A/N Edit: This is the full version! I finally updated it :D
Hey, guys. Just a quick post tonight: this is complete and utter fluff.
Thank you to Bex (DobbyRocksSocks) who helped me enormously with one of the scenes, and shoutout to Ray (Ray Queen) for throwing the Magnolia idea at me.
This fic is written for the November Assignment for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as well as for a host of other challenges for the same forum. Prompts will be at the end of the work.
Assignment #8: Home Economics and Domestic Magic (Five Basic Skills)
Task #2: Laundry: Write about someone taking pride in their appearance.
Disclaimer: J.K Rowling is not a goddess, but her writing is magical, and I can never compare. So, she keeps the characters, the places and her own created world, while I borrow them all every now and then like the pathetic human I am. The plot is all mine though!
Warnings/tags: none.
Genre: Romance, fluff.
Word Count: 9627 words
Summary: Just a cute Bakery!AU oneshot: Sirius asks Remus on a date, and their relationship goes from there. Feat. Fashion Disaster!Remus
Have fun!
"Ooh, look! Loverboy's here."
"Already?" Marlene comes scuttling from the coffee bar, glancing at Lily.
The roar outside the cool little shop shuts off to an instant stop, and through the clear glass doors, they can see the man straddling the big bike to the corner of the pavement pulling off his helmet. The man on the motorcycle fluffs out his dark hair where it sticks to his neck, and Marlene frowns.
"He's early," she says, glancing again at her scratched little wrist-watch. "He's never early."
The man climbs off his motorcycle, and they can see him checking his reflection in the bike's mirror, running his hands through his long hair yet again. The bright afternoon sun highlights his black tresses with hints of golden brown.
"Hmm, he looks nervous," Lily comments, "I think today will be the day."
Marlene snorts, ignoring the cut-off yelp on Lily's other side. "We've been saying that for five months now, Lils, and still, nothing. Don't get your hopes up."
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Remus finally pipes up, straightening his apron, "Sirius is not going to ask me on a date. We're just friends."
"But you don't want to be 'just friends,' Rem," Lily shoots back with a sly sideways glance. "Admit it—to yourself, if not to us."
"I…"
Remus snaps his mouth shut when he doesn't get any further, and the resulting chuckle from Marlene is enough to make his face go red. Sometimes, he hates that he can't lie to his friends.
Sirius is crossing the narrow side-street now, blissfully oblivious to the conversation centred around him in the empty little bakery. Remus really, really hopes it stays that way. It's been a miracle Sirius hasn't noticed Lily's obvious matchmaking attempts yet, or Marlene's pointed hand gestures.
The bell tinkles as Sirius opens the door, and he flashes Remus a wide grin the second his foot steps onto the checkered tile flooring. Remus smiles back, then blushes.
"Adorable," he hears Lily mutter on a soft snicker, and he feels the back of his neck heat up further.
Lily shoots Sirius a quick smile, calling out a "hello, Sirius," over her shoulder as she makes her way to the back. She smiles again when Sirius waves at her, then pushes on the bar handle and disappears through the swinging doors to the kitchen to check on the baking for the evening's first batch.
Marlene doesn't even bother going back to her station, fiddling with the quick stash of sugar sachets stowed in the pockets of her apron as she stares curiously between them. Remus groans internally. Marlene loves her gossip, and she loves seeing Lily being proven wrong. There is no way he'd be able to shake her off today.
Remus takes a deep breath and clears his throat. Sirius' bold gaze darts to him at the sound, and he has to refrain from swallowing a second time at the attention.
"Welcome to Red Magnolia Bakery," he says as professionally as he can. "What can I get you?"
"You know what I want," Sirius instantly supplies with a wink, leaning an elbow casually on the counter before him. Remus' stomach flutters in response, even though he knows that Sirius doesn't mean it that way.
"Uh—that'll be your usual, then?" he asks with a little stutter, and his face flushes again at his own awkwardness. Sirius smirks.
"But of course, darling Remus," Sirius responds, smirk intact. "Why would I ask for anything else?"
"Right, uh—" he punches in Sirius' order into the machine, and his fingers dance like clockwork across the buttons, memorised through repetition. "One whipped caramel macchiato with extra whip, extra caramel and one spiced walnut brownie, coming right up."
"Actually, Remus," Sirius says, stopping him before he can finalise the order, "Add in one of those sugary chocolate disasters you like to my tab. What's it called, again?"
Remus opens his mouth to refuse, but Marlene cuts in before he can speak. "Double dare double chip chocolate brownies."
Remus glares at her subtly, but she simply shrugs back.
"Right," Sirius points to her, grinning in thanks, "with extra chocolate drizzle."
Remus winces, but continues his attempts to dissuade Sirius. "Thank you, Sirius, but I really shouldn't let you—"
"Stop, Remus," Sirius replies, laughing, "I want to, so just let me buy this for you, will you?"
"I'm on my shift," Remus tries as a last ditch effort.
Sirius looks around at the empty tables with exaggerated movements. "Oh yes, I see," he says with obvious sarcasm, "all these customers to attend to—why, you must be rushed off your feet!"
Sirius looks at him expectantly for a response, and he rolls his eyes to provide one.
"Okay, okay, I give up!" Remus exclaims, breaking down in laughter. "I can't let you just buy me something from the very bakery I work at every time you feel like it, Sirius."
"Oh, but you've let me do it so far," Sirius responds with a wink and a victorious grin, "I think I'll take my chances with you."
"Go, sit," Remus says with an unwilling smile, refusing to acknowledge Sirius' statement, "I'll add your order to the tab. Just give me a minute and I'll bring it to you."
"You're a gem, Remus," Sirius states like a fact, then pushes himself off the counter. He heads straight for one of the only three corner booths in the shop—his usual seat—and slides in to sit on the side facing them at the till, offering them—no, Remus—a hot flash of a smirk before he turns to rummage in his leather shoulder bag.
Remus doesn't blush. He doesn't.
"You're blu-ushing," Marlene sing-songs in his ear, and he bites his lip and shoos her to start heating up the milk for the macchiato.
.oOo.
