Sweet Spot
Remus spends a silly amount of time on Saturday morning trying to decide on an outfit. He knows he doesn’t need to impress Sirius, but he still wants to. He realises how long it's been since he really cared about his appearance. It's funny how priorities shift. He needs a haircut, he decides, looking in the mirror. And he could do with some new trousers. His are all stained or torn from work, other than his best ones, the ones he wore to christmas, but he can hardly whip those out for breakfast with a five year old, even if it is technically their first date.
He eventually settles on dark green corduroys and a brown knitted jumper. He forgets how much cologne is a reasonable amount and he brushes his teeth three times over the course of an hour. Eventually, he ends up on Sirius’ doorstep, feeling butterflies for first time since- no, no thinking about Fenrir.
He rings the doorbell, and Harry flings it open immediately, like he’s been waiting, and throws himself into Remus’ arms.
“Moony! Moony! I missed you soooooooo much! Padfoot says you’re staying for breakfast and that you’ll come over more and maybe pick me up from school if I’m really good so I’m being really good!” he shouts in Remus face, and Remus couldn’t suppress his smile if he tried with all his might. He carries Harry into the kitchen to find Sirius standing at the stove, his hair tied up and secured with a spoon, which makes Remus snort with laughter. He’s in a rugby jersey that Remus assumes is James’ and soft flannel pyjama trousers.
“Remus!” Sirius says when Harry announces their presence, bounding over and hesitating for a split second before he leans over and kisses Remus on the cheek, his breath minty and his lips soft.
“Please, sit down. Would you like coffee? Juice?”
“Hot chocolate!” Harry screams, sitting down in his special chair and tugging Remus down next to him. Sirius gasps dramatically.
“You can’t have chocolate pancakes and hot chocolate! That's too much!” he says with mock horror.
“Nuh uh! You promised, dadfoot!” Harry counters, swinging his feet and giggling.
“I did promise,” Sirius capitulates, making a big song and dance of getting the hot chocolate powder from the cupboard and selecting Harry’s favourite mug. Remus hasn’t seen this frivolous, fatherly side to Sirius before and he loves it, smiling so wide his cheeks ache. Harry is the happiest kid on earth, nattering on about school, and his friends, and his favourite dog that he sees in the park sometimes as Sirius lines up jars of jam and marmalade and nutella on the table, with cartons of juice and a posh french press full of coffee.
Just as they’re about to eat, the kitchen door swings open and a boy who looks like someone tried to draw Sirius from memory is standing there. Reg was like the raven to Sirius’ dove. Reg was shorter, and skinnier, and he hunched over in such a way that made him look like his very skeleton was stooped by the pure fact of his existence. His hair fell over his forehead, obscuring most of his forehead, and large black chunky headphones hung round his neck.
“Uncle Reggie! Come eat Pancakes with Moony and me!” Harry yelled out happily, breaking the awkward silence that had begun to form.
“Reg, come and eat with us. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be awake this morning.” Sirius' whole demeanour had changed. He seemed smaller, cowed by the presence of his younger brother in a way that took Remus by surprise.
“Alright? I’m Remus.” he said, sticking his hand out over the table when Reg sat opposite him. Reg hesitated for a few seconds too long, and Remus was about to pull his hand back before it was grasped in cold, clammy fingers.
“‘M Reg.” his voice was thin nasally, like he wasn’t used to speaking, and Remus supposed maybe he wasn’t, what with what he knew of Reg and Sirius’ family life.
Sirius’ hand found Remus’ knee under the table and squeezed, as if in apology for Reg being there, but Remus didn’t mind. He had been telling the truth the previous evening; he knew Sirius led a busy and complicated life, and he was willing to work around it, happy to take Sirius as he came.
*
Remus is elbow deep in suds, as Harry ‘helps’ him by continuously adding more soap to the sink when Sirius’ phone rings.
“Shit! Shit, shit, shit.” He mutters as he sees who it is, fleeing the room as he answers. Remus frowns and tries not to worry, finishing the washing up and helping Harry wash the Nutella off his hands and face and out of his hair. How it got there in the first place Remus didn’t know, and it made him grateful he didn’t have to put up with a young child on a daily basis.
“Harry!” Sirius yelled from upstairs, “come up here, please!”
Harry and Remus shared a worried look, and the two of them legged it up the stairs.
