Seeping on the Coutch of the (Platonic) DILF
Remus closes the door on his side with his foot, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket and his gaze fixed on the set of apartments that Sirius has had the foal to find with a free parking at the door. It’s a pretty basic building, so to speak. It’s not in the best shape, but the truth is, he’s seen worse buildings in his childhood, and for the two of them it seems to be enough.
As Sirius pulls Harry out of the backseat, Remus stops to read the graffiti painted on the bar’s fence next to the door. “ Pretty legs, what time do they open? “ Thank God Harry’s asleep, watching his teacher laugh at such an indecent compliment is not a good image to give. When he hears the door close again, he focuses his attention on the small family.
“ Don’t take it the wrong way but, do you mind coming up with us? Between having to put the kid to bed and telling the neighbor, I’m going to take a little while. And honestly, I prefer not to risk you becoming tired of waiting and leaving with your car when you are so tired. “ Before answering, Remus looks at his watch. Twenty to eleven. He’s definitely not going to touch his bed in life.
“ Okay, but only because I need to use the bathroom. “ Resigned, Remus takes his bag from the car and Sirius closes it, the lights flickering with a final click.
“ Thank you. “ And that’s how Sirius walks to his portal, balancing his jacket, child and motorcycle helmet on one arm while looking for the keys to the door with the other. Without asking, Remus grabs his helmet. Sirius seems puzzled by the action, but he doesn’t give it that much importance either. Keys stuck in the door, Remus feels quite potent claustrophobia as he sees the microscopic size of the lobby, with no windows and a few smashed mailboxes on the wall. Nothing else except for a few doors. Remus is hoping one of the few mailboxes that hasn’t suffered any damage is Sirius’.
Without thinking much, he follows the man down the steep stairs and it’s here that his head asks for a pause.
Is he really going upstairs to a suspicious apartment following a man who he knows absolutely nothing about because he promised him a trip home?
Remus stops on a step.
Well, yes, he is.
He shrugs his shoulders and keeps going up like nothing. If they find his body tomorrow, at least he will be wearing a nice outfit and he’ll finally be able to sleep. If you think about it, it doesn’t seem so bad.
And that’s precisely the problem – that Remus isn’t thinking. A fresh-cleared-of-mind Remus wouldn’t have agreed to let a mysterious man drive him home in his own car. And certainly wouldn’t follow him to a second location.
But this is not that Remus (just as this is not the beautiful Sirius), this one is sleepy, and sleep makes him an idiot.
Before Sirius knows it, Remus returns to the steps.
A short distance from the man and the boy, he climbs about three floors, each decorated as if they were part of completely different buildings and the product of different decorators. The flight of stairs doesn’t follow that pattern, though, because the three it has crossed are the same: a dirty white wall full of graffiti and drawings (surprisingly none obscene) and a railing that looks like it will fall if someone puts a finger on it. Remus hopes to be mistaked about it for Harry’s sake, but he’s not going to play it out and put it to the test either (his sleepy brain is at least for that).
Finally, when the floor is four, Sirius stands in front of a door on the right, the one that’s black and with a plush of a white owl welcoming them from the floor. While inserting the key, Sirius wipes his boots with the floor mat. When he enters the apartment, Remus imitates his action and shakes the dust off his shoes over the writing of Arkham Asylum for the Criminal Insane. Just hope Harry is ignorant and naive enough not to know what it means.
Feeling out of place, he closes the door as quietly as he can, losing Sirius and Harry inside the apartment.
Or maybe the garbage and the clutter absorbed them when he wasn’t looking because, my God.
There’s garbage everywhere.
He can only see the dining room and kitchen from where he is standing, but he’s afraid to be able to see the rest.
“ Sorry about the mess. “ Sirius apologizes to him, peeking out the door of the hallway for a second, the time it takes to take off his jacket and leave it on the floor as if nothing had happened. That explains everything . “ I’ll put the child to bed and I’ll come. “ And he disappears again.