"Here you go, Sirius," Remus says a few minutes later, setting down the tray at his table.
Sirius looks up from his sketchbook. Remus had been surprised to find the table clear—Sirius usually spreads out his array of drawing pencils and charcoals all over the table, a chaotic mess of an arrangement that only Sirius knows the answer to. Sirius must have seen the question in his eyes, because he shrugs a little nervously and says, "Just some light sketching today."
"Okay," Remus answers as he slides into the other side of the booth. He doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he plays with the cuffs of his uniform shirt. He can feel the tied string of his red apron pressing against his back when he leans back against the leather rest.
No matter how many times he and Sirius do this, he always finds the first few seconds awkward.
Sirius shuts his sketchbook with finality, shoving the book and his pencil through the open zip of his bag. He turns to Remus with a fond smile, pushing the chocolate chip brownie closer towards him, and Remus instantly feels himself sinking into the ease of Sirius' comforting gestures.
The kitchen door swings open with a soft bang, and Remus turns to see Lily hurry in and speed-walk to where Marlene stands, leaning against the counter.
"How much did I miss?" his sharp ears catch Lily hissing, and he resolves to tune the rest out.
Thankfully, Sirius only spares the girls a single glance before he goes back to looking at Remus—it's mildly daunting to have the full breadth of Sirius' attention directed at him, but also just as thrilling, and it has the benefit of Sirius being too occupied to hear their gossiping and unnecessary speculation.
Besides, Remus certainly isn't complaining about the undivided attention. Oh no, he isn't.
Sirius is undeniably gorgeous. He's handsome, witty, charming, and above all, he always makes Remus feel special, like he's the only one Sirius has eyes for. It would be impossible for him not to have feelings for Sirius, and Remus can only resist the man's charms for so long before he inevitably gives in.
Sirius takes a bite of his walnut brownie—one of the few items on the menu made by Remus himself—and moans exaggeratedly on his first swallow, making Remus grin. "Mmm, so good, Remus," he mumbles through his mouthful, and when Remus laughs at Sirius' antics, he can feel the tension around him evaporating into non-existence.
They talk, as they always do. Sirius starts the conversation as usual, asking about Remus' mother with that truthful concern that suits his exuberance so well. Remus can never keep track of the things they talk about—one minute it's about Sirius' commissions and the changes he's made to his art portfolio, and in another it's about Remus' too-silent roommate and all the empty bags of chips he strews about in their boxy little apartment. It's easy, like this—just catching up and talking about whatever comes to their mind, and once they get going, they never run out of things to say.
They're friends, that's all they are. Sirius would never think of him as anything more, and Remus wouldn't blame him for it. He's nothing special, after all.
Contrary to what Lily and Marlene think, though, he likes things the way they are. He'd rather keep this unorthodox friendship than risk pushing for something more and ruining what they have. They've come so far from the strangers they were five months ago. He remembers Sirius visiting their bakery for the first time, just another customer with an easy smile and a flirty wink, and the memory stands in stark juxtaposition to the Sirius who tries to steal a chocolate chip from him with a grin while he bats the offending hand away.
They finish their last bites of their desserts, laughing together over one of Sirius' quirkier clients. Sirius' macchiato is still more than three quarters full, but Remus knows that he likes his drinks best when they go cold.
It's an utter abomination to his barista mind, but it's also one of the only few flaws Sirius really has.
"So, James made you coffee while you worked all night to complete the additions to that design?"
Sirius groans. "Jamie's the best friend I could have, and he means well, but that man does not know how to make coffee. That sludge tasted worse than the crap offered in hospitals, it was so bad."
Remus winces in sympathy. He's heard all about the many atrocities James the Roommate has committed in their shared kitchen, but this is the first time he's hearing about James' culinary ineptitude extending to his coffee-making skills.
"He'd set down a mug of the stuff on my desk every two hours and expect me to finish it. Every two hours, Remus. And to think, that used to be my favourite dream—a good cup of joe that never runs out. Now, the thought just gives me nightmares."
Remus shudders in response. He can only imagine the horror; if he ever had to suffer actual nightmares instead of his usual dreamless sleep, badly made coffee would be the number one thing that distresses him.
"That sounds horribly tormenting," he agrees with a sombre nod.
Sirius flashes him a quick smile at his seriousness and opens his mouth, but he shuts it closed before he says anything. He reaches out with his long fingers, instead, and plays with the tall, red-striped straw in his plastic cup.
He's been doing that a lot today, Remus notices. Sirius had fiddled with his straw thrice, drummed his fingers on the underside of the table almost constantly, and he had opened his mouth without saying anything once before as well. Remus has tallied all the peculiarities, and he goes over them now once again in his mind.
Lily had been right; Sirius is nervous. He wonders what's on the man's mind.
"You okay?" he asks Sirius mildly. Sirius starts in response, a barely there reaction.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he answers, smiling a little. His voice and demeanor sound casual enough to Remus. He doesn't push it further.
When their plates are empty, Sirius leans back in his seat, watching him. He's visibly edgy now, throwing uneasy glances between Remus and his drink, looking for all intents as if he's battling a pressing question. Remus doesn't comment, but Sirius' tenseness bothers him. He hopes he hasn't done something wrong, or unknowingly offended Sirius.
Remus scrapes his spoon expertly all along the contours of the plate, digging out every last trace of chocolate left behind. It's what he always does, loathe to ever waste the delicious dark treat, but Sirius' stormy grey eyes follow his every stir and motion like he's seeing it for the first time.
Remus watches him intently, feeling his own apprehension grow. This really is very unusual behaviour for Sirius.
He sees the exact second the look in Sirius' eyes softens to fondness as he watches him spoon up all the leftover chocolate, and he can tell the exact second Sirius decides to gear himself up and speak.
"Remus?"
"Yes, Sirius?"
"I, uh, wanted to ask you something."
Remus looks at him as encouragingly as he can. Sirius swallows lightly, and continues.
"I've been hoping to ask for a while—months, actually—and I feel that… today is the day."
Remus tilts his head to look at Sirius better. What is Sirius trying to say?
"So, um, Remus," Sirius clears his throat, "will you go out with me?"
