Thank you for your nice comments Lupinesence, Heid and ! & follows ily all.
/
The next day, Remus almost forgot that he'd hired a leather clad stranger on a whim the night before. Once Sirius had left the bakery, Remus had been there until early morning, baking and clearing and cleaning. So it wasn't a surprise when he woke up the next morning, after barely any sleep at all, and jumped back into his routine in a daze.
Actually, it was Lily who reminded him that last night had even happened. If it hadn't been for her waltzing into the shop at half seven, he would've assumed it was a dream he conjured up after staying awake for too long, he'd probably fallen asleep while baking.
"How did it go, then?" she asked with a wide, knowing smile. And then it all came back to him.
Remus glanced at the clock and frowned. He was sure he'd told Sirius to be here at seven, hadn't he? Why would someone so eager to get a job arrive late on his first day?
"Yeah," he replied, only half paying attention to her. Shaking his head in an attempt to return to the present, he sighed. "It was fine."
"Well did you hire him?" From the twinkle in her eye, Remus thought Lily had already decided the answer to that question, so he just turned to one of the cabinets and began to take out her usual order of cakes. "When's he getting here, then? I would've thought you'd have him here at the crack of dawn, knowing you."
"I did."
Puzzled, Lily's eyes darted towards the door that led into the back of the shop. "Where is he then?"
Remus shrugged. "I don't know."
Pitiful silence, Remus thought. He hated it when Lily got all quiet, her eyes searching, as though she could feel everything you were feeling. And honestly, she was being very dramatic about it.
"Don't look at me like that," he paused to meet her eyes, let her know that it really didn't mean that much to him. "He's half an hour late, not two years."
"Why would he be late?" Lily demanded, the words bursting from her lips, arms flailing out in exasperation. "I don't understand. Marlene told me he was reliable and trustworthy. I thought this would be good for the bakery! For you!"
Shaking his head, Remus regarded her with a look that told her he thought she was ridiculous. He held out the box of cupcakes to her and forced a small smile, just for reassurance. "It's half seven, Lily. Give it some time."
Which he, himself, tried to do. Eight o'clock came past, the hands of the clock creeping along menacingly, and customers began to roll in one by one. Today wasn't cold and wet, like yesterday. As unpredictable as the English weather can be, the sun had decided to shine brightly upon the bakery, covering the pastries in a warm golden light.
Nine.
Half nine. Seriously? This was beginning to get ridiculous. If Sirius hadn't wanted the job, why hadn't he just said and saved Remus the trouble? Why had he gone and baked cookies? Or if he just hadn't wanted to arrive so early, he could've just said. Want to get there at nine? Sure! Lunch time? Whatever! Remus was a really terrible boss, come to think of it.
In fact, the real question was, the one that was tugging at the back of his mind but he refused to allow to surface, why was Remus so bothered?
/
Ten o'clock.
It was the roar of a motorbike that he heard first, his eyes automatically finding the door as he scooped a couple croissants into a bag and handed them to his customer. He was distracted as he exchanged money and change, almost forgetting a quick 'thank you, goodbye!' as they left out the door.
Then it was the leather and the hair. Leather, in this weather? In the blistering heat? If Sirius showed up, already late, and polluted Remus's bakery with the stench of sweat then he swore to God-
"Hi." Apologetic. Red-faced. Out of breath. He stood at the front of the shop attempting to smile but only succeeding in an odd sort of grimace.
"I thought you were never going to show up." As Remus said it, he sent a stern look Sirius's way, but pulled out two cupcakes from the display and walked them round to the table by the door.
"I'm sorry - something came up, and I couldn't get away from it," he stammered, a hand reaching up to scratch nervously at the back of his neck.
Remus slid one of the cakes in Sirius's direction, gesturing with a nod of his head for the other man to join him. "Try a ginger cake, they're a new recipe I'm trying."
Unsure and with wary eyes, Sirius slowly took a seat. He opened his mouth a couple times in an attempt to explain, but Remus waved his words away. To be fair, he did look sorry. He looked worn out, deep creases still present on his forehead. Whatever it had been that kept him from being here this morning, Remus trusted that it was unavoidable. He'd already let a stranger into his kitchen, it wasn't as though his abilities as a boss could get any worse from this point on.
"Just don't be late again, yeah?" he warned. "Next time you won't get a cupcake."
Something softened in Sirius's eyes. A wordless gratitude filled them.
"So about the work," Remus continued, clearing his throat as he set off into a tangent of how to efficiently clean the work surfaces and the cabinets, how to tell if something was out of date. He told him he wasn't going to be allowed to work the till, not yet, not until he proved that he was dedicated to the job. There were set times for him to arrive and leave, a payment set. Sirius seemed satisfied, soaking in the information keenly.
