I don't know what the hell this is. I'm so sorry, I really don't. It didn't go in the direction I had planned at all...
"Every Wolf Deserves A Star, Wolfstar Competetion" on the HPFC forum. Prompts: Crime (genre), Wheelchair (word), and Package (word)
It started, as most relationships- problems, really- like this do, in a bar.
And really, that should have been the first clue right there, but Sirius never did listen to those warning bells in his head.
The man had short hair to the middle of his ears, which in the dim lighting could have been blond or brown. His smile caught Sirius off-guard, blinding and brilliant, and the attraction came hard and fast. The man's friends left through the front door and Sirius slid into the seat across from him, and the man's amber eyes pinned him in place as the man stuffed a small package into his jacket pocket. "Hey," he greeted, "The name's Sirius."
"…Remus," was his reply, as the man- Remus- reached forward to shake Sirius' hand. "Can I help you?" he questioned.
Sirius grinned. "You most certainly can, by going out with me sometime?" he offered.
There was a cold, calculating glean in Remus' eyes as he appraised Sirius for the briefest of moments. Then that brilliant smile returned and he nodded, much to Sirius' relief. "Why not?" he agreed. "Call me sometime," he said, handing Sirius a card and standing. "I'll see you later."
"Let me give you my number, too," Sirius said quickly, and Remus paused, a flash of annoyance crossing over his face before it smoothed over again. Sirius didn't think anything of it.
Not once did it occur to Sirius that this might not be a good idea.
…
And for a few weeks, they didn't get in contact again. Sirius even forgot about the pretty brunette after a while. It was purely chance that he ran into him again at the gas station while Sirius was on his way to nowhere town up north.
He turned off his bike and left it to enter the store attached to the station. It was small and dirty and some of the lights were flickering, but Sirius paid that no mind. He walked over to the refrigerated items and pulled out a bottle of soda, then turned around and grabbed a bag of chips. As he walked up to the front counter, he eyed the cigarette packets behind the bored-looking man sitting at the register. He noted that they didn't have any more of the kind he usually bought, which was both disappointing and obnoxious, but he figured the stuff next to the empty place would be suffice.
"Ticket for the power bowl," someone said, lightly pushing Sirius out of the way. He stumbled and caught himself, then whipped around to give this guy a piece of his mind.
"Hey!" he said, more in surprise than in anger. "Remus, right?" he asked.
Remus turned. He sized Sirius up for a moment before recognition flashed across his face along with something else. "Fuck," was all he said, then he grabbed Sirius' arm and pulled a gun out of his pants somewhere.
Sirius reared back at the sight of it, heartbeat starting to race; unable to believe he'd given his number to this guy. The guy behind the counter jerked and opened the register, despite the fact that Remus didn't even point the gun. He held it loosely, but the look in his shining amber eyes was enough. The man held out a large stack of twenties, and Remus pulled harshly on Sirius' arm. "Take it," he hissed, and Sirius did so before he was dragged out of the shop and into the rain.
Remus tossed him into the backseat of a car and then hopped into the front and put the car in reverse. He pulled out and floored it, much to Sirius' alarm. He shrieked and scrambled for the seatbelt, the twenties flying onto the seat, before deciding that would probably be a bad idea in case of an accident.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Sirius snarled, "what are you doing, you madman?"
Remus didn't answer.
…
The first thing Sirius saw when he woke up was a wheelchair, folded and tucked away in the corner of the room. There really wasn't much else to see aside from that and Remus sitting in a chair with a book. Remus glanced up and slammed it shut, moving forward.
"I didn't want to hurt you, you know," he murmured, reached out and running a hand through Sirius' hair. Sirius tried to bat him away but found that his arms were bound to the bed and his ankles were in a similar state.
"Fucking hell," he panted, leaned as far away as he was able. "Get away from me."
Remus cocked his head to the side. "I thought you'd be angrier," he said, but it didn't seem like he was talking to Sirius. It appeared as though he were thinking aloud.
"Angrier?" Sirius demanded. "Fuck, I'm furious," he said. "What is wrong with you? Why do this?"
"You were in the way," Remus said. "Which is too bad because I intended to call you," he finished, and to further Sirius' upset, he really did sound regretful. "Oh well," he muttered, reproducing that gun. He held it out and leveled it with Sirius' head. Sirius' eyes widened and he pressed himself as far back into the sheets as he could, but that only enhanced the blood spot and lessened the splatter once the trigger was pulled.