Disclaimer: I own the pitiful fantasy of Remus and Sirius, far from being dead/old/fighting a war, buying a cozy house somewhere, shacking up, and having many adorable domestic scenes involving Harry and his friends and loads of fluff. Sadly, JKR owns the real plot.

Additional Disclaimer: This is slash. In case you're new around here, that means two guys- namely our loveable Sirius and Remus- get it on. Don't like it? Find something else. I have plenty of non-slash stories in my archive.

Summary: Sirius schemes, Remus succumbs. Pointless fluff. Post-Hogwarts, Pre-PoA. Slash, RLSB

Rating: T, for blatant slashiness and implied sex

Crossword Puzzle

Every night, Remus carefully set the old timer that sat on the table next to the bed. It was a reliable timer, given to him by his father, who had been a Ravenclaw. It was the sort of thing that had been useful to a Ravenclaw like his father, and also a young man like Remus, who secretly suspected, high treason though it would have been considered by his dorm mates, that he would have done quite well in Ravenclaw.

It was a good timer for hard working and responsible Ravenclaw types. A simple design with a clock in the center, long black hands and a smooth polished wooden side. None of that complicated planetary chart nonsense. But in the morning, once the desired time was reached, the little clock would spare no annoying sound, no flares nor flashing lights, no complicated charm to get its owner out of bed or in the classroom or, as it so happened for Remus, in the office place where he belonged.

He set the timer for six-thirty every morning, which to Remus was a necessary evil. Remus Lupin loved sleep almost as much as he loved old books and chocolate and Sirius Black. There were few sensations better to a tired Remus than getting home off work, climbing quietly into bed, resting his cheek on the cold pillow, pulling the thick covers up to his chin, and slowly allowing his mind to slow down, stop worrying, stop wondering, and drift off into nothingness.

These moments seldom lasted long, due to the other occupant of the flat in which Remus lived. This occupant had lately taken to waiting until Remus was nearly asleep, only to begin poking him in the side with his fingertip until Remus would finally have to admit his annoyance, and revive himself to confront Sirius. This event would generally result in frantic lovemaking, after which poor Remus would finally be allowed some rest, but would be far less cheerful about waking up the next morning.

Sirius was not like Remus. For Sirius, who was always filled with some sort of energy, be it vengeful, passionate, or merely childlike, sleep was more like an annoying chore that even he couldn't put off at times. Remus wasn't sure how much sleep Sirius ever got. He knew that in the past, he had woken in the night to find the man sprawled up against his side in bed, but he certainly always remained awake longer than Remus, holding their bodies together until Remus drifted off, and he was certainly always awake before Remus was forced out of bed, plotting and scheming away in the kitchen with a fresh pot of coffee.

Sirius had, in the past, been more inclined to the coffee and less inclined towards the schemes, but the fact that he instead of Remus, for the first time in their relationship, was between jobs had brought out a different side. He really wasn't unemployed, not in the way that Remus usually was, but his duties with the Order were sporadic, often leaving him with little to do on the weekdays while Remus was forced to head down to Gringotts and do the boring protective charms that made up his job for the time being. But all of this downtime left Sirius bored, and a bored Sirius was a scheming Sirius. Remus supposed he should have been glad that Sirius' schemes were not harmful in any way, except to his job and to his father's clock.

The first scheme had taken place not even a week after Remus had begun his Gringotts job. He supposed he had encouraged it- after Sirius had completed his Auror training and Remus was fired from the pest control company he was working for, the two had decided to take a brief vacation from employers and death eaters and English winter weather to spend a week in France. And it had been wonderful, that week without anything to worry about, sleeping in as late as they wished and seeing the countryside, although they hadn't slept very much at all and most of the countryside was viewed from the windows of their hotel rooms. Still, he could hardly blame Sirius for not wanting to go back to everyday.

