A Breath of Fresh Air

Throughout his entire life, Sirius had always felt… stuffy. In an almost indescribable way. It wasn’t that anything he owned was technically stuffy, it just felt that way. In all actuality, Sirius lived in what many people would consider luxury. He had more than some people could ever dream of. More of everything— and he meant it.

A private jet? Sirius had it. Acres upon acres of land? Sirius had that too.

Balls and Galas? Formal dinners? Butlers? Maids? Chauffeurs? Check, check, check.

All of it was checked off. Anything anyone could conjure up in their mind; any of their wildest dreams, things they’ve always felt unachievable, things they couldn’t even picture in their minds eye— Sirius could find a way to get it.

He had everything he could ever want— all he desired, at the lift of a pinky. The guarantee of a workless life without even a sliver of worry.

Sirius had it all. He truly did.

…

So why the hell did his life feel so fucking stuffy?

Maybe it was because of the sweat beading on the back of his neck beneath his freshly trimmed hair— or perhaps the starkness of his collar, which seemed to strangle him no matter how many times it was tugged on.

Maybe it was his perfectly polished oxfords he wore on his feet— fitted exactly to his size, but somehow still a bit suffocating around the edges.

It could be the food he ate at every meal, which always seemed to fill his stomach to the brim, while somehow still leaving him feeling empty.

Maybe the stuffiness had nothing to do with anything superficial— nothing to do with the size of his manor, or the itchiness of his green, velvet bedsheets. It probably wasn’t even to due with his awful pants, which, despite many adjustments, still seemed to squeeze uncomfortably around his thighs.

The stuffiness was probably a result of Sirius’s life as a whole. Everything he endured, every discomfort, all combined into one. One feeling. One irritating, unrelenting emotion.

The feeling of being trapped. Caged. Locked away.

It was all just so empty. His life, his house, his family. Everything Sirius had ever known was lifeless. Statuesque, even.

Sometimes Sirius felt like he was being featured in some type of museum— his home on display for all to see as he sat there, stone still at dinning table, unable to do or say anything.

Was this how everyone felt? Was that just how life was? That was what his mom had always said, but Sirius knew well enough to not trust half of the things which came out of that woman’s mouth.

Sirius tugged on his collar again, wiping the sweat from his hands off onto his pants as he walked. Was all of this sweat from stress, or the heat? Sirius was unsure.

He squinted up at the blinding rays of sun through the gaps between his fingers, his face scrunching up against the light. God— couldn’t he have picked literally any other day? Why’d he have to go run off on the hottest day of the fucking year?

Sirius knew he only had a bit of time. Only a couple hours— at most— before someone would come along. He could only hope his mother wouldn’t attempt to locate him herself— god could only imagine the shit show that’d be.

His mom, Walburga Black, hanging out of their car, waving her hand and screeching as she sped past, flinging dust at Sirius’s freshly ironed, white shirt. Oh, a sight that’d be. He could almost laugh at the image, if it didn’t seem so conceivable.

In all honesty, Walburga would never commit such an act of mannerless nonsense, but it didn’t hurt to imagine.

Sirius picked up his pace, running a final, frantic hand through his black curls before shoving them in his front pockets— the sound of his shoes clicking against the pavement almost deafening to his ears.

Really, he didn’t even know why he was out here. He couldn’t even remember his exact reason for leaving. All he could recall was that final feeling of hopelessness, and the overwhelming need to have a moment to himself, even if just for an hour.

What he could remember, however, was the process of leaving itself. He could remember how easy it seemed to be, and how ridiculous it felt to just waltz out of the house he’d been trapped in for sixteen years, with no one around to call him back.

He simply just hadn’t wanted to do it that day. All of the pretending. All of the acting. It just seemed like too much to handle for some reason.

He didn’t want to do his boring, summer classes any longer. He didn’t want to deal with his bitchy tutors, or pointed scowls from his younger brother. He just didn’t want any of it.

He remembered as he dressed for the day, half heartedly attempting to tussle his curls in the washroom mirror, that Sirius just decided it wasn’t worth it. None of it. Everything he’d done all summer— all of his life, really— was all for nothing. He’d lived sixteen fucking years, and had absolutely nothing to show for it. He’d done nothing. Achieved nothing. All he’d ever done was what he was told, and that never truly felt like an accomplishment.

He wanted a change. He couldn’t keep doing the same fucking thing over and over. Endlessly.

Sirius remembered feeling his hands drop from his hair to his sides with a quiet thump, distantly noting the faint sound of his mother calling him from downstairs. At the time, he heard it all like he was underwater— the sounds and voices all muffled and distorted through the waves as he swam, his hair flowing like strands of silk, and his breath creating a large cloud of tiny bubbles.

He could just see the sky from above the water— his pale hand reaching up towards it, just a few kicks away from breaking the surface. He was just a few kicks away. All he had to do was keep swimming.

And that was exactly what he planned to do.

Sure, that was all just some odd daydream— some may even say if was just a shitty excuse to do an idiotic thing— but it all felt so real in the moment. So unbelievably real. He could feel the water between his fingers; feel the way his entire body seemed to float, his legs kicking through the pressure of the waves. If he tried hard enough, he could even imagine the fish surrounding him— taunting him to go farther. To take that final leap of faith.

For the first time in his life, Sirius realized he had control of his own body. Sure, there’d be consequences when he broke from the strange, little trance he’d been put under, but until then, Sirius just could leave.

He could just fucking leave.

And so he did.