“Harry, lovely boy, can you help me by putting all your toys away, please? And Remus and I are going to go and tidy the living room? That nice lady is coming again today- remember her? She has a little chat with me and watches you play?” Sirius said, frantic energy rolling off him in waves, running around Harry’s bedroom, straightening the duvet, and picking up the dirty clothes strewn on the floor.
“Remus, I am so sorry,” Sirius pants as he leads the other man downstairs. “This is so not how I wanted this to go, and I really hope it doesn’t make you regret your decision yesterday, but Harry’s social worker is coming by this afternoon, and I completely forgot. I wanted to take you on a nice walk up to the mound, but I don’t think I’ll have time, I have to make the house impeccable.”
“Harry has a social worker?” Remus asks, dumbfounded. He had a social worker. He had hated him. Albus had been a condescending and impersonal care worker. He had threatened to take Remus from his Gran on several occasions, for things that were beyond Gran’s fault, like leaky pipes or the reputation of the neighbourhood in which they lived.
“Yeah.” Sirius panted as he began to tidy up the living room, fluffing cushions and folding blankets and gathering the mugs and plates and kid’s sippy cups that littered the surfaces.
“I told you I only got Harry two years ago? After the accident, he got sent to his official next of kin, Lily’s sister. She had a husband, and a son of her own only a year older than Harry, so it was assumed she would be the perfect guardian.”
Sirius walked towards the kitchen as he explained, and Remus followed, picking up some more mugs that were on the coffee table- god, how much tea did Sirius drink?
“Only, she wasn’t perfect because she hated Lily growing up, and her husband was a racist cunt who didn’t want a brown little boy in his perfect white Surrey home. They were abusive and neglectful. They put Harry in the cupboard under the stairs, even though they had a spare bedroom. They barely fed him, only giving him the leftovers of whatever they ate, and used the social care payments they got to send their son to a posh private nursery, and left Harry without any form of initial education. He was nearly four when I gained custody, and even though he should have been in reception and on his way to reading and writing, he didn’t even know his own name. It was awful- I can still barely think about it. Anyway, there was a court case, obviously, after a neighbour raised suspicions, and I fought for custody and won, but it means a social worker pops by twice a year or so to check that I’m looking after him properly.”
Remus was floored. He had never even suspected. Come to think about it, Sirius had made references to Harry being traumatised many times, but he had sort of assumed it was the death of his parents, despite knowing Harry would have been too young to have any memory of that, now.
Remus didn’t know what to say so he settled for, “how can I help?”
“I don’t even know, to be honest. I never know what they’re looking for- what they’ll catch me out on. Will they take him away if they find out I’m gay? Is the garden well-kept enough? Is the food healthy enough?” Sirius laughs a little maniacally as he throws the crockery he’s holding into the dishwasher. Remus grabs him by the shoulders, forcing him to stop.
“Sirius. Trust me- all of this? It's perfect. I had a social worker, and I grew up in a shitty one bedroom flat down the back arse of Aberdeen in a building that has since been determined unsafe housing, sleeping on a sofa bed and living off baccy and drugs and no one took me away from Gran. not that any of that was her fault, though. She did better than any mum could’ve done by me, but I did not make it easy for her, and even with my arrests she got tae keep me. You will be fine.”
In his haste to placate Sirius, he failed to realise quite how much of his past he had wanted to keep hidden. Now, in the daylight of Sirius’ sparkling posh kitchen full of all the mod cons, Remus’ complicated and painful past felt like he was dragging dirt in; messing up this place so untouched by his particular brand of sorrow.
“Arrests?” Sirius asked, mouth hanging open.
“Ah, shite.” Remus huffed, trying to grin. “I s’pose I’ve scared you off me, now.”
Sirius shook his head vehemently. “No- no! Never. You could never scare me off, I just… there’s so much I don’t know about you.”
“Aye, and it would be boring if we started off with you knowing it all, yeah? Part of the point of dating is to get to know one another.”
Sirius looked upset, almost, that there were parts of Remus he hadn’t yet seen. Remus supposed he could understand, but he also knew he would be slow to open up, and he wasn’t going to hurry up that process for Sirius’ comfort, when it would cause him such discomfort to do so.
“I’m not keeping secrets, mind, I’m just slow to open up, okay? If this goes as well as I hope it does, you’ll know me inside and out soon enough. Now- what about Reg?”
Remus’ reassurances seemed to mollify Sirius somewhat, and his final question panicked him.
