Work Text:
Sirius first saw the stranger on September 2nd. He was up far earlier than he usually was–he would need to leave work early today to take Hephaestus to the vet, but if he didn’t work a full 8-hours, he would lose his holiday pay for Labor Day. Stupid policy, he thought, waiting for the coffee to brew. The curtains into the backyard were open, and he could see the moon rising above the trees. He was staring blankly in the dark kitchen, pondering the evils of capitalism, when movement caught his eye.
The townhouse he shared with James, Lily, and Harry was a decent size, but the yard was small. There was a pear tree that dropped overripe fruit everywhere, a plastic slide for Harry, and a little shed where James stored the lawn mower and the fancy snowblower he had bought and never used (I like shoveling, Pads! It’s good exercise!) tucked into the corner of the yard, barely 20 feet from the house. There was a gap maybe a foot wide between the fence and the shed wall, one even James had trouble fitting into. They’d found Hephaestus there last year, a tiny scrap of a kitten with goopy eyes and fleas. Now, something else was moving in the narrow spot.
The figure got to their feet, rising from where they had been laying tucked into the narrow gap, hidden from sight in every direction except the kitchen window where Sirius stood. The figure stepped forward into the moonlight and Sirius could see it was a man. He was tall and lanky, wearing several layers of clothes and a messy, scruffy beard. Sirius watched as he lifted a backpack, stuffed to overflowing, and hefted it over the fence before climbing up himself, disappearing into the pre-dawn darkness.
Now, most people’s first inclination upon seeing a homeless man in their private yard after dark would be to call the police. But Sirius Black was not most people. While he had never needed to sleep outside, scrambling over fences and hiding in strangers’ yards, he did know what it was like to have all your worldly possessions stuffed into a single backpack, wearing the clothes that wouldn’t fit, leaving behind the things he couldn’t carry.
He didn’t know what circumstances had led to this man needing to sleep under garden sheds, but all he felt towards the stranger was pity. So he finished making his coffee, drank it, and headed into work without telling James what he had seen.
☽◯☾
He saw the man again on September 17th. Unable to sleep, Sirius had come downstairs to have a cold drink, maybe a snack, and take a second run at going to bed. Filling a glass from the tap, his head jerked up when he saw the silhouette of a man slink across the yard, stopping briefly under the pear tree, before shimmying into the black slot behind the shed. He could not see into that dark space, but he knew the man would be there, eating overripe pears before bedding down for the night. Sirius wondered if it would be the only thing he had eaten today.
☽◯☾
Sirius watched for signs after that, noting when the weeds behind the shed were crumpled in the morning, or when there was less rotting fruit on the grass than usual. Now that he knew what to look for, he was reasonably sure the homeless man spent the night behind the Potter’s shed at least three times a week. So on October 9th, when the forecast called for the first freeze of the year, Sirius snuck out of the house at dusk to leave a thick fleece blanket carelessly crumpled behind the shed. The next morning, it was still there, but the positioning was different, he was sure.
The blanket’s position changed every night after that. It stayed in the little space, but it was always crumpled in a slightly different configuration (Sirius may or may not have been taking pictures to be sure).
October 28th was the first time he saw the man in daylight. Sirius was running late, rushing through his morning coffee, when he glanced up and saw that the stranger was still there. The man was crouched down, crammed into the tiny space, frantically stuffing things into his backpack. It seemed Sirius was not the only one who had overslept. The stranger forced the zipper closed, tossed it over the fence into the alleyway, and hauled himself up onto the top of the fence. As he swung his long legs over to drop down on the other side, he glanced toward the house, and their eyes met.
The man froze, eyes wide. The look on his face, like prey that knows it has been spotted, just about broke Sirius’ heart. He knew that feeling too. So he raised his mug toward the man on the fence and nodded, giving him a small, neighborly smile. The stranger cocked his head, looking confused. Then a car horn blared down the block, the man dropped out of sight, and was gone.
Sirius could hardly focus at work that day. He kept seeing the man’s face as he perched on James’ garden fence, looking utterly baffled at the notion that Sirius was NOT alarmed by his presence. He hoped this scare wouldn’t keep the man away.