Remus blinks. And he blinks again.
"Go out—you mean, like a date?"
"Yeah," Sirius replies, his pale cheeks turning the slightest shade of red, "a date." His smile is nervous, but earnest. "I really like you, Remus."
"You—you do?" Remus asks, incredulous. "But I thought—I thought you only saw me as a friend!"
"What do you mean?" Sirius asks, his voice growing stronger. The trace of nervousness dims in the face of the confusion in his tone. "I asked you out all those times the first week, and you kept saying no. Of course I like you! Knowing you as a friend all these months just kept making me like you more."
"Wait, you were being serious?" Remus asks, flushing bright. "I thought you were kidding!"
Sirius smiles wider, undoubtedly in response to Remus' embarrassed reaction. "There's a pun that needs to be made—"
"Please don't."
"—but I'll ignore it for your sake," Sirius continues, grinning madly now. "If you knew that I was serious then, would you have said yes?"
"Yes," Remus replies instantly, then flushes again at the obvious eagerness in his tone. "I—I really like you too, Sirius," he adds shyly.
Sirius bites his lips quickly in an effort to contain his smile. He doesn't succeed.
"And if I ask you now, would you still say yes?"
"Of course," Remus says, just as fervently as before.
"Well then," Sirius leans forward even more, his grey eyes sparkling, "Can I take you on a date, Remus Lupin?"
Remus feels his stomach flip-flop at hearing his name spoken in Sirius' low, teasing tone.
"Yes."
"Perfect." When Sirius grins this time, it's confident and charming, the way Sirius always is. It suits him.
"I have a client meeting scheduled tomorrow evening, so will Saturday night work for you?" Sirius asks him, growing serious, and Remus nods. Weekends are busy for the shop, but he's usually in the back tallying their accounts for the week while Lily and Marlene work the till for the day, so Saturdays are always half-days for him.
"Great," Sirius says, flashing him a quick smile. "You know the Italian place up on Axe Street, right?"
Remus nods again. "I know the one."
"Great," Sirius repeats, "Meet you out front at seven?"
"I'll be there," Remus assures, smiling.
Sirius slides out his end of the booth and gets to his feet, reaching for his now-cold macchiato.
"See you then, gorgeous," Sirius says with a playful wink down at him. He blushes at the endearment, looking up with stars in his eyes. He's too dumbstruck to come up with a reply.
Sirius grins happily, and turns around to walk to the till, taking a loud, satisfied slurp of his drink. Marlene has the bill ready and waiting for him, and he pays for his order in a matter of seconds.
"Goodbye, ladies," he says with another wink, before he walks to exit the bakery.
"Goodbye, Sirius," they chorus with cheeky grins.
He turns to give Remus one last suggestively wicked smirk before he walks out. Remus smiles back shyly.
The second the bell tinkles and the glass doors close shut behind Sirius, Lily and Marlene let out two synchronised squeals.
Remus sits there, glued to the leather seat of his new favourite booth for ages before he gathers enough strength to move.
.oOo.
It's nine at night, and Remus stands side by side with Lily at the large kitchen sink, brushing shoulders against hers every now and then as they finish up the last minute washing up together. Everything is all packed and put away for the night, and they just have to scrub down the counters in the kitchen after they're done at the sink. Red Magnolia closes at ten on weekdays, and there is but a mere trickle of customers for Marlene to deal with out front.
"So," Lily says, breaking the silence, "Sirius."
Remus sighs softly, feeling his lips twitch. It was only a matter of time before one of them brought it up, and he's honestly impressed that Lily managed to hold out so long.
"What about Sirius?" he asks back, infusing his voice with as much innocence as he can.
"Sirius asked you out," Lily stated, raising a thin red eyebrow to show her displeasure at his evasiveness. He smiles back sweetly.
"It seemed so," he responds casually. She frowns back, her green eyes sparking with impatience.
"So? You're going out in two days with the hot guy you've been crushing on for five months! Have you planned what you're going to wear?"
Remus winces, then turns to Lily. "What am I going to wear?"
Lily sighs heavily. "I'm coming over to your place tonight. We'll go through your closet together." She shakes her head to herself, muttering, "Surely there must be something appropriate among your monstrosity of a wardrobe."
"Hmm?" Remus enquires quizzically, her words being too soft for him to catch.
"Oh, nothing," she replies instantaneously, putting on a pasted smile for him. He'd call her out on it, but a thought runs through his head just then, one that makes his shoulders straighten and his eyes widen. The knife held in his grip slips from his hand, and it's only Lily's quick reflexes which prevents him from cutting his finger.
She turns around on him once the sharp blade is placed far, far away, ready to lay into him for being so careless, when her body stops in its tracks at the look on his face. Her bright green eyes dilate to match his.
"Sirius," Remus says faintly.
"Wha'? What happened?" Lily's voice asks. She sounds worried.
"Sirius—Sirius asked me out. On a date."
"He—Yes?"
"And I said yes."
"Yeah, Rem, you did. Are you okay?"
Lily's voice is almost frantic now. He tries to bring her face into focus, but his stare is too vacant and hazy to make her features out. All he sees is the fiery red of her hair.
"We're going out."
There's a beat of silence. When Lily next speaks, her voice is brimming with amusement.
"You are. He likes you."
Remus blinks. His vision clears. Lily is right there, facing him, fighting a grin behind the teeth clamped down on her lower lip.
"It's real?" he asks, hardly daring to believe it.
Lily releases her bitten lip, grinning fully at him. Her smile is giddy and bright and self-satisfied, and it instantly makes his lips stretch up into a broad grin, wide enough to rival hers.
"It's real," she answers him, nodding reassuringly. His chest feels fluttery at the confirmation, like it might burst open any minute.
"Sirius likes me," he says to himself, mouthing the words and getting a feel for them on his tongue. It feels good. Perfect, really.
"Mm hmm," Lily hums happily. He hears the smile in her voice and sees the genuine joy in her eyes, and his delirious haze shatters into pure horror.
"Lily," he squeaks sharply, and he can hear his voice break at the sudden high-pitch, "Lily, I have nothing to wear!"
