Work Text:
May 22
Remus (22:45):
Hey, Lils. You won’t believe the day I’ve had. Just poured boiling water on my hand instead of into the tea (thanks, absent-mindedness), then spent half an hour looking for my glasses—which were on my forehead. How’s your project going? Hope you’ve had fewer epic fails.
Sirius (22:48):
Lols, this is not Lils. But now I’m living for the fact that someone’s glasses were on their forehead. Do you often text the wrong people? (And, more importantly, why don’t I have someone in my contacts who brews tea with their bare hands? Genius.)
Remus (23:00):
…Oh god. I really did send this to the wrong person. Lils is gonna laugh at me for three hours when she finds out. Sorry for the intrusion, I’ll… try to vanish this message with magic. (Kidding. Alas, I’m just a mortal with wounded pride.)
Sirius (23:02):
Appreciate the magic attempt. But you know what’s also magical? The fact that you didn’t ask “who is this?” and went straight to damage control. Chaos must be your default. Is Lils your… girlfriend? Sister? Accomplice in teapot-related crimes?
Remus (23:05):
Friend. And “accomplice” is accurate. She’s the only one who gets my nonsense after three sleepless nights. And now, apparently, so do you. What a horror.
Sirius (23:07):
“Horror” is when your ex calls you at 3 AM because he “forgot what a toaster looks like.” At least you’re adorably bad with numbers.
Remus (23:12):
…I have a question. If I say “alright, sorry for bothering you, goodnight,” will you respect my decision or launch into a lecture on the social contracts of strangers?
Sirius (23:15):
Depends. If you say “goodnight,” I’ll assume you’re going to sleep. If not—then you, like me, suffer from chronic “gotta check the fridge at midnight” syndrome.
Remus (23:18):
…Damn. You got me. Just checked. It’s empty except for a jar of olives from 2018.
Sirius (23:20):
Ah, a classic. Mine has half a lemon and a bottle of ketchup. Bartender’s dinner.
May 23
Remus (00:03):
Why are you still awake? Besides the obvious (ketchup is tragic).
Sirius (00:05):
Working night shifts at a bar. My circadian rhythm is permanently broken. You?
Remus (00:08):
Writing. Or, supposed to be writing. Instead, I’ve spent the last five hours googling “how to survive procrastination” and watching toaster repair videos.
Sirius (00:10):
Hey, if you fix that toaster—bring it to my bar. Ours nearly burned the place down last week.
Remus (00:13):
…Did you just seriously propose a toaster-themed date?
Sirius (00:15):
No. I proposed you save my job. There’s a difference.
Remus (00:20):
Alright, I really gotta go. Deadline’s tomorrow (well, technically today), and I haven’t even started. Thanks for the nice chat and… uh, moral support in my tea-related crisis.
Sirius (00:22):
Goodnight, Four-Eyes. If you see a toaster in your dreams—say hi.
May 25
Sirius (2:18):
You asleep?
Remus (2:22):
…I should be. But my brain decided 2:22 AM is the perfect time to remember how I face-planted into a cake at a school concert in fifth grade.
You?
Sirius (2:25):
Can’t shut down after my shift. Just spent half an hour staring at the ceiling wondering why it’s "pineapple" in English and not "applepine." Decided to ask the one person who might also be awake at this ungodly hour.
Remus (2:28):
"Applepine" sounds like back-alley moonshine cider. And now I’ll see it every time I’m at the grocery store. Thanks for that.
Sirius (2:30):
Oh, so you’ll be thinking of me in the supermarket? Progress.
Remus (2:33):
…I changed my mind. Goodnight.
Sirius (2:35):
Sweet dreams. May your sleep be full of applepines and zero-gravity cakes.
May 27
Sirius (2:18):
You asleep?
Remus (2:22):
…You’re getting scarily good at predicting my nocturnal habits. I’ve practically memorized your schedule: shift till 2 AM, three hours of pacing the apartment, then sleep.
Sirius (2:25):
Oho, I’ve been exposed. Tonight’s extra rough—upstairs neighbor’s been dropping something heavy for two hours straight. Either renovating or hiding a body.
