You can hardly hear Remus when you pick up the phone. You check the clock on the wall. It's time for him to be at the pub with James and Sirius, so you're not sure why he's calling.
"Hello?" you say.
"Oh, thank fuck," Remus cries. If he's cursing, you know something is up.
"What's wrong? Is Sirius there?" You expect that maybe he's gotten into trouble with another patron or that he's let his phone die and asked Remus to tell you.
"Is that her? Did you get her? Beg her, Remus. Tell her I'll buy her drinks for a week!" James is shouting in the background to be heard through the phone.
"I'm handling it," Remus calls back. You pull the speaker away from your ear as he does. What is going on? "Sorry," he says, much quieter now. He must have cupped his hand over the microphone. "Listen, can you come out to the pub? Our regular one?"
"But it's boy's night," you say. They invite you round more often than not, but it's important to you that they get to have their time as mates, too.
"I know," he sighs. "But--" There's a bit of a commotion and a lot of cursing and then James comes on the line.
"Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, can you come 'round? Your boyfriend is being miserable and it's going to get us kicked out. And this is my favorite spot!" Your stomach ties itself in a knot. Sirius? He hasn't texted you about anything concerning beyond reminding you that he'd be home later than usual.
"Is he okay?" James must hear your concern because he backpedals.
"Oh, yeah, he's fine, love, honest. We just ran into that tosser Lestrange on the way over and he's a bit sour. Family drama, and all that. Can you just come and get him to chill the fuck out, please?"
You're already reaching for your purse. It still makes you a little giddy that everyone knows you're the one who Sirius responds to the most. For some reason you can always bring him out of a mood, and you like doing it. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes or so."
"Is she coming?" Remus calls from the background. "Can I have my phone back now, please?" You end the call and shove your feet into your shoes and head out the door. You're not really in a pub-going outfit, but it'll have to do. You know that Sirius won't care much.
When you get to the bar you shoulder your way to the back where you know they'll be. Familiar faces call out your name and you wave to them, dispensing smiles and greetings with genuine happiness.
Your heart swells when you finally get to the back booth. Sirius is sat on one side, glaring at the beer in his hands. James and Remus are chatting to some other friends close by. As soon as you take a step towards your boyfriend, he looks up, like he sensed you coming. And his entire body transforms. He sits up straighter, his hands loosening their grip on the glass. He doesn't smile, not quite, but his jaw unclenches and his pupils dilate.
You beam at him. He quickly scoots out of the booth to greet you, hands outstretched as you reach for him in turn.
"My girl," he says, kissing your cheek before pulling you in for a hug. "What are you doing here?" Sirius rarely sounds delighted unless he's talking about how his club crushed their rival or how he managed to trick James into glueing his hand to his face, but this is pretty close.
You shrug in his hold. "Got bored at home." He pulls away and smoothes his thumb over one of your eyebrows.
"Hmm," he says. "Try again." You laugh, loudly and freely, and that does get him to smile. Only a little, but you count it as a victory. His smiles are like treasures and you keep them all in a lock-box in your chest.
"Remus called," you tell him honestly. He makes an annoyed noise, looking over his shoulder to glare at his friends. Both of them resolutely keep their gaze elsewhere.
Sirius leads you back to the booth and you settle in next to him, thigh pressed to his. He drapes an arm around you. Seeing that the danger has passed, James and Remus slide in on the other side.
"I told them not to bother you," Sirius says, frowning. But his hands betray him, one curling around your shoulder and the other resting warm and heavy on your kneecap.
"As if this is a bother," you scold. "Plus, James said he'd buy my drinks." You look at your t-shirt -- and old one of Sirius', and frown. "I wish I had thought to change, though."
"No," he says quickly. His fingers tuck under the collar to press into your bare skin. "No, I like this."
"It's fucking magic," Remus mutters from the other side of the booth. "Unbelievable."
James has his head in his hands. "It's like he didn't tell me to shove my head up my ass ten minutes ago." Sirius flips them off and leans in close, pressing his lips to your ear.
"It's obvious you're wearing my shirt," he says, voice gravely. You flight the urge to shiver. "Got me thinking all kinds of inappropriate things over here."
"Alright, you're going to get us kicked out for a different reason," James whines. You look at him and he winks. It's obvious that you're the keeper of Sirius's happiness and no one minds all that much, considering they love him. You all do. It's the easiest thing in the world.