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There’s a certain comfort about walking the same path every day. If there’s one thing Remus Lupin loves, it’s a routine. Something he can sink into, the familiarity quieting the ever present buzz in his head. That’s why he finds himself strolling down his worn, well-trodden path through the park daily, no matter the weather or what might be going on in his life. Today, there’s a slight chill in the air, the season just changing from fall to winter. Remus is bundled up in a large wooly sweater, a long scarf draped around his neck.
Every day there’s just a bit of variation, the slightest difference to catch Remus’ attention. A new face he doesn’t usually see sitting and reading on a park bench, a flyer taped around a lamppost advertising a concert this weekend, a squirrel cutting across the path to scamper up an evergreen. That in particular is what catches Remus’ eye today, the flash of brown fur as it weaves around the trunk.
Remus pulls his phone out of his pocket, opening up his camera app. That’s another part of his routine, taking pictures. He loves to be able to look through his camera roll and see a tangible memory of each day, whatever interested him during that particular walk.
Remus blames being distracted by his phone for what happens next. There’s the sound of padded feet rustling through grass, and a distant panting that gets closer and closer until— in a breath, Remus is sprawled on his back, the wind knocked out of him. He turns his head as he scrambles to his elbows, searching around for his attacker.
A shaggy black dog is sprinting towards the tree, jumping to ram its front legs into the bark, trying to climb to reach the squirrel who is already safely perched on a tall branch.
Remus breathes out a mixture between a scoff and a laugh, gently shaking his head. He’d just been run over by an overexcited dog chasing a squirrel. He thought stuff like that only happened in movies.
He slowly gets to his feet, brushing himself off and rubbing at his tender elbow from where it took the most impact with the ground. The dog tries futilely for a few more seconds to reach its furry prey, and then slowly lowers back down to all fours. It backs up from the tree, turning back to face the path once more, and catches sight of Remus. The dog’s tongue lolls out of its mouth, suddenly looking like it’s smiling at him.
Dogs can’t smile, right? Remus shakes his head, he doesn’t think he hit it on his way to the ground, but he guesses he can’t be sure. But once Remus is done blinking out his bewilderment, his eyes cast down to his feet, where the shaggy dog is now sitting— staring up at him with big, bright eyes.
Remus is… not a dog person. He much prefers cats and other smaller, less excitable animals. Not that he has anything against dogs per say, he just never grew up with them and has witnessed enough bad interactions with poorly trained dogs to be a little wary of them.
But the dog in front of him is staring at him with so much joy, and is just calmly sitting at his feet— even though not more than two minutes ago he was on his back as a result of the same dog— and something in Remus’ chest warms.
He slowly kneels down, getting on its level, before extending a hand for the dog to sniff. It does so immediately and with fervor, barely waiting more than a second before it’s pushing its head into Remus’ hand, demanding pets. Remus can’t help the soft chuckle that escapes his lips or the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He has to admit, this is one cute dog.
He finds a particular spot behind the dog’s ear that makes it thump its back foot rapidly on the ground and lean into his hand more, and damn it, now Remus is fully smiling. With absolutely no warning, the dog lunges forward, and before Remus can stagger back, places a wet, sloppy kiss right on his cheek.
A laugh splutters out of Remus, and the dog is still licking him, his cheek, his forehead, his jaw. The bridge of his nose where a long, jagged scar runs. He can’t stop laughing, the sound rumbling out from his stomach, hands grabbing onto wiry fur and trying to push the dog off of him.
It does gets the hint, pulling back and doing that panting smiling thing again, tail thumping against the ground in time.
Remus’ brain clears, all at once realizing that this is someone’s dog. He stands, looking around to try and see someone approaching. Remus became very familiar with just how fast the dog was running to get to that squirrel, getting a back full of dirt for it, so he wouldn’t be surprised to see an owner running in this direction. But for more than thirty seconds, no one comes. Which is when Remus realizes the dog doesn’t have a collar or a leash, anything that might suggest it was out for a walk just like Remus.
Remus gives the dog another scratch behind the ears, finding himself talking out loud, “Do you belong to somebody, buddy?”