Remus (2:28):
If it’s a body, let’s not get involved. I’ve got enough skeletons in my own closet.
Sirius (2:30):
Oh, now I have to ask: what’s the dumbest skeleton in there?
Remus (2:35):
At 14, I wrote a 300-page fantasy novel about a vegan vampire. Mom still keeps a printout “for emergencies.”
Remus (2:36):
…Why did I admit that. Goodnight.
Sirius (2:38):
Wait! That’s brilliant. My skeleton: same age, dyed my hair ginger and went to school like that for a week before they forced me to change it.
Remus (2:45):
(Read)
May 28
Sirius (1:47):
Admit it—you’re deliberately awake at this hour to keep our tradition alive, aren’t you?
Remus (1:52):
Caught me red-handed. I even set an alarm. "1:30 AM — time for cryptic confessions from the bartender."
Sirius (1:55):
Then by tradition: today I learned our regular used to be a circus acrobat. Every time he talks about it, I’m terrified he’ll handstand on the bar.
Remus (1:58):
...I once interviewed a former lion tamer. He said humans are more dangerous than beasts.
Sirius (2:01):
That sounds like the opening line of your next novel. Or... are you trying to tell me something?
Remus (2:05):
I just... sometimes write about what scares me. To make it less frightening.
Sirius (2:07):
What do you fear, then?
Remus (2:15):
...Sorry, I really need to sleep.
Sirius (9:15):
Hey, sorry about last night. Shouldn’t have pushed like that.
Remus (23:47):
I’m the one who should apologize. You didn’t ask anything wrong—I started it, then chickened out. Paradox: it’s easier to write fiction for thousands than to say one real thing to a single person.
Sirius (23:49):
So I’m your "single person"? Careful with the compliments, I might blush.
Remus (23:52):
Shut up. I’m serious. Maybe that’s the point—we’ll never meet. Can say anything without consequences.
Sirius (23:55):
Okay, Stranger. By the rules then: today I feared my bar might close. Put 3 years into that place, and now they’re raising the rent.
Remus (23:58):
...I dream that I’ll never write anything worthwhile. That all these words are just dust.
May 29
Sirius (00:01):
Hey. If it’s dust—why can I taste it on my lips right now?
Remus (00:04):
...We agreed on anonymous therapy, not poetry.
Sirius (00:06):
Comes bundled in my service plan.
May 30
Sirius (00:12):
Today’s fear? Mine’s that I’ll remember every cocktail recipe but forget my own name.
Remus (00:18):
That all my writing’s just random words. What if I can’t actually write at all?
May 31
Remus (14:35):
Just saw a person eating a banana with the peel. There goes my daily existential crisis.
Sirius (14:40):
That'd be a lifetime ban in my bar.
June 1
Remus (09:02):
Spilled coffee on my keyboard. Now the "E" key only works when it feels like it.
Sirius (09:05):
Come to my bar - we've got a typewriter for ~ambiance~.
June 3
Sirius (23:45):
Today a customer said I'm "too handsome to be a bartender." What does that even mean?
Remus (23:50):
Means they have bad taste. You're clearly "too sarcastic."
June 5
Sirius (19:30):
Ever noticed how the word "loneliness" is too long for what it represents?
Remus (19:35):
...Are you drunk?
June 6
Remus (16:47):
Got new glasses. Now the world's in HD.
Sirius (16:50):
Prove it. Send a selfie.
Remus (16:52):
Breaking the rules now?
June 7
Sirius (02:10):
Just pictured you blushing while texting. Am I right?
Remus (02:12):
Shut up.
June 8
Remus (12:15):
Lils asked who I've been texting so much.
Sirius (12:17):
Tell her it's your imaginary friend.
June 9
Sirius (00:05):
Thinking about what I'd say to you if we met.
Remus (00:08):
...
June 10
Remus (22:40):
Full moon tonight. I always... sleep poorly on these nights.
Sirius (22:42):
I'm here.
June 11
Sirius (15:20):
Do you ever drink? Come to the bar tonight. Anonymously.
