Chapter Text
It was usually quiet in the library by virtue of being, you know, a library. But it seemed that today, all of those rules typically associated with libraries and academia flew out the window.
Remus was sitting in his usual spot on the third floor among the book stacks, hurling his thoughts onto paper in a messy cursive scrawl that was practically impossible for anyone else to read. He had to write this paper and he had to write it soon. Ten pages due in two days and he hadn't even written a word. He liked to sit up here on the third floor because of the two glorious words above the entryway at the top of the stairs: silent study. See, Remus didn't mind a bit of natural white noise, but when he was on a time crunch? Silence was the only way.
He liked to take notes by hand, so all he could hear was the light tapping of other people's keyboards and his own feverish pen on paper.
Then, some strange amalgamation of sound a few tables away from his own. He frowned and paused his brainstorm to gather his surroundings. That—it was music. Music! On the third floor! Good god, they really were just letting anybody into the library. On the third floor, no less.
He dropped his pen onto the desk with a bit more irritation than he expected and crossed his arms. There was no way he could possibly write a paper with music playing. He listened for another few moments and determined that this mystery library intruder was playing Bowie.
Well, he thought. At least they've got good taste.
But good taste or not, he really couldn't focus with Starman wafting through the stacks. With a rather loud sigh, he stood from his seat and walked past Kafka, Kerouac, Lewis, until he was in eyeshot of the Bowie offender. God, he really wasn't cut out for this.
In front of him sat one of the most captivating people he'd ever seen. First and foremost, he clearly had no regard for decorum as his legs were thrown upon the tabletop, showing off his old boots and jeans covered in rock band patchwork. His dark hair fell to his shoulders in curls or waves or whatever the perfect shape was. And sure, why not add a leather jacket into the mix. Remus could feel his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Of course the one time there's a disruption in the library that he actually cares about, it's instigated by the most attractive man he's ever seen in his life.
The boy sat there, wired earphones in his ears listening to Bowie at a volume that would surely cause his eardrums to burst. Oblivious to the world, the people glaring at him from nearby tables, Remus staring at him from the stacks.
After another entirely-too-long-moment, Remus cleared his throat, leaning against the shelf beside him. Nothing. He tried again, louder, and when nothing came of it he abandoned all pretense of nerves and walked right up to the boy and motioned to his cassette player.
Then, and you wouldn't believe it, the boy grinned and took out his earphones, not even bothering to turn the music down.
"How can I help you?" he asked, a light in his eyes and a crook in his mouth. Remus sighed and gestured toward the cassette player again.
"Your music is unbelievably loud, and the third floor is silent study."
"Oh, is it really?"
"Yeah."
"Shame. You lot all look like you could use some good music." He shrugged and moved to put his earphones back in when Remus stopped him.
"Okay, so it seems I've got to spell it out for you then. Would you be so kind as to turn your music down so that those of us here to actually get anything done can do that?" Again, a glint in the boy's eye.
"What's your name, then?"
Remus frowned. "That's not an answer."
"No, it's a question. Would you happen to have an answer?"
Remus was a bit lost now. It felt like he was speaking to a doll, or something with strange pre-programmed responses.
"I'm Remus," he said begrudgingly. "Now could you please—"
"Remus? Nice name. I'm Sirius."
"Great. Wonderful. Now if we could get back to the—"
"See, Remus, the problem goes something like this: I've got a short film due for Stockton's class in two weeks and it's only half-done because my friends dipped out on me. Complaining about my demands, my blocking, my script. It's my bloody project!" Sirius was in it now, and he'd pushed his headphones aside for the sake of story. Remus found himself listening despite himself. "So I told them it's my project and they quit on me! It's due in two weeks and they went and quit on me."
Remus could feel his paper slipping from his mind with each passing second. "And what does this have to do with the library?"
"Well, see, as much as I hate studying and all that, I have to admit it's a pretty picturesque scene here." Sirius looked around appreciatively, his gaze landing on Remus. Remus raised a brow slightly. Sirius pointed to a point a bit left of where Remus was standing. Remus peered over at the stack he was indicating and let out a disbelieving laugh as he saw a dim red light.
"You're recording yourself listening to Bowie in the library."
Sirius raised his brows. "You like Bowie?"
"Not the point," Remus said, ignoring the nice feeling he had from the way that he seemed to have piqued such an enthralling person's interest. "Why here?"
"I told you, it's picturesque."
Remus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, can't you just overlay Bowie onto the video when you edit it or something? It's loud."
Sirius looked at Remus for a moment and shrugged. "It's part of the ambience."
"Oh for fuck's sake," Remus muttered and sat down across from Sirius at the table. Sirius's eyes widened a bit, his mouth turned up ever so slightly. Remus reached for the cassette player, but Sirius pulled it close to him.
"What, you want to listen for yourself?"
Remus buried his head in his hands for a second and gave Sirius an indecipherable look. "Can't you just turn it down?"
"Sorry, Remus. It's a package deal."
Remus scoffed. "What is? You can't have the leather jacket and Queen tee without an obnoxiously loud cassette in hand?"
Sirius set the cassette down and leaned forward, his arms reaching Remus's in the middle of the table. "Exactly," he smiled, and leaned backward again.
"God, you're infuriating," Remus mumbled.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Look, I've got a ten-page paper due in two days and I've not written a word of it so if you'd kindly fuck off and come back when it's empty, I'm sure we'd all appreciate that."
Sirius frowned. "You know, you're using awfully loud language for a silent study area."
Remus closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, massaging his temple to field the encroaching insanity. "Is there anything I can say to make you control your music?"
"Wanna help me make a movie?"
It was such a quick response that Remus wasn't sure what to say for a few moments.
"What?"
"A movie. My friends ditched me and I need some actors. You in?"
"You can't—what does this have to do with—" Remus paused to run his hands through his hair. "You know I could probably just go have a chat with one of the librarians and I wouldn't have to do any of this?"
"Go ahead," Sirius said, sweeping an arm out as an invitation.
"Nothing's stopping you. But I really do need someone to help me."
The way Sirius was looking at him, it was genuine. And maybe if he said yes he could just go back to his paper. "I have a paper to write," Remus hedged. "But I might have time—"
"Oh, thank god," Sirius said, grabbing his bag off the floor and pulling out a notepad. "Throw your number on here and I'll text you."
Remus frowned slightly. "I don't have that much time," he said, grabbing a pen from behind his ear, "just so you know."
"That's fine," Sirius said with a wave of his hand. "I'll figure it out. Mind grabbing that camera for me?" He pointed toward the camera from before, and Remus raised a brow and let out a strange breath that must have been some kind of laugh.
"Would this happen to be a part of the film?"
Sirius shrugged, a playful look in his eye. "Impossible to say."
Remus shook his head and turned away before Sirius could see the quirk in his lips. He grabbed the camera and tossed it to Sirius, who caught it nimbly. "So, what's this film about, then?"
Sirius gave him a look as he tucked his camera back into his bag. "Thought you had a paper to write?"
Remus shrugged. He was two seconds away from going back to his quiet corner, but Sirius started talking again.
"It was supposed to be a party scene. A group of friends heads out to a party and one of them finds love for a minute. Then things fall apart."
"How so?"
"Guess you'll have to text me to find out," Sirius said, standing. A piece of paper hit Remus's hand. Sirius's number. He shot Remus a wink and threw his bag over his shoulder. As he walked away, Remus realized that he took his pen with him. Damn it. It was his favorite, too.