Chapter Text
Leant on his crutch, Remus stared across the street at the wooden door of the bookshop. It looked older than it rightfully should have. The shop had been open all of six weeks—he’d checked before heading over, just to be sure he had all his facts straight. The Help Wanted sign, shitty and printed in Comic Sans of all things, was still hanging in the window which meant six days had gone by and he still wasn’t too late.
He really didn’t want to do this. He knew what would happen. He’d go in and they’d act like the crutches didn’t bother him, like they couldn’t see his spastic hand, like they were unbothered by the whole affair of him actually needing some accommodation. “You’re really well qualified, we’ll definitely be in touch.”
He might ring up in two weeks, just to hear them fumble, or pretend like they didn’t remember him, or say something like, “Oh we decided we couldn’t afford to take on another employee.” Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly vindictive, he’d go and shop there again—just so he could see the new employee fumbling round doing far worse than Remus would have done if people would just educate themselves on disability.
Remus Lupin had cerebral palsy. From birth. They couldn’t be entirely sure what cause it, though when he was ten and his mam was incredibly ill she’d confessed it probably had something to do with oxygen deprivation at his birth. “They kept telling me not to blame myself, but how could I not?”
She died six months later and Remus sometimes did blame her. When he was feeling angry. Not like he asked for this life. He was incredibly smart and struggling his way through his final year of University but he knew ultimately it would lead to nowhere. Disability services were shit in every country, including England. The pittance they paid him in place of working barely afforded him his tiny flat and one take-away a month.
It would be better if he could just get a damned job, but most employers took one look at him and decided he was better off just collecting from the government instead.
They never gave him a moment to show what he could do.
Running his hand back through his curls, he bowed his head and reached for his crutch. He had to give it a shot. It was a new bookshop who needed help and Remus could provide that. He had an open timetable meaning he could work any shift. And was willing to.
Looking up and down the street, he was amazed there were no cars—though that didn’t guarantee his safety considering how long it would take him to cross the narrow pavement. He clenched his spastic hand round the handle of his crutch, then grabbed the other, slipping his arm through the cuff, and began his walk.
It was now or never.
He really wanted it to be now.
***
Sirius slung his guitar up over his back as he reached for the handle and threw open the door. Exiting the studio, he took in a lungful of the foggy air, wincing when a few misty drops of rain fell onto his head, but it was better than the smell of old cigarettes which he guessed came somewhere from the seventies.
He made himself feel better about it sometimes by imagining that it was a smoke clenched between Ringo Starr’s teeth as the Beatles wrote one of their classics, but he knew there was no way they would have ever recorded with this shite production company. Not even when they were barely-knowns.
But Sirius would take what he could get. He had the damned talent. He was an officially signed artist, and if he could meet his deadline, his first single would be released to the public in exactly six weeks.
Six weeks before his voice and his guitar blared over the radio waves. Possibly globally, if they could get him marketed well enough. He had a unique sound, a high tenor, raspy and captivating.
Music was his first love, his only real love this far in life. He’d come from a family of anger and hate—a family who detested him for who he was. He was supposed to be married by now, and in politics. He was supposed to have brought honour to his family and instead he’d run away after a particularly vicious beating by his family to live with the Potters.
He’d been publicly disinherited and spent the next several years in and out of therapy trying to manage the psychological damage his parents had done to him with neglect and abuse.
The music was a little bit of a fuck you to them, really. That and his incredibly public relationship with the model, Gilderoy Lockhart. He would get weekly letters threatening to sue him for slander every time the pair were caught in the tabloids.
Sirius partly wondered if the reason he stuck with Gil—who was really not a very nice person at all—was to make sure his parents noticed him. Noticed he didn’t regret his choices.
Partly he had a feeling that he was there only because he knew what a mess he was, and never felt deserving of proper love.
Though he wouldn’t admit that to himself. Or to anyone.
Not Sirius Black.
As he strolled down the pavement, his mobile buzzed and he swiped it open. There were two texts—one from James confirming that Sirius would be getting Harry that afternoon, and the second from Gil who was responding to one Sirius had sent days ago.
Soz, was busy. Back tomorrow so I might find time for you then. Laterz.
Sirius tried not to feel the sting as he answered James, letting him know Harry was on his agenda, and would swing by the shop soon with the tiny sprog. He listened to the rhythmic clicking of his motorbike boots on the pavement, and wondered if there would ever be a moment in his life when he’d have what James did. Love, affection, family.
Sirius had it in him, but it wasn’t the same.
But Sirius just did what he did best—ignored it. Stuffed it down into a tiny box like it didn’t exist and went back to his grin. To believing everything in his life was exactly as he planned it.
