Chapter 2
Sirius Black was happy with the life he’d made for himself. He had several very successful careers, people who would literally sacrifice their souls so he could be happy, and a very close group of friends.
What else could a man want?
Fame? Fortune? No, he had that covered, but love? That was something that Sirius was severely lacking in.
It wasn’t like he didn’t have people who loved him: Fangirls, the press, so on and so forth. And he loved some other people: James, Regulus, Peter, Euphemia and Monty. But it wasn’t enough.
Ever since he was sixteen, and had run away from Grimmauld Place with Regulus, he had longed for somebody to care for him the way that Euphemia cared for Monty, or he cared for Regulus.
In order to fill this hole, he had decided to become an actor, and that had helped, but then he wanted to change his career, to try something new, so he went to sing with his two best friends, James and Peter.
They had formed a band they called “The Marauders” and they each had a fairly large handful of fangirls (and guys).
That didn’t work either.
Eventually, Sirius tried to settle for one-night stands with fangirls off the street, at least they got to have fun with it.
This is what drew Sirius to the conclusion that he should go to his local Starbucks and ponder his life.
He walked in like he owned the place (He easily could. He had plenty of money), and paced briskly over to the counter, looking over the menu.
“Venti Caramel frappuccino with a-” he says, before looking at the boy behind the counter.
Fuck
He’s smitten.
Not the boy; the boy is looking at Sirius like he’s the shit on the bottom of his shoe. But Sirius is sure that there’s little red cartoon hearts popping out from his own eyes right now.
The boy is gorgeous. He’s got a mop of sandy blonde hair, on his head, and it’s perfectly tousled around. His eyes are a warm shade of amber that Sirius could melt into. And his face.
Jesus Christ, his face. He’s got a long scar running across his nose, and his skin is a slightly darker shade than Sirius’s, which is a pale white. The boy has freckles spattered across his face like stars, and Sirius wishes he could stand here forever, admiring the boy’s gorgeous, gorgeous features.
“Venti Caramel frappuccino with a?” the boy prompts, violently whipping Sirius out of his staring.
“A-” Sirius clears his throat. “A- a-”
Oh god. How’s he going to get through this? The boy is staring daggers at Sirius now, his amber eyes sharpening, and oh, if Sirius could be looked at like that forever in this tiny Starbucks by that gorgeous boy, he would finally be content.
“Look, we’re closing in a minute, so if you don’t know, then leave.” The boy tells him.
That was odd. Most people would be willing to keep their shops open for hours if he’s still browsing, not that he let them.
“No!” Sirius exclaims, “Um… Sorry I want a Venti Caramel frappuccino with a Lemon Loaf please.”
The boy looks at him, unamused. “Alright.”
He turns around to make the coffee, and Sirius takes the opportunity to stare at his arse.
The boy takes his time making the coffee, which is probably out of spite, but Sirius would like to think it’s because the boy loves him and wants to take extra care when making his drink.
When the boy comes back to the counter, Sirius glances at his name tag.
Remus. That’s his name. Remus, Remus, Remus, Remus, Remus
“9.33 Euros please.” Remus tells him.
Sirius stumbles to grab his credit card, but holds it out to Remus, who takes it and starts tapping buttons on his computer.
“Pleasure doing business with you.” Remus says, handing back the card.
“Do… do you know who I am?” Sirius asks tentatively.
Remus arches his brow, and oh god, it’s so hot.
“Should I?” He says, his lovely Welsh accent shining through. “All I know is that you’re the asshole who comes in two minutes before we close.”
Sirius can feel his face heat up.
“Touche.” He mutters. “Do you really not know?”
“Nope.” Remus tells him. “And I don’t care.”
“Sirius Black?” Sirius tries, “The Marauders? Ringing a bell?”
“Nuh-uh. I was supposed to close five minutes ago.”
“Oh.” Sirius says, feeling his heart clench.
He turns and leaves the shop, but he thinks he hears Remus mutter something under his breath, and he hopes, oh, he hopes that Remus is saying something nice about Sirius and not just calling him “That annoying guy that showed up last minute that I hope I never see again”. Albeit, the latter option was more likely.