Would You Rather

For once, Remus wasn’t with his friends.

Well actually, that was a lie— he was with Lily. He just wasn’t with his usual friends, and that was for a very specific reason:

Sirius’s Birthday.

Sirius’s birthday was on November 3rd, and Remus had no fucking clue what to get him. Like genuinely, what the hell did Sirius even like?

He liked clothes, but was rich enough to buy them whenever he wanted; he liked jewelry, but had so much of it he probably didn’t need anymore; he like hanging out with his friends, but that wasn’t really a gift.

So, what else did he like?

Food? Girls? Gamepidgeon? Being an annoying asshole?

Really, Remus was at a loss. That’s why he brought in backup.

Lily.

Lily was like a totally new mindset— a person with a brain that had not yet been contaminated by Remus’s idiotic friends.

She was perfect. Well, almost perfect.

What wasn’t perfect, was how easily distracted she was. Remus knew he should’ve never agreed to go to the fucking mall. Nothing ever gets done at the mall.

Remus hates the mall.

“Ohh, Remus,” Lily cooed, holding up a random mustard colored crewneck, “This would look so good on you— I would literally die to be as tan as you.”

Remus rolled his eyes and swatted at the crewneck. “Yeah, yeah, thanks— but can we please start looking for Sirius?”

Lily matched Remus’s eye roll. “We are looking for Sirius— what if we find a shirt he’d really like in here?”

Remus looked around, an unconvinced expression on his face.

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re so dramatic.” Lily mumbled under her breath, carefully folding the crewneck back up and placing it back where she’d found it. Remus was basically dragging her out of the store when she was done.

The second they were out, though, Lily was already pointing at other place.

“Oooh, Remus— look!” Remus followed Lily’s finger, his eyes unfortunately landing on a Claire’s. That’s right, a fucking Claire’s. Remus was loosing it.

“Lilyyy,” Remus whined, “We really need to be looking for Sirius!”

“This is for Sirius!” Lily defended herself, walking backwards towards the Claire’s, and forcing Remus to follow her. “He loves jewelry! Have you seen how many rings that kid wears.”

“Of course I have,” Remus rolled his eyes, “And that’s why I know he doesn’t need any more.”

“Trust me, Remus— you always need more.”

Unable to argue, Lily and Remus entered the Claire’s, very much against Remus’s will.

Remus looked lazily at the earrings, most of which had stupid little figures of pizza or cats on the ends. Unironically, Sirius would probably love them.

Remus sighed loudly to get Lily’s attention. Lily just rolled her eyes and shoved him lightly.

“Keep looking, babes. I’m not done.”

Remus knew it— this wasn’t for Sirius! That sneaky b— well, Remus didn’t really want to call her a bitch. Even if it was just in his head, Lily would probably kick his ass.

That sneaky woman.

Yeah, that’ll do.

Getting bored of the ugly choice of earrings, Remus looked over to the front of the shop, where a little girl was getting her ears pierced. Remus had always been irrationally scared of those piercing guns— they were just so sketchy. He doesn’t trust them.

The little girl wasn’t even crying; she stayed entirely calm, despite the fact a fucking death trap was clamping over her ears. Fucking badass— Remus could never.

Sirius could probably do it, though. Honestly, Sirius would love to have his ears pierced— he was weird like that.

In that moment, it was like Remus had a light bulb flicker over his head. A “Eureka” moment, if you will. How had he never thought of this?!

He could pierce Sirius’s ears!

Well, obviously not him— he’d get someone else to do it— but that was unimportant.

He’d have someone else pierce Sirius’s ears! It was genius!

Remus immediately ran back to Lily like an excited child. He may as well have been jumping up and down with joy.

“Lily, Lily!” Remus shook her to get her attention, and she shot him a glare. Remus ignored it. “We could pierce Sirius’s ears!”

Lily raised an unimpressed brow. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you pierce his ears.”

“No,” Remus rolled his eyes, “Not me— we pay for him to get his ears done by someone else!”

Lily looked up at him, scoffed, and then began nodding her head with a laugh.

“You know what— it’s perfect.”

•••

“Moons, move it a bit to the left.”

Remus moved the triangle to the left.

“Ehh, more right.”

He sighed, but went more towards the right.

James shoved Sirius out of the way, bending down to get at eye level with the table— as if that would fucking help.