Remus knows it’s wrong to judge someone else’s house, but... this is not the environment to raise a child. Taking off his coat and bag to do something with his hands, he analyzes the whole room.
Sirius' apartment is... a shoebox. Well, at least it has the rectangular shape of one, with the door on the left side and a large window on the left side. In this area is what assumes is the living room, with a bottle-green sofa almost as large as it is ceded, a coffee table with so many cups that can easily be an entire collection and a television not so extraordinary. To the right is the kitchen with a wide concept that protects what is the washing room by all the light that comes from it. Seeing the condition of the dining room, he doesn’t even dare to inquire about the kitchen.
At about the same height as the entrance, there is the frame of the door through which Sirius disappeared, a horizontal corridor that supposedly leads to the rooms and the bathroom. That reminds him of the reason why he came.
“ Sirius? “ His name feels strange in his mouth. Hanging his things on a coat rack with nothing else, Remus walks into the dining room with his hands under his armpits, afraid to touch anything.
“ Yes? “ His voice echoes in the hallway.
“ Bathroom? “
“ On the right. “
And Remus enters the hallway, which makes a brutal contrast to the dining room and kitchen: white, bright and clear, with some pictures hanging on the walls and some movie posters that catch his attention. Along this there are three doors: the farthest one is on the right, almost glued to the window that illuminates the area with curtains full of pins and patches too far away to identify of what. This one’s closed, so he doesn’t give it any more thought. The one in the center, more to the left, is open. The third one’s almost stuck to the open, so Remus doesn’t feel so meticulous when he looks in it on his way to the bathroom.
The scene he finds makes his heart shake.
If the hallway was a huge contrast, this room is even more so. From the light coming in from the hallway, Remus is able to say that each and every piece of furniture in it is new, that the two walls painted red with a lion drawn have been decorated with patience and affection, and that the sheets that now cradle Harry are new and expensive.
That the love with which Sirius is tucking his godson is nothing made up, it is not a pedophile conspiracy to pick up a child with dysfunctional parents, that when Sirius told him that Harry was his responsibility, he said it in truth, knowing the true meaning of it.
And with just this glance and a day of meeting them both, Remus is able to see that Sirius would do anything, anything for Harry’s sake and happiness.
And Remus is moved by that, because he can understand how lucky Harry is to have it.
Before doing anything awkward (and because he feels that keep looking is rather intrusive), Remus passes by what must be Harry’s room and goes into the bathroom.
And while it’s true that it’s not impeccable and that he fears for the resistance of the shelf of bathroom products that continue around the sink and accumulate in different baskets, the bathroom is not so bad, in worse holes he has pissed.
† † †
After washing his hands and face, Remus leaves the bathroom and finds Harry’s door closed, a collage of animals and animated characters framing the top of it.
Standing on the door frame, he sees Sirius running to sort out (rather hide the trash) the mess of the room.
“ You don’t have to do that. “ He tells him in a reassuring voice. And what he says is true, he’s not going to be here long enough for the mess to bother him.
“ I’m not doing it for you. “ He explains by putting plastic containers from the sofa into a bag. Remus feels stupid for implying that - as if he mattered that much . “ Well, yes, partly yes, but more for Alma.”
“ Alma? “ The plastic out of the sofa, Sirius moves on.
“ The neighbour at the front door suffers from terrible insomnia, and she does me the favor of taking care of Harry when I work at night.” With a moderately clean cloth, Sirius cleans the coffee table. It’s almost impressive the ability he has to carry more than ten cups on an only trip. “ All I have to do in return is help her with her college work and take care of her cat when she’s away. You know, neighbour solidarity. “ Remus follows him with his eyes as he runs from one side to the other. “ Last time she made me promise to clean the dining room, but… “
“ You haven’t had time. “His cheeks paint when Sirius sees that he has been discovered.
“ I told you I’m a mess, didn’t I? “
“ Don’t think that, my room at the residence was worse than this.” The reason was his roommate Peter, but Sirius doesn’t need to know that. ” Can I help you? “
“ Nah, don’t worry. I’ll be done in a minute. “ But even with that, Remus helps him. And as he does, he finds the motorcycle helmet in between and a question he should have asked earlier pops into his head.