The stranger was young, a fact that had been masked by the darkness and his out of control beard. He was dirty and looked exhausted, but he was probably about Sirius’ own age. Had he, too, fled an abusive home? Or had he simply been unable to keep up with rising housing costs, like so many others? He thought about his backyard stranger all day, trying to think how else he could help without scaring the man off.
When he pulled into the driveway at home that night, Sirius parked his bike and headed straight to the backyard. James wasn’t home yet and Lily was volunteering at Harry's preschool, so he had a little time to work before anyone saw him and asked what he was doing.
It took Sirius two hours and some frankly impressive tetris before he finally cleared a space on the floor of the shed. He fetched Lily’s old yoga mat and a pillow from the linen closet, along with an extra blanket. Stopping by the kitchen, Sirius grabbed a handful of granola bars and a half empty bag of pretzels. Then he returned to the shed, where he arranged the mat, the pillow, and the blankets into an approximation of a bed. It wasn’t much, but it was definitely more space than the gap between the fence and the wall. He left the granola bars on the pillow and closed the shed door behind him, careful not to lock it. Then he reached into his pocket and took out the note he had spent all afternoon writing.
Friend-
I know what it’s like to live out of a backpack. The shed is unlocked, and far warmer than this nook, I’m sure. Everyone is out of this house by 9:00, so don’t feel you have to rush away in the morning. I’m the only one who has seen you, and I won’t tell. Before today, I’m pretty sure no one has opened this shed in three years.
What is your name? I’d rather not keep thinking of you as “homeless man”
I mean it. You are welcome here.
-Sirius
He sealed the note inside a sandwich bag with a pen and an extra sheet of paper, then tucked it between the boards of the fence where it would be visible from the alleyway.
☽◯☾
The note was there for four days. The granola bars stayed untouched on the pillow in the shed. The temperature dropped a little further each night, and Sirius fretted. What if the man never came back? The nights were well below freezing now, and there was supposed to be a blizzard later this week.
So when he stumbled into the kitchen on the morning of November second and saw that the note was gone, his heart leapt. He forced himself to wait until after work to check the shed, as he had promised the man no one would disturb him. But by lunchtime, he couldn’t stand it anymore, so he made an excuse to his boss and sped his bike home.
Walking up to the shed, Sirius wasn’t sure what he expected to find. His mind raced with pessimistic possibilities–the snowblower gone, sold for cash, the man passed out or dead on the floor, maybe nothing at all, the food untouched.
When Sirius cracked the shed door, he sighed in relief. The blankets were neatly folded, the mat rolled up. The granola bar wrappers had been placed inside the ziploc bag he’d used for the note, and the single sheet of paper sat beside it. A clean, neat hand had written simply,
Thank you, Sirius. I’m Remus.
The notes became a daily thing. Remus would leave one for Sirius when he slipped away in the morning, and Sirius would leave one for Remus to find in the shed each night.
☽◯☾
11/3
You can leave your stuff here if you want. It must be exhausting carrying it everywhere. I promise not to touch it. -S
11/4
That would be amazing. I prefer to save my strength for jobs whenever I can, and my joints aren’t what they used to be. Thank you for the fruit snacks. -R
11/4
Dang you really crammed a lot into that backpack! If you want, I can wash some of these clothes for you. Also I like your taste in books. -S
11/5
That’s okay, the lady at the laundromat usually lets me throw my things in with her towels in exchange for me using my freakishly long limbs to clean out her dryer vents once a week.
Is the gray cat yours? He’s a sweetheart. -R
11/5
That’s Hephaestus, and yes he is. Do you like spaghettios? They were Harry’s favorite until this week, when Lily bought a whole case. Naturally, he now hates them. She was going to take them to the food bank but I asked if I could have them. -S
11/6
I love spaghettios. I love anything with protein that won’t spoil, honestly.
I’m going out to Lansing to visit my mom this week, so I won’t be here for a couple days. Didn’t want you to think I’d frozen in a ditch somewhere. -R
11/6
Will you be coming back
Oh will you be staying with her from n
How are you getting there? Be safe, don’t get into any serial killer vans! -S
There was no new note the next morning, and the blankets on the floor of the shed were untouched for several days before Sirius caught a glimpse of Remus climbing over the fence late one night. He had taken to sitting near the window, because he liked to see the sunset, not because he was watching for Remus. That would be silly.
