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Remus sat in his Psych 203 class and tried to focus on the lecture. It was one of those days where no matter how much coffee he drank, he just couldn’t seem to function properly. It was on days like these that he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to memories better left alone.
Remus had always been a square peg in a round hole. The judgment of others was something he should have made peace with a long time ago, but he had never quite managed it. Not that he could complain too much. He had a decent job, and he was getting his degree. But it seemed like people always got uncomfortable when they knew where he came from. After all, two years wasn't that long ago to have been living in a group home. So he just stopped sharing that part of himself with people. They either pitied him or became suspicious of him as if being disowned made him a criminal. But Remus never told them that part. He never told them why either. Only two people had ever known the 'why', and one of them had disowned him in the first place. He, therefore, felt completely justified in keeping that to himself.
Remus had known he was gay ever since he could remember, and ever since he could remember, it had terrified him. He didn't live in fucking San Fransisco. In his backwater hometown, anyone who even hinted at not being straight either walked around with a black eye and a limp or they were in the group home. And everyone knew the group home was the worse option.
Needless to say, he was a secretive and paranoid kid. But looking back, maybe he wasn't paranoid enough.
———
It was one of his best friends who betrayed him. That was the part that hurt the most.
Remus was fourteen, and his friend Peter was over to hang out. They were messing around, or whatever they did back then. Remus had just run downstairs to grab more snacks, and when he opened the door to his room again, Peter was readjusting the sheets on Remus's bed.
Remus knew something was off. Peter's face had gone serious, and he didn't meet Remus's eyes.
"I…I uh, have to go, Remus," Peter mumbled. And without even waiting for an acknowledgment, Peter hurried past him and down the stairs.
Remus stood there, confused and pondering until a sickening thought occurred to him. No, surely not.
Remus leaped to his bed and yanked back the mattress. FUCK! No, No, no, no, no.
The magazine was gone. The magazine he bought on his one trip into the city three years ago was gone, and Peter had it.
Remus sprinted to the stairs, but then he caught himself. There were voices in the kitchen. He heard the muffled voices of Peter and his father. He could hear their voices moving to the front door. The door opened, and his father said one last thing to Peter. When the door closed again, the house fell absolutely quiet. Remus held his breath. They knew. They knew, and his life was over.Remus stood completely still. Another moment passed—then a loud crash came from the entrance hall. And his father was running up the stairs.
Remus got back to his room in time, but not soon enough to get his door closed. His father's boot kicked the door in, and it slammed into the wall behind it, the doorknob left a hole in the drywall. Remus scrambled back until he hit the side of his bed. His father didn't give him time to get his bearings before he was on him. He reached down and grabbed Remus's arm. He twisted it, yanking him up.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!"
Remus wanted to throw up.
His father was gripping the crumpled magazine in his fist. He made sure Remus knew what he was talking about by grabbing Remus by the hair and shoving his face in the magazine.
There would be no arguing this time. He was face to face with the mostly naked man on the magazine's cover. And there was no escape from what would inevitably happen next.
Remus felt a sharp pain in his stomach, and he dropped to the floor. He felt his father's work boots strike his back, once, twice, three times. He was forced roughly onto his back. His father's tall, hulking form was blurry through the tears in Remus's eyes. Remus had never loved his father, but now all he could feel was fear.
"PACK YOUR SHIT! WHO do you think you are! I did not raise my son to be a fucking queer!" His father lent down abruptly and grabbed him by the collar, shoving the magazine in his face again. "Look at this filth; tell me it's not yours, and I might let you stay!!"
Remus just stared up at him, eyes wide. Then his father set his jaw and drew back his fist. Remus felt a splitting pain on the right side of his face and a warm liquid filling his mouth. His father dropped him to the ground. Remus's head slammed against the floor, and he felt on the verge of fainting.
"I want you the hell out of my house—— Your little friend was smart to get the fuck out of here and away from you-Fuck—I want you the fuck out! Get up, boy!"
This time when Remus was forced to his feet, he had to sniffle a cry of pain. He was sure one of his ribs was broken. He felt the blood and spit dripping down his chin.
The drive to the group home was deathly quiet. His father had called his brother to drive Remus so he wouldn't have to, but the call went to voicemail. As they drove he felt as though his father might decide to drive them both off a cliff at any moment. Remus sat tensely in the backseat with a hastily packed duffle bag in his lap. His father gave him fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes to put his life in a bag. It was over for him. He wondered what his father would tell people. Surely not the truth.