He walked out of that house. He walked all the way down the stone driveway. Walked right through the gap between their iron fence and the hedges lined between his and their neighbor’s house. He just walked— no destination in sight, no map in hand, and absolutely no idea where the hell he was.

But miraculously, Sirius didn’t care. He just felt so free. He feels so free. It was all so freeing. He could do anything he wanted— go anywhere he wanted to go. Hell, if he walked far enough, he didn’t even have to go back! There was nothing telling him he had to return— just the soft summer breeze through his hair, and the radiating heat warming every inch of his body, begging him to continue. To take another step. And another after that.

The heat was a bit stifling, but Sirius’d take it any day if it meant he could be rid of the icy chill which seemed to permeate his home no matter the season. He could handle the heat if it meant he didn’t have to meet his parents cold glares; the grip of their hands like icy daggers stabbing into his skin. His entire life was like an icicle— his home just one, big, frozen palace. Sirius could handle the heat. In fact, he welcomed the heat. This was what he’d been looking for— this was that feeling he’d been craving for longer than he could remember.

It was insane that all it took to achieve it was a few steps out of the front door. God, his life felt like a joke.

Sirius took a deep breath, inhaling it all as he looked up to the sun once again— his eyes squeezed shut, and his lungs filling with fresh air. Standing here— a mile or so away from his manor— Sirius felt nothing could stop him. This was his moment. This was his break. His chance for a first breath of fresh air.

This was it.

He didn’t even care that he was technically lost in a city he’d never bothered to learn his way around— didn’t care that the pavement began to turn to dirt; the street lamps being replaced by trees, and the fire hydrants for shrubbery. He didn’t care that the sun seemed to disappear, being filtered through the blanketed layer of the tree’s leaves, and leaving nothing but a few stray rays of sun to decorate and reflect off of the ground in a scatter of soft light.

He didn’t care when thorns got caught on the hems of his pants, or when he stumbled over a rock, nearly falling face first into the trunk of a tree. He just didn’t care.

Who’d have though not caring could be so
liberating.

Sirius didn’t know how long he wandered through that random patch of woods. All he knew was that the small dirt path slowly led him to a wider, dirt road, and that the sun was slowly peaking to the top of the sky, streaking the forest in sunlight like a kaleidoscope of color. He knew the sweat on the back of his neck seemed to cool, and the breeze which danced between the trees tangled up his curls— but he also knew he didn’t care. He really, really didn’t.

Sirius had a patch of woods like this in his own backyard, but he’d never found it as beautiful as he did that day. He never admired the flowers, or ran his hands over the bark of the trees, letting brown mud dust over the surface of his soft hands. He, of course, never smiled to himself as he hummed an unfamiliar tune, a slight pep appearing in his step as he listened to the chorus of the chirping, summer birds— adjusting his hum to match the melody of their song.

Sirius had always hated the sound of those birds. Why had he hated them?

Sirius hadn’t realized how hungry he’d become until he noticed a small building in a distant clearing— his stomach grumbling as he remembered the food he’d left to go cold on the table, along with the undoubtedly furious wrath of this mother as she realized her precious, little heir was missing. He could suddenly feel the parch of his throat, and the emptiness of his pockets— devoid of any money whatsoever.

Shit.

It was no surprise Sirius hadn’t bothered to bring any money. Why would he have? He had no reason to. Sirius had never been concerned with money. He had never spent a cent of his own savings. Why would he remember something so seemingly insignificant?

…

How the hell did he forget to bring fucking money? God— was he stupid?

In hindsight, Sirius hadn’t thought too far into the future in terms of his little escape mission. In fact, he even hadn’t thought past ‘Get out.’ All that was on his mind was leaving— he didn’t even imagine how long he’d leave for, and what he’d need to function out on his own.

Sirius internally cursed himself as he neared the small building, which he could then identify as a gas station. It was rather run down— all of the led lights adorned to the signs were flickering against the sun, struggling to fight against the harsh heat and dust surrounding in the air. All of that was irrelevant, though. Surely, the gas station still had food and water— it wasn’t like it was abandoned or anything. Just a bit shitty.

Sirius suddenly noticed the faint light coming from the other side of the dust coated windows, letting out a breath of relief at the realization the place was still open.

Okay, sure— Sirius didn’t have money. It was okay. He’d figure something out. He just had to. At that point, he’d rather drop dead, starving and dehydrated, than return back to that house. He knew he’d have to go back eventually, but not right then. He needed more time. He’d make more time.

He ran over potential solutions in his mind as the dirt transitioned into small grains of sand— dusty pebbles kicking up into the air with every step, leaving a yellowing haze surrounding the entire perimeter of the store. Sirius thought it was likely that a car had just recently stopped there, considering the shear amount of dust in the air. He resisted the urge to cough— it was nearly suffocating.

He covered his mouth with his hand as he thought, stopping for a moment beside one of the gas dispensers to allow more time to plan. Really, Sirius only had two realistic options in this situation: steal, or seduce.

…

Okay, those both sound really stupid, but let him elaborate. Sirius really didn’t want to steal. Sure, he was trying lots of new things that day, but he didn’t exactly want to add felonies to that list. The plan he favored was actually the latter of the two, which was just as— if not even more— stupid.

Sirius knew what he looked like. That might sound cocky, but he really wasn’t trying to be. He was just aware of his strengths, and his looks certainly were one of them. In fact, his supposed beauty was one of the main things his parents capitalized on when parading Sirius around as the future heir of the Black family business. He was pretty much known as the handsome Black brother— the charming, charismatic heir, with brains as flourishing as his beauty.