***
The bell to the shop dinged loud as Remus pushed the door open, and he winced. It was fairly empty, which made things easier as he reached back, patting his CV which was only slightly wrinkled in his pocket. The shop itself was accessible enough, and made Remus relax a bit knowing if he got the job and he’d have to use his chair, he’d be able to navigate well enough.
There were a handful of shelves, wide enough for several people to walk through, and his only real obstacle was a set of stairs which led to a landing. Remus couldn’t tell if it was for employees only, or if there were books up there, but he figured he’d ask about it.
Turning, he looked over at the cash counter, which was sat in front of a door to an office. A moment later, a tall bloke with dark skin and incredibly wild hair stepped out. He reached out, touching the counter, a grin on his face. “Can I help you?”
Remus licked his lips, trying to meet the bloke’s eyes, but after a second he realised why that was impossible. The man was blind. “Er. Yes hi, I saw your sign in the window. About help wanted.”
The slightly strained smile relaxed almost instantly. “Oh yeah? Come round, will you? Into the office?”
Remus cleared his throat. “Sure alright.” He waited until the man turned and made his way back in before he started to cross the room. It took him longer than it normally would have, his nerves getting the best of him. He wanted this job, and he wanted to believe a person with a disability might not discriminate once he learnt Remus had one as well, but that wasn’t always the case.
Even disabled people grew up in abelist society. Sometimes they bought into believing able-bodied was better. Remus had come across it too often.
Taking another breath, he moved round the corner of the counter, past a stack of books neat against the wall, and through the door. His crutches clinked loudly, his feet scraping along the floor as he slipped out of the cuffs, and he leant them on the wall as he pulled a chair out.
The owner was now sat behind the desk, hands folded over his flat stomach, still grinning. “I’m James, by the way. James Potter. I own the shop.”
“Ah. Remus Lupin.”
James leant forward with his right hand out, and Remus sighed. His right hand was the spastic one, which meant he had to give the most awkward shake with his left, though James’ smile didn’t falter at all. Remus eased himself into the chair, gripping the armrest with his left hand so tight, his knuckled ached.
“So. You saw our sign, yeah?”
Remus cleared his throat. “I did. I’m a massive book lover, so it caught my eye.”
James chuckled. “Exactly what we were hoping for. My wife and I run the shop, and I’ve got one other employee but she had to reduce her hours so we need someone to fill in. Normally we’d do it all ourselves, but my three-year-old demands a lot of attention.”
Remus shook his head. “No that’s…that’s perfectly fine. I have no real obligations to speak of.”
“Exactly what I want to hear.”
Remus shifted, reaching for the CV and he smoothed it out on the desk. “Er. I have my CV.”
James reached his hand out, and Remus passed it over. “I’ll have Lily give it a glance over, but you know, I prefer to hire based on face to face, so I’m not too fussed.” James reached over, feeling for a small stack of papers, then stuck it on there. “How old are you, Remus?”
“Twenty-six,” Remus said.
“Student?”
“Ah. Yes, but my courses are online.”
James grinned. “Alright then.”
“I should erm…” Remus knew there was no easy segue into telling James about the CP. It was easier when they could see him and assume, or just ask. “I have cerebral palsy. Which I manage just fine. Normally I’m on crutches but there are days I need my wheelchair.”
“So the stairs might be an issue,” James said.
Remus felt his cheeks go hot, and he tried to read James’ tone, but it was difficult not knowing the man. “I could manage it if I absolutely have to but…”
“It’s no worries,” James said, his smile going very easy and soft. “It’s mostly stock up there. Everything’s logged in our computer system so if someone’s looking for something, you won’t have to go searching the stacks.”
Remus felt his shoulders relax. “Oh. Well alright.”
James took a moment to go over the wages, which was a decent amount if Remus was being honest. “And then really we’ll need you Wednesday to Sunday, usually a closing shift. I’m here most days, but I’d like to have the weekends with Lils and Harry.”
“Er…”
“Wife and kid,” James said with a small laugh.
“Oh. Right yes,” Remus said.
“So point of it is, once we get you trained up and comfortable, are you agreeable to longer shifts?”
Remus blinked, then blinked again. “I…are you…offering me the job?”
James laughed, the sound delighted as he sat back. “I am. Unless you’ve some reservations. It’s not very physically demanding, and I do have a very strict system which absolutely must be followed. For obvious reasons. But I like you.”
Remus licked his lips. “I’m sorry if I’m being rude, but do you really think it’s responsible to hire someone based on the fact that you like them?”
James’ grin, if possible, got wider, and Remus had to wonder how it didn’t crack his face in half. “I think you just proved me right simply by asking that, you know.” Leaning forward, he clasped his hands on the top of the desk. “Look, I know I’m taking a risk. You could be absolutely lying to my face right now and I wouldn’t know. The crutches could be fake, and you could have known I was in here on my own with no one to help verify. But I don’t think so. And if for some reason you fuck me over…then you do. And I move on and don’t make the same mistake twice. But I always trust my instincts, Remus. And my gut is telling me I ought to hire you. So if you’d like the job…it’s yours.”
