“Play me something?”
“Too tired.”
“Pleaseeee.”
“Moony.”
“Sirius.”
“Moony.”
“Sirius!”
“You’re lucky you’re so damn adorable.”
Remus’ face lights up, his amber eyes definitely glowing with mischief. Sirius knows that look like the back of his hand. He feels the corner of his mouth, slightly curve up, but twists it down quickly, maintaining a glare towards the boy in front of him.
“Are you sure it’s not because I am just simply so convincing.” Remus’ smile grows as Sirius rolls his eyes.
“You’re ridiculous,” he says as he pushes himself onto his feet from his comfy position on the loveseat and begins to walk towards the other side of the room.
“Ah, but again, I clearly must be right, since you’re listening so well.”
Sirius flips him off without even looking at him.
The piano bench screeches obnoxiously as he pulls it towards him. He settles on top of it and flexes his fingers over the keys.
“Get on with it, pretty boy,” Remus calls from the couch where he’s kneeling, leaning over the back of it with his face sitting on his hands, watching Sirius embarrassingly adoringly.
“Shut up, let the master get to work.”
Remus snorts.
Sirius inhales deeply and begins to sweep across the keys.
- - - -
He remembers when he and Remus picked up their ancient piano. Remus had just landed a job at the local community college as a professor and he and Sirius were out celebrating. On the walk back from their dinner, one too many glasses of red wine started to catch up to them, and they were unsteadily walking hand in hand and speaking loudly to one another.
“Moony, my moony, my moonage daydream, my-”
“You! Make me feel! Like I’m livin’ a! Teen! Age-” Remus shouted, slurring every other word.
Sirius smacked his chest, causing Remus to exhale sharply, “Moony, hush, I’m trying to sing your praises-”
“You! Make me feel-”
“Moony!” Sirius’ voice started to take a whining edge, echoing down the streets.
Remus exploded in laughter which made Sirius roll his eyes and cross his arms over his chest as Remus rubbed a hand against his chest.
“Remus, I swear to god, stop laughing at me. I will drag you home and-”
“I dare you, I dare you Sirius Black-” he slurred. He stared intently down at his shoes to make sure he kept walking in a straight(ish) line.
“Oh dear, you’re definitely smashed,” Sirius sighed. He wrapped an arm around Remus’ waist and pulled him closer, essentially walking him down the road now.
Remus did not mind at all and made it known by resting his cheek on top of Sirius' head. He felt him softly chuckle and give his waist a small squeeze, fingers dug into the little divots of his hip bone.
“Let’s get you home, Mr. Moony,” Sirius softly said. Remus grunted noncommittally and continued to focus on his walking.
They walked in tandem for a few more blocks, their footsteps echoed down the empty and dark streets, and finally approached the familiar view that was their little house. Sirius removed his hand from Remus and reached for the keys to their gate in his pocket which caused Remus to make a soft whining noise and lean onto him.
Sirius grunted, “You’re too heavy, Remus, stand up.”
“Don’t want to, you’re so warm,” Remus grumbled.
“Well let me get us inside and then we’ll be warm, yeah?”
Remus murmured something into Sirius’ hair.
“What was that?”
“You smell goodddd.”
Sirius chuckled and returned to unlocking the gate. He pushed it open with a loud squeaking and-
“Still need to fix that,” Remus mumbled.
He laughed and shook his head, pushing Remus to standing and regained a grasp on his hip. Remus stumbled forward and before Sirius could grab onto him, his knees buckled and he landed on the front lawn, legs stretched out in front of him.
“Remus!” Sirius groaned and stooped down to try to pull him back up by the wrists.
“Nooo, let me just stay here, Sirius. So, so sleepy. Grass is so soft. Has it always been this soft? Sirius has grass-”
“Remus, please for the love of God, shut up and let me help you.” Sirius had his hands under Remus’ arms and was attempting to pull him up while Remus continued to mutter to himself, “God, when did you get heavier, I’m too drunk for this.”
He continued to tug on Remus who was in no way helpful for this process as he continued to talk under his breath and try to stay grounded on the front lawn when all of a sudden he shot right up, scrambling to his feet and shoved Sirius’ hands away, “Padfoot! Look!”
Sirius sighed, “What is happening? Come on let’s go inside, Moony.”
“No, look! Look, honey!” Remus pointed and Sirius followed his fingers to the house across the street.
Recently their neighbor had gone through a wild and vicious divorce involving ear piercing arguments past midnight and many personal items thrown out the front door onto their dying lawn. One night, after an especially raucous fight, Remus and Sirius heard the front door slam and peered out the window (they’re invested okay?), to see one of the wives getting into her car and speeding away. Since then, she had not returned and everyday a larger pile of belongings sat on their grass as the wife seemed to get into fits of passion and throw them through the front doors, the bedroom windows, out her car, anywhere really.