"What about the baking?" Was his only question.
Almost wincing - Remus was protective over that, over the most vital aspect of his business, the products - he nodded slowly. "I'll give you copies of the recipes, so you can try them. Simple things at first, like the cookies you made."
Understanding, Sirius also nodded. Then, after a moment of quiet, he cast his eyes to the door. "It's not very busy, here." True enough, small pockets of people had been passing by the bakery, but none had stopped. Remus gulped. "The food's nice." He held up his cake.
"Yeah," Remus said.
But Sirius was surveying the room now, tapping his fingers against the table. He seemed to be in deep thought. "I just," a long exhale. "Have you thought about, you know, revamping the place?"
Remus blinked.
"Nothing drastic," He added quickly. "I just think it could do with some new paint, or something. Maybe some more decoration."
A sharp feeling tugged at Remus's chest. The bakery hadn't been changed in years. He looked around and saw the place he grew up in, the cabinets that once held his parents' creations and the colours that set the backdrop of his growth.
"Let's just start from here, shall we?" he said quietly, and Sirius nodded.
/
Apparently Sirius really was sorry for being late, because he hadn't stopped working since he got there. Every time he was given a job to do - scrub the cabinets, put things out on display, he'd even let him back into the kitchen for a little while - he'd come bouncing back not long after, eager for more work.
It was quite amusing to watch, and fascinating, really, how Sirius never got tired. He'd take a miniscule break, sitting down for a moment, only to hop back up a moment later.
At around three that afternoon, a bell's chime signalled somebody's arrival. Sirius was in the back, studying through some recipes with his eyebrows tightly knit. At the front of the shop, Remus had just finished serving two separate groups of people - an old but cheery couple, and a group of young teenagers.
Of course it was Lily who he saw when his eyes whipped up to meet hers; and instantly, he could see the question in her eyes.
"Is he still not-"
"He's in the kitchen," Remus interrupted, his heart warm at the idea Lily had come back just to check on him. (Although it was also a little patronising, the way she kept turning up and trying to solve problems, like some sort of a mother.)
Relief washed over her face, a broad happiness filling up her eyes. Then it got wider, and wider, like blowing up a balloon, until Remus thought she might pop. "In your kitchen?"
Not many people were allowed into Remus's kitchen, it was true. There was something about Sirius, his persuasiveness, something that convinced him he was trustworthy enough to handle fire and eggs. Which, now that Remus thought about it, made no sense at all, because Sirius seemed like exactly the type of irresponsible person to throw eggs or purposely cause fire.
"In my kitchen," Remus repeated with a casual smile and a flippant gesture. "He makes alright cookies."
Lily raised an eyebrow, the kind of expression that meant she believed there was more to it.
"Did you come in for anything else?" Remus folded his arms across his body, twisting awkwardly on the spot. How did Lily always make him feel like he was standing under a spotlight? It was magical, really. But before she could respond, or leave and take with her the eyes that watched Remus so analytically, the sound of the door opening from behind him brought both of their eyes to a flour covered (head to toe, literally) Sirius Black into the shop with them.
And, as usual, he was wearing a massive grin. Of course.
"Is this Lily?" he asked excitedly, and was met with a questioning look. He moved his hands to wave about his head, yet careful not to touch his hair with flour ridden hands. Actually, it was amazing how he'd managed to miss his hair, considering the rest of him looked like a flour grenade had gone off. "The red hair. Bright red hair, right, Remus?"
He shoved the baker, sending a cloud of flour flying over him, which dusted his hair lightly.
"Is that my most distinguishing feature?"
"Yes," Remus replied, shaking his hair, the white sprinkles falling like snow onto the polished wood floor.
"That and your equally bright intellect, I believe. Oh, and what was it Remus? 'Solving the world's greatest-'"
Panicking and now blushing a deep scarlet, Remus grabbed the nearest pastry he could find and shoved it into Sirius's wide open mouth. "That's quite enough."
Lily had her eyebrows raised, a hand on her hip. Which, Remus recalled, was just what he'd done last night when he'd been doing his impression of her. Well, at least he made the effort to be accurate. She looked as though she might say something, but before the words could escape her lips there came another ring of the door and heavy footsteps into the room, Sirius's eyes growing wide and gleaming with some sort of overwhelming happiness.
"James!" He spat the pastry out into his hand (disgusting manners, Remus noted) and bounded over to the door, encasing the newcomer in a hug that might squeeze the life out of him.
James appeared to be a lanky man of around their age, though the childish look on his face (much like Sirius's) suggested his maturity didn't quite match up. His hair was a mess of unruly dark curls, his round glasses hanging lopsided on his nose. The pair of them seemed to light up, stood together, like two halves of a locket, completing each other in a weirdly platonic, brotherly way.