Lily blinks once, then outright laughs at him. He's hyperventilating so badly, he can't even muster the indignation to get her to stop.
"What if he doesn't like the way I look? What if he stops liking me? I can't dress myself, Lily; help me!"
She just laughs harder, a loud, full-belly affair. She snaps the dish towel at him when he scowls, unable to contain her chuckles.
"When did you get so dramatic?" she asks between gasps.
"Lily!"
"Okay, okay!" she responds breathily, "Come on, calm down, Rem. I said I'm coming over tonight, didn't I? We'll pick out something for you together; it'll be fine."
It takes her a while of coaxing to calm him down, but he does. When Lily sends him off to check on Marlene, the panic ebbs away, and all that's left in him is giddy delight. He's grinning as he marches out front through the swinging doors, leaving Lily to start on the counters, and he's smiling as he wordlessly passes Marlene the note Lily had quickly penned down for him to hand over.
The tables are all empty, except for the middle-aged couple relaxing in one of the corner booths. Marlene is sitting, bored, by the coffee bar, twisting and turning on her bar stool with her cheek cupped loosely in her palm. She straightens when she sees him, and blinks herself out of her stupor at the stupid grin that uncharacteristically stretches his face.
She silently reads Lily's swirly handwriting as she absently wipes away the flour smudges adorning a corner on the back of the torn notepad paper. He knows what's written in there, and as expected as Marlene's grumpy look is, he still finds it extremely funny.
I told you I'd be right :D You owe me a night of closing duty, and since I'm going with Remus to pick him out something date-appropriate to wear, consider this me cashing it in tonight. Have fun!
P.S. - Empty the grinder out properly, Marls. I'll be checking tomorrow ;)
"At least someone's happy," Marlene sulks, pouting at him, but when she looks up at him, he can see the fondness in her dark eyes. She flips her blonde-tipped hair and turns away jerkily, but he catches the edge of a barely-there smile on her lips through the whirlwind of motion.
The smile on his face doesn't fall off all night.
.oOo.
Remus stands in front of the mirror, looking over his outfit for what feels like the hundredth time. He's wearing the clothes Lily had picked for him two nights ago—a simple navy blue button down, tucked in, and a pair of fitted grey trousers. She had dug all the way to the back of his wardrobe, vehemently rejecting every article of clothing he had without explanation till she found the blue shirt she had given him on one of his birthdays.
It looks good, objectively—the dark blue goes well against the light grey of his pants, and the wide black belt he usually reserves for formal occasions sits trim on his hips. It looks good; it just doesn't look like him.
He feels like an impersonator, a circus clown disguised in business casual.
He doesn't like it.
He's wearing what probably must be the only two items in his closet that hasn't come from a second-hand shop. He should feel confident, being this poshed up, but instead, he just feels like a fool. He still has a whole thirty minutes longer to get ready before he needs to leave if he wants to make it to L'Angelo delle Delizie before seven—he had just gotten too impatient to wait.
He eyes his favourite jumper where it sits on its rack. Should he try it on? He feels so pretentious dressed like this, and there's no harm in trying, is there?
He should try it on.
He feels comforted the second his fingers graze over the warm red fabric. The sweater is a lovely bright shade of red, and it always lifts his mood when the colour catches his eye. It'll go well with the blue shirt, he thinks, and yes, when he pulls it over his head and smoothes it over, the red does set off the dark blue—marvellously so. And this way, he keeps his promise to Lily to wear her picks.
He smiles at his reflection in the mirror, and instantly feels like himself.
It is quite a rush to wear store bought clothes, Remus surmises, but nothing feels like home better than his second-hand collection. It's not that he cannot afford to buy proper clothes—Lily pays him far above the standard barista's salary for his work as their book-keeper, but with all the money going for his mum's care and into his savings, he doesn't feel like breaking his routine of careful spending.
He smiles at himself once again, then nods decisively at the mirror. There's no sense in puttering around the empty apartment when he's in this state. He may as well take a stroll outside and get some fresh air to calm his nerves before he is to meet Sirius.
He puts on his watch and his best shoes, combs his hair neatly a final time, and grabs his keys to head out.
.oOo.
Sirius stands under the awning outside L'Angelo delle Delizie, breathing in the cool evening air as he takes in the sights of the people walking past him. It's getting dark out, the sky a dreary mix of darkened grey and blue. The air is moist, but the streets are spotlessly dry, and Sirius relishes the rarity of an entire day without even so much as a drizzle.
He plays with the cuffs of his thick long-sleeved button down as he waits for his date. He sees a number of coats dotted around in the lazy evening crowd, but he prefers to feel the feather-light touches of coolness brushing against his skin this early in October. With nothing else to do, he stands in his corner and people-watches.
It's his own fault, really, for being this impatient. Sirius had his doubts at first, about Remus' reception of his feelings, but he now knows that Remus would be just as eager to be here right now—the look in Remus' gorgeous amber eyes when he said yes was a testament to his willingness to this date. Unlike Sirius, however, he'd be more likely to hold it in and resist the temptation to be at this restaurant a whole half hour earlier. Unlike Sirius, he had more self-control.
Although, Sirius wonders if Remus is taking a walk somewhere around London at this very moment, to work off the edge. He seems the type to compromise with himself.
Sirius wonders what Remus looks like out of uniform. He has never seen the man in anything but his light green shirt and red apron, but it hasn't exactly been a hardship to see Remus in his work outfit. The pastel green highlights his lovely eyes and sandy hair, and the red apron sets off his pale complexion wonderfully.
Idly, Sirius muses over which other colours would look as good on Remus. Navy? Olive? Some brown tones? He's an artist, it's what he does. He has made peace with his obsession over colour-combinations a long time ago. Ooh, dark red, definitely. Remus would look good in maroon. Or even a burgundy scarf…
Sirius glances at his watch again. Six thirty-seven. Of course.
Why hadn't he just gone to the nearest park to wait out the minutes like Remus would have done?