The dog, of course, doesn’t answer. Just keeps staring at Remus with a stupidly goofy look on its face, and Remus’ heart twinges. It’s way too friendly to be a street dog or a stray, so someone must be looking for it. Remus tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, mentally kicking himself for what he’s about to do.
But the dog kind of chose him, right? He would have to be some kind of monster to just leave it here. So Remus slips his scarf from his neck, making a slip knot before carefully threading it around the dog’s head, tightening it just enough to be secure. And with this makeshift leash, starts to walk.
The dog instantly follows him, trotting alongside Remus and still looking up at him, tail wagging and tongue bouncing with each step.
Remus sure hopes his landlord doesn’t have anything against pets.
***
A week passes by with his new companion. Remus had to get a leash and collar first for safety reasons, but he has to admit that he went a little overboard. A new dog bed, an assortment of toys that the dog seemed interested in when they went to the pet store together, lots of treats that Remus gives him for every little, inconsequential reason.
So, he’s spoiling the dog a bit. Sue him. He’s a damn cute dog, and so well behaved. If Remus wasn’t pretty sure he had a loving owner looking for him already, it’s confirmed by how good the dog is. Never trying to eat food off the floor or begging for Remus’ food at the table, walks incredibly well on leash, knows all the basic commands.
Remus’ daily walk through the park is even better with a friend to share it with, and the dog seems to love the park just as much as he does. Remus agonized over what to call him, needing something just for the time being since he didn’t know the dog’s real name. Inspiration struck him on one such walk, later at night than usual.
The moon was out, bright and full in the sky, and the dog threw his head back and howled at it. Like a werewolf; and Remus was hit with the name Moony. It just seemed right , he couldn’t explain it.
“What do you think, boy, do you like Moony?” Remus had asked the dog, and he had responded by licking Remus’ exposed knee through the rip in his jeans. So Remus took that as a yes.
Which brings the two of them to today, Saturday, with Lily and Marlene lounging on the couch, a pizza in the oven. Remus met Lily and Marlene during college, he ran a study group for the English department as a TA his senior year, and the girls frequented his study sessions. They all became quick friends, and now they have dinner together every Saturday.
Remus is in the armchair, Moony curled up at his feet, every once in a while looking up at him, which Remus knows is a request for pets. Remus leans down and places a scratch behind his ears, in the spot he likes, and is rewarded by the thump of a tail against his leg.
Marlene coos from across the room, head in her hands, “He’s just so stinking cute!”
“Yeah, he is,” Remus says on a soft chuckle, looking down at Moony, warmth swelling in his chest.
Lily shifts on the couch, pulling her feet up to cross them underneath her, holding a half full wine glass and taking a small sip from it. “Have you gotten anywhere with trying to find his owner?”
“Nah, I’ve been looking for missing dog posters, I’ve put up his picture around with my number, but there’s nothing,” Remus replies, leaning back into his chair when Moony puts his head back on the floor, seemingly content with the amount of pets he has received.
Lily hums, twisting her wine glass between her fingers, the little furrow in her brow Remus knows too well, able to see the gears turning in her head.
“Have you brought him to the vet?” she asks, “He might be microchipped? They’d have record of his owner’s contact information and phone number.”
Remus hadn’t thought of that actually, but now that Lily has brought it up, he mentally kicks himself for being so stupid. Of course he should have checked for a microchip, that should have been the first thing he did after Moony settled into his apartment.
“Lily, have I told you recently that you’re a genius and I love you?” Remus beams at his best friend, and she just tosses her hair off her shoulder dramatically, waggling her eyebrows at him.
“No, you actually haven’t,” she teases, sticking a tongue out at him, “But it’s always nice to hear.”
***
Monday morning, Remus brings Moony to the vet, letting them know the history of how he found the dog. It’s an incredibly easy process, all the vet tech had to do was press a little scanner to the back of Moony’s neck before she announced that he was, in fact, microchipped.
Remus feels a wave of something melancholic wash over him as the vet tech rolls over to the computer to input the identification number, and he berates himself for it. He had known that one day he would find Moony’s real owner and have to give him up.