Sirius was antsy all through his shift the next day. He hurried home after work and rushed to the shed, where there was–finally!–a new note.
11/11
S-
I have returned, unmurdered and everything. No worries, Mom sent me money for a train. She lives in a facility up there, and I’m only allowed to crash on her couch for so long before the staff gives me the boot.
Did you see your neighbors painted their front door? Hideous.
-R
11/11
Remus-
Glad to see you are un-serial killed. That would have been a bummer. I agree the door is awful, but Xenophilius (yes, that really is his name) grows the best ah .. produce in town. Small price to pay, really.
I think Hephaestus missed you, he’s been yowling at the door of the shed the past two nights.
-Sirius
11/12
Aww, buddy. I confess I missed him too. He’s an excellent bunkmate. Keeps the mice off me and everything.
Thank you for the butter chicken, it was amazing! Did you make it? I haven’t had indian food since uni, didn’t realize how much I missed it.
-Remus
P.S. You can say weed, I promise I’m not a cop.
11/12
Remus-
I bought some mousetraps for you to set out in case Hephaestus is ever not around. They’re the live catch kind, so just leave the traps if you catch any and I’ll take them to the field by my work.
I wish I could take credit for the chicken, but that was James. He’s a second generation immigrant and his family recipes are to die for. I’ll try to snag you some next time he makes Papri Chaat.
What did you study in uni? I was a chemistry major before I had to drop out.
-Sirius
11/13
Sirius-
I was an english major. And clearly, that was an excellent decision that has provided me with a lucrative and fulfilling career!
Kidding. But I did love my time there. I got in on a scholarship (hold your applause) and being able to just read and write and talk about reading and writing without worrying over money for four years was .. a dream.
Why did you have to drop out? If that’s not too personal.
-Remus
11/13
R-
I got outed and my parents cut me off. Kicked me out and froze my accounts. None of the money was ever really MINE, I guess, but it sucked that I had to leave behind my record collection when I couldn’t fit it in my bag. James’ parents took me in for a while, but without Daddy’s money I couldn’t stay in school, so I got a job and followed James when he got married and moved out.
It’s fine, my parents sucked anyway.
What is your favorite book?
-Sirius
11/14
S-
Oh God you can’t just ask me something like that! I’ve been here agonizing over the answer for at least an hour when I should have been sleeping. I eventually honed the list down to three, so that will have to be sufficient for you. Pride and Prejudice, The Tempest, and We are Legion (We are Bob). No, I am not accepting critiques at this time. Have you read any of those?
Sucks about your family. But I still haven’t come out to my mom, so I’m not one to judge.
-Remus
☽◯☾
Sirius woke to the sound of Lily screaming. He lurched upright and out of bed, heading for the door. The room spun before he could reach it, and he fell, coughing. What on earth–?!
“Lily, take Harry and go!” James’ voice. Sirius forced himself to his feet and sucked in a breath of pure smoke. He fell again, vision blacking out as he coughed and coughed and coughed. Down on the floor, the air was a little clearer.
Fire, he realized. The house is on fire.
Something crashed into him, slamming him down on the floor as a body toppled over his. James rolled over, groaning. “Sirius?”
“James!” Coughing. Sirius managed to rise to hands and knees. “James, where are you?” He’d been here just a second ago, hadn’t he? He had tripped over Sirius, coming to try and get him. Sirius felt blindly in the dark, suddenly aware of how hot it was in his room.
His hand hit James’ leg and they both cried out. “We need to go!” James shouted. “Follow me!” Together they crawled into the hallway and down the stairs. Over the roar of the fire and his own ragged coughing, Sirius heard sirens.
The first floor was a little clearer, and they were able to move better, bent at the waist and stumbling into furniture. The back door was closer, but that way was a wall of fire. They careened to the right, through the living room until finally, Sirius saw the door. The front door stood wide open, and he could see flashing lights.
They burst out into the freezing night, sock feet crunching on the frosty grass. Sirius crashed into something and nearly fell, but strong gloved hands gripped his arms. A masked face loomed above him, shouting, and Sirius panicked, thrashing to get away.
“—inside?!”
What?
The face shouted again, but Sirius couldn’t hear it. He tried to yank out of the thing’s grip, but it had him by the arm, dragging Sirius across the lawn. Towards the lights. The firetruck.