Even if he couldn't blame him, it was still bloody frustrating, waking up in a panic with all of the light shining in through the window, telling him it was far later than it was supposed to be. He glanced at the table next to the bed, and saw that the clock was not there. He found it quite quickly, for as soon as he left the bedroom for the open kitchen/living room area of the flat, he saw frantic, colorful fireworks exploding and crashing against the door of the kitchen cabinet where he kept the seasonings, so loud he was worried that the neighbor who had complained to the landlord about the racket he and Sirius often made would have something different to complain about.

Sirius was sitting on the couch, calmly drinking a cup of coffee and reading The Daily Prophet with intense concentration. "Hullo, Moony," he said casually, glancing up from the paper to fix his lover with a curious smile as Remus opened the cupboard and shut off the alarm.

"Sirius," said Remus, "Why is my alarm clock in the kitchen cabinet?"

"Who knows?" Sirius asked. "But I guess it's probably too late for work, anyway. Why don't you just take the day off?"

So Remus did, and he took the day off the next day when Sirius hid the clock again, and he went to work the day after that because he charmed the clock to the bedside table, but the next day Sirius stole every single one of his robes, so he took that day off, as well. So he warned Sirius, quite sternly, he thought, that he absolutely couldn't miss anymore work, as jobs and money were hard enough to come buy, and wasn't this sort of thing the reason for the vacation in the first place? And Sirius smiled and agreed, nodding his head thoughtfully as though he was really taking the warning to heart. But Remus knew better, and he was certain that nothing Sirius did would distract him from getting to work come Monday morning, even if he did have to go to work in his underwear.

And the clock went off, exactly as planned, and he pulled the covers off and groaned as he forced himself to remove the warm covers and pull himself out of bed, also exactly as planned. And his robes and shoes and everything were all in the closet, so he put on his nice robes, the ones with the hardly frayed edges, and looked in the bathroom mirror for a few moments wondering if that was really a gray hair or just a little discoloration from the part of the vacation spent out on the beach, and then he walked into the kitchen where he picked up his warming cup of coffee, that thick warm way Sirius made it, sitting on the counter.

And there was Sirius sitting on the couch with his coffee and reading the Prophet. He didn't even glance at Remus, so absorbed was he in whatever he was reading. The long dark hair hanging over his face obscured any expression, so Remus wasn't sure if it was good news or bad news. But it was rare to see Sirius concentrate this hard on anything other than pranks, Quidditch, and shagging. Remus gave the man a suspicious look out of the corner of his eye, but he was able to reach the door without incident, place his hand on the knob without incident, turn the handle and creak open the door-

"Hey, Moony," said Sirius. Remus stopped and sighed, bracing himself to face whatever Sirius might throw at him. "What's the name of the Minister of Magic during the Grindewald crisis? Six letters." Sirius cocked his head to the side, splaying the hair across his very thin white t-shirt and smiled at Remus with lovely round innocent gray eyes.

"What?" asked Remus. He glanced at the paper in Sirius' hands and saw that he was doing the crossword puzzle. It didn't seem such a bad idea to help him out, Remus thought while noting the way the t-shirt slid off Sirius's shoulder. It would certainly keep Sirius from scheming. "Er, Dobryn, I think. In the 1600s." He glanced at Sirius, who was frowning, and scratching letters out quite frantically. "No, no, you idiot, not with an 'i', didn't you ever listen in History of Magic?"

He walked over to the sofa and sat down next to Sirius, and Sirius shrugged and pressed the paper into his hands. And he continued helping Sirius find the five letters across water demon and the nine letters down Wizarding Wireless singing sensation, until he noticed that he was really doing the puzzle very much on his own, as Sirius was very preoccupied stroking his fingers through his hair, along the bones of his chin and the veins of his neck, down his shoulders and softly, just nipping under the collar of his robes.

And he'd wake up much later pressed down into the sofa cushions, too late to get into work, and he'd find Sirius curled up above him with his leg hanging off the side of the couch and his long hair spread out across Remus' chest, with the crossword puzzle lying on the floor next to Remus' robes and Sirius' t-shirt, uncompleted, written out in Remus' handwriting. And he just lay there, enjoying the way Sirius smiled in his sleep, running his fingers down the bumps of his spine until he kissed and murmured into Remus' neck, "Y'know, I rather like doing the crosswords."

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