“I…” Remus had never in his life—not his parents, not mates at school, no one—had someone given him the benefit of the doubt like this before. “I would. Yes. Thank you, Mr Potter.”
“James. Honestly, always James.”
“Alright then. James.”
James extended his left hand out this time, and Remus felt something unknot in his chest. “So are you free at the moment? Because I’d like to get you trained up as soon as possible and there’s no better time than now. Lils is in tomorrow and she can sort out all the new hire paperwork.”
“I…yeah. I’m absolutely free,” Remus said, and as he rose to follow James into the main area, he wondered if maybe this wasn’t the start to something amazing.
***
A tiny hand grasped in his, Sirius and Harry headed for their favourite café for a latte and hot chocolate. “Paddy?”
“Mm, yes sproglet?”
“I want cake. Can I haff a cake?”
Sirius laughed and tugged on Harry’s hand as they reached the doors. “You can have a cake, absolutely.”
They stepped in and went to the counter to order, Harry picking out the biggest slice of chocolate cake they had in the window, and the pair went outside to eat it before heading back to the Potters’ shop.
“Your parents are going to murder me,” Sirius said, swiping a bit of chocolate from Harry’s nose.
“Why?”
“Oh because they think I’m irresponsible and inappropriate.”
“I like appapropwiate,” Harry said, licking his spoon then shoving a scoop of cake into his hot chocolate mug and stirring.
Sirius grimaced, but before he could chide the kid, his mobile began to chime. He looked down and was surprised to see Gilderoy’s name flashing on the screen. “Hallo.”
“Ah darling, I wasn’t sure I’d reach you.”
“I’m just sat at a café right now with Harry.”
Gil made a displeased noise in the back of his throat. It was no secret he had no taste for children—which included the Potters’ boy, but for all that Sirius often compromised things he loved for his boyfriend, Harry was off limits. “Well I’d like to see you tomorrow.”
“I’m free. I’ve just got to pick up Harry after school, but you could meet me at the shop.”
Gil groaned again. “If I must. But we’re staying at mine, alright?”
Sirius tried not to sigh. Gildeory lived in Ipswich and absolutely hated the train back to London, but what was he to do? Gil refused to stay in London most of the time, only agreeing if he was too pissed to bother with the drive back to his. “Alright. How long are you here for?”
“A week, I think. They’ve got me booked in a Gucci shoot in Prague, then another I believe in Hong Kong, so I’ll be gone at least a fortnight for that.”
Sirius wasn’t entirely sure what to say, and looked over with a grimace as he saw most of the cake was now muddy mash in Harry’s cocoa. “Well I’ve got to run. Need to get the sproglet back to his dad. Chat later?”
“Mm, might do.”
Gil rang off without ceremony, as he always did. Sirius sighed and wondered what it would be like to have sweet I love yous, to have a bubble of excitement at the thought of spending an evening with a lover.
But it was not for him, he supposed.
Grabbing a napkin, he began to mop up Harry’s face, hoping to erase most of the evidence before Lily saw him. When they were done, he grabbed their things and made the short trek over to Stag and Doe.
Pushing the door open, Sirius heard James’ cheerful voice coming from the office, and he poked his head inside, surprised to see another person sat behind James’ desk. Sirius’ first thought was the man was incredibly fit. Adorable in a very sort of unconventional way. Where Gil was sharp edges and a polished smile, this one had a mop of wild curls, olive skin peppered in freckles, and a large nose. He gave Sirius an uncomfortable smile, which showed a slight overbite Sirius found immediately endearing, and his amber eyes held some reservations which Sirius could appreciate.
“Dada!” Harry cried, immediately clambering into James’ lap.
James let out a laugh as he picked the boy up, giving him a tickle before he kissed his cheeks. Settling Harry down, James turned his face toward the door. “Pads?”
“M’here,” Sirius said, reaching out to give James’ shoulder a squeeze. “We stopped for a sweet.”
“I can smell it all over him. Lily is going to murder you where you stand.”
“I haff cake,” Harry said.
“Did you? Was it absolutely delicious?” James asked, putting his nose into the boy’s wild locks.
Harry nodded. “Mmm yep.”
Sirius cleared his throat then, and James straightened. “Oh. Hell, I’m sorry. Si, this is Remus, he’s the new hire. Remus, this is my very best mate, Sirius Black.”
Remus didn’t offer a hand, which set Sirius on edge a little, but he shrugged and offered a salute instead. “Hello.”
