not good. McGonagall was going to hex him back to his Hogwarts days and Dumbledore was sure to revoke his hard-earned N.E.W.T.s.
"Nothing, Moony, absolutely nothing. You don't have to worry about a thing."
"Why would I have to wor—?" Sirius leaned over and pinched his cheeks. "Ow! Sirius, God, that hurt!" He rubbed at his newly pinked cheeks. With dawning horror, he stared at his friend. "Padfoot, you're not…?"
Sirius grinned and turned around, walking back into the Dining Room where everyone was likely waiting to see what would happen with the last of the Marauders (their arguments had been legendary at Hogwarts). Remus half expected to see a wagging tail peeking out from his trousers. This was so incredibly bad.
"Sirius, we're not done!"
…oh, Merlin. He knew what Sirius was trying to do.
Worst of all were the 'I-knew-its.'
The rest of the meal had been pure torture. Between Sirius's pet names and innuendos and Tonks's own incessant flirting, he hadn't been sure if he was going to make it to the end without strangling someone. Somehow (unfortunately), he did. Then there had been Severus's snide comments, the amused ones from Albus (he was sure the man knew the truth and was just having fun), and Molly's teary-eyed fussing. Even old Walburga Black had gotten in on it, taking every opportunity to screech her displeasure in his apparent sexual orientation (especially considering Sirius's assumed involvement) to the world.
Tonks, on the other hand, was far from as accepting as the rest of the world seemed to be. She'd taken to convincing him that he wasn't gay with whatever means she had available to her (including her rather... impressive bosoms), while her cousin was trying his best to convince her that the precise opposite was true (mostly with his equally impressive lack of the same). Remus was seriously considering burning down the house just to be rid of them both.
He sighed and took another sip from his hot chocolate, musing over his new problem. How was he supposed to tell his best friend that he just wasn't interested?
Author's Notes: There we go. Depending on your preference, you can either see it as pre-Remus/Sirius or pre-Remus/Tonks or neither. Your choice. Someday I might even be convinced to write conclusions for one, both, or all of the options. Please review if you read it. Thanks to everyone who's already reviewed this already.