“ How did you expect to get back if you hadn’t used my car? “
“ Well, with my motorcycle, of course. “
“ And Harry? “ Sirius stops cleaning to look at him as if he doesn’t understand the point of that question, as if everything was clear.
“ Too..? “ If Remus could, his eyes would fall out of place from the impression.
“ Are you telling me you’re carrying a six-year-old on your motorcycle? “ Not understanding what the scandal is about, Sirius nods and Remus wants to throw the trash bag into his head.
“ He wears a helmet and sits in the front with his back against my chest. It’s safe. “
“ Are you sure? “ He knows he shouldn’t be so upset, but he can’t help it. ” Are you out of your mind? How can you-?! “ But it’s slowing down. He slows down because he has no say in the matter to shout his opinion, and slows down because Sirius' expression shows enough impotence to fill a quota. “ Don’t you have a car? I know you wear it with protection and care, but it’s a very small kid. “
Sirius almost seems ashamed to answer.
“ No, I’m saving for one but- but with Harry I have a lot of expenses. “
“ And use the bus? The train? “ Sirius has to cover his face with his hands because of the shame he gives to answer, as if it were humiliating for him.”
“ I can’t... “ As if he were giving his voice the necessary boost, Sirius clarifies it for him. “ I can’t afford it. I’d rather give him a snack for class than send him into a car by himself. I know you can’t understand why I’m risking it on the bike, but believe me when I say I have no choice. I tried to sell it to buy a second-hand car, but nobody gave me enough, so I kept it because at least that way we have a way of transportation. “ Sirius sits on the TV cabinet, elbows on his knees and looks evasively. “ Alma takes him almost every morning, taking advantage of the fact that she goes to college and the school is on her way, but sometimes she can’t and I don’t want to take hours of sleep away from the child because he has to walk just ‘cause his godfather is a mess. “
Remus sighs.
It’s true, he doesn’t understand how he can take a six-year-old on a motorcycle that God knows how fast it goes, but he does understand that “I have no choice, money doesn’t grows from trees and you have to settle for what you have.”
“ You’re not a mess. “ With a sympathetic tone, Remus approaches him. Sirius dares to look at him. He doesn’t comment on the aqueous glow they reflect. “ It’s not my job to hold you accountable, you do what you can, and sometimes there’s no choice.”
“ But you’re right, a child shouldn’t ride on a motorcycle. “ Sirius twists his hair, and Remus stays where he is, feeling a stranger invading someone’s life. Well, that’s almost what’s happening . “ Well, all right. I’ll figure it out, Harry won’t get on the bike again. “ Sirius stood up.
“ That’s not… “
“ No, you’re right. It’s dangerous and my duty is to take care of him “ He knows he doesn’t say it with resentment or malice, but Remus can’t help it but feel guilty. Their eyes connect. “ I’ll manage. “
Remus sighs.
“ If you have no choice... go carefully, okay ?” Sirius gives him a small smile.
“ Always. “ And he passes by his side, returning to his task of cleaning. Remus soon imitates his action.
“ By the way, “ And once the sofa is clean and green, Remus stops the task. “ What motorcycle is yours? I’ve seen your helmet, but not the beast. “ And like a father who has been allowed to show pictures of his amazing daughters to show them off, Sirius lights up like a light bulb while he pulls out his phone. Remus is tempted to watch the time, but decides not to do so knowing that it is too late and that doing so will only bring disgust.
“ It’s a beauty, let me show you.”
And for 15 minutes, Sirius does exactly that and Remus listens, because from the little he knows about motorcycles, he know that Sirius’s is a classic.
† † †
With the crap in the house, the weird thing was that Sirius didn’t get stained earlier.
“ I’m going to take a five-minute shower and we’re going, wait here. “
And without a chance to refuse, Sirius run and locked himself in the bathroom, the sound of the bathtub ringing in the distance.
