The sun was rising outside the window of a little flat in Paris; orange and brown leaves were dancing and twirling in the breeze outside, and Remus Lupin had just woken up.
He was 18 and finally got to live with the love of his life in this little flat. Remus smiled, looking down at the pale boy with long black hair who was still asleep under the covers. Remus carefully slid out of the bed to go get some coffee.
The life he was living was nothing like he ever would have expected; it was peaceful and calm, filled with little trips to the shop and drinking coffee on window sills before Sirius. Remus never thought he could have been this happy.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and added a bit of creamer in their cluttered little kitchen filled with silly little knick-knacks Sirius insisted they get because, according to him, "A dark minimally decorated house is far more depressing," which Remus agreed with. So, their apartment was all painted light cream colors with wooden tables and counters and little silly things everywhere, cluttering the place with photos and drawings.
Remus made his way back to the bedroom, where he carefully opened the little window to sit on the emergency stair exit.
He sat there peacefully, taking in the life around him—the birds singing their wake-up song, the first shopkeepers opening their businesses, the smell of pastries wafting up from below. Remus looked across the street and saw Marlene in an oversized band shirt sitting at her window as well, doing the same thing as him. She and Dorcas had moved there slightly before Remus and Sirius.
Marlene put down her cup of tea (she was not the biggest fan of coffee) and waved at him; Remus did the same. After finishing his coffee, he took out a book, his book he kept out there for morning reading, and leaned his head against the metal railing.
Soon enough, the little window opened, and Sirius clamored out with his leather jacket. "Morning, Moons," he yawned, kissing Remus's hair. Remus put down his book and smiled at Sirius. "Good morning."
Sirius draped the leather jacket over Remus's shoulders. "It's too cold for you to be here without a jacket," Sirius explained, forgetting that Remus's lycanthropy made it quite rare that he was cold.
"Thanks, love," Remus thanked him with a gentle kiss, "but what about you?" Remus asked, already suspecting the answer. Sirius grinned like a child who just got a gold star in school. "I have one of your sweaters!" He laughed, pulling it out from behind his back.
It was quite oversized on him, but in an endearing way, just as everything Sirius wore was. Remus was convinced he could pull off anything.
Remus chuckled. "Would you like to go in or stay out here?" he asked. Sirius sleepily leaned on Remus's shoulder. "Right here is perfectly fine with me," he yawned, still tired.
Remus caught a glimpse of Marlene out of the corner of his eye; it looked as though she was mouthing the word 'faggots' at them. Remus just rolled his eyes and flipped her off.
But eventually, when the sun had fully risen, Remus and Sirius went inside to get started for the day. One of the many perks of being with Sirius is that he is rich, which meant Remus never had to work if he didn't want to. Not that he could anyway; most businesses would not allow werewolves to work for them, so Remus settled for working part-time in a small independently owned bookstore down the street near Sirius's café.
"How does breakfast sound?" Sirius asked as he changed into his favorite Queen shirt and black flare jeans. "At home or going out?" Remus asked.
"Far too lazy to cook today, let's go out," Sirius decided. "Sounds perfect. The normal café, you think?" Sirius smiled. "You know me so well," he swooned.
After Remus had put on his Doc Martens and Sirius had done his eyeliner, they walked down the many flights of stairs to the streets of Paris. Remus loved mornings; he decided it was the best time of the day; it was when the world felt most magical.
They walked hand in hand down the street, admiring the simple beauties of the life they lived until they reached the normal café they loved so much. It was filled with little plants and old vintage decorations; the owner/barista, Grant, had even become a close friend of Remus and Sirius's. "Morning, you two," he smiled, happy to see them. "Morning, Grant," Remus responded, strolling over to his usual table by the window.
"I had a feeling you two would be here today, so I already have your usual prepared," Grant announced. "Are we really that predictable?" Sirius joked.
"You tell me," Grant shrugged, sliding a hot mocha and chocolate muffin in front of Remus and an iced chai latte and butter croissant in front of Sirius. "Okay, yeah, we are predictable," Sirius laughed.
Grant just laughed and walked away, leaving Sirius and Remus to enjoy their breakfast at their old table with mismatched chairs.
Remus thought it would never be possible to be happier than he is right now, at the perfect little café with his favorite person, drinking his favorite drink in the fall. It was truly a fantasy, as if it was from those cheesy movies Sirius loved so much.
Remus reached his hand across the table to hold Sirius's; he felt like the luckiest boy alive. "Is something wrong?" Sirius asked, noticing that Remus appeared deep in thought. Remus simply smiled. "Nothing, I just love you," he responded. Sirius chuckled and raised Remus's hand to gently kiss it. "I love you too, Moons."
Yes, he truly was the luckiest boy alive.