Now on the lawn sat an upright piano, a deep mahogany brown with scruffs all along it, displaying the wood deep underneath the stain. A small piano bench laid on its side next to it. How the neighbor managed to remove this from the house? Sirius had no idea.
But he felt his chest constrict as he gazed at the instrument.
His mother forced him and his little brother to learn as many classical instruments as possible, enrolling them in as many lessons as she could. Over the years they mastered strings, brass, and wind, essentially forming a whole orchestra between the two of them.
While his brother hated the lessons and begrudgingly played at all the dinner parties for their parents’ guests, Sirius found that he had a natural gift for them. He felt that his thoughts settled as soon as his fingers settled on strings, or taps, or keys. The racing words, the never ending anxiety, the persistent voices were suppressed and silenced. While he never enjoyed the cruel teachers that flicked his fingers when an incorrect note was played and only assigned boring baroque classical pieces, he loved being able to play what he wanted and improvise to his heart’s content. Every party or meeting that his parents left for was a chance for him to play what he wanted, the melodies of Bowie and Queen, echoing through the miserable halls.
And the piano was his favorite.
He adored the ancient grand piano that sat in their library and when he left home at sixteen, one of the very few things he missed from the miserable house was that instrument.
He hasn’t owned one since then. The only times he has been able to play was on the dingy piano that sat unloved in the singular practice room at the university he attended which he still finds himself returning to even though he graduated over two years ago.
He needs that crazy neighbor's piano.
His breath is still caught looking at it. His fingers are twitching with the desire to softly touch the keys. He couldn’t tear his sight from it until he saw from the corner of his eyes, Remus darting out into the street.
“Remus!” Sirius screamed and raced to grab him before he stepped foot onto the concrete, grabbing his arm and yanking him back onto the sidewalk. He wrapped Remus into his arms, tightly enclosing him so he wouldn’t escape, “Moony, what the fuck, we’re going inside.”
“You want the piano,” he said into Sirius’ neck, “You want the piano, Sirius, I know you do.”
“It’s fine, Moony, you need to go to bed.”
“Padfoot, come on, please?”
Sirius sighed, “She’ll probably want to keep it, dunno why anyone wouldn’t want to keep it.”
“But-”
“Bed, Moony.” And he dragged him into their house to tuck him to sleep for the night.
The next morning Sirius blinked away to see Remus’ side of the bed ruffled with no Remus in sight.
“Moony?” Sirius questioned as he rubbed his eyes and sat up in the bed.
There was no response. He shoved himself out of bed, kicking the covers to the end of the bed, and stooped to the ground to pick up a shirt off the carpet and made his way out the bedroom door.
“Remus!” He called out as he struggled to slip the shirt over his head and stepped into the living room. He pulled the shirt firmly down on him and-
“Remus?”
“Surprise!”
Remus was smiling, so, so widely, and ever so proudly as he leaned against the crazy neighbor’s piano that sat against the wall in their living room.
“What is that?” Sirius whispered. He took a step forward and Remus reached a hand out to him and pulled him towards the instrument.
Sirius gazed down at the ivory keys, a few of them chipped at the ends, and covered in multiple layers of dust.
It was perfect.
“How did you get this? How did you get it inside? Are you not hung-”
Remus laughed, “Calm down. I woke up early and asked the neighbor if she still wanted the piano and once she stopped talking about her wife she helped me get it inside. Not as heavy as it looks, apparently. Actually a very nice woman, her and her wife are back together, she says- mmph!”
Sirius lunged forward and captured Remus’ face in between his palms and peppered kisses all over his face while saying, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Remus giggled and gladly accepted Sirius’ affection, “You know what this means right?”
“What?”
“You have to play whenever I request!”
Sirius rolled his eyes but pushed a quick kiss against his mouth, “Fine, fine, only fair I guess.”
Remus’ smile grew even larger.
- - - -
“I love when you play for me.” Remus says as Sirius lifts his fingers from the keys, the last note ringing out.
Sirius stands up and climbs over the back of the couch to land right next to the other boy. He leans against him, plopping his head on his shoulder. Remus lifts a hand and rakes his fingers through Sirius’ silky, long hair.
“Maybe I like playing for you.” Sirius whispers.
“Mmm,” Remus presses a kiss to the top of his head, “I would hope so, or I’m going to have to return it to that crazy woman.”
“Hey! Marlene is very lovely! Can you blame her for being a little crazy for that rough patch with Dorcas? I know I would go crazier if you left me.”
Remus rolled his eyes, “Such a sap, Padfoot. Speaking of, the two of them asked us to dinner this week.”
“Ooo, make them take us to Regulus’ restaurant, I’m craving his pasta again.”
“Whatever you like, Sirius,” and he pulls the boy to his chest, twisting the two of them to lay across the couch.
Sirius hums contentedly, “Whatever I like.”