Leaning back against the wall, he looks around at the people on the street. He loves watching out for the most ironic ones. Like the bulky woman in the obnoxiously large coat, toting a tiny studded handbag only slightly bigger than her fairly large hand as she laughs along with a man half her size. He loves seeing scenes like these—so ironic, so diverse, and yet so genuine.
A woman about his age walks her dog further down the street, looking longingly at the shining gems in the display of a jewellery store even as she's pulled along by the giant Mastiff. A young teenage couple window-shops up and across, each with an ice-cream cone in one hand, despite the chilly weather, and holding hands with the other, despite their pink cheeks and avoiding gazes. A middle-aged man with hair messier than Sirius' best friend James' rat's nest walks up the road with a bag of takeaway in hand, wearing the world's thickest, lumpiest looking Dad-sweater, and shorts, of all things.
Soon enough, the streetlights flick on one by one. He continues to survey the street, watching the ladies' clothing store across from where he stands and the people who walk in and out its doors. There are quite a few couples, and even more women. He silently observes the mother-daughter duo who make their way into the department store, the mother dragging in her pouting little girl by the hand.
One man walks in alone, coming out roughly ten minutes later empty handed and with an expression so utterly baffled that Sirius could only guess as to what the man had been looking for. He chuckles at the conclusion his mind draws.
When he checks his watch again, the hands show the time as six fifty-six.
Sirius scans the street again, this time looking out for someone more specific. Remus is a stickler for punctuality—he had told Sirius so himself. Remus wouldn't be late for their first date, would he?
It's astounding how quickly darkness falls once the skies dim enough. Within a minute, his clear vision is hindered by shadows, and he can only see through the light of the streetlamps. Still, he knows who to look for, so he can glance around, subtly scanning the place without fear of his eagerness being noticed.
His focused gaze settles on someone a distance away, and his eyes cannot look away.
Oh heavens, who is that?
The man—it's obviously a man, his height and gait very clearly say so—sports the most ridiculously coloured sweater Sirius' sorry eyes have been forced to ever witness in his life. The man's face is shrouded by shadows, and frankly, Sirius is surprised that the bottom of his face isn't lit up by the glow of the sheer vibrancy of the sweater's colour.
The man's jumper is red. Very, very red. It's the brightest, most ghastly shade of vermilion Sirius has ever seen—the exact shade of a traffic light. Why, the colour is so bright, it could easily be mistaken for a walking backlit stop sign.
Sirius bites his lip, attempting to look away. Just as he's almost successful in tearing his eyes away, the man comes close enough for his features to be lit by a pool of yellowish light from the streetlight above.
"… Remus?" Sirius whispers to himself incredulously.
That's… that right there is Remus Lupin, clad in a red traffic light sweater and what looks to be a pair of grey trousers. His Remus. Wearing that.
Oh, boy.
Remus smiles a little nervously when he spots him, waving a little from where he stands across the street. Sirius smiles weakly and waves back.
He waits patiently for Remus to cross the street. After all, it isn't like he'd be able to lose sight of him, would he?
When Remus reaches him, he smiles brightly. "Hey, Sirius," he greets shyly, and with that undertone of nervousness in Remus' soft voice, how could Sirius ever say anything about the man's current wardrobe choice?
"You look brilliant," Sirius greets back, wholly sincere. Remus himself looks very dashing, with his hair neatly combed and his smile so genuine, and that red sweater really cannot be called anything better than… brilliant.
Remus looks down at himself quickly, blushing, and as wonderful as the sight is to see, Sirius cannot help but question how it is that Remus doesn't have to blink back spots of light swimming in his vision when he looks back up. That sweater is just… so, so bright.
They exchange pleasantries before they enter the restaurant. Sirius has already booked a table for them inside, but he couldn't bear to treat this date with such formality after their five months of friendship, which is why he had asked Remus to meet him outside. It seems that Sirius had made a good decision—Remus is already settling into the comfort of their dynamic, and Sirius has had a clear enough warning about the horrendous sweater that he is coherent enough now to make sensible conversation.
Trying to be the gentleman, Sirius pulls open the door for Remus, gesturing to him to enter first. He grins at Remus' resulting smile, feeling pleased with himself. He's rewarded by the sight of that oh-so-lovely view as Remus walks ahead, but not even the sight of Remus' wonderful behind can distract him from the sweater that sits just above.
When they're seated at their table, however, Sirius spies the navy blue shirt peeking out at the collar of the jumper.
Ahh, that makes sense, then. Remus had originally paired the blue with the grey trousers. The red must have just been thrown on in a split-second decision.
So, his crush doesn't have a disastrous fashion sense, then. He's just colourblind.
Sirius could work with that. After all, Remus Lupin is, otherwise, a pretty flawless specimen.
.oOo.
"So. That went well."
Sirius looks up at his roommate and best friend from his position on the couch. James gazes back curiously.
"Well?" James questions when Sirius doesn't offer up anything in response. "Nothing to say?"
"Say about what?" Sirius replies with a cheeky grin.
James narrows his gaze, his bright hazel eyes forming into slits behind round glasses. "Sirius," he starts, his tone a mix between a growl and a whine, "I'm the one who had to watch you moon over Remus the Barista. I'm the one who had to listen to you wax poetic about Remus the Barista. I'm the one to get you to ask Remus the Barista out again. I'm the one who'll have to soon hear your sorry arse whining, 'Why won't he call? James, does he hate me?' I'm the one who's doing all this out of the goodness of my heart."
Sirius blinks.
"Will you just tell me everything already!" James finally explodes. "You've been sitting on the bloody couch for ages and haven't said a word!"
Sirius grins brightly. "Aww, of course, James! All you had to do was ask nicely."
James glowers. Sirius ignores him.
"It was amazing," he sighs, leaning back against the stuffed backrest. "He's so gorgeous, James. And smart and funny, and he has the most adorable smile—"
"I've heard all that," James impatiently waves him off, crossing his arms over his chest. "For five months, in fact. Tell me about tonight."
"Okay, okay," Sirius says, grinning lazily. "Don't get your knickers in a knot, now."
James raises an eyebrow silently. It would be intimidating, if not for the unruly mess of black hair that halos his face.
"It was… pretty good, Jamie," he says, looking up at where his best friend looms over him. James Potter raises the other brow.
