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“The vulture has landed.”
Sirius nearly dropped the coffee he was pouring as his friend whisper-shouted in his ear. He shot James an exasperated look before walking to the counter and shouting out, “Jesus!” Except in his stupor, he pronounced it as the guy in the Bible. Flushing as the customer took his cappuccino with a snicker, he turned to James.
“What the hell, Prongs?”
“The vulture,” he gestured to the round tables in front of them, “has landed.”
“What are you bloody going on about?”
James put a hand over his heart as if he were wounded. “You forgot the code. I can’t believe you’ve forgotten it.”
“Maybe if you told me, I would remember.”
“The vulture. The man with the, and I quote, ‘chocolatey eyes that I could drown in and tousled hair perfect for holding onto when kissing.’”
Sirius’s eyes popped open with a gasp. His gaze turned to the single table in front of the fireplace.
It was him. He was here.
Sirius and James had worked at the local coffee shop since college. They’ve been serving coffees and heating pastries for years, slowly earning cash to move out of their shared flat and buy affordable places. Fresh out of college with a bachelor’s in music history, he was currently searching for a better paying job centered around his degree. And it killed him to even consider transferring someplace new. Sirius loved working there - loved engaging with the customers and the smell of freshly ground coffee beans and the serene quiet by seven o’clock. His boss and owner of the tiny cafe, Molly, was like a second mother to him. After Euphemia, that is. She took in Sirius when he dazzled her with his vibrant personality and unique attire (a black leather jacket and hot pink skinny jeans, all complimented by canary yellow combat boots that clicked every time he took a step). She was married to a good bloke, Arthur, who visited on occasion only to give her a single sunflower and a kiss on the cheek. Her cheeks went red every time, and the hard exterior she so desperately tried to keep up crumbled away. She was a tough cookie with a soft inside.
They had regulars come and go over the years and by now, only a few have stuck it out with them. James had his fiery favorite, Lily Evans.
Lily was the kind of woman you stare at in awe whilst cowering in a corner. She didn’t put up with anyone’s shit, especially James’s. She was fierce and loving and honest. And the best part? She was all about smashing the patriarchy.
Every time her bright red hair whipped into the shop, James would drop everything and walk toward her like a magnet. “Evans, looking fine as always,” he would greet her. It was clear as day that the two had slowly fallen in love across the counter. Unfortunately, they were oblivious. But he knew it was only a matter of time before they cut the act and told each other how they felt.
And then there was Sirius’s favorite. Well, old favorite. He used to come in daily to get his hot chocolate fixing. Book in two, he sat by the fireplace for hours consuming the words on the pages. Sirius spilled coffee on himself on a number of occasions because he stared at the man his entire shift. His name was Remus. Remus with the soft curls and goofy grin when you pronounced his name wrong on purpose. Remus with the all encompassing blush when you shouted out his order. Remus with the gentle voice that caressed you like honey when you asked him which book he was reading that day.
Sirius used to spend ten minutes just taking his order, leaning on the counter with a flirtatious grin as he prodded for new information about the mysterious man. The line would nearly go out the door when Remus arrived. And then another ten minutes would pass by when Sirius gave him his drink. And another ten when he walked up to ask if he needed a refill. On the house. Always on the house. Molly had even stopped giving him breaks at one point because all he did was flirt.
About three months in, James had coined him “the vulture”, and whispered in his ear that he had landed every time he came into the cafe. And it followed with the whipping of a towel on his ass.
It happened nearly every day. Remus seemed to be there all the time. On warm mornings, rainy days, summer evenings, quiet nights. Sirius found a comfort and a constant in him.
And he had undoubtedly fallen for him.
That is, until he stopped coming two years ago. It was an abrupt end to a blossoming relationship. And Sirius hadn’t seen him since. For months, his eyes would snap to the door every time the bell jingled. He took on more shifts in case he decided to come back.
But he finally gave up. He refused to pathetically pine for someone who he didn’t even know. Even if it felt like he was the only one who understood him.
And now he was here. Getting up from his usual spot to order his drink
Shit.
Bloody hell, he wasn’t prepared. Should he pretend it’s their first time meeting? Or acknowledge that he remembers him?
Wiping his sweaty hands on his ripped jeans, he rushed towards the back to look in the mirror.
Shit shit shit.
Loose strands of hair tumbled onto his face, his bun nearly falling out. Dark rings shadowed his eyes from little to no sleep. His Queen shirt was falling off a shoulder underneath his apron. He looked like a bloody zombie.
Quickly redoing his hair and adjusting his top, he flashed finger guns at his reflection and took a deep breath. “You got this.”
Walking back to the register, he casually leaned on the counter. He made a split second decision to not reveal his recognition right as Remus approached.
“Hi, how can I help you, Remus?”
He mentally slapped himself as soon as he said it. Oh god, he was a wanker.
Remus’s eyes widened for a split second. “How do you remember my name?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion.
God, he’s beautiful.
