The Mechanic
11 November, 1981
Sirius
Their routine that week was, superficially, very similar to the previous week; there were, however, minor changes which thrilled Sirius to no end.
They still awoke tangled together every morning but with the added benefit of being naked in Remus's bed. If Harry wasn't up yet, they spent the morning enjoying one another, snuggling, snogging, or shagging until the baby-monitor-charm inevitably alerted them that Harry was awake. The three of them would have breakfast together, accompanied by a first mug of much-needed caffeine for the grown-ups.
They'd then move to the living room, Harry on his playmat, Sirius and Remus cuddled up on the couch - finishing their second (or third) caffeine injection, more often than not. They'd divvy up the Daily Prophet, chat about the latest news, discuss any new ideas related to the impending relocation, or go over their lists of things to pack, supplies to acquire, and questions to ask Dumbledore. As the week went on, every item checked off the first two lists seemed to be matched by another added to the third. Most of the questions were Remus's, but Sirius felt he'd made enough valuable contributions to pull his weight. He'd off-loaded his mental "for later" notices, at least.
The afternoons were usually spent packing, followed by an evening of "daddy-daddy" time as Sirius continued to call it, purely for the satisfaction of Remus's dependable eye-roll. With the winter approaching, it was hardly ever warm enough for Sirius to work on his bike - his preferred afternoon activity, at least overpacking. On Wednesday, however, he saw the day's predictions (sunny, 15°C, light breeze) and decided to do some tinkering.
Rather than staying in the living room with Harry to read, Remus gathered up the toddler and his toys to follow Sirius outside. Surprised, Sirius flashed a smile over his shoulder at the pair of them before turning to his bike, feeling oddly nervous about having an audience. Truth be told, with no way to obtain parts, nor any repairs to make, he usually just disassembled and reassembled sections for something to do. He'd once taken the entire thing apart by hand, down to every nut and bolt, and practised reassembling it by magic.
Yeah, like now-grown-boy-genius Moony, who's been able to read you like an open book since you were both 11, hasn't noticed the evidence and concluded you have nothing better to do.
… Fair point. So why's he out here, then? To catch me out?
Think of it this way: if the roles were reversed, where would your eyes be?
A brief image of Remus, dressed in a Muggle t-shirt and denims, bent over a massive motorbike, turning a wrench with toned arms. Sweat dripping off his hair, down his back, shirt becoming translucent, down to those tight jeans, which were getting greasy…
… Right. Time to put on a show.
Sirius had never struggled with flirting. He had been famed at Hogwarts for doing the opposite of struggling. With everyone. Another fact that Remus undoubtedly remembered. He was eager to turn his renowned skills on this man, who as a boy had witnessed their development and refinement first-hand.
Not drawing his wand, he twisted a hand in the air to summon his tool kit from thin air. It was a tricky charm, to hide an object in vanished-space and be able to summon it back. Especially when that object was itself magical. But he'd had years of practice with his second-most prized possession: the enchanted tool kit, which offered up the tool you needed - even if you didn't know what it was. It had its limitations on the number of tools that could be used simultaneously, and the duration of their use, but he mainly used it to tinker with his first-most prized possession. The motorbike.
Drawing out a large wrench, he bent to one knee, and started to disassemble the bike.
Remus
He felt like he could see the gears whirring through the back of Sirius's head, trying to figure out why Remus was watching. He envisioned a light bulb turning on in his skull as Sirius reached a hand into the space beside him and twisted it. The gesture caused an object to appear in his hand. Genuinely impressed already, Remus's eyes widened as he watched Sirius pull out a wrench that was clearly too large to fit in the box he'd summoned from the aether.
Admiring the ease of the complicated, wandless spellwork, Remus sat back to enjoy the show.
Harry toddled and played around the yard. With protection and baby-proofing enchantments permeating the property, there was little to worry about as long as he stayed in sight.
Sirius was kneeling by the bike, the pose giving an exceptional view of his rear cupped by tight denim. Remus wished he could squeeze his hands into those back pockets, but that wasn't the point of the show.
His arm was turning the wrench, muscles visibly flexing. The other held the bike steady, strong fingers gripping the leather seat. Remus let his mind wander, to memories of those muscles working towards another goal, those fingers gripping tighter as they neared the finish…
Sirius wiped a hand on his jeans, starting at his hip and circling down and up his rear. The action left a hand-shaped trail of grease, and Remus couldn't help but imagine his own hand following that trail… his eyes snapped to Sirius's face, noting the fully-expected-yet-nevertheless-annoying smirk.
Oh, he's going to pay for this later.
A different aspect of his psyche corrected, No, he's going to make good on his promises.
Smirking himself now, he wandlessly cast a warming charm towards Sirius, raising the ambient temperature around the motorbike by half a degree. After allowing a minute or two - which he spent watching the muscles working, the denim shifting - he cast a second charm. Another few minutes. Another charm. He slowed the repetitions as he saw a bead of sweat drip, at last, down Sirius's forehead. That evens the score a bit; one to Moony, two to Padfoot.
Sirius didn't seem to notice the unnatural heat, though he did use the back of his left hand to wipe his sweaty brow. A small streak of grease was left behind. He wiped the hand on his right shoulder before returning it to steadying the bike. His t-shirt now had a greasy handprint, right on one of Remus's favorite places to grip.
Another point to Sirius, he admitted. This won't do at all. He aimed another warming charm, this time only raising the temperature by a tenth of a degree. As the minutes went on, Sirius continued dismantling and laying out pieces of the bike, his white shirt becoming translucent as he perspired more and more. He still didn't seem aware of the unnatural heat as Remus kept raising it incrementally.
Remus's eyes roamed across Sirius's muscular shoulders and back, now visible through the clinging cotton; then down to his toned glutes and thighs, so wonderfully accentuated by close-fitting jeans; and back up to his arms and hands, smaller muscles jumping now as he began the delicate work of separating smaller and smaller pieces; then further up to his sweaty hair, strands now clinging to his neck and face, frequently forcing him to push it off his forehead and away from his eyes.
He could have tied it up, but apparently, he'd noticed how much Moony liked it loose; even more delectable were the little lines of grease left every time he brushed back a dripping lock.