“Shit! Reg! Shit!” Sirius buried his head in his hands and groaned, leaning against Remus’ chest. A part of Remus that he had long believed dead awoke at that, and he felt inordinately pleased that Sirius was leaning on him, drawing comfort from his presence. He wrapped his arms around him and tucked him in close.
“Send Reg over to mine. He can just kip on the sofa until the visit is over, alright? There’s no need to panic, you’ll just tire yourself out.”
Sirius just grunted and shoved his face into Remus’ neck. Remus wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He had never had this sort of contact before. Fenrir had never been affectionate like this, had never sought comfort or touch from Remus that didn’t come in the form of sex. He rubbed a hand up and down Sirius’ back and pressed his cheek to the top of Sirius head, and the two of them stood there for a few peaceful minutes. Remus breathed in the smell of vanilla and sleep from Sirius and revelled in the novelty of the feeling.
“Right. Right. I need to shower, and finish my bedroom. You go home, Rem, and I’ll send Reg over in a bit. Okay?”
“Aye, okay. You know where I am if you need me.” Remus kissed the top of Sirius’ head again, because he could, because Sirius was his boyfriend now and he was allowed to do all the cheesy romantic things he had once dreamed of as a boy, before he ambled out of the house, pausing to smoke a cig on his doorstep before going inside.
*
As standoffish as Reg was, Remus didn't mind it. He was used to this- quiet, sullen and traumatised youths. Reg was like a mirror image of who Remus had been at seventeen, so Remus showed him to the kitchen and offered him all manner of drinks and snacks, which Reg steadily refused. Remus then shrugged and said he’d be upstairs if Reg needed him. Reg mumbled some vague acknowledgement, before falling onto the sofa and whipping out his phone, so Remus left him to it.
Eventually, time for his shift rolled around, and Reg was still on the sofa.
“Hey, I have tae go tae work now. Just head back over whenever Sirius says tae. I appreciate the past few weeks have been hard for you. If you ever want a bit of space and peace and quiet just knock, yeah? You know where I am. I work most days from about three pm.”
Remus wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing when he made the offer, but the grateful glint in Reg’s eyes as he nodded made Remus smile. If he had had somewhere quiet and peaceful and safe to go as a kid that was away from his normal life, he might not have felt tempted to cause so much trouble.
*
“So? How did it go?” Mary all but yelled as he entered the pub, running out from behind the bar.
“Huh? How did what go?” Remus said to wind her up, grinning down at her indignant face.
“I swear to god, Remus! I need details!” she huffed, poking his side.
“Details of what? The dinner I had with my boyfriend?”
Mary screamed. Remus had been expecting an enthusiastic reaction, but he hadn’t been expecting that. She jumped up and down on the spot a few times before flinging herself at him. Luckily, practising with Harry meant he caught her easily, and she squeezed him tight.
When she had calmed down enough for her feet to be firmly planted on the floor, she crossed her arms and stared up at him.
“If I could reach your shoulders more easily I’d be holding onto them now but alas. I am happy for you, but I also want you to know that if he pulls any funny shit ever again I’ll murder him. You’ll hate this, but when you were fooling around with him, it was like the sadness that you seem to carry with you everywhere got smaller, and it was so nice to see. And then he made it go tits up and you got sad again and I don’t like seeing you sad, Rem. You’re my boy, you know? I hope he makes you happy.”
Remus was floored by the uncharacteristic show of emotion, and he nodded, a bit dumbfounded.
“Yea, I hope he makes me happy too.”
*
Remus returned home to see Regulus asleep on his sofa, an iPad propped on the coffee table still playing some tv show. He should probably get a tv, he decided, if he was going to have guests.
The thought made him raise his eyebrows at himself. Guests?
The Remus of even a few months ago would never have dreamed of inviting people into his home, let alone consider spending lavish amounts of money on things to make his guests comfortable, but as he lingered on the doorway and surveyed the dark and empty living room, listening to the soft breaths of Reg, he decided that maybe he could open his home up to new people- and open himself up too.
Wasn’t that what he had been doing?
He smiled softly to himself, sending Sirius his first text- they had exchanged numbers the night before but had had no reason to message each other- to say that Regulus was still asleep on the sofa and that Remus intended to leave him there, unless there was a pressing reason he was needed back.
Remus made a quick-fix dinner of a large plate of oven chips and ate them at his kitchen table, deciding that one day soon he would tackle the garden, make it liveable. A small voice in his head that sounded like Gran whispered that he should make it playable, if his new life involved a boisterous five year old.
His new life. What a lovely thought.