Work Text:
As Sirius watched the needle reach the end of the record, The Secret Life of Arabia spinning to an end, the last customer filed out of the record store. His colleague stared the clock down until it ticked over, and it was closing time. While the boy’s shift was ending, grabbing his coat from the hook, Sirius’s was just beginning as he switched out the record for an earlier Bowie and gently placed the needle down again. Locking the door and turning the sign, he rested his forehead against the cold steel of the frame and turned back to the shop.
He started by going through the crates, looking for stray sleeves that had been put in the wrong place or were turned the wrong way around. Walked around the shop with a collection of records from Prince’s Dirty Mind, Queen’s A Night at the Opera, and Chris Rea’s self-titled, he picked up ones he knew were commonly misplaced, returning them to their correct crate before dropping off his selection for the next day under the counter.
There was a mirror in the backroom. It was filthy and had “clean me” written in the dust, but Sirius could see his tired reflection slouching over the Rock A-B crate, hair roughly pulled out of his face and a knitted jumper that wasn’t his hanging from his thin frame. His boots were falling apart, he was in desperate need of new ones but would have to wait until he got his wages at the end of the month.
Grabbing the cloth and spray from the small kitchen they had in the back, he next began wiping down the counter, erasing the coffee rings he’d left during the afternoon, and the patch that was still slightly sticky even after he’d cleaned it. Every good shop had a surface that was always sticky, no matter how many times it had been cleaned. That’s what Sirius would tell James every time he complained about it.
The opening guitar of Moonage Daydream flooded the store and Sirius grinned as he grabbed the brush, picking it up and holding it like a guitar. He spun around, almost knocking over the Elton John display with the end before seeing a woman watching through the window as she walked past. Flipping a rude gesture in her direction, he got back to work and began sweeping the floor. Sirius was no singer, but when it came to Bowie he couldn’t resist, belting out the words as he brushed the dirt brought in on customers’ shoes into one pile by the till.
A knock on the glass made him sigh, pointing to the sign he’d definitely turned around. The song came to an end and Sirius considered going to the player and putting it back to listen to it once more. The knock came again.
“Learn to read, fuck ass.” He shouted, walking into the back to grab the dustpan.
“I didn’t think it applied to me, Starman.” Sirius stuck his head back around the doorway with a wide grin.
“Moony.” He muttered to himself, chucking the dustpan in the general vicinity of the dirt pile and quickly walking to unlock the door. “What are you doing here?”
“It is lovely to see you too, Sirius, a real pleasure.” The tall boy leant against the door frame as Sirius stood in the gap, hand gripping the handle tightly.
“Sorry, I just didn’t know you were coming here. Is everything okay? Did something happen to James?” Sirius furrowed his brow in a frow, looking around to see if any of the others were with him.
“No-” Remus tried to follow his line of sight, but he was looking all over the place.
“Pete?”
“Everything is fine, just wanted to stop by, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” His face broke into a smile, watching Sirius relax. Even though Remus was standing on street level, he was towering over his friend.
“Oh. Do you want to come in? I’m just finishing up, I should only be another half hour.” Sirius stepped aside, letting Remus in before locking the door again.
“Should I be worried about that? Not going to keep me here in the basement, are you?” He chuckled, making Sirius blush as he walked over to where he’d chucked the dustpan.
“We don’t even have a basement.” He mumbled, trying to hide his flushed cheeks and Remus hopped on the counter, half-singing the lyrics under his breath as he reached for the hidden snack stash under the till, pulling out some chocolate that Sirius would never admit to keeping there just for him. From the corner of his eye, he watched his curly-haired friend snap a piece off, putting the rest back where he found it. Something about Remus made Sirius feel more relaxed, he didn’t know what it was, but he felt like himself when he was with him.
“The bookshop was heaving today, new Pratchett book out and some kid came up to me five times asking where Roald Dahl’s book about some witches was, and every time I told him that we’d got none left.” Remus watched Sirius potter about the shop, taking stock of the classical section as he did on Wednesdays, while he nibbled on the chunk of chocolate he held, not caring that it was starting to melt onto his fingers.
“Well that new kid, Barty something, spent the whole shift telling people we didn’t have the new Eurythmics record in when I told him it's in the back on special request because I haven’t had time to put it out yet.” Sirius sighed, walking over to the till to take the money to the safe.
