Chapter Text
“I’m doomed,” Sirius announces.
“Relax, I gave her your number,” James says. Sirius is draped across the couch, as melodramatic as James has ever seen him. “She was into me, I could tell. She’ll pass on the message.”
Sirius sits up, gaze piercing, “James, I need you to understand that I do not trust your blind confidence with women, and I will not hinge my entire future soulmate on that alone.”
James scoffs, tosses a pillow and Sirius’ face, and ducks when it comes flying back with twice the force. “Mate, it’s going to be okay. Have some trust.”
It’s a miracle Sirius doesn’t kill him then and there.
He goes back the next day, of course. He dresses for the occasion, wearing his favorite black t-shirt and best motorcycle jacket. It is, in fact, his only motorcycle jacket, but he feels like he can take on the world whenever he wears it. It occurs to him that he’s getting dressed up for the chance at a one-sided coffee date, and he’s nearly embarrassed by his own conduct.
The red-head is at the register, the girl James swore up and down to have charmed. There are five people in line, and he doesn’t see his soulmate anywhere. He stays vigilant as the line moves, he had been caught off-guard last time, after all.
When he gets to the front, a pop star is crooning about a broken heart and he still hasn’t seen the boy in the cardigan. He orders a cappuccino.
“Name?” She asks. She speaks like it is an inconvenience that she has to ask. He can tell she wants to be anywhere else.
“Sirius,” he says.
Recognition flashes across her face. “Uncommon name,” she says, “you don’t hear that one often.”
His smile is tight, uncomfortable. “Family name,” he says.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a roommate?” She asks, writing his name on a cup and passing it to a blonde working the espresso machine. “Annoying, lanky? Thinks he’s a smooth talker?”
He laughs, doubling over at the counter. She stares at him, and he only laughs harder until, panting to catch his breath, he chokes out, “that’s my James. I’ll let him know you aren’t impressed.” She’s surprised by her own laughter.
“Remus is off today,” she says.
“Then I’ll be back tomorrow,” he says quickly.
“His shift starts at noon,” she tells him. He’s about to thank her when his name is called out. She looks pointedly at his drink atop the bar. He sticks a fiver in the tip jar, grabs the coffee, and goes home.
Remus is tying his green apron the next day when Sirius walks in. They lock eyes. Remus forgets how to tie his apron, forgets basically all basic skills, including speaking. He is supposed to be asking a customer if coffee will be all, or if there’s anything they want to eat today. Instead his mouth gapes open, like a fish.
Lily’s at his elbow in an instant, and he is flooded with gratitude. “Sorry,” she tells the customer, and makes some excuse for his inattentiveness that he doesn’t catch.
While the customer swipes their credit card, she hisses in his ear, “Get it together.”
His face is hot.
Sirius walks up, and Remus swears it happens in slow motion.
“Hi,” Sirius says.
“Hi,” Remus says.
They both blink.
“I’d like,” Sirius says, slowly, looking at Remus as if to memorize him. “I’d like a coffee?”
Remus nods. “I like coffee,” he says.
“Um,” Sirius says, “that’s good. You know, because you work here?” He gestures around.
“Yeah, there’s a lot of coffee here,” Remus says and he would like to cut off his mouth before he says anything even stupider. He looks down at the register, “just a coffee, then? What size?”
“Any size, it doesn’t matter,” Sirius says.
Remus looks confused, “I need to know, though,” he says, “to, you know, put it in?” He gestures to the computer.
“Oh, right,” Sirius says. He is aware that he is still just staring at Remus, and not giving an answer. He wonders when it was, exactly, that he lost the ability to function. Probably sometime around when he discovered the boy with the small smile and the holey cardigan.
“Riveting conversation,” Lily elbows Remus over, punching something into the machine and grabbing a cup. She writes ‘Sirius’ in looping script.
“I’m Sirius,” Sirius says, feeling profoundly foolish.
“I know that,” Lily says, rotating the cup to face him. His eyes are fixed on Remus.
“I’m Remus.”
“And I’m Lily,” Lily says, “and there’s a line, so you two need to stare at each other at a different time.”
Sirius laughs, “Remus, can I stare at you over dinner sometime?” He tries to keep his voice even. It only shakes a little, only when he says Remus’ name.
Remus feels his pulse stutter, is certain he is blushing from head to toe. “Okay,” he says, "that'd be nice."