“I think it needs to be farther back.”

“Farther back?!” Remus scoffed, throwing his hands up. “It’s apart of the rules— it has to go right here!”

“It’s my Pool table, Remus,” James walked over to steal Remus’s spot, scooting the triangle way too far to the right for absolutely no fucking reason. “I’m pretty sure I know the rules.”

“Well, clearly you don’t— there’s literally a fucking marker to show you where to place it.”

Sirius snickered. “When the hell did you become a Pool expert?”

The real answer was Gamepidgeon, but there was no way in hell he was gonna say that. Remus just rolled his eyes, moving out of the way to let James do whatever the fuck he pleased.

“Guysss,” Peter moaned, slamming his head down on the Pool table and nearly knocking all of the balls just as James was removing the triangle. They all shot him matching glares, and Peter raised his hands defensively. “The rules don’t matter— we’re literally playing in someone’s basement. This isn’t fucking Vegas— the Mafia isn’t gonna come after us if the triangle is a tiny bit too far to the left.”

“First of all, Wormy,” Sirius sidled up next to Peter, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Peter huffed at the added weight. “This isn’t just anyone’s basement— it’s mine and James’s, and we play by Mafia rules.”

“‘Mafia rules’?!” Remus threw his arms up exasperatedly, “When did we agree to that—?!”

“And second, you should always act like it’s Vegas, otherwise you’ll lose. Have you never played Poker before?”

“Uh, no?” Peter raised a brow. Sirius ignored him.

“Well, that doesn’t matter.” Sirius smacked Peter’s chest, making the poor boy hack out a cough. Remus finally intervened, grabbing Sirius and throwing him off of Peter.

“Can we just all shut up and play?”

They were split into teams, because unfortunately, Pool was only a two player game, and Remus’s friends had never been introduced to the idea of “taking turns.”

It was Remus and Sirius verses James and Peter.

Sirius and James originally had tried to be on a team, but Remus claimed it was unfair— you couldn’t put the only two assholes who owned a pool table on the same fucking team.

“You break it, Moons!” Sirius patted Remus on the back, and Remus scowled.

“Fuck no! You do it, ‘Pool Master.’”

“Fine,” Sirius smirked, “I’m glad you think so highly of my Pool skills!”

Thinking highly of Sirius’s Pool skills was a fucking mistake. You’d think the guy that lived with a Pool table in his basement would know how to hold the fucking stick, but apparently, that was too big of an assumption.

Remus should’ve just let him be with James.

“Moony, hold my leg!” Sirius shouted out commandingly, despite the fact Remus was literally standing right behind him.

Remus looked down at Sirius’s who was currently leaned all the down on top of the table, with one leg extended into the air like a fucking figure skater.

“Why the hell would I hold your leg?!”

Sirius smirked. “To give me a better angle!”

Very much against Remus’s better judgment, about five second later, he was holding Sirius’s leg. What the hell were they even doing? What was the fucking point of this?

Sirius still managed to miss their ball horrifically, despite the “better angle.” Shocker.

Really, the only reason they hadn’t lost already was because James and Peter happened to be just as bad. Thank fucking god.

Remus watched as James lined up his shot, one lensed eye squeezed shut to focus. He had a perfect shot— lined up for the ball to go straight into the hole—

Never mind, James still missed. Holy fucking shit.

Remus pushed James out of the way so he could actually see the board. There was literally no good moves Remus could see. Remus and Sirius were solids, and all of the solids just so happened to be right fucking behind the stripes. They’d literally been playing for like twenty minutes, and almost all of the balls were still there.

Remus just had to hope Peter or James just accidentally knocked the 8-ball in— it was their only hope.

Remus leaned over the table, attempting to line up a shot. Just as he was about to hit the ball, he felt a massive weight jump onto his back. Remus fell, knocking the white ball absolutely no where and shaking the entire fucking table. Remus turned his head up to see Sirius somehow sprawled out on Rmeus’s back, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Asshole, that was our turn!” Remus yelled, standing up abruptly, allowing Sirius to fall to the floor with a thud. Served him right.

“I— I was h— h— helping!” Sirius managed to defend himself through wheezes, still lying on the floor. Remus kicked at his side repeatedly, but that just made Sirius laugh harder.

“Guys, guys!” Peter interrupted, raising his hands to get his audience’s attention. Remus raised his head, and Sirius finally hopped up from the carpeted floor. “Watch this move!”