Remus (15:25):
...That would break everything.
June 15
Remus (3:47 AM):
Lily set me up on a date. Well, she said "he's perfect for you," and like an idiot, I believed her. Showed up at this damn restaurant, and this... this jerk's first question was how much I earn. Then he said fantasy writing is "not a real job" and that "at your age you should get proper employment." I sat there staring at his polished shoes thinking - Christ, is this really how I look from the outside? Some pathetic scribbler afraid of his own shadow?
Sirius (3:52 AM):
Hey. First off, your Lily's an idiot (said with love). Second, that moron doesn't even deserve your anger. You know what I see from the outside? Someone who turns fear into words. Who even now, dead drunk, writes so sharply it hurts me for that stranger's sake.
Remus (3:55 AM):
You're flattering me.
Sirius (3:56 AM):
No. If I were taking you on a date - we wouldn't even enter a restaurant. I'd take your hand (yes, immediately, don't care) and lead you to the embankment. Buy two glasses of the cheapest wine from a kiosk - because it all tastes like metallic piss anyway, but we wouldn't care.
Remus (3:59 AM):
...And then what?
Sirius (4:02 AM):
Then? We'd sit on cold concrete, and I'd make you read me the most embarrassing passage from your vegan vampire novel. Because laughter's the only thing that really erases fear. And when you'd get mad ("it's not funny!"), I'd suddenly turn serious and say: "You write living things. And if someone can't see that - they're just blind."
Remus (4:05 AM):
...Damn.
Sirius (4:06 AM):
Oh, and I'd kiss you. Not at the end - too cliché. Somewhere in the middle, when you'd start arguing that "no one ever gets your metaphors." Just to shut you up (and because I've wanted to).
Remus (4:09 AM):
You... You've crossed every line.
Sirius (4:10 AM):
I know. Sorry. But I won't take it back.
Remus (4:15 AM):
I don't want your pity. Or... or these fantasies. You don't know me. Don't know how I look when angry, or how I mumble in my sleep, or...
Sirius (4:18 AM):
But I do know you wrinkle your nose when lying. That you take tea with five sugars. That you're scared of dogs but would never admit it. And yes - that you're blushing furiously right now.
Remus (4:20 AM):
I hate you.
Sirius (4:21 AM):
Liar.
Remus (4:30 AM):
...Goodnight, Sirius.
Sirius (4:31 AM):
Sleep, Four-Eyes. May you dream of our unconsummated date.
June 16
Sirius (13:42):
Did you survive our night session? Admit it, you reread my messages and made that displeased face.
Remus (13:50):
I deleted the chat history. Without looking.
June 17
Remus (02:08):
Are you asleep?
Sirius (02:09):
Not anymore.
Remus (02:11):
...Never mind. Doesn't matter.
Sirius (02:12):
Hey!
Remus (02:15):
I dreamed you disappeared.
June 18
Sirius (20:17):
Some guy at the bar today ordered "something pretty." I gave him water with food coloring. Reminds me of someone.
Remus (20:23):
I was never that insufferable.
Sirius (20:25):
But you're the only one I'd serve a real drink to.
June 19
Remus (15:33):
Lily asked why I've been smiling at my phone more.
Sirius (15:35):
Tell her you got a secret lover.
Remus (15:36):
Stop it.
Sirius (15:37):
You just blushed. Again.
June 20
Sirius (00:01):
If we had a date—where would you take me?
Remus (00:15):
...To a library.
Sirius (00:16):
Most boring romance ever. I love it.
June 21
Remus (03:22):
I should stop texting you at night.
Sirius (03:23):
But you won't.
Remus (03:25):
No.
June 22
Sirius (18:40):
Just pictured you reading something pretentious and boring aloud, while I watch you frown at complicated words.
Remus (18:45):
That's not a date.
Sirius (18:46):
Then what is it?
Remus (18:50):
...I don't know.
June 24
Sirius (23:50):
Full moon tonight. You okay?
Remus (23:55):
Yes. Thanks for remembering.