He wants to go home.
He wants to go home right now, lie down in his bed and worry only about the classes he’s giving tomorrow.
He spent a few minutes snooping through the things Sirius was carrying to find the keys to his car, but at the second pocket he feels guilty and let’s it go.
He drops on the (now clean) sofa and realizes that he has judged it too soon. It’s pretty comfortable for how old it is.
To distract oneself, he takes the liberty of taking control of the TV and turning it on, finding cartoons placed. He doesn’t feel like zapping and just leaves it on.
The blame for Remus turning one with the sofa is on Sirius, who is taking longer than promised.
The fault of him sitting on it, is on the sofa. Nobody asked for it to be so damn comfortable.
The fault of him falling asleep in someone else’s house on a green sofa and under the sound of some meaningless cartoons is his heart. Nobody asked him to be so kind as to wait for Harry’s tutor with him.
† † †
Getting into tight black pants has been quite a challenge with the steam trapped in the bathroom and his body still wet from the rush, but Sirius has managed to cushion himself.
“ Sorry I’m late! “ Barefoot and his trousers unbuttoned, Sirius rushes out of the bathroom, slipping a random shirt as he walks down the hallway. “ I haven’t bathed in so long that I’ve lost track of time. “
But there’s no one to listen to his excuses.
Well, nobody that’s aware.
Shifting his t-shirt with less haste, Sirius steps on the cold floor to the front of the sofa, where he finds Remus leaning on his own arms and eyes closed, his dark hair falling over his face with thin bangs.
Sirius turns to the TV, finds Pingu ruining everyone’s day with his woot-woots and his mouth twists upwards. Turning to Remus, he stops at a cautious distance, watching his godson’s teacher sleep soundly on the sofa of his disastrous apartment.
The annoying penguin shades his face with a variety of different colors, and he seems so calm that Sirius doesn’t have the heart to wake him up. Thanks to the clock on his wrist, he manages to read twelve to twenty by twirling his neck like an owl. Seeing how late it is, he decides that it’s not even worth it anymore. He assumes that if Remus hasn’t mentioned it so far, no one should be waiting at home for him.
Calmly and stealthily he walks to his room, grabs a cushion and one of the blankets that covers his bed. He walks back into the dining room with his belt buckle causing a scandal and covers Remus with the blanket, the pillow close enough for him to hug it in his dreams. Then he sits on the floor, at the teacher’s feet, with his eyes fixed on the TV.
He feels a little guilty about dragging Remus into all this, but at the same time he is happy to talk to someone his age, who seems to have quite decent values and who cares about Harry a lot more than he should with a day of having him.
When the TV jumps into commercials, he turns to look at the man on the sofa.
He’s curious about those scars, as out of place as that thought may seem, but he’s not going to ask either.
If he is being honest, when he met him today he felt a little intimidated, either because of the roughness of the scars or the protective attitude he used when Remus thought he was a pervert. But that fear has lasted a short time when he started talking about other things, or when he smiled for the first time.
“ Relationships between parents and teachers are permitted, as long as they do not cause problems “
That phrase has been ringing in his head ever since Remus told him.
It has no reason to be, he tries to convince himself, to think like that is stupid when the odds of becoming something are less to zero.
If he didn’t have Harry, maybe things would be different.
Perhaps there would be a small chance (that’s in case a. Remus is even attracted to men and b. He even has a minimum interest in someone like him) that... something would happen.
But he has Harry, and Harry is a very big responsibility that doesn’t leave place for relationships and that doesn’t encourage anyone to engage in such commitment. And let’s not even talk about the fact that he’s Harry’s teacher, whether he’s allowed or not. That doesn’t make it less weird for the kid.
Sirius starts twisting his hair.
It’s best to forget about this impossible fantasy right now and accept that Remus is nothing more than that, Harry’s teacher . A friend, at best.
He looks at him one last time, his eyes scanning every corner of his face.
A friend, that’s it.
And he stands up.