“You’ll see him often,” James went on to explain to the new bloke. “Sirius is my unofficial well…everything, I suppose.”
Sirius felt his cheeks light up a little, always unsure what to do about the praise James gave him. Mostly because it was so genuine, and Sirius never understood what he’d ever done to deserve someone like James Potter.
Either way, he took it and put a hand on James’ face, kissing him on the lips gently. James hummed happily, reaching up to squeeze Sirius’ arm. “How was he today? Any reports from the teacher?”
“He’s nearly got his name. Or well, half of it anyway. And they’re working on their colours next week.”
“Good boy,” James said, ruffling Harry’s hair again. “You want to go play for a bit?”
“Um. Yep,” Harry said, then wriggled out of James’ arms who then rose and reached out for Sirius.
“Be back in a tick,” James said to Remus, then he and Sirius walked into the main area where Harry was now pulling his lego from behind the counter. “Seems alright, doesn’t he?”
Sirius glanced back at Remus who was now absorbed in something on James’ computer. “I dunno. Seems a bit rude.”
“You’re one to talk,” James said, but smiled and pulled Sirius closer. “I like him.”
“Has Lils met him yet?”
“No, but he’s sticking round til she gets here. I’m sure it’s going to be good.”
Sirius had no idea where James got his outlook on life, but he wished some days he could borrow it. “Keep me posted. And you know you can rely on me if you need help. I keep telling you.”
“Yes, but you’ve recording all the time and I can’t ask you to take time from that.” James moved his hand up to Sirius’ shoulder, then cupped the back of his neck. “How was it today?”
“Not bad. We’re ahead of schedule right now.” He worried his bottom lip for a second. “Gid’s back in the city.”
Sirius didn’t miss the way James’ face immediately tensed. He knew his best mate had never been fond of the poncy model, but had respected Sirius’ choices in partners. Or until recently when he’d begun to pester Sirius about deserving better.
“Are you not able to get Harry then?” James asked.
Sirius’ eyes went wide. “What? Of course I can. I’m heading to Gid’s tomorrow evening, but you know Harry comes first.”
James relaxed a fraction, moving his hand from Sirius’ neck to his cheek. “I know, love. I’m sorry I just… you know how I feel.”
Sirius bowed his head and leant into the touch. “I know. I…well I’m an idiot, what can I say?”
“You’re not,” James said in a hard voice. “You are not an idiot. I love you.” He pulled Sirius into a firm kiss. “Anyway, you’re freed from Harry duties if you like. You should go rest. I just have to get Remus here trained up so I can start having quiet weekends.”
“Well you know, if you need me to fill in at all, I’m for it. I’m still on for your and Lily’s holiday, alright?”
James grinned. “You’re the best.”
“Nah,” Sirius said, but he grinned widely.
***
Lowering himself onto his sofa, Remus carefully picked through the events of the afternoon. He was a bit overwhelmed, not by the fact that he’d got the job, but how it all seemed to avalanche a bit. He’d gone in just hoping they’d give him an interview, and come out not only hired, but asked to stay on a shift to start his training.
Remus was a bit put off by the sudden appearance of the best mate. The man was good looking—criminally so with chiselled features and lush black hair. He had the rockstar vibe, something which had always put Remus off a bit, but he was fairly quiet and really good with the kid.
James had been another story entirely. Remus had been a bit on edge, wondering if he was being patronised, but when Remus saw the way James mother-henned his mate, he relaxed. James’ system was definitely on the fussy side—for reasons that were obvious, but Remus was able to handle it and he was no idiot. He took to everything with ease, and James was well-pleased by the end of the afternoon.
Remus had got on with the kid too, which surprised him. Remus had never been a “kid-person” so to speak, finding them too sticky and talkative and all around bothersome. But Harry at one point had sat at his feet to play with his lego, and had offered to share his sandwich James had given him.
In the evening, just before Remus was dismissed for the day, Lily had come in. She was the direct opposite to James—a bit sarcastic and no-nonsense, but Remus immediately liked her. She sat with him and went over his CV, asking the practical questions like, “What sort of accommodations will you need on the day to day?” and “Some of the position requires some stocking shelves, how comfortable are you with that?”
She didn’t shy away from mentioning his disability, but didn’t let it define his ability to perform the job either, and Remus decided she was a very good sort indeed.
“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow,” James said, just before Remus headed out. He had a hand on Remus’ shoulder lightly, squeezing it just a bit. “I’m really pleased you came into the shop today.”
Remus wore his first, genuine smile that day. “So am I. Thanks again, mate.”
Now that he was home and relaxing, he thought at the very least, things could be looking up. Stag and Doe wasn’t his ideal career, but he’d take it. He’d take anything where people didn’t talk to him like he was a child. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but he would settle for content.