…

Yeah— a bit much, Sirius knew, but that was just how things were.

His brother, Regulus Black, didn’t get nearly the same treatment. It wasn’t like Regulus was ugly or anything, he just… wasn’t Sirius. They looked nearly identical, most people would often jump to say, but there were a few key differences. The main being their smiles, noses, and eye colors.

Sirius was essentially brighter in all of the ways Regulus was dim— striking gray eyes to Regulus’s muted blue; perfect teeth to crooked, kinked ones; straight, aristocratic nose to hooked, and slightly bulbous.

Thankfully, Regulus never seemed to give much mind to his lesser appearance. He was more reserved— keen to stay on the sidelines, rather than get into the game. Sirius, of course, would rather be on the bench as well, but he didn’t have a choice the way Regulus did. Sirius had his life all layed out before him before he was even born. Since before he’d been conceived, Sirius had a set goal— a purpose in life. Regulus didn’t. Regulus was just the spare— a back up plan in case Sirius couldn’t live up to expectations. Sirius would never let that happen. He wouldn’t allow Regulus to live that like— he wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Speaking of Regulus, Sirius winced, remembering yet another reason he’d eventually have to return back home.

He’d never leave Regulus alone in that house. Never.

Anyways, that wasn’t the point. Sirius needed the cashier to be a woman— ideally, an older woman, with a barren, lackluster love life. A widow, perhaps. Sirius could work with a younger woman, sure— but he just found from experience that his charm seemed to be stronger the older they were. Maybe that was the only benefit to attending so many balls. His plan was to shamelessly flirt with the cashier, and hopefully manage to con a free snack or two, maybe even a bottle of water, if he was lucky. Maybe he could really play into the whole, “runaway” idea— make her think he was some poor, lost boy— separated from him parents, with not a penny left in his pockets.

Yeah— that’d be perfect.

Sirius tried peering through the lit up windows, but it was useless— the glare from the sun was too strong, and the only thing he could see was his own reflection, straining its neck from beside the dispenser.

Realizing how stupid he looked, Sirius stumbled away, finally moving towards the shop, attempting to fix his hair in the reflective surface of the glass doors as he walked. It hardly worked, but it’d have to do.

Sirius grabbed onto the wooden handles of the door and pulled them open, entering to the sound of a chiming bell above him, and the loud whirring of the air conditioning cranked at full blast. As soon as Sirius was hit with a gust of the cold air, he sighed into himself with relief, lifting the hair off of the back of his neck to fully allow himself to cool. Jesus, it was hot out there. He hadn’t even realized.

As he inhaled, Sirius was suddenly met with the stinging smell of smoke, noticing the foggy haze which covered the small room. Sirius turned his head back and forth, taking in his surroundings.

The cash register was directly in front of the doors, but it was empty; the register left wide open, and a rolling chair beside it turnt askew— still softly rotating in the breeze. Sirius narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly to see where the cashier had gone, but they were no where in sight. Sirius shrugged, stepping closer to observe the counter. The bottom half was made entirely out of glass, allowing the costumers to view the small display of cigarettes and lottery tickets. There were considerable gaps within the display, showing a distinct lack of necessary supply. The place definitely didn’t have enough funding— or maybe this city was just full of smokers and gamblers. Most likely, it was the former.

Sirius looked to his left, taking in the sight of the drink fridges on the wall, all sparsely filled with drinks Sirius didn’t recognize the names of. Either they were too cheap to account for his mother’s expensive tastes, or the drinks were just fucking old. Most likely, it was the latter. Sirius stepped towards the metals racks filled with chips and other various snacks, his shoes making a distinct clacking noise against the cracked tile. He ran his hands over the bags of chips, smiling softly at the low, crinkling noise the action caused. He wasn’t exactly sure why such a mundane thing managed to bring him such joy. It was most likely due to the fact Sirius had never been grocery shopping before, and even if he had, his mother would never allow him to mindlessly touch the products. In a strange way, just running his hands over random items was an act of defiance— something which he’d never be allowed, had he been in the presence of his parents.

After admiring the chips for a considerable amount of time, Sirius noticed a cooler at the other end of the store, paper signs taped sloppily over its surface. Sirius made his way over to the right side, which was slightly larger than the left. There were a few more racks, all holding different products which Sirius decided he’d observe later. First, he wanted to look at the cooler.

He ran his hands over the box cooler’s bumpy surface, the papers rumpling from beneath his palms. Most were taped only along the edges, leaving the middle faded and worn, obviously water stained. Sirius read a few of the signs, most of which contained advertisements for various types of ice cream brands, along with strange little mascots which smiled beside them. He embarrassingly struggled for a moment to figure out how to open the cooler, thanking god that the cashier was mysteriously absent. In all honesty, if they didn’t come back any time soon, Sirius might just ransack the place. The idea was oddly compelling— he’d really much rather do that than interact with anyone at the moment. Pushing that thought aside, Sirius focused on the gust of freezing air blowing into his face, squinting slightly at the shear power of the little box. Jesus, this thing was strong. The smell, unfortunately, was just as strong as the air— a stale, mildewy scent assaulting Sirius’s nose as he rifled through his options. He pulled out a few freezer burned popsicles, all wrapped in plastic wrapping, with the same mascots still decorated on the sides.

Deciding against them, Sirius threw the chocolate ice cream bar he’d been holding back where it belonged, shutting the cooler once again with a soft thump.