Oh!
Lily was running towards them, clutching Harry to her chest. She and James slammed into one another, gasping, coughing, crying.
The fireman–fireman!–stepped forward and shook James by the shoulder.
“Is anyone else still inside?!” he shouted, voice muffled by his mask.
“No!” James cried, Harry’s arms around his neck. “No, it's just us–”
A sudden horror rushed over Sirius. “YES!” he shouted, lurching forward. “The shed–in the backyard–there’s a man who sleeps in there, please, you have to get him!”
The fireman reacted immediately, calling orders into the radio and directing the others. Sirius felt cold tears on his face and didn’t know if they were from the smoke or the fear. James was looking at him oddly, and Sirius realized he was breathing much too fast. A woman in blue coveralls threw a blanket around him. He turned to her, frantic.
“Remus, his name’s Remus, he sleeps in the shed because it's so cold out and he’s homeless. His mom’s sick, he likes old books, please!” He hadn’t seen the backyard, but the kitchen was all fire when he and James ran past. Oh God, Remus.
It was an agonizing ten minutes, during which the paramedic tried to get Sirius to take an oxygen mask, or at least sit down. He couldn’t. Mrs. Figg from across the street took Lily and Harry into her house to get warm, but James stayed with him. He didn’t even have his glasses. Sirius gripped his hand so hard it must have hurt, but James didn’t complain.
Finally, the gate by the garage slammed open and two men ran through. One of them carried a limp figure over his shoulders.
Sirius cried out and tried to run forward, but James held him back. “Wait, Pads, let the paramedics work.”
The firefighter laid Remus down on a gurney, and Sirius could see that his chest was bare, his many layers burned away, leaving raw skin underneath. Someone cut through what was left of Remus’ shirt while another man placed a mask over his face. With the efficient grace of a well-practiced team, they loaded Remus into the back of the ambulance and slammed the doors behind them, speeding off as the siren cut through the night once more.
☽◯☾
The firefighters insisted that they all go to the hospital to be checked out. “Smoke inhalation’s no joke” he said sternly, “People who seem fine at first can even die of it hours or even days later.”
So Sirius and the three Potters piled into another ambulance, and headed (sans lights and sirens) to the nearest hospital. The doctors gave them oxygen, took blood samples, and eventually declared them okay to go home.
Only there was no home to go to. Sirius had seen enough as they drove away to know the townhouse would be a total loss. A nice man in a blue sweater with a badge that said “Victim’s Advocate” drove them to a hotel, where they took turns showering before changing into the scrubs the firefighters had left for them.
By now it was morning, but they were exhausted. Harry had cried himself to sleep hours ago. Lily laid down next to his tiny body and James and Sirius fell into the other bed. They both still smelled of smoke. James pulled the sheets over their heads like they did when they were little, and leaned in to whisper.
“So who is this Remus guy?”
Sirius closed his eyes, feeling them burn again. He didn’t think they’d stopped since he woke up in his smoke filled bedroom. “He’s just a guy. I saw him sleeping out there, trying to stay warm between the shed and the fence. He only had a backpack, and I dunno Jamie, I felt bad for him. I wanted to make life a little easier for him, so I left him a blanket. Then when it started to get colder I left the shed unlocked so he could sleep in there. I know I should have told you, but he’s a really good guy, James, and life has been so hard on him.”
Sirius could just make out the glint of James’ eyes in the darkness. “You’re a good person, Sirius. You know what it is to have a hard life, so you do whatever you can to make things nicer for other people. I wish I’d have known, I’d have offered him a shower or something.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad at you for helping someone, Padfoot?”
Sirius sniffed, putting his hands over his face. “I just–you have Harry, and I let a strange man sleep in our yard without telling you.”
“Okay, yea, when you put it that way it does sound bad. But I know you, Sirius, you have a good sense of character. If you’d thought this guy was bad news, even for a second, you’d have sent him packing.”
They were silent for a long minute.
“All our things, Jamie. My bike, Harry’s toys, all your Mom’s recipe books …”
James sighed. “I know, Pads. But we have savings, and insurance, and good jobs all around. We’ll start fresh. We’ll be okay. And you know there’s always–”
“No.”
“Okay. I’m just saying, if there was ever a time …”
“I don’t need it.”
