(8:34) Beep beep, motherfucker!
(8:34) Get your arse out here!
(8:35) Hey! Give me a bit!
(8:35) Stop honking!
(8:36) It’s Wormtail. He had chocolate for breakfast, so now he’s on a sugar high.
(8:37) Damn it, Wormtail, you’ve been told!
(8:38) I scolded him for you. Those two aggressive beeps were his response.
(8:38) I’ll be two seconds, just calm down.
(8:39) Come on, Moony! Beep beep! Let’s go be Adults!
(8:39) Don’t use the A word.
(8:40) Then get a move on. How much stuff do you have?
(8:40) Gotta pack my emotional baggage. Now stop texting.
Remus looked around his empty room with a heavy sigh.
He didn’t feel anxious, not how he expected to be. He already had a feeling of homesickness, even if all of his belongings were right in front of him in bags and boxes, and his mother and father stood at the door watching him. Remus imagined that they felt worse, their only, and chronically ill, child leaving the house at just age eighteen.
Sometimes Remus wondered what kind of madness possessed him to do such a thing, but other times he heard Sirius talk on and on about what they would do in their share house, and Remus felt excited again.
“It’s alright if you change your mind,” his mother said gently. “You know Sirius and the boys will understand.”
Remus nodded silently, still looking around his old – was it old yet? – bedroom.
A buzzing came from his pocket.
(8:45) Get in loser, we’re going University-ing.
He smiled, about to reply when another message came through.
(8:45) Have your parents held you captive? It’s ok, we’ve already dealt with the Potters. We’re experts at this now.
Remus took a deep breath, then collected the bags in front of him, and asked his parents if they could take the boxes.
He wasn’t going to back out of it now.
Sirius was sick of the Beatles.
“Don’t you have any other artists on your phone?” he asked Peter, who was looking very constipated in the driver’s seat.
“I’ve got Rolling Stones,” he said. “I’ve also got ‘Sirius Can Fuck Off With That Face of His’.”
“And what face is that?” Sirius asked innocently, still scrolling through Peter’s phone in a desperate attempt to magically conjure up some decent music.
“The face that says everyone around you are idiots and have no taste,” Remus piped up from the backseat, bordered by bags and boxes of belongings.
Peter made eye contact with him in the rearview mirror and gave him a thumbs up.
“James would agree with me,” Sirius said petulantly. “I’ll ask him later.”
Peter slowed the car practically to a stop to turn the next corner, all three of them keeping silent as he edged the car around. He let out an audible sigh of relief when they made it, car and passengers all in tact.
“When’s he finishing with Lily’s stuff?” Peter asked once he was sure they weren’t going to get into an accident.
“He said about midday.” Sirius shrugged, then turned in the passenger seat to look at Remus. “Heard from Alice? How’s she settling in?”
“Fine,” Remus said. “She’s already getting along with her dorm mate. Emmaline. Alice says she misses having close female friends.”
Sirius nodded. “Bring her to Lily’s house warming tonight. She can meet the girls.”
Peter looked panicked. “Is that really a good idea? Alice seems like a nice, straight laced girl. No mischief.”
“Peter, when did you become such a stick in the mud?” Remus asked. He tapped Peter on the head, causing him to jump in his seat and swerve the car slightly.
“Am not!” he protested. “I’m just remembering graduation!”
“Oh, I did tell Alice about that. She thought burning ‘Class of 2014’ into the school oval was a great idea.”
Peter sighed in defeat.
“Graduation was cool,” Sirius added. “Just because you nearly caught on fire doesn’t mean it was bad for the rest of us.”
Remus hummed. “Well, that would put a damper on things.”
Sirius was about to go for another round of making fun of Peter when his phone chimed in his hand.
(9:34) Hey, nearly done with Lily. Didn’t take as long as we expected. You got Moony?
(9:34) Yeah, we got him. We’re about half an hour away.
(9:35) Cool. See you soon, housemate.
(9:36) Yeah, see you soon, loser.
He’d been living with James and Peter longer than he had been living with his brother by this point, but the feeling of having a place of their own filled Sirius with excitement.
Looking over his shoulder he watched Remus patiently reading GPS directions to a very frazzled Peter, a fist of apprehension clutching his heart through the excitement. He’s never lived with Remus before, so far had only spent one night over his house when they accidentally came back from an outing a bit too late. Remus had stayed at the Potter’s a few times, but with James there, it didn’t quite feel the same.
Even with them sharing the house with James and Peter, something about living with Remus without any adults – real adults – made Sirius tight with fear.
(9:44) Stop freaking out, I can see it in your face.
(9:44) You’re meant to be reading directions.
(9:45) Peter thinks he knows where he’s going now.
(9:45) I don’t trust him.