But the tiniest part of him had hoped, incredibly selfishly, that Moony wouldn’t be microchipped. That he would never find a lost dog poster with Moony’s goofy face on it, that no one would ever call Remus about his own posters, and that Remus could just… keep him.
As someone who wouldn’t call himself a dog person, Moony was something else. He had weaseled his way into Remus’ life over the past week and a half, to the point where Remus thought it might have been fate that sent him toppling over in the park after being slammed into by a very shaggy, lovely, excitable dog.
The vet tech finds his owner’s contact info, handing over a slip of paper to Remus and sending them on their way with a warm smile.
Remus stares down at the name on the paper, scribbled next to a number and an email. Sirius Black. Moony’s real dad. Remus, embarrassingly, wants to cry. But he doesn’t let himself, not as he opens the door to his apartment, letting Moony roam as he plugs the number into his phone. Not even as his finger hovers above the call button, regretting every decision he’s ever made that had brought him here.
Remus knows he’s being ridiculous, so he gathers himself, and hits call.
— — —
Sirius has been an absolute mess for the past week and a half, driving himself crazy thinking about all of the things that could have happened to Padfoot. Padfoot is such a good boy, but they were out on a walk and he got spooked by a biker riding way too close to them on the sidewalk, and it had all just happened so fast. One moment Padfoot was there, and the next he had slipped out of his collar and was sprinting the opposite direction.
Sirius had hesitated for just a beat too long, and by the time he got his legs to work, Padfoot was already so far away and only gaining speed. Sirius had run after him, but quickly lost sight of him.
So, Sirius has spent the last few days split between sitting in his apartment and trying not to break down into tears, and walking around for hours with James and Peter looking for him. Sirius is starting to lose hope, when he gets a call from an unknown number in the middle of the day on Monday.
Sirius will not allow himself to get his hopes up about this, won’t let himself think that it’s someone calling from the flyers. He answers the call, raising the phone shakily to his ear. “Hello?” he croaks out, his voice a little wobbly.
“Hi, is this Sirius Black?” the voice on the other end replies, punching breath from his lungs.
“Yes, this is him.”
“Great, good— I’m calling because I have your dog,” the man says, and Sirius’ heart races.
He sucks in a deep breath, an instant smile lighting up his face, hope soaring in his chest. “Oh my god, you have him?” the word’s tumble from Sirius’ mouth without permission, “Holy— fuck, thank— Jesus Christ.”
“My name’s actually Remus.” The man’s laugh is deep and rich through the phone, sending heat up Sirius’ neck and across his cheeks.
“Right, Sirius,” he responds, before smacking a hand to his forehead with how stupid he’s being, “But you already know that, because you called me and referred to me by name.”
This earns Sirius another low laugh, and oh, that feels good. Everything feels good right now, he feels like he could climb a fucking mountain.
“Right,” the man— Remus— confirms, “So, if you wanted to come to my apartment to pick him up today? Not sure if you’re working or something but I’ll be around. I can give you my address?”
Sirius immediately springs to his feet, stumbling over to the door to shove his feet into his shoes, smooshing the phone between his ear and shoulder as he grabs his leather jacket and pulls it on. “I’m free, I’ll head over now. Just text it to me, okay?” Sirius says, breathless, “And thank you so much, you have no idea how happy I am right now.”
“I’m just glad I found you, see you soon.”
Sirius doesn’t think he’s ever walked faster in his life.
***
Remus’ apartment is only a fifteen minute walk from Sirius’, so it’s no time at all before Sirius is standing in front of the door to his unit, raising his hand to knock. After he does, there’s the sound of thumping coming from inside, things shuffling around and Sirius is taking very deep breaths, trying to stay calm.
The door swings open in front of him, and he’s face to face with Remus. His voice matches him perfectly— tall, dark, handsome— and he’s smiling warmly down at Sirius. Something flutters in his stomach, Sirius beaming back, but before he can even say anything, express his immense gratitude, a flash of black comes barreling towards them, weaving between Remus’ legs and colliding with Sirius.