“I can put them out now if you want.” Remus popped the last bit of chocolate in his mouth, licking the rest off his thumb.
“No, it’s alright.” Sirius watched, jaw slightly slackened before disappearing into the backroom.
“Sirius, it’s fine. Let me help you.” He heard Remus jump off the counter and walk into the stock room where the delivery intake was kept, looking through unlabelled boxes.
“Sit back down, Moony.” He ordered, walking to the doorway and watching him sift through records to see what was there before finding a box with Sirius’s scrawling penmanship on the top. Touch.
“Don’t be stupid.” Remus flashed a grin as he picked up the box.
“Stop trying to help me like you work here, I can’t afford to pay you.” Sirius slammed his hand on the top of the cardboard box and forced Remus to put it back down.
“You can pay me by keeping my favourite chocolate under the counter even though no one else likes it.” What?
“What?” He muttered. Remus smirked, perching against the cluttered desk that Sirius kept in the shop, littered with unpaid bills and invoices for the next morning’s orders.
“I’m not incapable of noticing things, Sirius. Nobody else eats this shit. Barty only started last week, Dorcas prefers savoury snacks and James only eats crisps or food made using his mum’s recipes. You buy this for me, even if you won’t admit it.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Remus watched Sirius stumble over his words, his face getting redder by the second.
“Moony…”
“And they only sell it in that one shop on the other side of town.” A smile slowly grew on Remus’s face as Sirius stared at the ground.
“I don’t-” He cut him off.
“Which has me thinking why you even bother.”
“I can explain.” Silence lay thick like a blanket between them, Remus crossing one ankle over the other and tilting his head to the side.
“Oh, I’d love to hear it.”
“I didn’t want you to feel like I don’t want you here. You only turn up when we’re closed and it’s just me here and you use these excuses like picking up something you left the last time you were here or asking me to tell James about a book you just got in. I thought if I had your favourite chocolate here then you’d know I want you to visit more. I like it when you come by.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous.”
“What is?”
“Sirius…I come after closing because it’s just you here. I leave things as a silly reason to come back because you couldn’t pick up on the fact that every Wednesday for a year, I stopped by even though it is stupidly far off my journey home. I didn’t come last week to see if you’d notice but I see my jumper that I left has found a new home.” Sirius’s face was burning, pulling the sleeves down from when he’d pushed them up to his elbows.
“I noticed.” He mumbled, hearing the desk creak as Remus stood up. Finger tucked beneath his chin, lifting his gaze. Sirius tried to keep his eyes up, but he couldn’t help but notice the smudge of chocolate on Remus’s bottom lip.
“For the record, I very much like this look on you, Starman.” Before Sirius could say anything, Remus had covered his lips with his own, kissing him tenderly. Every thought in Sirius’s mind was obliterated by the feeling of Remus’s lips on his until the feeling was gone.
“Remus, you have no idea…” He trailed off, trying to string some words together that didn’t make him seem foolish.
“I have every idea.” Before Remus could talk more, Sirius grabbed his face and pulled him back down, kissing him hard out of fear that his brain would convince him the first time was an accident or a mistake. Remus bunched the jumper in fists between Sirius’s shoulder blade, electricity running through his body as he parted his lips. Sirius was more confident kissing Remus than he had ever been when they were just talking, their tongues fighting for control as Remus turned them around. Sirius felt the desk against the back of his legs and sat on the edge, parting his legs for Remus to stand between them, pulling him forward so their hips were flush.
“Pete isn’t home tonight,” Remus whispered against Sirius’s lips, sending a shiver down his spine at the suggestion.
“Neither is James, my place is closer.” There was no need, the jumper was already over his head and getting thrown to the floor. Remus’s mouth was on his again, hungry and hot as he claimed Sirius’s lips as his own, no kiss would ever live up to this. Sirius’s breaths were laboured as Remus kissed his way down the column of his throat. “My Moony.” He whispered.
“I always have been, you were just too blind to see it.” The light of the backroom of Sun, Moon & Stars Records didn’t flick off until over an hour later. Remus walked down the street with his arm around Sirius’s shoulders with a smug smile on his face, tucking a wave of dark hair behind his Starman’s ear that had fell out of the hair tie at some point. Sometimes they just need a little nudge to realise how oblivious they have been.