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A young man stood in front of a moderately sized brick building, the sounds of London around him. Head tilted down, avoiding the eyes of passersby, the man hiked his messenger bag higher up his shoulder, cracked his knuckles against his thighs, and pulled open the door to the building. Suffice to say, Remus Lupin did not want to be attending support group.
Entering the community center, he repeated the room number in his head as he passed through the hallways. Already he was mentally preparing himself for the absolute disaster he was about to face. Remus and confronting feelings do not mix well.
He found the room and stepped inside. It was devoid of people and about a dozen chairs were organized in a circle. He intentionally arrived earlier than necessary to avoid the risk of being late and having to walk in and have everyone’s eyes on him. Taking a seat, Remus pulled a book out of his bag.
If you asked his dad, you’d learn that Remus was a master at defense mechanisms. Sticking his nose in a book to avoid social situations, for example. Or maybe you’d learn that Remus was kidnapped at 5 years old and had suffered from a range of mental illnesses since. Apparently, patient confidentiality doesn’t extend to his son. Although, Remus wasn’t technically his father’s patient. Attending group was meant to be a compromise, Remus didn’t have to attend therapy as long as he talked to someone. He refused to talk to his dad and it was not like he had any friends to talk to. Hence why he was being forced to subject himself to openly talking about his problems and his feelings in a group setting.
Remus was distracted from his book by someone clumsily sitting down next to him. He hadn’t even realized people had started to fill the room. Looking up, that was when he noticed that that was because people hadn’t started to fill the room. The only other person was the man now sitting next to him. He had shoulder-length black hair and was made up of sharp edges. He exuded a strong amount of confidence, especially for someone in group therapy. Maybe he’s a narcissist, Remus thought. He didn’t know why this other guy chose to sit next to him when literally every other chair was available. Clearly being occupied with reading didn’t seem to work to deter this boy from a conversation because he started to talk to Remus.
“Hey, I’m Sirius,” the man said. He stuck out a hand, long fingers adorned with black nail polish and what looked like paw print tattoos on each finger.
Remus cleared his throat and let out a “hello.” He kept his eyes locked on the page in his book, ignoring the man's hand.
“What are you doing?” he asked back, clearly choosing to ignore the fact that Remus did not want to be talking to him.
“Well, I was reading.” He closed the book in his lap to further his point, even though it made him lose his page. He just wanted to be petty.
“Good book?” Sirius questioned. Remus knew that the other man didn’t actually care and was just making conversation. He wished that he wouldn’t. Staring straight ahead in hopes of getting Sirius to leave him alone he simply hummed in response.
Their one-sided conversation was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Both men looked over to see a very old man enter the room. He had a long white beard, giving the impression of a wise wizard from a fantasy novel. He didn’t address either boy, instead situating himself in the circle and pulling out a clipboard.
Sirius leaned over to Remus, his lips centimeters away from Remus’ ear. Remus could feel his heart rate increase, he just hoped Sirius couldn’t feel it too. “That’s good ole Dumbledore,” he whispered as to not be overheard by the elderly man. “I’ve heard a great deal about him. A little oblivious I’ve learned.”
Remus didn’t know what Sirius was getting at. Or why he insisted on being so close.
Apparently taking no response to mean he should go on, Sirius continued. “I’ll make you a bet. Let’s see who can make up the most outlandish story without him realizing it. If I win, I get to take you out on a date.”
Remus couldn’t help but turn to face Sirius. Not his best idea. Their noses were now a mere centimeters apart. Remus cleared his throat and backed up in his chair. He could feel the heat rising to his face, his pulse echoing in his head. There was no plausible explanation as to why such a gorgeous man would ask him out. Especially in support group of all places. Maybe he was being pranked.
The best Remus could do was utter an unintelligent “What?”
“You heard me,” he said resolutely. Sirius looked straight ahead at Dumbledore and gestured at him with a nod of his head. “If I can come up with a better story than you, I get to take you out.”
Regaining a bit of composure Remus responded, “Sounds a bit like coercion.” Sirius looked back at him but said nothing. Remus continued. “What about if I win?”
“Then I’ll leave you alone, you can go back to that book of yours.” His lips turned up in a cheeky grin. “Unless you’d rather I didn’t,” he proposed.
“Do you do this to all the boys in group?” Remus asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. He hoped he looked nonchalant and not like an idiot.
“No,” he said, without any further explanation.
“Okay,” Remus replied. He decided that he would rather have fun than actually share a part of him with a group of strangers.
“Okay?” questioned Sirius, not sure if his proposal was being accepted.
“Yeah, okay” he clarified.
Neither man said anything after that. The room had started filling up as they were talking and Dumbledore began the session. Remus was not focusing on anything that was happening. He felt nervous and insecure. Why had he agreed to this? He cracked his knuckles together and pushed against each finger until they popped.