His hazel eyes were just as he remembered. Deep golden browns and flecks of turquoise. And when he looked at you, it was almost as if he was seeing into your soul. He was wearing a grey peacoat and a thick purple scarf to protect him from the brutal Seattle winter. The small rips in his blue jeans were fraying enough to reveal the pale skin beneath.
In short, Sirius was absolutely fucked.
“I, uh…” he struggled for words. What did he say? That he’s been dreaming about him for over a year? He looked to his right to see James already staring at him. He mouthed, Help.
James began to make his way over, except Lily freaking Evans of all people decided to walk in that very moment, causing James to pivot and beeline towards her.
He gritted his teeth and returned his attention to Remus, who was looking at him expectantly.
Sirius was used to rejection. Every damned time, he was the one to put himself out there. Make a grand gesture. And every time, he heard, “No”. He gave up trying after his heart had been broken a countless amount of times. But now? The very man he had always hoped of meeting again was standing right in front of him. He had been waiting for this opportunity for months. What did he have to lose?
Fuck it.
“Honestly?” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I, erm… I always thought you were adorable. And you happen to be my favorite customer.”
Remus’s eyes widened in pleasure and he grinned shyly. His cheeks turned rosy with a blush as he replied, “Did you really think I came in everyday for a hot chocolate? As good as it is, I always hoped to see you.”
Sirius resisted the urge to fist pump. Just barely. He bit his lip to repress the victorious smile that was bubbling to the surface.
“I just thought you were a chocolate addict,” he laughed.
“Well,” Remus looked down at his feet, “that part is true. But seeing you was better than a chocolate fixing.”
Sirius hesitated. “Why haven’t I seen you for two years?”
Remus grimaced, looking down at his feet.
“I moved temporarily. Family issues. Go figure, right?” he blushed. “But it has settled down. I moved back just yesterday.”
“And you’re here for good I hope?”
“It seems so.”
The two men smiled at each other, the cafe bustling quietly in the background. The sound of the coffee machine, the murmurs of the crowd, the moving of the chairs all blurred together as they fell into their own private universe.
That is, until Molly Weasley cleared her throat, causing Sirius to notice the long line that had formed behind Remus.
He sighed, straightening up and shooting Remus an apologetic look.
“Did you want that hot chocolate?”
He nodded, his face unreadable as he took out his wallet.
Their fingers brushed for the briefest moment as they exchanged the money. Sirius took in the bitten down nail beds, the jagged scars across his knuckles, the indent on the pads of his fingers to suggest he play the guitar. The contrast of his stark pale skin to Sirius’s rich tan.
“My break’s in an hour,” he blurted out. “Would you want to meet at the music store across the street?”
Remus’s eyes brightened. “I would love to.”
* * *
The next hour was a blur. The cafe was insanely busy, it being a Saturday afternoon. Sirius checked the clock every five minutes, anxious for what would come. James had to tell him to calm down on a number of occasions when he would yell an order to loud (his voice cracking embarrassingly) or pronounce even the simplest names wrong (who in their right mind names their child Aaron?).
When the clock struck five, Sirius called to Molly that he would be back in thirty minutes. He promptly rushed out with an encouraging pat on the back from James and an enthusiastic, “We believe in you!” from Lily. Who was still there.
I’ll never understand the straights.
Outside the sun was beginning to set, casting vibrant hues along the old buildings. Fallen leaves danced by from the whistling autumn wind. Breathing in the crisp air, he practically skipped across the road to the music store. The streets were quiet, the occasional passerby strolling past the popular corner of the sleepy town.
Sirius had lived in Seattle for only five years. He grew up in a small, suburban town across the country. A conservative town. Full of gay bashing assholes. Growing up, he was forced to hide his identity, not only from his peers, but from his family. His parents had always disapproved of his choices, from the classes he signed up for to the “homosexual lifestyle” he pursued. He remembered the sneers and slurs after he came out, especially from those closest to him. The way parents would shift slightly as if to protect their kids from him. He never thought he’d be accepted, never imagined a place where he could be whoever he wanted. He found that in Seattle. It was his home.
Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he opened the door to Daybreak Records.
Inside was endless shelves of vinyls lining the walls. The remains of the setting sun shone through the large windows, illuminating the grey pillars that stood in the middle of the room. Records hung on the walls, showcasing music from the Star Wars soundtrack to the Velvet Underground to Iron and Wine.
He scanned the store, looking for rectangular glasses and tousled golden hair and a crooked grin.
He saw a couple holding hands intimately in the corner, a group of friends scourging for a relic, a young girl holding up an old copy of Abbey Road triumphantly.
But no Remus.
What if he backed out?
He checked his phone. Ten past five.
What if I never see him again?
The intrusive thoughts vanished the moment the door opened and the bell dinged quietly. Sirius turned around to see Remus staring at him with a brilliant smile etched on his face.
Sirius began walking toward Remus, drawn to his presence. His heart was racing a thousand beats per minute, and he was scared Remus would see his chest pounding.
Stopping just a few feet away, he rocked on his combat boots and gazed into the eyes of the man he had been dreaming about for years. The man who, until an hour ago, he thought was gone. The man who he knew was going to change his life.
“You made it.”
And then he took his hand.