His curiosity still not subdued, Sirius continued looking, attempting to touch as many things as he physically could. He drew stars in the condensation on the fridge doors, punched bags of chips, shook bottles of pills, and nearly knocked over an entire row of chapstick as he tried grabbing a squeaky dog toy. It was all stupid, sure, but it felt so fucking good. For the first time in his life, Sirius was doing things just because he wanted to. Doing things just for the fun of it— not for some long term, future investment.

It felt incredible.

Sirius was just about ready to leave the store, deciding in his head which items he’d like to try the most, when he turned the corner into the last rack of items, yelping loudly and jumping back into a fridge as he stared down the aisle, catching a glimpse of a another person. That’s right— a whole fucking human being. How’d Sirius not see them? Why hadn’t they acknowledged Sirius this entire fucking time?!

Sirius had his hand to his heart and his back to the cold door of the fridge, taking deep breaths as he tried to slow his rapid heart beat. Sirius’s eyes fluttered over the boy with labored breaths, his brain whirring on high alert. The boy appeared to be sleeping— leaned up against a cardboard display of stuffed animals, obscured from view at any other point of the store. He appeared to be about Sirius’s age, although judging by the length of his stretched out legs, he was probably a bit taller. Sirius peered at the boy’s sandy hair and dark skin, a splatter of dark freckles standing out harshly against his cheeks and nose. The boy clearly spent a lot of time in the sun, if the golden tan and bright, sun bleached highlights in his hair were anything to go by. He wore a worn, long sleeved shirt (despite it being the middle of the fucking summer), thin enough you could slightly see the color of his skin peeking out from beneath the fabric. On his ears were a pair of little headphones, attached by a cord, to a small, black box, which lied forgotten on his lap. Beside the boy was a stubbed out cigarette, as well as a lighter, which he held in his limp hand just a few inches over. Sirius felt his breath catch as he stared, his heart beat seeming to speed up even further; the air conditioning in the store obviously not doing its job. Sirius’s cheeks flushed inexplicably, making him press his palm against the face of the fridge before bringing it to his cheek, attempting to cool himself down.

Sirius extracted his sweating back from the fridge with a snap, slowly beginning to approach the boy, as if he were some type of rapid animal. The boy made no signs of wake, his breathing slow and even, and his eyes peacefully shut. Now that Sirius was closer, he was able to see the striking darkness of his thick eyebrows and eyelashes, and the odd, slicing scar, which ran all the way over the top of the boy’s nose, up into his eyebrow, leaving him with a small, bare slit.

After a few more seconds of staring, Sirius seemed to enter a short moment of insanity, deciding to harshly kick the boy with the toe of his shoe, clearly not thinking of the consequences. Shockingly, the boy barely even stirred. He just sank back farther into the display, pushing the cardboard rather than his own body. Sirius huffed, rolling his eyes in unnecessary annoyance. Why was he even doing this? Why was he annoyed the boy wouldn’t wake up? Sirius should’ve just stolen all of the merchandise while the idiot was asleep! Still, as previously mentioned, Sirius brain must’ve been fucking broken, because he kept kicking the boy until he released a small groan, stretching his long arms out to his sides with a loud sigh. When he was done stretching, the boy rubbed his eyes, running a hand through his curly hair, and knocking the headset straight off of his head.

“Fuck.” He cursed softly, squinting his eyes open to retrieve the item. Unfortunately, before he managed to find it, the boy’s gaze landed on Sirius, his eyes widening as he jumped nearly a foot off of the floor. A quiet gasp left his mouth.

“Jesus fuck!” He exclaimed, narrowing his eyes at Sirius as he peered up at him, putting a hand above his eyes to better focus against the light.

“Umm, I— I need help.” Sirius stuttered without thinking. He silently scolded himself for being such an idiot. What the fuck was he doing?!

The boy’s eyes widened once again, this time with mild embarrassment, his cheeks taking on a faint, cherry shade. He chewed his bottom lip between his teeth, shaking his head to collect himself.

“Oh— I— oh course. Yeah. I am so sorry.” He apologized quickly, swiveling his head back and forth as he assessed his surroundings, swiping the old cigarette under a rack, and pocketing the lighter in his jeans.

“Fuck, I’m totally getting fired,” The boy mumbled, mostly to himself, before meeting Sirius’s gaze— chocolate, brown eyes meeting silver. “Sorry, but could you help me up?”

The boy extended a hand up into the air expectantly, leaving Sirius to blink down at him in shock, gaping for a few moments before grasping his hand— hauling the massive boy back onto his feet with a grunt. Now that they were both standing, Sirius could see that the boy stood at least a good five inches above Sirius, probably around six foot three or so. Sirius stared at his hand still grasped in his own, observing the scars which zigzagged over his skin, much like the ones on his face. They appeared to have been received at similar, if not the same, time. Eventually, the boy snatched his hand away, using it to dust himself off as he looked down at Sirius with an awkward expression, his lips pressed together tightly.

“I am so sorry, man— I shouldn’t have been sleeping on the job.” He tucked his hands into his front pockets, raising his shoulders defensively. He dropped his head a bit, almost as if in shame. “Please don’t tell my boss.”

Sirius gaped for a few more seconds, unsure of what to say. Next thing he knew, Sirius burst out into sudden laughter, the sound booming throughout the small space. Sirius tried to stop himself, but he couldn’t. It just all felt so real. The entire situation was so unbelievably normal, Sirius couldn’t help but laugh. Well, maybe it hadn’t been normal, but Sirius wasn’t the best person to gauge such a thing.