James just patted his arm and closed his eyes. After a minute, his breathing quieted as he drifted off to sleep.
Hours later, Sirius woke to the gentle sound of Harry’s toddler babble. He was standing at the window with his head under the curtains, talking excitedly to no one about what he saw.
“pool! they have. duck. harry play duck? play pool. mama! splash duck in pool.”
Next to him, James groaned, feeling for his glasses, then remembering. “Shit.”
“shit!” Harry cried.
Lily started laughing.
☽◯☾
Eventually, Sirius and Harry went down to the pool while James and Lily tried to get ahold of someone at their insurance company. They rolled up their scrub pants and splashed around in the shallow end until it started to get dark. By then, Harry was getting cranky, as neither of them had had anything to eat yet today. Finally James appeared, scooping Harry out of the water and kissing his hair. Harry, of course, hated this and began to scream. James sighed. “Come on up to the room. Lils has pizza for us.”
The promise of pizza sufficiently mollified Harry, and they were allowed to leave the pool in peace. Back in their room, Lily had procured a change of clothes for each of them, a stuffed duck for Harry, and two jumbo size pepperoni pizzas.
“Turns out, there’s charities for this exact situation.” Lily explained while they ate. “They make care packages with toothbrushes, socks, pre-paid cell phones, and clothes in a variety of sizes. They also gave me a gift card to walmart, and another to the thrift store so we can get whatever else we need.”
“Like clothes with some semblance of taste?” James asked, looking ruefully down at his New England Patriots AFC Championship t-shirt.
“Like shoes you dolt.” Lily replied. “And we’ll have to see about finding you some second hand glasses until you can order a new pair to your prescription. I’m amazed you can even read that shirt.”
“I did look suspicious trying to find our room number with only six inches of vision. You okay, Padfoot? You’ve only eaten four slices, what happened to your appetite?”
Sirius huffed a small pity laugh at James’ joke. “I keep thinking about Remus. I should have remembered he was back there sooner, I should have gone to get him. Now I don’t even know if he’s okay.”
James and Lily looked at each other. “I spoke to the firefighters in charge of our house today.” James said. “Or, what’s left of it. He said he had heard from the hospital that Remus had been admitted, but was expected to make a full recovery. You could probably go see him tomorrow, if you wanted.”
Sirius thought about it. He’d never actually spoken to Remus before, but the man in his notes had been funny, sweet, and earnest. He wanted to know more.
“Yea, I think I will.”
☽◯☾
Remus was asleep when Sirius arrived. It had taken a lot of fast talking, and a little bit of lying, but he’d finally made it in. According to the doctor, Remus had suffered second-degree burns to his arms, chest, and neck. He had some lung damage from the superheated air, and lingering hypoxia due to smoke inhalation. He was on some heavy pain medications, and would require oxygen for at least the next 48 hours. “Barring infection or other complications, we don’t expect him to need skin grafts. With time, he should make a full recovery.”
“When do you think he’ll be discharged?” Sirius asked.
“Tomorrow evening at the absolute earliest. But I imagine it will be closer to a week.”
Sirius frowned. “Has he woken up yet?”
“No. He came off the ventilator about an hour ago, and has been breathing well since then. We’ve started tapering off his sedation, and he’s due for more pain medication in about two hours. If he's going to wake up today, it’ll be then.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I’ll stay with him.”
The doctor left the room, and Sirius walked closer to get his first good look at Remus.
He was bare-chested, covered in leads and bandages. His ragged beard had been singed, and they had shaved what was left to make room for the oxygen mask, and he looked even younger without it. Someone had cleaned his face and rinsed his hair–it was a pale brown that was precisely the same shade as his skin, giving him an ethereal, almost monochrome look. His arms were frighteningly thin, and Sirius knew when the bandages came off he would be able to count every rib. There was a single tattoo, the phases of the moon along his collar bone. He wondered why Remus had chosen it.
Sirius placed the little package he’d been carrying on the nightstand and settled down to wait.
☽◯☾
Two episodes of “Finding Bigfoot” and one “Say Yes to the Dress” later, Remus stirred. He groaned under the oxygen mask and Sirius jumped to his feet, switching off the TV.
“Hey,” he said softly, leaning over the bed, and Remus’ eyes focused on his face. “Don’t try to talk just yet. You breathed in a lot of smoke, plus they had you on a ventilator for a while, so I’d imagine your throat is pretty scratched up.”
