Sirius opened the door, bracing for the wave of stale, rancid air that greeted him every time he returned to his flat. Instead, a clean, fresh scent enveloped him. He frowned, sniffing the air, and stepped around the grease-stained pizza boxes stacked in the entryway — except they weren't there. Neither were the beer cans or cigarette packets or his collection of empty Ogden's bottles. He scanned the wall for the faded spray of beer, a reminder of the can he had flung the first time he had automatically pulled two cigarettes from the packet before realizing he and Mary would never smoke together again. His mouth fell open as he gazed at the flat. The accumulated filth had been scrubbed away and Vanished, leaving behind only that pleasant, unidentifiable scent.

"Moony?"

Remus poked his head out from the kitchen, a glass and a dishrag in his hand. "How'd you know it was me?"

Sirius sank into one of the kitchen chairs, glad not to have to move a copy of the Prophet or a dirty t-shirt so he could sit down.

"Well, I don't have a house elf, Prongs and Evans are caring for a newborn, and Pete wouldn't have the guts to do all of this behind my back." He sniffed the air again. "What's that smell?"

Remus smiled and leaned against the refrigerator. "Air freshening charm. You should learn how to do it."

Sirius tipped back in his chair. "Why bother when you're so good at it?" His eyes slid to the glass in Remus's hand. "You washed my Chudley Cannons glass?"

Remus rolled his eyes and set the glass on the table. "Pete wouldn't let me throw it away — he was here earlier, helping me clean. That glass had about three week's worth of mold growing in it, but I think I've made it fit for human use again."

Sirius traced the faded Cannons logo on the glass. Years ago he and Mary had shared a bottle of elf-made wine in these same glasses, spilling blood red droplets on the sheets as they lounged in bed, wearing nothing but wine-stained smiles. He could hear the rain on the roof and feel Mary's cold feet pressed against his leg; he could taste the sweetness of the wine and the stale chocolate bar they had found on the floor of his bedroom. The memory was so vivid that Sirius half-expected Mary to come around the corner in her red leather jacket, laughing and making a teasing comment about the tacky Cannons glasses.

"Hey." Remus touched Sirius's shoulder, dissolving the memory. "You alright?"

Sirius laughed, a sharp, mirthless laugh that hurt his chest. "I'm going to punch the next person who asks me that fucking question."

Remus slid into an empty chair and fixed him with that stubborn Remus Lupin look that drove Sirius mad. "That wasn't an answer."

"I'm fine. I'm great. I'm fucking fantastic." Sirius itched for a cigarette, but he resisted the urge. Somehow it seemed wrong to pollute the fresh lemon scent with cigarette smoke.

Remus raised his eyebrows. "No need for the snark, Padfoot."

"Then don't ask stupid fucking questions." He rose and opened a cabinet, then shut it in irritation and peered into the refrigerator. "If you threw out all my alcohol, I really am going to punch you."

Remus smiled wryly. "I drank it. You expect me to deal with moldy glasses and your dirty pants sober?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Liar."

Remus shrugged. "I should have poured myself a drink. I found a fucking sandwich in your bed, Padfoot. A sandwich. And there was a rotten banana behind the rubbish bin that was all smeared into the rug, and you had four full ashtrays. What do you need four ashtrays for?"

Sirius shut the refrigerator and opened the oven. "The first one was full."

"Why are you looking in the oven?"
Sirius opened a cupboard full of pots and pans, then turned to shoot Remus an irritated look. "I'm looking for my fucking beverages, Moony. I know you think you're bloody clever for hiding them somewhere."

He peeked under the sink, moving aside a bottle of soap and a dried up sponge.

"You can stop searching like a lunatic. I'll tell you where I've hidden them, but first you're going to have a non-alcoholic beverage and some lemon drizzle cake."

Sirius emerged from the cabinet under the sink, scowling as he bumped his head on the way out. "I haven't got any lemon drizzle cake. I mostly just order a takeaway when I'm hungry."

"Yes, I gathered that from the twelve fucking pizza boxes I had to move to open your door." Remus got to his feet and shooed Sirius away from the cabinet he was about to open. Sirius attempted to open it again, but Remus held the door shut, that same stubborn look creasing his face.

"Sod off, Moony. This is my fucking kitchen. Don't be an arsehole."

Remus grinned. "I'm not being an arsehole. I'm being kind. Now get out of the way so I can make you some tea and cut you a piece of the cake Pete made for you."

He gestured to a covered plate on the counter that Sirius had missed in his frantic search for the alcohol. Laughing at Remus's exasperation, he returned to his seat, too pleased by the prospect of someone preparing food for him to argue.

"I almost threw this mug away, too," Remus confessed as he levitated two mugs of tea and a plate of lemon drizzle cake onto the table. "It was quite moldy. But it's too appropriate – I had to save it."