"Okay, fine, it was fantastic," Sirius doesn't take long to cave, now letting himself look openly besotted. James grins widely in reply.
"Yeah?" James prompts, seeming pleased with himself.
Sirius hums, smiling at the thought of their date. "The restaurant was perfect, like I thought it'd be. Just cozy enough, but not overdone, and he looked comfortable in there. The food was great, and God, mate, we just couldn't stop talking. It was like afternoons at Red Magnolia, but in a low-lit setting and with more food."
James frowns. "It felt like two friends catching up in a romantic restaurant? That sounds pretty awkward to me."
Sirius smiles dreamily, "It wasn't awkward at all, Jamie. It was comfortable, and relaxing and just… easy."
"Hmm, why don't you take it from the top? Start at the beginning."
Sirius settles in, wiggling into a more comfortable position. "Okay, so, he was right on time—a few minutes early, in fact—and we met right outside the restaurant like we planned. He wore this really terrible sweater, but that's okay, because I realised that it probably might just be a one-time thing. He said I looked handsome. He called me handsome, Jamie! Then we went inside and sat down, and he said that he'd never had proper Italian before, so I made him order the bolognese, because everyone knows that's the ultimate Italian cuisine…"
Asking Remus on that date had been the best decision he has made in the past five months.
Sirius has never had this much fun on a date before, he's sure of it. Remus is always a wonder to be around, but tonight, Remus Lupin had been all his, and he never realised the difference between the Remus he gets in the bakery and this Remus, the one he has had all to himself. Having Remus' undivided attention focused on nothing but him was a reward in itself, one he has all too quickly learned to appreciate.
He hadn't lied—dinner with Remus was almost exactly like their conversations in Red Magnolia. He had felt transported, like if he would just blink his eyes and look around again he would see the red leather booths and checkered black and white flooring of the vintage-themed bakery. Conversations flowed smooth and easy, and they never once ran out of things to say. He had almost laughed his head off when Remus recounted his latest tussle with his sloppy roommate, Peter Pettigrew. A elderly couple seated at a neighbouring table had stared at them with disdain, but neither he nor Remus had cared one whit for their judgement.
They had stayed back for dessert, sharing an overly large slice of chocolate cake between them, and as fun as it was to dig their spoons into the spongy cake and eat off the same plate, it was even more fun for him to watch Remus go to town on the chocolate, devouring every bite and scrounging for more. Sirius had left him most of the cake, and Remus' shining eyes and grateful grin only made him want to devour Remus instead.
They had fought over the bill—it was them, they had to argue over something—and Remus made him promise to let him get the next one when he successfully wrestled it away from the other man. He had acted all nonchalant about it, of course, but secretly, he had been stopping himself from grinning like a fool because everything Remus said and did was just so adorable.
When they finally burst out the door with full bellies and wide smiles, he had felt a buzz much like that from a glass or two of good wine—which completely belied the lack of alcohol they had ordered with their meal. The high he felt had nothing to do with liquor; it had been all Remus.
He walked Remus home, the two of them bumping elbows as they strolled down the streets to Remus' neighbourhood. It had been a whole twenty minute walk to Remus' place, but they both agreed that they needed the exercise after the meal they'd had, and well, Sirius would never say no to an excuse to spend more time with Remus.
He had left Remus at the stoop to an apartment building in a neighbourhood significantly more rundown than the area of the restaurant they had dined in, but the place had looked safe enough, and the area had been completely clean. Remus had looked so much at home there, and the tension that Sirius hadn't even realised had been in his shoulders had given way.
"… and then I kissed him goodnight—don't look at me like that, Jamie, it was completely chaste—and I left and took the bus here. I would've deepened it but that sweater distracted me, and Remus blinked his eyes and looked so cuddle-able and I had to leave it there or I'd want to take him upstairs and get in his bed and that just wouldn't do, this early in the game."
James makes a face at that, but he doesn't notice.
"He's so gorgeous, Jamie," Sirius sighs breathily, "With the eyes and the hair and the smile and the everything… he looked so perfect tonight. I just wish he had taken off the sweater and let me admire him better—I bet that blue shirt he had on would have made his skin positively glow…"
"You really didn't like that sweater, didn't you?" James says wryly, interrupting his fantasies.
"What?"
"Well, you did only mention that sweater he wore about seven times during the story," James answers him, quirking a brow. "What was so bad about it that you're still hung up over the thing?"
"It wasn't that bad!" Sirius defends himself. "It was just… a really bright red."
The other eyebrow goes up. "How bright?" Sirius bites his lip, and James narrows his eyes in response. "You're high-maintenance about a lot of things, Sirius, but clothing isn't usually something you're that picky about. So, come on, spill."
"Well…" He tries to draw out his reply, but James is having none of it. "It reminded me of a stop sign, actually." A pause. "The glowy, fluorescent kind."
James grimaces.
And looking back, he can see how James must have picked up on his aversion to the sweater. He must have mentioned it a few too many times as he recounted their date to his best friend. Besides, he had stood right next to a traffic light during his wait at the intersection for the bus home, and he's pretty sure, now that he thinks about it, that a violently red stop light should not remind him of his soon-to-be boyfriend.
He's sure it has to be a one-off, though. Surely Remus' taste can't be that bad all the time?
"It isn't a bad thing, though, really," Sirius says to James. He doesn't know if he's consoling himself or his best friend, but either way, it's working. "I'm sure it's just a one-off."
Yeah, that's what it is. A one-off.
.oOo.
It's not a one-off.
Sirius had been well on his way to figuring it out by their second date, had successfully come to this conclusion by their third, and every date after that was just a repeat of Remus' horrendous fashion taste mocking his revelation in increasingly taunting ways.
Two months down the line, and Sirius is thoroughly fed up of being taunted.
He had almost lost it at the bright yellow shirt Remus had sported one day—there were doodles of bananas all across the fabric in darker yellow, and each one gleamed in the darkness of the theater as bright as the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of his niece's bedroom.