The move, as Peter called it, was 100% not going to work. That idiot was trying to jump it.

What the hell, in this entire shitty game, made Peter think he could make the ball jump over another?! What was wrong with this kid?!

“Hell yeah, Pete!” James cheered supportively, “Great idea!”

No it fucking wasn’t! It absolutely wasn’t a good idea!

Peter was trying to jump the white ball over the fucking 8-ball to hit one of his stripes in. Genuinely, Remus had never had less faith in a person in his entire life.

There were also so many other fucking plays he could make! This was the worst possible idea!

Remus had no idea why he was getting mad about Peter making a game ending move. He was just disappointed in his judgement.

Everyone seemed to hold their breaths as Peter adjusted the stick— not even Sirius was talking. It was dead silent. Peter pulled the stick back slowly, his tongue slightly sticking out from his mouth in focus.

3…

2…

1…

Anddd…

It didn’t work. The ball didn’t jump at all— the stripe, 8-ball, and the fucking white ball all went in. Sirius was genuinely jumping for joy.

“We did it, Moons!” Sirius yelled as he jumped onto Remus back once again, latching onto him like a crazed monkey. Remus tried to shake him off, but Sirius was holding on too tightly.

Remus did have to give some credit to Peter and James— they definitely weren’t sore losers. Both of the boys were bent over with laughter, rendered unable to breathe after Peter’s shitty ass play.

Despite how terrible they were, Remus couldn’t deny it— he had fun.

They definitely needed some more practice, though.

•••

Have you ever played Finger Football? No? Well, that’s because it’s fucking stupid.

Remus knows that he talks a lot about the things he hates, but that’s just because Sirius seems to have an obsession with doing anything and everything that annoys him.

Hence forth, why instead of doing their assigned reading, Sirius and Remus are playing Finger Football.

Not only is Remus really bad at it, but he’s almost hit the other person in their group like five times. To make matters even worse, the other group member just so happens to be none other than Severus fucking Snape. Snape looked like he was about to punch him, and Remus wasn’t really in the mood for a fight.

Another thing Remus hates is groups. Either let them sit alone, or just give them a partner— anything more than that is ridiculous and unnecessary. Maybe Remus only feels that way because he hates meeting new people. Who knows.

Remus held his fingers together to make a goalpost for Sirius to aim for. Sirius slouched down really low, trying to get the perfect trajectory or some shit.

With a graceful flick, Sirius managed to get it perfectly through Remus’s goal. Remus sighed as Sirius silently celebrated— rubbing his win in Remus’s face before adding another tally to their leader board. The leader board was written on the page they were supposed to fill out as an exit ticket. They were so fucked.

Now it was Remus’s turn. Remus could already feel Snape’s eyes singeing into his soul over the cover of his book, but he tried his best to ignore it. Remus slouched down in a pathetic recreation of Sirius’s previous play, trying to get himself at eye level with the tiny, folded piece of paper on his desk.

He was slouched so low, his legs were fully under Sirius’s chair across from him. Sirius snorted.

Pulling his finger back with far less grace and precision, Remus flicked the paper, sending it flying right into Snape’s fucking nose.

Why does the universe hate him?

Severus spluttered, slamming his book shut and standing up in his seat.

“COULD YOU FUCKING STOP?!”

You could’ve heard a goddamn pin drop.

Both Remus, Sirius, and the rest of the class cringed at Snape’s booming volume; leaning as far away from the fuming boy as possible in complete, stilled silence.

Mrs. Mcgonagall was obviously enraged, but for once, her fury wasn’t directed at them.

“Severus Snape!” Mcgonagall gasped, sounding almost offended. “We do NOT use that kind of language in this classroom— you should know better than this!”

“But— I—“ Snape tried to explain himself, seemingly unable to find the words. All he managed to do was point directly at Remus, who was trying his hardest to look inconspicuous. Mcgonagall ignored this.

“I’m going to have to give you detention for this behavior, Mr. Snape.” Mcgonagall tsked, reaching into a desk drawer to find the pink detention slips. “Just know, I am very disappointed in you.”

Snape had turned a vibrant shade of red, and was too embarrassed to even say a word. He just stood there, dropping his head and woefully accepting the slip from Mcgonagall. Many students were snickering at the scene, which was definitely just making things worse.