Padfoot slams into him, whining and crying, tail wagging like crazy as he jumps up to meet Sirius, Sirius dropping to his knees so he can pull his dog— his baby— into a hug. Padfoot is licking him in an instant, his hair, his cheek, even inside his ear, but Sirius can’t find it in himself to care. He’s just so damn happy, so relieved .
“Hey buddy, I missed you so much,” Sirius whispers, face pressed into Padfoot’s wiry hair. Padfoot seems to respond, letting out one sharp bark that rings in his ear, Sirius barking out a laugh of his own.
Sirius hears Remus clear his throat above them, and he lifts his head to find Remus with slightly wide eyes, the beginning of a panic in his expression. “Let’s go inside, yeah? This building isn’t exactly pet-friendly.” Remus rubs at the back of his neck almost shyly, a dark blush spreading across his cheeks.
So they do, Remus grabbing a beer from the fridge against Sirius’ insistence that he really didn’t need anything, settling into the living room of a very cozy, well lived-in apartment. One of the walls is entirely taken up with a bookshelf completely filled with more books than Sirius has ever seen outside of a library, the couch covered in soft throw pillows and what looks like handmade blankets.
Sirius lands on said couch, Padfoot basically on top of him, tail still wagging from when it had started when Remus opened the door. Remus takes the armchair, bringing his beer bottle to his lips, obviously trying to hold back a smile at the sight of Padfoot squirming and nudging into him.
They swap stories, Sirius telling him how Padfoot got lost, and Remus telling Sirius how he found the dog in the park and he just seemed to get attached. As they talked Padfoot eventually calmed down, and even left Sirius’ side to go and sit at the foot of the armchair, Remus seemingly absentmindedly leaning down to scratch behind his ears, Padfoot’s favorite spot.
Remus tells him how he named Padfoot ‘Moony’ because he seemed to like howling at the moon, and Sirius lets out a deep laugh and confirms that Padfoot’s done that since he was a puppy.
Sirius keeps getting distracted by Remus’ hands when he leans down to give Padfoot a scratch, and his eyes when they light up when Sirius tells a joke, and his lips when he raises his beer bottle to meet them, his neck bobbing as he swallows. Sirius needs to stop getting distracted.
But sitting here, in Remus’ apartment, warm and cozy and with light, fun, flowing conversation— Sirius is having a hard time looking anywhere other than Remus’ hands, his eyes, his lips, his neck.
It doesn’t help the fluttering in Sirius’ chest that Padfoot seems to be absolutely enamored with Remus, and that Remus is quietly enamored right back— smiling warmly down at Padfoot every time his tail whacks Remus’ leg, evidenced by the sheer number of toys in his apartment even though Remus had admitted he’d never had a dog before.
So Sirius shouldn’t be held responsible for his actions when he asks if Remus would want to meet up in the park down the street for play dates? You know, just if you want to see Padfoot again, he seems to really like you. Sirius definitely doesn’t have any ulterior motives for asking to see Remus again, but Remus either doesn’t pick up on it or doesn’t care, because he agrees.
They set up a time on Saturday morning to meet, and Sirius leaves Remus’ apartment with an armful of new dog toys and Padfoot trotting beside him.
***
The second Padfoot catches sight of Remus in the park later that week, he’s dashing towards him, yanking the leash right out of Sirius’ hands and just making a break for it. Padfoot nearly tackles Remus, tail going a mile a minute, Remus’ face absolutely radiant with his warm, bright smile.
He’s wearing a fuzzy green and brown sweater and a slouchy beanie, cheeks slightly red from the cold, and Sirius thinks he might just be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.
Sirius jogs up to them, spluttering and grabbing ahold of Padfoot’s leash again.
“You really have to learn to hold onto that thing,” Remus chuckles and pushes a stray piece of hair back under his beanie from where it tumbled out, and Sirius takes a second to remind himself to calm down.
He’s breathless and with a laugh of his own responds, “Yeah, that could have been a disaster.”
Sirius can feel the blush on his face, purposefully dropping his attention to Padfoot to try and hide it from Remus, giving his dog a scratch until he can get himself under control.