Remus’ eyes rolled over the room, taking in the many monitors and tubes attached to his body before settling back on Sirius. He opened his mouth, trying to speak but only faint, breathy noises came out.
“Wha– whe– “
Sirius shushed him. “You’re in the hospital. There was a fire at my house while you were sleeping in the shed. But we’re okay, we all got out, you’re the only one that got hurt. You had some bad smoke inhalation, and you have some burns on your arms and chest, but the doctors say you’ll be okay.”
Remus stared at him, processing this. His head fell back against the pillow as he turned to look at the ceiling.
“Fuck.” he said.
Sirius laughed out loud, startling Remus, who gave him a reproachful glare. “Sorry, sorry!” Sirius gasped, laughing helplessly. “It’s just–” his breathless laughter shifted into small, relentless lung spasms, and he struggled to get enough air to cough properly. Remus looked alarmed, fumbling his burned fingers on the bed to find the help button. Finally Sirius got a breath in, and was able to clear his lungs. Remus held the little remote, finger hovering over the call button. He raised his eyebrows at Sirius.
“You good?” he asked.
“Yea, yea I’m okay.” Sirius panted. “It’s just–I’ve never heard your voice before, and the first word out of your mouth–” he laughed again, softer, careful not to trigger the spasms.
Remus held his gaze a moment before cracking, chuckling once to himself. “I wish I could say that paints me in a bad light, but it’s pretty on brand for me. Potty mouth, my mom used to say.” His eyes widened. “Oh fuck I’m gonna have to call her aren’t I–stop laughing!”
Sirius had snickered at the curse, and this did not help. He laughed and coughed and laughed some more, until the infectious gales dragged Remus down too. The nurse that came running in response to Remus’ heart rate spike found them both gasping helplessly, coughing and wincing all the while. She folded her arms and waited for them to hastily pull themselves under control, looking distinctly unamused.
She took Remus’ vitals, checked his burns, and switched him from a mask to cannula oxygen. Then she left, with instructions to “save any antics for when your lungs are at full capacity.”
When the door closed behind her, Sirius met Remus’ eyes with a guilty wince. “Sorry I compromised your recovery with my terrible sense of humor.”
“No no, I believe my potty mouth was the real danger.” Remus replied, adjusting his bed so he was sitting more upright. The conversation lapsed, neither of them quite sure what to say now. Finally Remus cleared his throat. “You said everyone else was okay?”
“Yea, even Hephaestus. Mrs Figg texted to say he showed up on her doorstep this morning, unbothered, shouting for someone to give him breakfast.”
“Do they know what happened?”
“Something about lint buildup in the dryer vent, I guess it overheated and caught fire.”
“Ah.” Remus hesitated, as if not sure how to ask his next question. “So, your house …”
“A total loss, I’m afraid.”
His face fell. “Oh damn. I’m so sorry, Sirius.”
Sirius shifted in his chair, coughing again to cover the hitch in his voice. “Yea, well. It’s just stuff.”
“As someone who can’t own anything more than what fits in my backpack, I can tell you that stuff is pretty important. Not as important as people, but it’s not nothing.”
Sirius looked away, blinking rapidly. His bike. His records. The little watercolor painting Regulus had given him the Christmas before he ran away. All gone.
“Well, we probably own about the same amount of stuff now,” Sirius said, trying to cover his emotions with a bad joke. “Oh, that reminds me.”
Leaning forward, he picked up the brown paper package he’d set on Remus’ nightstand when he first arrived. “James and I went to a thrift store to get some clothes and shoes. I didn’t know what size you were, so I don’t have any of that, but I did get you these.”
Remus looked down at the gift, not moving to open it. He was silent for a long minute before meeting Sirius’ eyes.
“Why did you let me stay?” he asked.
“What?”
“All those months ago. You let me sleep in your yard, you left me food, why?”
Sirius shrugged. “You’re a person.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I do now. Go on, open it.”
Remus looked at him for another moment before finally ripping the paper off what Sirius had brought him. A paperback copy each of Pride and Prejudice and The Tempest. Remus took a shaky breath when he saw them.
“The shed’s gone.” Sirius said softly. “And anything you had in your backpack with it. I looked for the other book, but they didn’t have it.”