Sirius had never had anything less than the best help in the country— the best of the best, at his beck and call 24/7— and here this kid was, sleeping on the fucking floor, and making Sirius help him get up after taking an unauthorized nap! It was ridiculous!

The boy watched him in stunned silence, his thick brows creased in the center, and his mouth hanging slightly open, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words.

“Uh— are you okay?” He asked cautiously, his eyes quickly scanning Sirius.

Sirius just laughed even harder, this time hunching down to put both hands on his knees— a motion which would’ve gotten him severely punished in his own household. Blacks weren’t meant to laugh, especially not like this. Blacks shouldn’t show any emotion, really. A Black should always mind their manners— hold themself presentably in the presence of others.

If only they could see him now.

The boy moved to awkwardly pat Sirius on the back, waiting until he controlled himself, allowing Sirius to stand back up straight and wipe the tears from his eyes. Sirius took a relieved sigh, unable to remove the smile from his face.

“Sorry about that,” He apologized, smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt and fixing his hair, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The boys eyebrows raised a fraction, the crease still prominent between them. “Don’t worry, you’re good, man,” He raised his hands, as if in surrender, obviously still in shock. “Did you still need help with something?”

“Oh, uhh,” Sirius looked back and forth, trying to come up with a quick excuse. When nothing came to him, Sirius tried to think back to when he first arrived, remembering the most memorable products.

Unfortunately, Sirius once again didn’t think before speaking.

“I just, uhh— wanted to buy a pack of cigarettes.”

…

Shit! That was fucking terrible! A pack of cigarettes? What the hell was wrong with him?!

Sirius had never smoked. Ever. In his life. Among other things, Walburga always thought smoking to be bellow her— a filthy habit only practiced by the lowest scum of the world. Sirius obviously didn’t feel the same, but still— the prospect of smoking slightly scared him. He’s heard the risks, and he’d rather prefer his lungs not turn black and rot out of his chest, thank you very much. He’s already got enough black in his life.

The boy narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly to the right, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. Sirius watched the motion curiously, unable to tear his eyes away.

“So, uhh, I know I’m not exactly one to talk,” He gestured vaguely towards where the crumpled cigarette once lied, now just a scrape of black ash against the tiles, “But I can’t sell to you unless you got an ID. Sorry.”

The sorry was added almost as an afterthought. The boy grimaced awkwardly, trying to avoid Sirius’s eyes.

Sirius pursed his lips. “Oh. Well that’s embarrassing.”

Sirius hadn’t even known why he’d said that. What was he even saying was embarrassing?! The fact he couldn’t buy them, or the fact he’d asked?! God, he sounded dumb. Too bad all of those tutors didn’t cover ‘how to act like a normal human being.’ That’d be helpful right about now.

The boy snorted, bringing a hand to cover his mouth before bringing it back down, placing it right back in his pocket. Sirius noticed a small smile pulling up the ends of his mouth; a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The boy looked around at the ceilings of the store, causing Sirius to blindly follow his line of sight, extremely confused as to what he was looking for.

In most of the corners were small, boxed cameras, all pointed inwards towards the racks. Sirius raised a brow at the small contraptions, wondering vaguely whether someone was watching them.

The boy, apparently satisfied with what he found, leaned in, lowering his voice a couple of notches.

“How bad do you want ‘em?”

Sirius furrowed his brows, unsure what the correct answer was. He really didn’t want a pack of cigarettes, in all honesty— it had been a panic induced answer— but the way the boy was angled towards him, the smell of his cologne throwing off Sirius’s train of thought, he found himself unable to voice his true opinions.

“Umm— really bad?”

The boy nodded in affirmation with a smirk, looking over the racks to the front door before jerking his head towards the counter. He motioned for Sirius to follow, and the two boys weaved their way back through the metal racks. The taller boy gasped as he noticed the open register at the front, quickly snapping it shut with a loud click. He shook his head, shutting his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair.

“There’s no way we didn’t get stolen from.” He sighed, his eyes flicking between the door and the register, “Jesus— I’m so fucked.”

This time, it was Sirius snorting, smirking at the boy as he fiddled with the lock of the glass display.

If only he knew.

“How often do you sleep mid shift?”

The boy looked up to meet Sirius’s eyes with a grimace, shaking his head lightly. “Wayyy too often. I’m, like, one complaint away from being jobless.”

“Hey,” Sirius shrugged, hoping he looked cooler than he felt, “If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t planning on complaining.”

The boy smiled before throwing his head back and groaning, making Sirius raise an amused a brow.

“Thank fuck.” He clapped Sirius’s shoulder, beginning to move away from the register towards an old, fading, white door with a small, circular window in the center. “I knew you were cool.”

Sirius didn’t have time to stutter out a response before the boy was turning away, throwing the door open with his shoulder, and stepping into a dim, white room. It was filled to the brim with metal shelves, spanning all the way from the ceiling to the floor. There were hardly any boxes on any of them, though, confirming Sirius’s theory about the place’s lack of supply. The only light in the entire room stemmed from a small lightbulb, controlled by a short, metal chain. The cashier boy yanked the chain down as he walked, drenching the room in awful, fluorescent lighting. Sirius couldn’t contain the disgusted groan which left his mouth, squinting against the faint buzz of the bulb. The boy looked back at him and nodded, a smile playing at his lips.

“You said it. I try to stay out of this room as much as possible. It’s a bit hard, considering a part of my job is restocking, but oh well.” He turned back around with a shrug, not bothering to stop and display the ugly back room to Sirius. Sirius would’ve made a quip about his clear inadequacy for restocking, but he held himself back. Sirius had half a mind to snoop around, but the lights were already giving him a headache. Exploration would have to wait.

