Work Text:
Remus liked the desk in Sirius' flat. It had a nick on the left edge, and the varnish was wearing off in the middle, and the bottom-right drawer stuck unless you wiggled it just right, but Remus liked it anyway. He was well acquainted with it, of course, as Sirius lived right on the edge of London, and he stayed there whenever Order business took him outside the bubble of the city, which it did quite often.
At first, it struck him as strange that Sirius had a desk at all--Sirius, who never studied or did an day's work at a desk in his life. When he asked, Sirius said it was a good place to write letters and put drinks during a party. Not that Sirius, or anyone else for that matter, had had a party in recent months, but the sentiment was still the same, and Remus had to agree about the letter-writing. He would sit up for hours, writing to Order members, to Dumbledore, to his mother, and sometimes Sirius would perch himself on the nearby sofa and watch him, or get him a mug of hot cider or cocoa or tea and give him a back rub. Lately, they had been apart more often than they'd've liked--Remus was running back and forth for Dumbledore and Sirius was making weekly trips to Godric's Hollow--so when they were both in Sirius' flat, it was a welcome taste of life before.
On this particular night, Sirius walked in on him writing a letter to Dumbledore (his third that day), and set a mug of cocoa on the desk. "You look dreadful, Moony," he said.
Remus looked up at him. "I'm fine."
"No, you really look terrible. Here," he said, standing up, "let me help you."
"Sirius..." he began, but he knew it was hopeless. Sirius' hands were surprisingly strong when they fell on Remus' shoulders. He had done this a thousand times before, and he knew Remus' knots and kinks and soft spots. It wasn't long before Remus felt like a puddle of jelly contained only by a hard wooden chair. "Sirius," he said slowly, "you give the best back rubs."
Sirius stepped in front of him again and grinned. "Glad to be of service, Messr. Moony. Now drink up."
And as Remus sipped his cocoa and folded his letter, he thought how lucky he was that he liked Sirius' desk.