Car Ride
“Not fair! I called it first!” Sirius groans, his fist limp on the door. He slams his hip into the door, then immediately feels bad, mentally apologizing to the door.
“Ha! You’re too slow!” Regulus teases through the door, laughing.
Regulus and Sirius both wanted to shower after the bonfire. Regulus hates the smell of the fire and so does Sirius. So, they both ran up the stairs to the shower.
“Reg! I called it!” Sirius groans.
“I beat you!” Regulus laughs, his voice sing-song.
Sirius whines are cut off by the sound of the shower running. “You suck.”
“You swallow.”
“Fuck you.”
Sirius slumps down and walks back to James’s room. James clearly doesn’t mind the smell of a bonfire, because he’s already in pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Remus is sitting on James’s bed, his phone propped up on his knee.
Sirius notices that Remus always has his left leg straight, always in front of him. It’s almost like having his leg straight hurts him.
Sirius wants to know what that’s about.
“So, this is my room,” James waves his hand around, “mi casa es tu casa.”
Remus snorts at James’s Spanish, “dude, you need to pay attention in class.”
Sirius’s eyes scan the room. He’s caught glimpses of it, through the door frame, but he’s never actually seen it.
It’s a soft brown color with white baseboards. The window is open, with red curtains framing the nigh sky. On the windowsill is a tiny potted plant, no doubt from his mother.
James’s walls paint a story of his life.
Posters are scattered over the wall, hung up with different colored thumbtacks.
Sirius wonders if Effie and Monty don’t mind if James puts holes in the walls with tacks.
The posters are of sports teams, Philadelphia Eagles and the Phillies are the pro teams. UNL Cornhuskers, UNO Mavericks, K-State Wildcats, and Iowa State Cyclones are all college posters. There are posters of his old teams, some from when he was a kid and some from now.
In random places on his wall are photos. Sirius can make out ones of him and Peter. Others of James and Remus. A few of the whole group; Evan, Barty, Remus, James, Marlene, Peter, Dorcas, Lily, and Mary. One picture is of James and Lily.
Lily is pressing a kiss to James’s cheek. James is smiling, his glasses crooked. It’s right after a football game. James is sweaty and gross, his hair sticking to his skin. Lily’s red hair is slicked back into a bubble braid. She’s wearing his jersey over her cheer uniform.
Another photo is of James as a kid. He’s slung over Fleamont’s shoulders, his little mouth open in a laugh. Fleamont has his head turned, looking at his son.
“Pretty nice, huh?” James says, leaning back against the bed frame. He laces his fingers together and place them behind his head.
“Your parents don’t mind if you put a hole in the wall? With the tacks?” Sirius asks, genuinely curious.
James seems taken aback, “holes in the walls? Dude, it’s like the size of a pin. Besides, they’ll have to paint my room anyways. I’ve been in this room since I was a baby.”
“Right, yeah,” Sirius mumbles, almost surprised.
“Sirius Orion Black, you just put a damn hole in my wall!” Orion had yelled after Sirius had hung up a poster. It was one poster, of his school logo. He had won it in a raffle. Sirius remembers being so proud of it.
Sirius settles himself down on the floor. The room had fallen into a comfortable silence. James is on his laptop, checking film from last year’s football games. Remus is sitting on James’s bed, his eyes closed and his head back.
“Hey, have you ever seen this?” James scoots over, his laptop still in his lap, “film?”
Sirius shakes his head, his eyes glancing down to the screen. There’s a little picture for the video and notes about each play on the right.
“I’ll show you. It’s pretty cool, at least I think.” James presses play on the first video and points, “that’s me — number 7 — and that’s Evan - number 10.”
Sirius watches as James’s tan finger moves over the screen.
“Oh! This one is my favorite! Watch!” James says, his finger pressing play on the computer.
“Potter to Rosier! 49 yard touch down! Cardinals win! 27-21!” A voice a lot like Fleamont’s booms over the video. James, number 7, threw the pigskin down the field to an open Evan. Evan jumped up and caught it, tumbling backwards into the end zone.
“Cool, huh?” James says, replaying the video again and again.
“Explain football to me, James,” Sirius says, his eyes glued to the screen.
He’s always wanted to learn American football.
So, James explains football to Sirius, using dramatic hand gestures. They talk for so long they don’t notice Remus falling asleep on the bed, or Buddy padding into the room just to fall asleep with his head in Remus’s lap.
James’s lecture is broken up by Regulus opening the door. “Bathrooms yours.”
Sirius smiles sympathetically at James as he pushes himself off the ground. He walks past Regulus, throwing him a dirty look, then goes into his own room.
The bathroom is small and painted a soft white. The curtains are a soft blue, hung with silver hoops. James’s shampoo and body wash is stacked in one pile in the corner. Regulus’s freshly used ones are stacked neatly in a line on the edge. The shower isn’t large, barely big enough for two people, but it’s comfortable. The tile on the walls is a gray color, some of the tiles darker and some lighter.
On the counters, is a complete mess. James’s toothbrush is laying on the counter, out of the holder. He has three different types of toothpaste. There’s a large bottle of mint mouthwash next to his razor, the matching shaving cream on the other side of the counter. Sirius chuckles softly at the sight.
He really doesn’t understand how one person can be so messy.
The room is still steamy from Regulus’s shower, so Sirius cracks the tiny window to let out the air. He starts the shower, adjusting the temperature, then he strips. His pants pool at his ankles as he pulls his shirt off his head.
Sirius has scars all over his back.
Yes, technically, both Sirius and Regulus faced their parents torment, but Sirius took the physical. The fists and the boots and the cane.
The scars are little pale marks, running down his entire back. Some of them are long and wide, others are short and narrow.