Dora loves shiny things, but he had never once caught her attempting to attach glowy stickers to her clothes. He never realised how mature his five year old niece truly was. He had even brought her a nice big purple race car the next day as a reward, staying back to make sure she didn't plaster any smiley-face stickers onto it.
Remus' style choices aren't always a bad thing, though. Sirius has lost count of the number of times his mind has veered off the rail at the sight of his boyfriend in one of those adorably dorky sweater-vests or cardigans. It's an experience to savour every time he turns to find Remus all wrapped up in his bundles of fabric. Remus is just so adorable.
What's even better, is that Remus has absolutely no clue the power he holds over Sirius when he's dressed like that. Sirius is absolutely gone for the man every time he so much as scrunches his nose. Remus is just as perfect as he dreamed the man would be, and their relationship is so much better than what he had hoped for—they have the same strong friendship from their bakery-only days, but with a whole spectrum of date-settings, wholly resolved chemistry, and a lot more kissing. There's nothing he loves more than snuggling with his boyfriend into the ratty old couch in Remus shoebox apartment with a good movie on tape, a big homemade bowl of stew to share and a thick blanket to keep warm under.
There are days like this, though, when he doesn't feel as inclined to coo over Remus' terrible fashion choices.
He's in Red Magnolia again—surprisingly, he's spent even more time in the little bakery since he started dating Remus. He likes both Lily and Marlene, and they let him stay in his claimed red booth for as long as he needs. He still takes advantage of the calming setting at Red Magnolia primarily by using it to do his design work, but now he also drops in every now and then when he particularly misses his gorgeous boyfriend.
Today is a Saturday, Remus' half-day, but the man had decided to stay on for a couple more hours to keep him and the girls company while Sirius touches up his latest commission and they take inventory. He's not wearing his uniform today, and in his already agitated state, the cardigan Remus sports is doing something terrible to Sirius' brain.
Calling the past week a bad one was putting it lightly. He's had everything that could possibly go wrong go even wronger, and sitting in his booth with a near-finished sketch of a complex logo design he absolutely hates, a submission deadline he's far too close to nudging, his last clean shirt, his least favourite jacket (his leather one needs to be steam cleaned), three stubbed toes, a stuffy tongue still burned from the terrible coffee James had thrust on him in the morning, and a short chunk cut off from the left side of his usually perfect hair, he is very much not in the mood to appreciate the paw prints on Remus' torso.
Exactly. Paw prints.
Sirius has learned of Remus' fondness for the colour brown quite early in the game. Surprising, considering his general penchant for bright colours, but Sirius has learned to roll with it. In the seven months he has known Remus, he's realised that his boyfriend will never stop being an enigma.
So yes, when Remus had turned up to the arcade Sirius once took him to for fun in a brown shirt, brown pants, a brown coat with brown patches, a brown scarf with red polka dots and a brown beanie, Sirius was very aware that Remus did indeed like the colour brown. But for some reason, it's the brown cardigan with solid black paw print patterns all over that Remus sports today that makes his blood boil with… something. Something bad.
Maybe it's the way the pawprints look impossibly like hands through peripheral vision—hands all over his boyfriend. After the week he's had, he is very much not okay with the idea of foreign hands touching his Remus, and yes, he's feeling possessive and jealous and its unwarranted, because he knows that Remus is his, but there are filthy black handprints all over his man and they just won't go away and if he clutches the pen in his hand any tighter, he's going to break something and have another ink-spill ruin all his hard work for the week. Again.
His frustration is mounting and mounting, and he's starting to seriously consider strategising for a mission to change Remus' wardrobe to something that doesn't include paw prints, garish patterns, the violently bright cyan coloured beanie left for him to guard while Remus fixes up the coffee machine, or brown. Absolutely no brown.
"You okay?" Marlene asks with a little smirk as she comes over with a refill of his coffee. He instantly takes a sip, and even though the hot liquid burns his tongue again, this time it's worth it.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he responds, but the twitch in his left hand says otherwise. Marlene shoots his hand a mocking glance and an even more mocking brow, and he sighs at her knowing smile.
"Bad day?" she asks, resting her hip against the side of his table.
"Bad week, more like," he answers, and she nods sympathetically.
"You've been staring at Remus more than usual today," she observes before her expression turns cheeky, "Need some alone-time with him? I can get Lils to send him home, and you can get him to cheer you up." The way she waggles her dark eyebrows reminds him so much of himself that he can't help an involuntary laugh.
"I don't need your help to score with my own boyfriend, McKinnon," he tells her with a grin. "Go proposition some other poor bloke."
"Eh, you love me," she answers with a shrug, and even as he rolls his eyes, he doesn't deny her declaration.
She grins, and leans further against the table, crossing her arms.
"Nice jeans." He nods to fitted jeans with the swirling designs along the sides half-hidden under her apron, and she instinctively looks down at them herself, "Added that design yourself?"
"Oooh, thanks," she replies when she looks back up, smiling happily, "And no, I got these from a charity sale. The swirls are pretty nifty, eh?"
He startles, blinking. "Charity sale? Like, at a charity shop?"
"Uh huh," she nods, "the one Remus goes to, actually. It's got some really cute stuff."
It takes everything in him to tamp down a scoff. "You got this from the same place where Remus gets his clothes?"
She cocks her head at the incredulity in his voice, and her face smooths out into a mischievous smile. "You don't like Remus' clothes, pretty boy?"
Sirius splutters. "I—well—it's nice—they're not—that bad—"
"Don't worry, none of us do," she lowers her voice with a soft laugh. "His sense of style is… quirky at best. He gets it from his mum."
Sirius sighs, relieved that she isn't mad. "I thought all charity shop clothes are like that," he confesses.
She laughs again. "Oh, you rich boys are hilarious!" He frowns, but he knows that she doesn't mean anything insulting by it. "Don't worry, they're generally pretty normal. You can get some real good steals there if you keep an eye out for them. They're like any other store, really."
"So, the bright colours aren't signature charity store style?" he ventures hesitantly.
She snorts. "Nope, that's just Remus' style. Lily and I tried to get him to wear normal clothes for years, but he just doesn't budge. We let it go after a while; it makes him happy." She shrugs. "Who are we to change him?"