As soon as Snape sat down again, Sirius sent a shit eating look Remus’s way.

That fucking idiot was already folding another football.

•••

Remus was definitely not in shape. This was no shock— he hadn’t done anything remotely athletic since that run James had forced him on, and that was forever ago.

Remus probably would’ve just let himself stay out of shape and prayed for mercy during basketball tryouts, but James and Sirius wouldn’t allow it.

That’s how Remus ended up at Planet fucking Fitness at five in the morning— hoping the building would somehow burst into flames and kill them all.

With any luck, it’d get to Sirius first.

“Please, Moons,” Sirius whined, his hands clasped together in an attempt to beg. It wasn’t working. “I just want to see who’s the best— it’s no fun if I’m only competing with James! I already know I’m stronger than that idiot!”

James yelled in protest from some random machine nearby, but both Remus and Sirius ignored him.

Remus rolled his eyes. “Have you seen my fucking arms?” Remus raised one of his noodley arms as proof, “There’s no point! You’re just trying to get yourself an easy win and an ego boost!”

“What are you talking about, you idiot,” Sirius grabbed Remus raised arm and began swinging it around violently. “Your arms are massive!”

“Yeah, massive in length— not width.”

Sirius smirked. “Don’t worry, Moons, most people I’ve met actually prefer length—“

Remus pushed Sirius’s face out of the way, making the annoying boy splutter with laughter and allowing Remus some time to escape.

Despite Remus’s long stride, Sirius caught up to him immediately.

“C’monn,” Sirius grabbed Remus’s shoulders, attempting to pull him back. “Please just do it!”

“Hell no!” Remus didn’t even bother looking back at Sirius, he just continued walking, ignoring the way Sirius’s feet were dragging on the floor. “I don’t want to!”

“Please do it with me!”

“Shut up, Sirius!”

“I need you, Moons— don’t abandon me!”

“‘Abandon you’?! What—?!”

“I just wanted a kissss—“ Sirius was now pretending to cry, and Remus was getting more and more confused.

“Huh—?!”

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” James thankfully interrupted their conversation, dripping with sweat and apparently done with his final set. Sirius immediately let go of Remus at the sight of James, running around him to talk to the sweaty boy.

“I’m trying to convince Moony to do a bench competition!”

“Really?” James raised a brow, “That’s not what it sounded like—“

“He keeps saying he’ll lose, so there’s no point in trying!” Sirius interrupted James. “Tell that idiot he’s stronger than he thinks!”

“Well, uh,” James seemed to take a moment to collect himself, running a hand through his inexplicably drenched hair. “Yeah! Let’s do a bench competition!”

“No—!” Remus tried, but it was no use. Very unsurprisingly, Remus gave in.

Remus had done many benching competitions, but most of them had been with his team mates. Speaking from very much unwanted experience, they were fucking stupid.

It was basically a “who’s manliest” competition, and Remus had never won. They might as well have been drinking raw eggs out of a glass for breakfast, and chopping up some logs for the winter.

Remus couldn’t think of any more manly things, but the point was there. They were stupid.

And yes, Remus won’t lie— he’s a sore loser. Sue him— he likes to win! Whats the problem in that?!

That’s why he hates going into competitions he already knows he’ll lose. It was like just asking for disappointment.

“We’ll start with the bar—“ Sirius started, but Remus cut him off immediately.

“We’re not starting with the fucking bar— we’ll be here all day!” Remus grabbed the weights, putting fifties on both sides. “We’ll start with this.”

Sirius mocked him, but Remus ignored it, gesturing for one of them to start it off.

James went first, easily benching the one hundred forty-five pounds they currently had.

Sirius and Remus went after much in the same fashion, doing their reps with ease.

This time, Sirius was the one adding weight, and the fucking idiot grabbed two more fucking fifties. Remus’s eyes widened.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Remus exclaimed, and Sirius just raised a brow.

“I thought you wanted it to go faster,” Sirius was smirking as he put the weights on each side of the bar, “I was just trying to help.”

Remus was resisting the urge to wine like a little baby. Welp, he was already out. Nice try team, we did our best—

“Hang on, Pads.” James rolled his eyes, removing the weights Sirius had just placed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Sirius pouted, but Remus couldn’t even make fun of him for it— he was probably doing the same.