When he does look back up, he meets Remus’ eyes, bright and dancing with something mischievous, a smirk at the corner of his mouth, and the blush immediately returns to Sirius’ face. The only thing he can do is laugh, scrubbing a hand over his cheeks when he feels long, slender fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling his arm down.
Sirius’ skin sizzles where Remus’ hand is wrapped around it, and he startles, eyes shooting up to lock onto Remus’, a rich warm brown swimming with something Sirius can’t place.
“Don’t, it’s cute,” Remus murmurs, “I like it when you blush.”
Sirius does absolutely everything in his power not to melt into a puddle right on the spot.
***
Months later, Sirius fumbles with the keys to his apartment, careful to keep the basket around his arm level. He finally gets them in the lock, throwing the door open.
“Remus? Pads?” Sirius calls out into the entryway, pausing to listen for the telltale sound of paws pounding on hardwood. He doesn’t hear anything though, so he figures they must be out on their daily walk.
Ever since Remus moved in two months ago, Padfoot has been attached to him at the hip, they go everywhere and do everything together. Sirius can’t even be jealous, because every time he sees them interact love swells in his chest, and he just wants to cover both of them with kisses.
So, because Sirius is expecting them to be out of the house on a walk, his breath catches as he sweeps into the living room, going still at the sight of Remus and Padfoot curled up against each other on the couch, sound asleep.
Sirius’ smile feels like it takes up whole face, his heart flopping around in his chest. He slowly sets his basket down onto the floor, walking over to the couch as silently as possible to not disturb either of them.
Once he’s close enough, he leans down, bringing his lips to Remus’ in a soft, sweet kiss. Then he places a kiss on Padfoot's forehead as Remus starts to stir, eyes fluttering open and a soft smile on his lips. Sirius tucks a wave of hair behind Remus’ ear, fingers lingering on the side of his face, and Remus turns to kiss the palm of his hand, making Sirius’ heart soar.
“Have a good nap, love?” Sirius murmurs, Remus nodding his head sleepily, stretching with a soft sigh.
Padfoot picks his head up, sniffing the air. Sirius laughs, full and bright, giving Padfoot a scratch on the head.
“Seems like someone already figured out there’s a surprise in the apartment,” Sirius says, catching the confusion in Remus’ eyes as he blinks the sleep out of them.
His voice is groggy, something Sirius goes absolutely crazy for, when he asks, “Surprise?”
Sirius just nods, heading back to the basket on the floor and opening it up, taking the surprise gently in his arms and turning back around to face Remus, unable to keep the smile off his face.
Remus’ eyebrows shoot up his forehead, eyes going wide and soft, lips slightly parted. “Sirius… you didn’t,” he breathes out, wonder and astonishment in his voice.
“Oh, but I did,” Sirius smirks as he places the surprise into Remus’ outstretched arms.
Remus always talks about being a cat person— despite his obvious obsession with Padfoot— so Sirius had been planning this for months, even before Remus had moved in with him.
Sitting in Remus’ lap is a tiny calico kitten, fast asleep and snuggled in Remus’ arms. Remus looks from the kitten to Sirius, eyes still wide as he gently pets her, and Sirius comes to rest on the couch next to him.
“You keep saying how much you want a cat, so I figured I’d bring one to you. You brought Padfoot back to me, after all,” Sirius whispers, careful to keep his voice soft and not disrupt the heartwarming scene in front of him. “And look,” Sirius points to a patch of coloring on the tiny kitten, mouth curving up into a smile, “she’s got what looks like a little crescent moon in her markings.”
Remus’ fingers trace the mark Sirius is talking about, letting out a content little sigh before meeting Sirius’ eyes. “She’s perfect, Sirius.”
“I thought you might think so,” Sirius reaches out to run two fingers along the kitten’s head, watching her stir from her sleep just a bit, before continuing, “I was thinking we could name her Moony.”
Remus’ head snaps up, another shocked look across it, before his features smooth out and he jolts forward, pressing their lips together. The kiss doesn’t last long, both of them smiling too much for it to go anywhere, Remus pulling back and fully beaming at Sirius before he whispers, “Yes. Let’s name her Moony.”