Not that Remus felt jealous, at all. Not that he'd never had a friendship as deep and obvious as that. No, not at all.
"This is James Potter," Sirius announced proudly, dragging his friend over to them. James's eyes, however, were fixated upon one thing only.
Lily.
Sirius noticed it. All of them noticed it, because James wasn't exactly subtle when he sidled up next to her, eyes glowing like he'd just found Pandora's box. Clearly, and rightfully so, Lily was a bit creeped out.
"This is Remus, that's Lily - but I guess you've already found Lily, whatever," Sirius rolled his eyes, apparently well adjusted to the heart eyed state that had overcome his friend.
"Hey, I'm James. What's your name? Wait - don't tell me, it'll never live up to the beauty of your face." At this point, Remus was wondering whether the man in his shop was incredibly stupid or incredibly drunk.
"I literally just told you-"
"That's disgusting," Lily made a disgruntled noise, stepping back slightly and sending James's face traffic-light red. It was quite painful to watch. "Do you greet every girl with that?"
"What - no, I-"
"Thank God," she scrunched up her face and focused her attention on Remus. "I suppose you've got everything under control here. I'd best be getting back, better help Marlene with… anything."
"Okay," Remus nodded, torn between amusement, sympathy and bewilderment. Lily wasted no more time, turning to leave after shooting a polite smile in Sirius's direction.
Awkward silence.
"That went well, mate," Sirius joked, an undertone of laughter in his voice. James shoved him. He cleared his throat and held out a hand for Remus to shake; which was oddly old fashioned, but nice.
"You must be Remus," he said, ignoring the exasperated look Sirius gave him. "The saint who gave Sirius something to do with his time that isn't pestering me."
"That's just rude, James, I have friends who aren't you."
"Peter doesn't count."
Sirius opened and closed his mouth like a fish trapped in a bowl.
The three of them stood in the bakery felt like what high school might have felt like, for kids who weren't homeschooled. Friendly bickering, shameless flirting with girls you'd never seen before, walking into a room and embracing your best friend as though you hadn't seen them yesterday or the day before. It all felt very casual, like three friends meeting up.
Which was when Remus realised how easily he was clicking with these pretty-much-strangers because let's face it, it actually was a big deal that Sirius was allowed into his kitchen without supervision.
"Nice bakery," James said. "What possessed you to let Sirius work somewhere that smells so nice?"
This time, Sirius didn't even shove him. James had a point; Sirius smelled like motorbike engines and cigarettes (a terrible habit, and not something Remus wanted his bakery to smell like), not fresh bread and chocolate. Which was probably what Remus smelled like, come to think of it.
"You know, James, I haven't got a clue," Remus wriggled his nose - a trick he'd learned after watching Bewitched as a kid. "Perhaps I should fire him before he pollutes the cakes."
"Speaking of fire," Sirius's eyes flickered back to the kitchen door. "Er, unless you want one in your kitchen, I'm going to go and rescue my cookies."
Oh my God, Remus thought. What have I done?
After Sirius had left, the door slamming to a shut behind him, James's face fell into something more serious. He looked his age now - a young man, slightly concerned and with all the air of authority. Something told Remus he was the kind of guy who could walk into any room, be presented with any group of people, and lead them with ease.
"Listen, Remus," he said quietly, leaning forward slightly. "What you're doing for Sirius is really great. It might seem like nothing at all, but thank you. I know he can fuck it up sometimes and he makes mistakes, but he's a great guy and he really needs this. And, you know, I think he really likes the bakery."
Remus blinked. What was he supposed to say to that? Was it a threat? Was it gratitude? It felt like a mixture of both, mixed in with yet another hat tip towards the fact that Sirius really needed a job and Remus had no idea why that was so important.
"It's okay," was all that really felt appropriate.
James nodded, returning to his original, friendly demeanor. He had the sort of face that anyone would find difficult not to trust, even if he did use crappy chat up lines on random attractive girls. "Cool. So how long have you owned the bakery?"
"Not long," Remus said, running a hand through his hair. "Technically years, but I only opened it up a few months ago."
Technically he'd owned it his whole life. Technically it was always going to end up being his.
At that moment, the door burst open again behind Remus, and Sirius came wandering in, balancing a hot tray of cookies on one gloved hand. They watched in amusement as he hopped over to the counter and plopped them down. This time, the cookies were coated in black, the chips barely distinguishable. Burnt.
"You're going to need to keep practicing."
/
One of the many wondrous things about summer is that the sun doesn't set until well into the night, when children are fast asleep and their parents are still sat outside, sipping wine and flicking through the pages of their books still basking in golden light. Not that it made much difference to Remus as of late, since he spent most of his time in the bakery, and didn't mind it at all. By the time he walked out at night, or at least by the time he arrived home, the moon and the stars would be out and it was beautiful.