“We’ll go up by fives from here.” James announced, making Sirius and Remus both immediately protest.

“Fives?!”

“That’s so boringgg—!”

“No complaints,” James silenced them, getting back down onto the bench to do his turn. “You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit.”

Sirius mocked James’s words in a high pitched whisper, and this time, Remus snorted at his antics.

“Why’s he acting like he was the one who had this idea— this was my game!” Sirius complained in a whisper, very obviously gesturing towards James, who was easily benching one hundred fifty-five pounds.

“Serves you fucking right.” Remus mumbled under his breath, ignoring the way Sirius swung at his shoulder.

The benching competition was taking forever. Like genuinely, forever. They were somehow up to two hundred and five pounds, and Remus had genuinely no clue how he’d gotten that far. They’d been doing this for so long, they had to start replacing all of their fives for bigger weights to make everything fit on the bar.

By this point, Remus was pretty sure he was only still going out of pure spite.

“Alright,” Sirius got up from his turn, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “We need to add some kind of punishment into this— I need an incentive.”

Remus shook his head violently at the same time James agreed with excitement.

“Hell yeah!” James exclaimed, his brown eyes going wide. “Should we make it food for the rest of the group?”

“Nah,” Sirius waved a dismissive hand. “That’s lame. We gotta think of something better.”

“Guys,” Remus groaned, “Please—“

“Loser has to punch Snape?”

“Uh, no.” Sirius snickered with amusement, “Take it down a notch, buddy.”

“Loser has to confess their undying love to. Lily Evans?”

“Ew, no,” Sirius grimaced, “Stop picking things you already want to do! It has to be a punishment— not an average Wednesday night—“

“Loser confesses their undying love to Mr. Binns?”

Remus immediately shook his head. “Nope, no, we’re not doing that—“

“Yes!” Sirius grinned wildly, an evil glint in his eyes. “It’s perfect— Binns probably wouldn’t even notice we were talking to him!

Mr. Binns was their Econ teacher, and sometimes, Remus wondered if that guy actually knew he was real.

Econ was the only class Remus and his friends had all together, and every day, they were unbelievably fucking loud. Like, so loud, other kids would come over and tell them to shut the fuck up.

But despite that, Binns never seemed to notice them. He never noticed anything, really.

They were all failing that class, obviously, but that was unimportant.

What was important, however, was the fact that Remus’s arms were getting sore, and he was absolutely NOT going to be the loser of this competition.

Remus couldn’t lose.

Never mind, Remus was about to lose. Well, probably. At this point, he’s made it so much farther than he thought he could, he doesn’t even know his limit— but two hundred seventy five pounds was definitely pushing it.

If this was any other benching competition, Remus would’ve just purposely lost and taken the shame, but not this time.

One thing about James and Sirius was that they took bets, dares, and competitions very seriously. No pun intended. If you had to do something— they’d make sure you did it— and there was no getting out of it. It was terrible.

And the worst part: it was Remus’s turn. His last, most likely.

Sirius was already snickering at him— so much for “friends supporting friends.”

Asshole.

Remus wrapped his hands around the bar— flashes of his potential future filling his mind. Binns’s ugly face, people laughing, Remus looking like a fucking idiot.

Eugh. It was awful.

Remus couldn’t lose. He absolutely couldn’t lose.

•••

“Moony, very serious question. No comment on the wording, please.”

James and Peter snickered as Remus looked over to scowl at Sirius, who was sprawled out on James’s bed, his homework somehow magically no where to be found.

They were trying to get some dumbass English assignment done, but Remus should’ve known it was hopeless. Not even he was focusing.

Sirius took Remus’s silence as an opportunity to continue.

“Would you rather—“

“Nope, not listening—“

“— be swarmed by a bunch of mind controlled ants, which had been commanded to attack you, slowly and painfully eating through your dick until you had nothing left,”

Remus’s jaw had dropped. “Who would do that to me?!

“Unimportant.” Sirius waved him off, “Would you rather do that, OR, relive todays Econ class—“

“Alright,” Remus threw his homework to the side. It wasn’t like he was gonna do it, anyway. “You’re done.”

Remus didn’t even give Sirius a second before he was lunging at his idiotic friend, tackling him off of the bed and putting him in a headlock.

Sirius was laughing his ass off as Remus choked him out.

“We’re never talking about that again.”