Directly across from the door they entered through was a nearly identical door, though his one didn’t have a window like the last. The boy grabbed the door by the handle, hauling it open with a huff. Sirius quickly noticed that the door led back outside, being immediately blinded by the bright sunlight. Sirius brought his hands up to shield his eyes, wincing against the rays. The other boy was reacting in a similar fashion, though much less dramatically— simply placing hand above his eyes and squinting, waiting patiently as he held the door open for Sirius. The sound of cicadas and birds lulled most of Sirius’s thoughts, bringing him into somewhat of a trance. The boy latched the door shut, peering up at the trees with a relaxed expression. With the sunlight streaming over his face in bright streaks, his brown eyes illuminated into a gorgeous amber shade, Sirius found himself breathless— unable to look away.

The boy looked back down to the strip of pavement they were standing on, walking around an old, graffitied dumpster as he ducked down to grab something. Sirius scrutinized the shitty tags adorning the metal surface as he waited, cringing at the crude sentences and terribly done bubble letters covering nearly every inch of available space. His mother would have a fucking aneurysm. The boy returned from the other end of the dumpster with two lawn chairs, both in varying stages of decay. They seemed to have been bought at the same time, but years out in the harsh weather wore them down, stripping them of the majority of their paint. The boy plopped them down in a shaded spot of the little patio, one chair slightly farther submerged in the sun than the other. The boy graciously took refuge in the sunny chair, his knees popping painfully as he did so. Sirius tried not to wince, following to sit beside the boy in the shade. Sirius’s chair was slightly less broken than the other one, but only slightly. The only real difference was the fact that his arm rests were still intact. He couldn’t say the same for the other one.

Sirius could feel the built up dirt beneath where he sat, along with the layers of filth adoring the armrests. He tried his hardest not to cringe. Sirius could already imagine Walburga’s complaints— his pants were definitely ruined. Despite this, Sirius stayed seated— his perfect posture contrasting harshly beside the boy’s relaxed slouch.

Despite being in the shade, Sirius still found himself squinting— his grey eyes unused to the sun. The off white brick of the building they were facing only seemed to make this worse; the light reflecting off the surface going straight into Sirius’s eyes. Sirius really wasn’t built for the outdoors.

The boy reached into his pocket, retrieving a pack of cigarettes, and the cheap, plastic lighter Sirius had seen him holding earlier. The lighter was neon pink and transparent, allowing Sirius to view the inner workings of the small tool. Sirius had the urge to ask where he gotten it, but he refrained, afraid of sounding ignorant. The boy pulled out a cigarette and brought it to his mouth, holding it between his teeth as he reached over to offer one to Sirius. Sirius rushed to grab one, his usually gracefully fingers fumbling to pull out the small cylinder. When Sirius finally got one, he looked up to see the boy staring at him with a knowing look, a slight smile playing on his face. Sirius felt himself go hot— embarrassed at being caught in a lie.

The boy leaned back in his chair with a sigh; the disheveled plastic making terrifying snapping noises as he did so. He flicked the lighter in a practiced motion, his eyes glazing over, as if he was barely conscious of his actions. He brought the small flame up to the butt of his cigarette, holding it there as it lit. The orange light from the flame drew shadows over his face, illuminating him in an almost eerie way, contrasting strongly against the bright rays of sun. It was almost ethereal. Sirius jumped as the flame was held out towards his own face, successfully breaking him from his thoughts, and throwing him back into the terrible reality of his situation:

Sirius was about to smoke a cigarette. He couldn’t tell if he was excited, or fucking terrified. Probably a mix of the both.

Sirius waited as the end was lit, the boy leaning over the remains of his armrest as he focused, carful not to put the flame too close to Sirius’s face.

“So,” The boy finally spoke, bringing his lighter back to his lap and flicking it on and off, drawing Sirius’s attention like a moth. “What’s your name?”

Sirius was so focused on the flick of the flame, he barely processed the sentence. It was only after he watched the boy take a long drag, his cheeks hollowing, that Sirius snapped back to attention.

Kinda.

“Uh— huh?” Sirius asked idiotically, his eyes narrowed in confusion. God, he must’ve looked like an idiot.

The boy snickered, his head leaned back as he grinned up into the sky, his eyes only occasionally glancing over to Sirius’s.

“You got a name?” He repeated, the smile never leaving.

“Well, obviously,” Sirius huffed, moving the untouched cigarette out of his mouth to fiddle with it anxiously, “It’s Sirius. Sirius Black.”

The boy hummed, nodding slowly as he processed that information. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any recognition in the boys face at the name. Sirius waited for him to offer his name in return, but the offer never came. Sirius furrowed his brows.

“What about yours?” He finally asked, drawing the boy’s amber eyes over to scan his face.

“Remus.” He answered shortly, not even bothering with his last. Clearly he wasn’t one for formalities.

Sirius was glad to finally put a name to his face— just calling him “the boy” was getting annoying. Sirius repeated the name in his mind, the letter arranging themselves as he thought.

Remus.

It was such an odd name. Well, Sirius couldn’t talk, being named after a star and all, but still. Sirius hummed in a slight mimic of Remus’s, trying to will himself to say something. Anything. Unfortunately the words never came.

“Are you named after the star?” Remus asked after a few moments of silence, smoke settling over the patio in a thick cloud. Sirius nodded mindlessly at the question, it being one of the first things people often asked him during introductions. Well, considering they knew enough about astronomy to know the name of his star, which wasn’t all that often.