———
Remus was sitting in his Psych 203 class with the vague knowledge that it had been six years since he'd talked to his father. Thinking about his dad still brought the same sharp pain as before, through the years had maybe dulled it a little. And thoughts of the group home were something else entirely. His life had changed six years ago, and he had changed with it. But in the background of every thought Remus had, was the lingering touch of loneliness.
Remus noticed his classmates beginning to back their bags, and he followed suit. The notebook open on his desk was filled with notes from the professor's lecture, despite Remus's distracted mind. It was a unique if not depressing skill Remus had developed to compensate for intrusive thoughts.
As Remus walked to the classroom door, his professor gave him a small, questioning smile. Pity, of course. Remus smiled back, and his professor turned to give his attention to other students. Apparently, Remus still needed to work more on his public facade.
He did enjoy some things in his current life though, and that was a huge improvement over the decade prior. He liked his major. He had decided to be a psychologist in his second year in the group home. He had a lot of time to reflect on himself and the kids who were stuck there with him. He knew some of them had it much worse than he had. Some of the others were even happy to live in the home. They saw it as a vacation from their fucked up lives. most of the boys kept their heads down, including Remus. He had become almost monosyllabic living there. He would find himself taking walks, first as an excuse to get out, but then simply because he enjoyed it. He liked walking at night most of all. The crisp night air would wash over his face and his thoughts would be clear.
It was early evening when Remus walked out of the Psychology building, and he felt the wind against his face. He smiled at the crunch of dried leaves under his slightly scruffy sneakers. The weather was starting to turn, and it would most likely be rainy for the rest of October. He didn't mind. Remus breathed in the sharp autumn air and he began walking home. He had just moved a few blocks off campus for his sophomore year, and had unofficially decided to get to know the neighborhood by taking a slightly different route to his apartment each day. He thought for a minute and then turned right when he left campus. It was time for a little adventure. Remus took pleasure in seeing the lives of those around him; animal and human. He was particularly fond of a family of squirrels in one of the trees he passed on his way home. When he was having a particularly hard day he would always try to take a walk to clear his head and to go see his squirrel friends. But there was something different about the neighborhood today. A formerly closed storefront had lights in the windows. It had had a "For Rent" sign in the window since Remus had moved in. He supposed that someone had finally braved the stupidly high rents in this neighborhood.
As he came to the front of the shop, Remus read the sign over the door. The Paw Print Cafe, the sign read. Huh, Remus thought. It must be some kind of pet café. But when Remus looked in through the front window, he saw only a couple of customers sitting at tables and a dark-haired boy about his age behind the counter.
Well, why not, Remus mused. He needed a place to study, and god knows this place would need all the help they could get surviving a year in this area.
When Remus opened the café door, a pleasant bell chimed, and warm air hit his face. He revelled for a second in the smell of coffee and pastries. Remus knew he’d have to get a decaf if he'd have a hope of sleeping tonight. He was a hopeless insomniac.
As the last chime of the entry bell faded away, the boy at the counter looked up.
"Hey. Welcome", The boy said with a crooked smile. Remus couldn't help but notice how nonchalant he looked, one arm leaning on the counter, and his head cocked slightly. Remus the feeling that he practiced that.
Remus made his way over. "Hey," he replied.
"Pick your poison!" The boy gestured to the menu above him.
"Umm...Sorry—what". For some reason, Remus couldn't think clearly. Suddenly he remembered where he was. "Oh, right, coffee."
"Yes, coffee." The boy gave a short, barking laugh. It made Remus forget his awkwardness somewhat.
Remus was confronted with a wall of choices. For such a new café they had an intimidatingly extensive selection. There was a little seed of panic growing as Remus realized he was taking too long. He would just get what he always got then.
When Remus glanced down from the menu, however, the boy seemed perfectly content to wait; still leaning casually on one tanned arm.
"Umm, I'll take your hottest decaf Americano," Remus said quickly.
The boy snorted and smirked as he grabbed a clean coffee mug from beside him.
Remus didn't know if that innuendo was a mistake or not, but he liked that it made the boy smile.
"What's your name?', the boy asked, putting his hands on the counter between them.
"My name?"
"For the order," the boy clarified.
"Oh. Remus". Remus was a bit flustered, and he looked away.
The boy just smiled and must have decided to take pity on his awkward soul.
"And if we want to be fully introduced, my name is Sirius," the boy said and pointed to the name tag on his apron.
Remus looked up and caught Sirius's eye, an earnest small smile forming on his lips.
He was going to like it here.