Sirius starts at that. There's truth in Marlene's words—he's wondered what it would be like to see Remus in 'normal' clothes, but who is he to change his boyfriend? He looks over at Remus where he diligently focuses on the coffee grind as he does his quick routine maintenance—he's smiling at something Lily says, looking happy and carefree and completely at ease, and in that second, Sirius sees the beauty in Remus, in his quirky clothes and terribly fashion sense and his fearless, straight-forward way of expressing himself.
Remus isn't perfect, but there's just as much beauty in his flaws.
Marlene leaves to join Lily behind the counter, and he stares at her retreating back and smiles.
"You're right," he murmurs to himself. He pulls up the beginnings of the plans he's been forming to get Remus to change his style—something involving gifts, he thinks, but his brain's too fuzzy on the details now—and pictures himself lighting a flame to those terrible ideas and burning them to ashes. "This is never gonna work."
He gathers up his notebook and pencils and sweeps them all into his shoulder bag. He stands up and drains his coffee in a single gulp, uncaring of the burn. Grabbing Remus' cyan-blue beanie, he strides up to his boyfriend and, not giving Remus a chance to greet him or voice his surprise, turns him around to fully face him and pulls him into a deep kiss.
"Hey," he breathes when they pull away, and Remus blinks slowly, staring back.
"What was that for?" Remus whispers, and he grins softly at how his boyfriend forgets to scold him over the public display. Not that there's anyone else around at this hour. Just them.
"Nothing," he murmurs, still smiling, "you're just too perfect to resist."
Remus doesn't seem to buy it. "Sirius?"
"Don't worry about it," he smiles, pulling Remus closer. "I had an idea, and now I have a better one. What say we get out of here and do something fun with your day off, hmm?"
Remus narrows his eyes, but grins back in response. "I suppose I can grill you about this later," he says, the tiniest hint at a smirk teasing the edges of his mouth. "What do you have in mind?"
"Hmm," Sirius pretends to think, leaning against the counter, his back digging into the till, "I was thinking we could go to a museum. Maybe the arcade again?"
"Really?"
"Or… we could go up to my place and play a game of our own…"
Remus doesn't respond, just runs around to the back, grabs his satchel, and throws out the quickest goodbye Sirius has ever witnessed to Lily and Marlene. They grin as they wave back.
"What are we waiting for? Let's go."
Sirius laughs and pulls Remus out the door by the hand, feeling the scratchy soft material of his boyfriend's paw print cardigan on the edge of him palm. He squeezes the hand in his tight.
As the bell to Red Magnolia Bakery tinkles over their heads, Remus laughs giddily with him, and Sirius thinks that he has never heard a sound that sweet.
November Writing Club:
Character Appreciation (Doctor Who): Fourth Doctor - Item: Scarf
Record Collection (Mayday Parade - A Lesson In Romantics): If You Wanted a Song Written About You, All You Had to Do Was Ask: (color) grey
Time Machine (November: Birthday of Bram Stroker): Restriction: Write a story that is part of a multichapter project (drabble collections count) [BONUS]
Book Club (This Lie Will Kill You - Chelsea Pitcher): Septimus Warren Smith: (plot point) dreaming, (trait) apprehensive, (word) freedom, (character) Remus Lupin
Showtime (Funny Girl): You Are Woman, I Am Man: (action) eating
Amber's Attic: Tea, coffee, cocoa, cider… hot drinks are best drinks: (au) coffee shop
Elizabeth's Empire (Baking): Coffee cake: (au) coffee shop
Liza's Loves (Dungeons & Dragons): Circle of Wildfire - Enhanced Bond - Write about people bonding with other people/animals/whatever
Bex's Basement (Thorpe Park): Storm in a teacup: Write about something being blown out of proportion
Lizzy's Loft (Unus Annus): (relationship) Friends
Angel's Archives (Giving Thanks): [(genre) fluff] alt. (character) Angelina Johnson
Scamander's Case (Trolls): (color) green
Film Festival (Howl's Moving Castle): (color) black
Marvel Appreciation (Avengers A): X - X-Men / [Write about a first kiss.]
Lyric Alley ("Harder to Love" by The Trews): In the dim lit shadows of the after hours
TV Spree (Riverdale Season 1): Write a slash couple
The Forecast Says: 18th. Icy: Bakery
Autumn Seasonal Challenges:
Days of the Year & Religious Events: 18th December - Bake Cookies Day: Bakery!AU
National Pizza Month: Feta Cheese: Didn't Know They Were Dating
Sarcasm Month: (dialogue) "Just because you can, doesn't mean you should."
Native American History Month: Wilma Mankiller - Write about a difficult obstacle being overcome.
Get Organised Week: (word) Neat
Pet Peeves Week: Loud hold music - Trait: impatient
Chemistry Week: Lutetium: Lighthearted
Games & Puzzles Week: Action - Laughing
Family Day: Mummy's Boy
United Nations Day: India - (Trope) Friends to Lovers
Princess Day: Lumpy Space Princess - Write about someone acting dramatically
Colour Prompts: Vermilion
Flower Prompts: Dahlia: (dialogue) "You're the only one who can help me."
Gemstones: Coral: Write about someone undergoing a transformation
Tarot Reading: Page of Wands, upright: Write about someone finding a way to express their individuality.
November Fortnightlies:
Folding Fun: (Step 1) Paper - Plain Brown: (food) chocolate
Scorpio Appreciation: Observant - Write about seeing something that most people don't [BONUS: Sirius Black]
Hogwarts Talent Show:
Cake Decorating:
AU: Baker!AU
Dialogue: "Why won't he/she/they call?"
Emotion: Happy
Item: Glasses
Word: Cave
Cliche Away (November Monthly): Cliches used:
Character A is in love with their best friend.
Character C plays matchmaker for Characters A and B.
Character A is an artist/musician/writer who has lost their inspiration.
Character A is a barista. Character B is the customer who's always flirting with them (or vice versa).
All Aboard (November Monthly):
Blue Train (Emotions): Jealous
Honeydukes Hoarder (November Monthly):
Hard Candy: Sociable