This is the seventy-first incarnation of a companion piece for the much-sweeter "Wonderful" requested by LoquaciousGirl and inspired by the adventures of the wonderful LoverFaery. Please review.
Remus was going to kill him. If he saw that black haired fool running around their flat naked or charming the dishes to sing "I'm a Little Teapot" or generally causing chaos one more time, the werewolf was going to kill that boy so dead even the vampires and zombies would respect his wrath. One more incident and James Potter was going down in history as The Boy Who Died. Painfully.
It wasn't that he didn't respect Lily's decision to throw her beau out of their flat until the wedding. There was packing and tidying to be done and Godric's Hollow needed to be readied and James was utter bollocks at those menial life tasks. Remus simply couldn't fathom why that meant he had to live with Sirius and him for an entire month. Surely he could move about or travel or sleep on a couch in the Hollow.
Remus winced as he heard the distinctive sound of furniture falling. Okay, perhaps a couch in the Hollow wouldn't be the best idea. "What happened?" James appeared to have removed every drawer from the guest room dresser, thrown in on the floor, and then toppled the empty shell.
"Oh Moony, thank God," panted James. "I can't find my black sock! Have you hidden it somewhere?"
Remus glanced at the pile of socks on the floor by the bed. "This one?" he asked, pulling one from the melee. "Or this?"
"No!" cried the bespeckled boy. "My good black sock!"
The werewolf shook his head. "Have you tried accio sock?"
James looked frantic. "But what if Sirius has jinxed it?"
"To do what?"
"To fly up my nose or hit me with a faceful of mustard and meet up with my other sock and then fly far away?" James gestured wildly to the kitchen, the window, and his face.
Remus shook off the feeling he had stepped into an absurdist play. "I'm sure Sirius has neither the time nor the skill to make your socks maim you and then flee the scene of the crime."
"Oy!" called a voice from the doorway. "I most certainly could. I am skilled in everything," Sirius gloated, giving the werewolf his best Sexy Eyes.
"Ew! Ew, Padfoot! I do not need to be thinking about that!" cried James, shielding his eyes.
The newcomer snorted. "Then don't. I only need Moony thinking about it. And how much fun we could have if you could go ten minutes without ruining something."
Remus grinned wryly. At least his boyfriend understood the basics, if he still failed to grasp the gravity of James' destructiveness. "I do not break something every ten minutes!"
"Well, you just killed my dresser. That thing survived ten years with me," Sirius pointed out. "Last night you broke two teacups and one of Moony's books while we were at dinner!" Remus shuddered. It had been a very nice dinner, right until the getting-home-to-find-the-flat-in-distress moment.
"I didn't mean to!" cried James. "I was just trying to get them to joust a bit with the handles!"
"My teacups," gasped Remus, "do not joust!"
"Not well, anyway," snickered Sirius before turning back to James. "What about the chair in living room? We only had one chair."
"Or that dreadful thing he did with the pictures!" added Remus. Sirius nodded firmly in agreement, although his eyes were sparkling and he was clearly trying not to smile at the memory. It would seem pictures that fly in the face of anyone who speaks the name of the depicted was rather funny. If you didn't have twenty pictures of Sirius hidden throughout the flat that would all rush you in the most inopportune moments, of course.
"I apologized for that!"
"Only after I threatened to send your entire magazine collection to Lily!"
Remus smiled. Sirius could be quite menacing when coming to his defense. "Padfoot, I think there's only one thing we can do…" He looked as solemnly as possible at James.
The other boy nodded and frowned. "If you think we must…"
James began to back towards the door. "Come on, mates…"
"I'm sorry Prongsie," replied Sirius. "There's nothing more I can do. He's made up his mind."
"Remus! Come on! Moony!" The prankster gripped to doorframe with one hand.
"You've had your last chance," lamented Remus.
"It's been fun, mate," said Sirius as he began moving his wand.
"Pads!" screeched James as he was magicked into the fireplace. "There must be some way we can work this out!" The former Head Boy's possessions joined him in the inlet. "Give me one more chance."
"I'll see you in a week, Prongs," said Sirius grimly, reaching into a container above the mantle. "Pettigrew Place!" he intoned.
"Oh bugger," yelled James as he was whisked out of view by the green flames.
Sirius turned to face his boyfriend, grinning wildly. "Better?"
The werewolf lunged at Sirius before collapsing into giggles. "My hero," he cooed playfully once he had recovered his breath.
"Damn right. Now what do I get for my heroics?" He waggled his eyebrows.
"C'mere you," replied Remus as he grabbed the other boy's robes.
The next morning, Remus snuggled into the other boy's chest and enjoyed the peace and quiet.
"Morning beautiful," whispered his living pillow.
"Mmmm," he sighed contently.
"Peter sent a note a few hours ago. I think he wants to thank us for sending him our favorite houseguest. Want to see it?" Without waiting for an answer, he shoved the scrap of parchment under Remus' nose.
Opening his eyes slowly, the werewolf saw the note contained only one word: Help. "He'll be fine," decided Remus, nuzzling back into his rightful place.