The chipped mug proclaimed I'M A GRUMPY ARSEHOLE BEFORE I'VE HAD COFFEE (and afterwards I'm still a grumpy arsehole) in large bubble letters. "Of course you couldn't throw it out," Sirius said." You gave me this mug." He frowned at the single plate of cake. "Aren't you having any?"

Remus slid into the empty chair and shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

"Rubbish." Sirius marched over to the cake and cut another slice, placing it on one of the newly-washed plates and jamming a fork in it before carrying it back to the table and plunking it down in front of Remus. "If I'm being forced to have a nice, wholesome, non-alcoholic meal, so are you. Eat, you skinny arsehole."

Remus opened his mouth to argue, but then a laugh bubbled from his lips. "Fair enough," he said, pulling the plate toward him and taking a bite.

They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their tea and working their way through the cake. When Sirius swallowed his last bite, Remus plopped another piece onto his plate without comment. Sirius ate it without complaint – it was good cake, and he hadn't eaten since breakfast, and anyway, he wasn't prepared to go up against the brick wall that was Remus Lupin when he got in one of his stubborn moods.

"God, Pete's good at baking," Sirius said, dropping his fork onto his plate and slouching down in his chair.

"I know." Remus brushed a crumb from his lip and cleaned the last bit of icing from his fork. "This cake is life-changing."

"And you weren't even going to have a piece." Sirius heaved a satisfied sigh, then glanced at his watch, already dreading the heavy silence and long, empty hours after Remus's departure.

"Yes, well, I suppose you're right once in a while. By the way, check your pants drawer."

Sirius frowned. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"Check your pants drawer," Remus repeated. "If you want your alcoholic beverages back."

Chuckling, Sirius padded into his bedroom and opened his drawer, pushing aside a pile of neatly-folded pants until he found two cans of beer and a half-empty bottle of Ogden's.

"You folded my pants?" Sirius demanded, returning to the kitchen with a beer in each hand and the Ogden's bottle tucked under his arm.

"What, was I supposed to just shove them in the drawer like a bloody animal?" Remus picked up the can Sirius had set in front of him and raised his eyebrows.

"You earned that," Sirius said, clinking his can against Remus's before cracking it open and gulping the fizzy, luke-warm beer. "It takes a special sort of friend to fold a man's pants."

"Fair enough." Remus opened his beer and took a sip, scrutinizing Sirius over the top of his can. "How are you really, Padfoot?"

Sirius shook his head. "No."

"That wasn't a yes or no question."

Sirius twisted the tab from his can and chucked it at Remus's forehead. "I meant, no, I'm not fucking doing that. I just ate two pieces of Pete's life-changing cake, and for once my flat doesn't smell like Mundungus Fletcher's arse, and I got to hold my godson earlier, and it's a fucking good day, and I'm not bringing down the mood by answering a question you already know the answer to."

Remus bent to retrieve the tab and twirled it between his fingers. "I'm not going to bother asking how you know what Dung's arse smells like. Alright, have it your way, you grumpy arsehole, but you know I'm only a floo call away if you need anything."

"Hell, I don't even need to bother with a floo call," Sirius said, grinning. "You have no problem showing up uninvited and calling me a grumpy arsehole."

Remus tapped the side of the mug. "It's on the mug. It must be true." He drained the rest of his beer, and Sirius's chest ached; he knew Remus would go home soon, leaving Sirius with nothing but the bottle of Ogden's to distract him. "There's a Cannons match tonight, right?"

Sirius snorted with laughter. "What do you care? You hate Quidditch."

Remus shrugged. "It's not my favorite, but I do enjoy watching you shout at the wireless when the Cannons botch a match, which they do quite often, don't they?"

"Sod you." Sirius drummed his fingers against his empty beer can and glanced sideways at Remus. "But, you know, if you want to listen to me swear at the wireless, you're welcome to stay. We can get a pizza or something."

"Brilliant, you can start a new empty pizza box collection." Remus flashed him a teasing grin, then darted sideways to avoid the beer can Sirius threw at him. "Fuck you, Padfoot, I just cleaned those floors."

Sirius waved his wand, Vanishing the can and the droplets of beer spattering the floor. "Calm your tits." He crossed the room to flick on the wireless, then returned to his seat as the pre-match chatter filled the room. Words hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't shake them loose. He poured a generous measure of Ogden's into his empty mug and drank half of it down, and only then could he force the words out. "Thanks, Moony."

Remus shrugged, a simple gesture that dismissed his hours of scrubbing and folding and Vanishing a month's worth of beer cans and Marlboro packets. "You can thank me by sharing some of that firewhisky so you don't drink the entire bottle yourself. No, let me get a clean glass – that mug still has tea in it, you bloody weirdo."

Sirius grinned and Summoned the second Chudley Cannons glass from the cupboard, splashing firewhisky into it and looking forward to an evening of Quidditch, more lemon drizzle cake, and Remus's company.