Sirius sighs at his own body, the mirror beginning to fog up from the shower. He strips out of his boxers and steps into the stream.
“Holy fuck—“ Sirius curses, jumping out of the water stream. “That’s hot.”
Sirius adjusts the temperature then steps into the water, letting it run down the rivets of his body. He leans his head back, sighing.
It’s been a long two days.
First, he flew across the world to stay with complete random strangers.
Second, he’s suffering from a severe case of jet lag.
Third, he’s never met so many new people at the same time. And somehow, all of them are friends with James.
Fourth, Sirius really wants to know Remus.
Remus, Sirius noticed, isn’t like the rest of James’s friends. Most of them, immediately greeted Sirius. With either hugs or kind smiles or little waves.
Remus just nodded then went back to stoking the fire.
He’s intriguing.
Sirius wants to pick apart the pieces of Remus and inspect them until Sirius knows every single thing. He wanted to know the secret behind the scar between Remus’s eyebrows and the limp in his walk and the shake in his hands. Sirius wants to read between the wrinkles on Remus’s forehead and soak in every single freckle.
Sirius runs his hands down his face, groaning as he lets the water run down. His hair is freshly washed and his body sudsy from soap. Sirius likes the smell of James’s soap. It’s woody with hints of spice.
Sirius turns off the water, wraps a towel around his waist, and quickly dries his black hair with another towel. He unlocks the door and steps out of the bathroom, his bare feet padding across the floor as he enters his bedroom.
The room has gotten significantly messier than the first day. Sirius didn’t bother to unpack his suitcase, instead, his clothes have been thrown over the floor. His bed is messy, with his pillow being halfway on the floor. His cologne and deodorant, which he used this morning, are laid out on his bed with both of the caps off.
Sirius kneels down next to his suitcase, searching through the articles of clothing for a pair of boxers. He finds a soft black pair, sets it aside, and searches for a pair of sweatpants. After he finds his clothes, he sets them on the bed and lets the towel fall to the floor—
“Sirius, oh fuck!” James opens the door just to quickly cover his eyes, “sorry! Sorry!”
Sirius freezes, his hands over his privates. His body flushes red, head to toe. “James!”
“Sorry! Sorry! I.. oh fuck. I’m sorry!” James repeats, peaking in through the crack in the door, “we are all planning on going for a drive.. so.. err.. I thought I should tell you.”
Sirius replies after his body turns back to its normal shade, “okay.. just.. let me get dressed then I’ll be out.”
“Right, okay. Right. Sorry again. Err.. I’ll just.. go,” James awkwardly mumbles, closing the door.
Sirius shakes his head at James’s awkwardness. He pulls his boxers on, then his sweatpants and an old t-shirt. He quickly rubs on some deodorant and sprays his cologne on his neck.
He walks down the stairs, pulls on his shoes, then goes out to the truck.
It’s the same red truck that Monty drove Regulus and Sirius to the Potter’s in. Sirius slides into the back drivers seat.
James is in the drivers seat, messing with the FM transmitter, which allows him to play music. Regulus is in the passenger seat, texting on his phone. Sirius knows he’s texting Narcissa, since that’s his favorite cousin. Remus is sitting in the back passenger seat, his head back against the rest and his eyes closed.
James and Regulus are both quiet, being respectful of Remus’s much needed sleep.
“So, where are you taking us?” Sirius says, more loudly than he meant. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Remus shift, then slowly open his eyes.
“I was thinking Walmart. It’s a Midwest thing. There isn’t much to do here expect to go to Walmart. It’ll be fun,” James says, finally connecting his phone to the transmitter. He presses play on his phone and Knee Socks by the Arctic Monkeys starts to play.
Sirius hums and relaxes in his seat. As James starts to back up, Sirius looks over and studies Remus. Remus is completely relaxed into the seat, expect for his hands, which are balled into fists in his lap. Sirius wonders why he does that.
Remus’s eyes are closed. There’s a little scar between his eye brows. His lips are chapped and a little bitten. He has multiple freckles on his nose. He has a small wrinkle on his forehead because he raises his eyebrows so much. His eyelashes are so full that Sirius is sure girls are jealous of them. His hair is soft and falls perfectly over his head.
“Fuck!”
James exclamation snaps Sirius out of his thoughts. The car flies forward as James slams on the brakes. Remus’s eyes snap open, a flash of terror, then a deep breath.
“What was that?” Regulus says, his eyes looking out the window.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s a deer.”
Both Sirius’s and Regulus’s eyes widen.
“Look!” James says, pointing past the steering wheel. A fawn and a baby deer walk in front of the truck to the stag that just bounded across. “I guess you probably don’t get that a lot in France. Here is pretty common to hit a deer. Ma hit one a couple months ago. Costed a million bucks to get it repaired.”
“Woah,” Sirius says as James starts to drive again. The roads are bumpy, which bothers both Regulus and Sirius, but James and Remus seem perfectly fine with it. Actually, Remus has his head back again, eyes closed.
Regulus is back on his phone, his hands shaking from the rocky road.
Sirius finally decides to just relax. He leans back in his seat, getting out his phone. He scrolls through Instagram, liking a photo every once in a while.
The car settles into a comfortable silence as James merges onto the interstate towards Omaha. James’s playlist songs add sound to the car, but it’s so low that it’s comfortable.
James can’t sit still, Sirius notices. He’s either drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or adjusting his hands or moving his hair or messing with his glasses. Sirius thinks he has an abundance of energy.
“So.. how much longer?” Regulus says, finally looking up from his phone.
“Uhh.. 30 minutes?” James says, looking from his phone to the road.
“30 minutes?!” Sirius and Regulus say at the same time. 30 minutes, to them, seems far.
James shrugs it off, “yeah. It always takes 30 minutes to get to Omaha.”