“Quit it,” Sirius muttered under his breath, “unless you plan on telling everyone you have arthritis.”
“Oh I’m sorry, am I distracting you from this riveting event?” Remus quipped back. Sarcasm was another of his famed defense mechanisms. Before Sirius could even think about responding, a new voice cut into their conversation.
“Do either of you boys have anything to add?” Dumbledore asked, gazing at them behind his half-moon glasses. He didn’t seem mad, not like a scolding school teacher, but calm and attentive. Either way Remus again felt embarrassed, he could feel the eyes of everyone in the circle looking at him. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to talk in front of these people, telling a ridiculous story that was sure to get him called out by someone. Luckily, Sirius saved him from speaking. He dramatically stood up and addressed the group.
“Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me. That I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed.” Remus rolled his eyes and shook his head. Why was he not surprised? He watched the expressions of the people around him. Some of the younger attendees were hiding smiles while others, like Dumbledore, watched Sirius’ performance expectantly.
He continued, “Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming. Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running. Didn't make sense not to live for fun. Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb. So much to do, so much to see. So what's wrong with taking the backstreets? You'll never know if you don't go. You'll never shine if you don't glow,” Sirius paused, “Hey now, you’re an all star.” He ended with a wink and a single finger gun and sat back down in his seat.
“Very inspiring words,” Dumbledore said. “It is almost as if Smash Mouth themselves were here in this very room.” The man held his neutral expression, the same couldn't be said for Sirius. His previously haughty expression was replaced with disbelief. His lips were slightly parted and he looked back and forth between Remus and Dumbledore as if to say, “can you believe this?”
The session progressed and Remus still hadn’t spoken, whether to try and beat Sirius or actually talk about himself. He didn’t think he could force himself to. The words were there in the back of his throat but he couldn’t make them into a sound.
Eventually, Dumbledore announced that the session was over and got up from his chair. The people around him started to pick up their things and leave. Remus refused to look at Sirius. He felt oddly ashamed to not have competed with Sirius. It wasn’t like he’d see him again, there was no way he would attend group again. He couldn’t even make up a story to share, no way would he ever be able to actually share with the group. It was fruitless, his deal with his father be damned.
Remus picked up his bag and stood up to leave, prepared to keep his head down and ignore the hustling around him. A hand grabbed his arm to stop him. He looked over his shoulder to see Sirius standing expectantly behind him, hand still gripping Remus’ arm.
“So it looks like we both lost,” he stated.
“I- yeah I guess so,” replied Remus.
“Guess that means I can’t take you out,” Sirius said, eyebrows raised in question. Remus had completely forgotten that was a part of their bet.
“What’s stopping you?” Remus asked. Sirius blinked at him, as if not expecting that to be his response. Granted, Remus didn't even expect that to be his response. He didn’t know where this confidence was coming from all of a sudden.
“I guess nothing,” he paused, “Will you, Moony Booknerd-”
“That is not my name,” Remus interrupted.
Sirius hushed him and started again, “Will you, Moony Booknerd, do me the pleasure of accompanying me for a night out under the premise of a date?”
Remus fake pondered for a moment. “No,” he declared. Sirius met his response with a deadpan look.
“I’m kidding,” Remus clarified.
Sirius smiled wide at him and asked, “Think you can tell me your name now?”
“Nah. I like to keep you guessing,” he said. Noticing that, once again, they were the only two left in the room, Remus headed for the door. Sirius trailed behind and let out an exasperated sigh.
“Well then Moony, it’s a good thing that I like the dark and mysterious type,” Sirius replied with a smirk. Remus barked out a laugh but said nothing. The two continued walking in silence, side by side, through the community center. The sounds of their footfalls echoed around the otherwise silent hallways. When they reached the entrance to the building, the pair stopped in front of the door.
Remus turned to face Sirius. “Aren’t you going to ask for my number?” he questioned.
“That’s not very mysterious, Moony. I thought I’d have to scour the phone book for a ‘Moony Booknerd.’”
“A phone book? Maybe if we were a couple decades older,” Remus scoffed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile, handing it to Sirius. The other man accepted it and typed in his own number, handing it back.
“I guess I’ll see you around then,” Sirius said. He went up on his tiptoes and kissed Remus’ cheek. Remus felt the blush that quickly spread throughout his body and he resisted the urge to touch the spot where Sirius’ lips touched his skin. Sirius smirked at him, gave a salute and left the building.
Remus stood shell shocked for what must have been minutes. He only regained his bearings when his phone, which had at some point made its way back into his pocket, vibrated against his leg. He pulled it out to see a text from “Sirius <3” which read “made u blush.”
Remus rolled his eyes and exited the community center. Maybe support group wasn’t so bad.