chapter ten
The three were on their best behavior those first couple of weeks, Sirius not once had snogged Marigold, not in the open at least. Remus and Marigold had their fair share of almost getting caught by his parents when they kissed secretly in the living room, against the wall outside, his bedroom, always broken up by Mrs. Lupin calling their names or Sirius running in after spotting Mr. Lupin.
Sirius was growing touch starved, somehow, but knew it would all be worth it, for the Lupins would soon be escaping for two weeks on account of their anniversary in late June.
Indeed it was well worth the discipline, as soon as the adults had departed for a holiday in the South of France, the three went wild.
Marigold had snuck an extra bottle of that fig wine for her and the boys, Sirius had stolen a box of his father's cigars before leaving, and Remus found a hidden stash of his father’s weed and pipe. They would spend an entire week barely clothed, wearing only the necessities, which for the boys did not include much besides a pair of boxers.
They stayed in their pajamas as long as they wanted, smoked weed leaning out the windows, drank and danced on the table in the kitchen, they put on records in the living room only to make out for hours uninterrupted spare for maybe the other boy growing tired of whatever vice he was partaking in patiently.
Marigold would peel them fruit, make them coffee before they woke up, and tea in the afternoon. Remus would cook them meals with ingredients from his father's garden. Sirius would wash the dishes and entertain them.
Marigold had just picked an old Brenda Lee record to put on, she began to dance around, the neck of the wine bottle swinging gently in her left hand. She danced barefoot on the living room rug, humming along to herself.
Remus stuck his head in the room from the kitchen, grinning at the sight of the girl clad in only a pair of Sirius’ boxers and his favorite sweater. Her hair was in curlers, preparing for a visit from their Hogwarts friends.
He crossed to her, taking a sip of the wine before setting it down on a shelf. He offered his hands so they could dance together. He cackled as they swung around in a manner of mayhem. Marigold was no dancer, but she still enjoyed moving about.
He spun her around, pulling her in for a tight kiss. Her cheeks flushed from the wine and the romance of it all. She smiled at him goofily, no words needing to be exchanged. Remus was wearing a large t-shirt and a short pair of boxers.
Sirius flew down the stairs in a hurry, a cigar already in his mouth. He dodged his dancing friends and opened a window. He was shirtless, and a pair of slacks hung loosely around his hips. His hair was down and tickled his collarbones as he leaned his head outside to light the cigar.
Remus pecked the girl's forehead swiftly, before passing her to Sirius. The two brunettes began dancing, the stogie hanging from his bottom lip. Remus sat on the window sill, sipping the wine.
Sirius dipped the girl with little warning and held her there for a moment. She plucked the cigar from his mouth. He smiled mischievously and kissed her, exhaling all the smoke from the puff he’d taken without her noticing into her mouth.
She exhaled it through her nose, harmlessly squinting at him. She took her own puff and extended it to Remus as she exhaled it outside of the house. The song came to a slow end, and she sighed contently.
It all felt so perfect, so domestic, so romantic, so lovely. She was overcome with joy, and emotions for the boys she could hardly put words to. She gazed at Remus’ side profile, running a hand through his unruly hair, he leaned into the touch.
He coughed out some smoke and thrust the lit stick at Sirius. Sirius settled in the spot behind Marigold, his bare chest coming in contact with her back. He wrapped a heavy arm lazily around her shoulders.
She looked up at him, one hand still scratching at Remus’ scalp, and took the cigar with the other. Her eyes fluttered closed as she breathed in deeply.
The three sailed like this for a few more minutes, letting the delicious head rush of plenty of tobacco make their movements slow and entertaining. The ballads of the doo-wop record lulled on, casting the space under a terribly romantic spell.
Before the end of the last song, Sirius gagged. He pushed the other two out of the way just in time to puke out the window into Mr. Lupin’s rose bush. Remus patted his back encouragingly, Marigold held back his hair for him, kissing his shoulder in comfort. He spits the remaining bile out, grimacing.
“Too much nicotine,” He moaned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Maybe we ought to slow down on the cigars, huh?” Remus ashed it on the brick just outside the lip of the window.
“I think we ought to get ready, they’ll be here this afternoon,” Marigold read the watch on Remus’ wrist.