(9:45) I don’t care. Stop avoiding my call out.
(9:46) I leave clothes all over the floor. Even in the kitchen.
(9:47) I know.
(9:47) And sometimes I snore.
(9:47) I know. But I’m the king of snoring.
(9:47) Are you sure about this?
(9:48) Yes, I am. Are you?
(9:48) Yes. Don’t leave.
(9:49) I’m not going to. Not even after living with you for a while.
(9:49) Want to know a secret?
(9:51) If it was ok with you, I wasn’t really on planning to use my room.
(9:51) That’s 1000% fine with me.
(9:52) Good. Now please play something that was at least made in the 21st century.
(9:52) Believe me, I’m trying.
James was there before them, Lily’s place not so far from their own, and greeted them by throwing open the front door in nothing but his underwear and a blanket tied around his neck like a cape, shouting that the Marauder House was in business.
“I see that business isn’t in fashion retail,” Remus said and James scoffed at him.
“There is no use for pants in the house,” James proclaimed. “It’s the first rule on the Declaration of the Marauder House.”
“Rule number two,” Peter said quickly, “No fire!”
James came out to the car to help them unload the car, his things already thrown haphazardly into his assigned room. A box labeled ‘kitchen’ already sat on the open dining room table, courtesy of Mrs Potter, but a list on the second-hand fridge, courtesy of Mr Pettigrew, told them they still needed bathroom things. A fish bowl sat on the kitchen bench, the black fish inside swimming around happily.
“Rule number three,” James said from some room beyond, “Sirius showers last.”
“Aw, come on,” Sirius whined from somewhere else. “Fine, rule number four: James can’t wear my shirts anymore.”
“Yeah,” Remus shouted from the living room. “Those are mine now!”
There was a loud bang, like something was dropped onto the floorboards, Peter’s tiny voice cursing from the smallest bedroom.
“What am I supposed to wear, then?” James asked when he emerged from his bedroom.
“What you’ve got on now is fine,” Remus told him. “Rule number five: no one is allowed to catch a cold.”
James nodded. “My immune system is too strong, anyway. No problem.”
“Rub salt into my wounds, why don’t you,” Remus teased.
James had hired a truck the day before so they could transport all of their furniture, so there wasn’t much to be done besides each of their rooms and the kitchen. They pooled whatever money they currently had on them to buy food for the day, and some towels at Sirius’ insistence, and by the late afternoon James and Peter were out buying groceries while Sirius and Remus finished up in the kitchen.
“I like Mrs Potter’s confidence in us to eat a vegetable,” Sirius said, holding up a potato peeler.
“I like her confidence in us to live alone at all,” Remus said quite honestly.
Sirius threw the potato peeler into the second drawer, thus far labeled with a sticky note as the ‘don’t know where else it would go’ drawer, and drew nearer to where Remus was working on the ceramic plates.
“Don’t tickle me,” Remus warned as he put in a stack of plates.
“I would never,” he even said as he wrapped his arms around Remus’ waist.
Remus snorted. “You would so.”
“You nearly done?” Sirius pressed his cold nose into the crook of Remus’ neck, making him squirm and nearly drop a bowl.
“Good. We need to christen the bed.”
“I hope by that you mean we need to sleep in it.”
“Duh,” Sirius sighed. “I was awake at seven this morning. I never want to do that again.”
“Remember when you were in boarding school?” Remus said.
“I only remember the things that happened after ten in the morning. Now come on, you’re taking too long.” Sirius started tugging on Remus’ jumper, slowly pulling him backwards into the room originally pegged to be Sirius’. Remus’ clothes were packed away in the room over, but his books were on the bookshelf next to Sirius’ books, and his telescope sat in the corner of the room next to Sirius’ latest building project, which Remus still didn’t know the function of.
Sirius collapsed on the roughly made bed, rolling over to one side to let Remus slide on. Remus crawled in close, head on Sirius’ chest as he instantly felt the pull of sleep try to drag him.
“This was a good idea,” Remus said sleepily, feeling those hooks of unconsciousness deepen as Sirius ran his hand through his hair.
“T’was,” Sirius agreed, sounding just as tired. “I had a lot of good ideas this year.”
“So did I, I think.”
“Tell me one.”
Remus lifted his head to kiss the exposed skin above Sirius’ shirt neck, pulling himself to practically lie on top of Sirius and continue to kiss his throat.
“Loving you was a good idea,” Remus said. He didn’t feel as scared as he thought he should, saying that for the first time, but instead felt a rush of new adrenaline.
He felt that spike again when Sirius whispered, “I love you too,” before his body crashed and he fell asleep, Sirius joining him seconds after.
(10:30) How much do you reckon James will kill me for flooding his bedroom?