Stars were beautiful.
"Stars are beautiful," he remarked out loud, stood in the kitchen with his apron covered in cake batter and icing dripping from the whisk in his hand.
"Thank you," came Sirius's reply, as he stood with his back to Remus, trying to bake another batch of cookies. (At this rate, all of their profit was going to be spent on chocolate chips.)
"Moron," Remus muttered.
"I'm tired," he complained, resting his head down on the counter.
Remus turned to open the oven behind him, sliding out a tray of freshly baked chocolate cupcakes. They smelled delicious. "I told you you could go home hours ago."
On the other side of the room, Sirius was opening the oven, setting the timer and sliding in his batch of cookies. Most of the mixture of which had actually been consumed by the man himself, in a state of tiresome hunger. He sighed. "Yes, but you're still here. It's cheating to leave first."
Now scrubbing away at the cake residue on his own countertop. "I admire your chivalrous attitude, Sirius."
Sirius tugged his apron off and pulled himself up onto his counter, facing Remus from across the room. He began to pat his hands against his knees, impatiently waiting for his cookies to bake. One thing he'd proven to be bad at was waiting for things to bake. Apparently time was an inconvenient convention.
"Stars are beautiful," he repeated Remus's words, quietly and with thought.
"Yep," Remus spun around, throwing his towel into the sink on the other side of the room with immaculate aim. He stepped towards the table that stood between them and pointed up, towards the ceiling. There, a small window showed them the sky. A small gap that reminded them of the world outside this room, where the day had ended and night had begun.
"That's a nice view," Sirius said, craning his neck to look. "A nice view to bake to. Is that why you stay here so late?"
Remus shrugged. Truth be told, he didn't have much else to do.
Sirius grinned, one of his grins that could almost pass for a smirk. "I think you're in love with the night."
/
"My God. What time is it?" Sirius rubbed at his eyes, yawning loudly. They were stood outside now, the air still humid and the sky still clear. But it was a deep shade of blue now, deep into the night.
Remus checked his watch, simultaneously locking up the bakery and slinging his satchel over his shoulder. "Midnight," he said. Standard.
"Insane," Sirius was mumbling, shaking his head as he picked a cigarette up out of his jacket pocket and set it between his lips. He lit it with ease, leaning against his motorbike, the smoke drifting from his mouth in pure white wisps. It was like a poster ad for a nineties movie.
With a shake of his head, Remus pointed at the cigarette. "That. Is bad for your health."
Cocking an eyebrow, Sirius took it from his mouth and held it by his side. "Yes, I've heard that rumour too."
"It's also bad for pastries," Remus continued. "And if you desperately need a job, you might find that not buying cigarettes and lighters will save you a tremendous amount of money."
"Fair point." Sirius looked guiltily at the cigarette between his fingers and grimaced as though he was being forced to leave an old friend behind. He inhaled from it one more time before dropping it on the floor and stomping it into the ground with a heavy black boot.
Remus smiled, surprised that Sirius had so easily tossed it away. It didn't mean he'd quit, of course, but it was a good sign. And it was also none of Remus's business, unless you counted the fact that the man in front of him was now his employee and Remus would rather he didn't develop a smoker's cough while baking.
"Let me drive you home." It was a question, really. Sirius tapped his motorbike which he was now leaning against lightly. Even the tap was light, as though he was afraid it might crumble if he touched it too hard.
"It's fine," he shook his head, looking around in the direction of his own bike. Not nearly as cool and stylish as Sirius's motorbike - in fact, it was old and rusty - but still his bike. "I've got my ride."
Sirius laughed. "Do you ride that here every day?"
"Yes."
"Even in the rain?"
"Do you ride that in the rain?"
"Touché," Sirius was hopping onto his bike now, and Remus made a mental note that he at least had a helmet to put on his head. Because you can be punk rock with your leather and cigarettes, but at least take safety precautions on the road at Midnight. "But at least come look at the stars with me."
Remus stared at him. Just moments ago, Sirius was too tired to move. In fact, Remus very much wanted to go home and sleep. "You're insane. And cheesy. I'm flattered, really, but I'd rather go to sleep."
Disappointment. "I know a lot of constellations."
"Wonderful," Remus teased. But the longer he looked at Sirius, the more the other man's eyes resembled a puppy's. It was enough to fill his gut with guilt. "How about tomorrow?"
A beaming grin from ear to ear split across his lips and into his eyes as he slipped the helmet over his head. That fateful, heart-dropping, menacingly attractive grin. "It's a date."
And the roar of the engine muffled Remus's squeak.