“Yeah,” Sirius replied eventually, watching as the ash from the butt of the cigarette flaked off, falling to the floor as he bobbed it between his fingers, “My entire family has space themed names.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus looked up curiously, flicking off a piece of ash of his own.

“Yep.” Sirius looked up to meet Remus’s gaze with a nod, “Mines Sirius— obviously. My brother’s Regulus, Dad’s Orion… uhhh— I have a cousin named Andromeda.” Sirius looked up to the trees above them, somehow blanking at the names of his own fucking family. Wow, he was a mess.

Sirius shrugged, giving up as he brought his gaze back to Remus. “There’s probably more, I just can’t think of them all right now.”

“Cool.” Remus nodded, “My parents must’ve been mythology freaks or something. They cursed me with some dumbass name. Most people don’t just casually know the mythical founder of Rome or whatever, so I’ve always gotta explain it. It gets annoying as shit.”

“Oh yeah, the story about the brothers!” Sirius sat up a bit in his chair as he recognized the name, the memory of an old history lesson coming back to him like a movie. “Isn’t that the one where one brother killed the other, and named all of Rome after himself?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Remus rolled his eyes, scoffing at the story, “They could’ve at least named me after the one who lived— not the dude who got scammed and killed by his own fucking brother.”

Remus shook his head as he spoke, as if the topic genuinely bothered him. Based on his reaction, Sirius was thinking it might’ve.

“I personally think Remus is a better name.” Sirius said the words before his brain processed them, leaving him sounding like an absolute idiot. Remus snorted, but Sirius could tell it was playful.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sirius mumbled honestly, having to force his eyes away from Remus’s and stare at the dirty pavement, just to calm himself down.

Why was Sirius so flustered? It was like he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence around this boy. All of his words were turning into mush in his mouth— his brain working faster than he could speak. It was as infuriating as it was embarrassing. Remus probably thought he was an absolute nut case.

The two boys sat in silence for a while— the birds and the sizzle of their flames taking place of conversation. Sirius kept his eyes on the cigarette, watching curiously as it burnt away, nearly coming close enough to burn his fingers. It was only after Sirius flicked the remains of his unused cigarette onto the floor that Remus spoke, starting his sentence with a soft snort.

“Do you wanna know something?” He asked, flicking his own cigarette towards Sirius’s, and landing it only a few inches away. Sirius hummed, nodding his head as he looked towards the other boy. Remus pulled the pack of cigarettes out again, this time not offering one to Sirius.

“Here, watch this.” He motioned as he lit the end with his lighter. Sirius did as he was told, watching diligently as Remus took a large inhale, the flame seeming to burn even brighter as he did so. A few moments later, he moved the cylinder away from his lips, blowing a mouthful of smoke into the air with a sigh. Sirius was entranced, soaking in every detail with narrowed eyes. When Remus was done, he looked back over to Sirius, raising a single brow.

“Did you get all that?”

Sirius nodded, leaning a fraction closer to Remus as the boy spoke. Remus hummed, nodding slowly.

“If you actually want to smoke, that’s what you gotta do. Not much is gonna happen if you just let in sit between your fingers ‘til it burns.”

Sirius felt his face flush at the quip, tucking a strand of his curls behind his ear anxiously. Remus just snorted, looking back towards the wall of the building.

“It’s okay if you don’t want one,” He said, honesty clear in his voice, “You don’t gotta feel pressured or anything. We can just sit out here and talk. I’ll take any excuse to neglect my responsibilities.”

Sirius snorted despite himself, hiding a smile between his pressed lips.

“Employee of the year, I assume?”

“Oh, for sureee.” Remus drawled sarcastically, smirking as he spoke, “Believe me, my manager loves me.”

“Naturally. I’m sure that’s why you were begging me earlier not to tell him about your little power nap.”

“I wasn’t begging,” Remus playfully rolled his eyes, “I was kindly asking. Very kindly.”

“Oh, so kind.” Sirius smirked, “Even cursed a few times, just to enhance the kindness.”

Remus gasped in mock offense, moving the hand without the cigarette to his heart. “It was a very curse worthy moment! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Careful there—“ Sirius held up a finger, waving it in Remus’s direction, “It’d be a shame if I was forced to report this language to your boss.”

“You wound me! Even after I shared a smoke with you?!”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Sirius tried to keep his expression blank as he let out a wistful sigh, but unfortunately, he couldn’t contain his smile.

Remus just rolled his eyes, the grin on his face mirroring Sirius’s. Suddenly, Sirius heard a faint chittering— his head snapping towards the source of the sound, their conversation long forgotten. Remus looked over as well, though with much less urgency. Sirius watched as Remus narrowed his eyes towards the dumpster, eventually shrugging as he turned back to Sirius.

“It’s probably just Penny.” Remus shrugged again, taking another inhale of his cigarette. Sirius raised a brow, his head turning back to the large metal box.

“Penny?” He asked, uncertainty dripping from his voice. Remus snorted, giving Sirius a short nod.

“Yep, Penny.” Remus replied, his tone one of absolute nonchalance, “She’s my pet raccoon.”

Sirius whipped his head to gape at Remus, his eyes widened in shock.

“You have a pet raccoon?!”

“Of course,” The boy shrugged, a small tilt at the corners of his mouth, “Doesn’t everybody?”

The chittering grew louder as Sirius’s jaw dropped, unable to believe Remus’s words. Did normal people have raccoons as pets?! Was this normal?!

