Of Duets and Dinner Dates
“If I’d known you were going to be this insufferable, I’d never have let you move in,” James said as he idly stirred the curry on the stove.
Sirius grinned broadly. “If I’d known you were into musical theatre five years ago, we could have had so much fun at Hogwarts and I might have moved in sooner.”
“I expected you to take the piss,” James protested. “Not outdo me.”
“And yet here we are, spending the best summer ever in a muggle musical together,” Sirius said, putting a hand on his heart and fluttering his eyelashes. “It’s like one of those romantic films. Maybe this is the start of the rest of our lives.”
James shook his head as Sirius executed a perfect spin and began the steps for the last dance, singing obnoxiously loudly as he paraded around the kitchen. He thanked his lucky stars that his parents were dining with friends this evening - not because Sirius wasn’t talented, but because his chaos was in total opposition to their usually calm home.
Then he considered the fact that Sirius’s parents would never have allowed such frivolity and wondered how his best mate had lasted at home for so long.
“Are you going to help me cook, or not?” He asked finally, trying - and failing - to keep a straight face.
“Sure,” Sirius said, snapping to attention and stepping forwards. He dipped a spoon that James was certain he hadn’t been holding before into the sauce and tasted it. “Not bad,” he said, tapping the spoon against his lips. “Got any ginger?”
“Yep.” James disappeared into the pantry and returned with the gnarled-looking root to find Sirius once again spinning. “That doesn’t constitute helping, by the way,” he added. “We’re cooking together - not James cooks while Sirius watches.”
Sirius pulled a face, but stirred obediently while James peeled and chopped the ginger. After a few moments of silence, Sirius - apparently unable to help himself - began to sing.
“Summer lovin’ had me a blast,” he began, almost under his breath.
“Sirius, that isn’t even your song!” James protested, still fighting with a particularly tough piece of ginger.
Sirius ignored him and carried on singing, admittedly rather well. But he didn’t move on in the song; he repeated the line, and gathered volume, smiling wickedly as James turned to scowl at him.
Finally, James rolled his eyes and gave in. “Summer lovin’ happened so fast,” he sang back, and Sirius immediately picked up the duet, once again batting his eyelids and playing the part of a lovestruck teenager far too well for his own good.
The curry bubbled away unheeded while half of the group affectionately known as the Marauders paraded around the kitchen and put on quite the performance - until the very end.
“But oh, those summer-”
“- niiiiiiiiggggghhhts!” Peter’s nasally and terribly off-key voice joined in, echoing down the hallway. Sirius winced; James’s mouth hung comically open in shock. Clearly, neither of them had heard the doorbell.
Remus appeared behind Peter and sniffed, then hurried to the curry and stirred it vigorously. “Erm… why is there so much singing?” He asked bemusedly. “And so little… well, stirring?”
“It’ll be fine,” Sirius said dismissively. “Isn’t curry sauce a good fifty percent… well, grease?”
James groaned and dropped his face into his hands.