Remus brushed the pages of The Tempest back and forth with his thumb. “Someone stole my suitcase my first week on the street.” He said. “And the Police tossed all my stuff when they cleaned out our camp last year. I’ve started over before.” He took a shaky breath, looking around the room. “Never with massive medical debt though.” He tried to sound lighthearted but his voice cracked on the last word. He shook his head and forced a smile onto his pained face. “Nothing to lose, huh? I’m already homeless.”
“You won’t be homeless.” Sirius said, suddenly sure of himself. “You’ll come live with me.”
He had been toying with the idea all day, but Remus didn’t know him from Adam, he knew how the offer would seem. Suspicious. Heavy. Baited. Sirius had already known the Potters when their offer to move in came, and he was still suspicious. Something about being a young, queer person out on the streets made you deeply suspicious of anything that came without an obvious price.
“I–what?” Remus asked, looking shocked. “I–we–you don’t have anywhere to live either!”
“James is finding us a short term lease while we look for a more permanent situation.”
“You don’t even know me!”
“I’d like to.” Sirius shut his mouth with an audible click. That last sentence had surprised them both, but as he thought on it he realized it was true. He only had a few weeks of notes to go off, but everything he saw of Remus made him want to see more.
Remus was staring at him, eyes overbright. He tried to speak twice before he finally hung his head and addressed his hands.
“I have no money, Sirius. I have no skills. Even in ideal circumstances I have chronic pain that means I can’t hold a job longer than a month. I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather keep the number of people dragged down by me to a minimum.”
Sirius looked at him, this stranger he barely knew, with his slumped shoulders and singed curls. And sighed.
He cleared his throat. “Remus, there’s something I should tell you. You know my disgusting family? Well they are also disgustingly rich. They don’t like me, but my uncle did, and he set me up with a trust. I haven’t touched it, because I didn’t want anything of theirs, I wanted to prove I could do it on my own. But I think … I think my uncle would kick my ass if he knew I had the means to help another person and refused to do so out of pride.” Remus took a shaky breath. “So if I’m getting over my pride, then you can too. Let’s help each other.” He went for the throat. “Plus, what would your mom say if she knew you had a free and safe place to stay, and you turned it down?”
Remus clenched his fists in the bedsheets, then slowly let them uncurl. He raised his head to meet Sirius’ eyes, and nodded.
☽◯☾ Six months later ☽◯☾
“And this will be your room!”
Harry gasped in the huge, dramatic way only toddlers can, and ran forward to fall hard onto the bed. “Duckies!” he cried, trying to hug the duck-patterned quilt. He’d become rather fond of ducks since receiving the donated stuffed one the day after the fire.
Lily drew Harry over to look at the little bookcase by the window, and James turned his head to look at Sirius as they walked downstairs. “So? Does it meet the Padfoot Standard of Excellence?”
“It’s perfect, Prongs.”
The house was large. Four bedrooms upstairs, and a two bedroom basement suite with its own kitchen and laundry. The yard was large and rambling, and Remus had already gotten started on tilling a garden patch. Sirius watched him through the kitchen window, eyes lingering on the lines of his bare arms and sweat-damp shirt.
Something poked him in the side. He turned to find James leering at him. “Are you sure you’ll be needing two bedrooms down there?” he teased.
Sirius shoved him. “He’s still barely comfortable with this situation, Jamie, give him a minute before you try to make him a housewife.”
After the fire, the five of them had crammed into a run-down rental property just outside of the city. James and Lily had fallen in love with the neighborhood, and began looking at listings in the area. Sirius (with the help of Alphard’s trust) had fronted him half the downpayment and would be contributing to the mortgage and utilities going forward. He’d been pleasantly shocked by the six digits in there. He’d forgotten how obscene the Black family wealth was.
He had been right in thinking he and Remus would get along. They had clicked immediately–which was odd considering they shared almost no interests. Sirius liked motorcycles and classic rock, while Remus liked long sweaters and Jane Austen. But somehow, they just worked. They got on like–well, like a house on fire. And if lately he had begun to feel the stirrings of a different kind of fire? The kind that raced up his arm when Remus brushed past him, or lingered in his cheeks after a particularly long look? Well. There was no rush.
They had time.