“No! Not everybody!” Sirius exclaimed, his panic rising as he heard trash being thrashed around from inside the bin. He slouched himself back further into the dirty chair, his feet scuffing against the concrete as he scooted himself backwards. Sirius’s chair hit the chain link fence surrounding them with a loud rattle, making him jump despite himself.

“Ohh, shit— I almost forgot,” Remus pretended to cringe, scratching the back of his head, “Penny really likes boys with black hair.”

Sirius gaped.

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Yep. Black hair just, like, draws her in.” Remus continued, getting up from his seat as he flicked his finished cigarette towards the dumpster, “She scratches anything with black hair. Don’t you know anything about raccoons?”

“You’re so full of shit!” Sirius yelled, tediously rocking as he stood up on his chair— the legs quietly snapping beneath him. Sirius protested loudly as Remus approached the lid of the dumpster, shaking his head as violently as physically possible. This just seemed to egg Remus on, making the boy drag the experience out as long as possible. Remus smirked as he slowly placed his hands on the dingy lid, his mouth moving to a mocking ‘o’ as his fingers curled around the indented hand hold.

“I swear to god, I will literally kill you—“

“One…”

“You’re a liar! You’re full of shit! There’s probably not even a raccoon in there—!“

“Two…” Remus’s smirk widened, his eyes relit with that familiar glint Sirius’d seen earlier.

“Okay, wait wait wait,” Sirius held his hands out, frantically yelling. He heard the birds fleeing from the tree branches at the disturbance— the sound of the rustling leaves only increasing Sirius’s panic. “Please! No—!”

“One!” Remus yelled, simultaneously yanking the lid of the dumpster up, and letting a small, brown raccoon scurry out of the dumpster; a piece of an old, broken, toy car held in its clutches. Of course, immediately after setting down the toy, the beast decided to go straight towards Sirius, causing the boy in question to turn towards the fence, desperately trying to climb it as he yelped. Remus was laughing his ass off at the display, watching as Sirius managed to fight his way all the way over the chain links, landing not so gracefully in the patch of grass on the other side. Sirius winced as he tried collecting himself, his heartbeat still racing. He was basically covered in dirt and grass stains by this point. Remus’s laughter died down as he waltzed towards Sirius’s abandoned chair— the evil raccoon having perched itself directly in his spot. Remus smiled softly at the animal, but never pet it— instead choosing to walk towards Sirius, chuckling as he put his hands to the fence to stare. He watched him as if Sirius was an animal at a zoo. It was humiliating.

Sirius couldn’t help but glare, brushing himself off as he stood, his arms defiantly crossing over his chest. Remus rolled his eyes playfully, observing for only a moment more before climbing over the fence to join him. Remus landed perfectly on his feet, causing Sirius’s scowl to deepen.

“You’re evil.” Sirius grumbled, looking around him at the trunks of trees which surrounded them— all sunlight blocked by the leaves.

“I’m guessing you don’t have a raccoon back at home?”

“Don’t make me punch you.”

Remus snorted, walking towards the nearest tree with his hands in his pockets, and plopping down on the grass with a sigh. Remus stretched his legs out in front of him, reclining into the trunk as he closed his eyes.

“You’re a very sedentary guy.” Sirius thought out loud, hovering above Remus’s stretched body.

Remus hummed with a smile, not bothering to give Sirius a real response. Sirius huffed at the dismissal, carefully squatting down to sit cross legged beside Remus.

“What can I say,” Remus finally answered, “Standing’s for people who are too scared to sit.”

Sirius snorted. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You say that, but I bet you’re the type of guy who’s always standing.”

“Well, I—“

“Even when you heard that raccoon, you immediately stood up—“

“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed, “I was scared! It was a defense mechanism!”

Remus snorted. “Pretty shitty defense.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, dragging his finger through the dirt as he mindlessly mapped constellations. Remus seemed to have gone back to napping, his breathing already evening out. Sirius looked over to the forgotten building, narrowing his eyes at the metal door.

“Do you really just not care about your job?” Sirius mused, making Remus snicker.

“Nope.” Remus replied simply, popping the p. Sirius curiously raised a brow.

“Then why bother working there?”

Remus shrugged. “I barely work. It’s like free money. Hardly anyone ever shows up, so I just sit around all day. I rarely even have to restock— I just leave it to the closers.”

“I’m sure they love that.” Sirius scoffed. Remus just shrugged, his eyes still peacefully closed.

“Not my problem.”

For a while, they returned to comfortable silence— Remus dozing off, and Sirius soaking in the serenity of his surroundings. Somehow, even after just an hour with Remus, Sirius felt more comfortable than he’d ever been in his own home. As he sat there, dirt compiling under his nails, and a breeze twirling through his hair, Sirius realized he was genuinely calm. For the first time in his life, he found himself with absolutely no worries. Not even the thought of his future punishment upon returning home could bother him. Sirius looked up to where Remus still lounged, his breathing deep and steady— his chest moving up and down in a rhythmic pattern. Sirius felt hypnotized— so unbelievably drawn to the boy, that he couldn’t help but shuffle his way over to the tree, leaning himself beside Remus on a separate portion of the trunk. From his angle, Sirius could no longer see the boy, but he could still feel his presence nearby.

With the birds returning to their branches, and the shade of the trees keeping them cool, Sirius couldn’t help but feel himself drifting off— his eyes fluttering closed against his will. Just before he lost himself to sleep, Sirius could remember thinking one final thought:

Did people actually have pet raccoons?