June 25
Remus (14:10):
I started a new story. Main character's a bartender with a ridiculous name.
Sirius (14:12):
Is he at least handsome?
Remus (14:13):
Unbearably so.
June 26
Sirius (01:00):
I'm outside your house. Kidding. Or am I?
Remus (01:02):
You're an idiot.
Sirius (01:03):
But yours.
June 27
Remus (22:37):
I don't want to pretend we're strangers anymore.
Sirius (22:39):
...
Remus (22:45):
Forget it.
Sirius (22:46):
Can't.
June 28
Remus (19:08):
Lily’s meddling in my personal life again. Set up a double date—me and her, plus some "amazing friend" of hers. Didn’t even ask if I wanted to.
Sirius (19:12):
"Amazing friend," huh? I wonder just how amazing he is on a scale from 1 to one anonymous bartender.
Remus (19:15):
Are you jealous?
Sirius (19:16):
Absolutely. Picturing you sitting there, squinting in those ridiculous glasses, listening to his tales about a "successful organic soap business."
Remus (19:20):
...That’s terrifyingly accurate to my last date.
Sirius (19:22):
Well, now I’m genuinely jealous. Though, since we’re on the subject… My idiot James is dragging me to a double date tomorrow too. Says, "This couple is perfect, you won’t regret it."
Remus (19:25):
...What?
Sirius (19:26):
What "what"?
Remus (19:28):
You. A date. With someone.
Sirius (19:30):
Yep. And now you’re jealous.
Remus (19:32):
Don’t make me laugh.........
Sirius (19:33):
You just sent nine dots instead of three. You’re furious.
Remus (19:35):
I’m not furious. I just… wonder who this person is, sitting across from you, listening to your ridiculous jokes.
Sirius (19:37):
Oh, so that’s how this feels? "Who’s this amazing stranger watching the bartender fall off a table?"
Remus (19:40):
You’re insufferable.
Sirius (19:41):
But yours.
Remus (19:45):
...When’s your date?
Sirius (19:46):
Tomorrow at seven. Yours?
Remus (19:48):
Tomorrow. Seven.
Sirius (19:50):
...Hey, what if—
Remus (19:51):
Don’t say it.
Sirius (19:52):
But you thought it too.
Remus (19:55):
Maybe.
June 29
Remus (18:55):
Lily’s already here, and those two are late. What a surprise.
Remus (19:02):
I changed my mind. This is idiotic. Maybe I should just bolt?
Remus (19:15):
Hey, don’t get jealous… but I’m currently looking at the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen.
Remus (19:16):
Dark hair to his shoulders, gray eyes, wearing a black shirt with the top button undone… and he’s smiling like he knows something the rest of us don’t.
Remus (19:20):
I’ve had wine. A lot of it. Now I’m pretty sure if I stand up, I’ll either fall over. Or do something stupid.
Remus (19:22):
Oh, and I think that’s his friend—some scruffy idiot in glasses currently laughing way too loud at something… You’d like him.
Remus (19:25):
God, who am I kidding? A guy like that wouldn’t even glance my way.
Remus (19:28):
Hey, Sirius, why aren’t you answering? Guess your date’s going much better than mine…
At that moment, the beautiful stranger pulls his phone from his pocket. Unlocks the screen. His lips curve into a smile as he reads something on the display. Then he looks up—directly at Remus. His gaze is sharp, studying, faintly amused. He glances back at his phone, fingers typing rapidly…
A notification pops up on Remus’s screen:
Sirius (19:30):
You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.
Remus freezes. Slowly lifts his eyes.
The stranger is watching him across the terrace. A dazzling grin, a predator’s gleam in his eyes, a finger raised to his lips—quiet, or maybe wait…
Lily suddenly claps Remus on the shoulder:
“Oh, there they are!”
James is already cackling, waving a wine bottle:
“Finally! I give them five minutes before they start making out.”
Remus doesn’t hear any of it. Just the ringing in his ears. Just Sirius, now walking toward him, triumphant and utterly unashamed.
Epilogue
A week later
Remus (02:17):
Are you asleep?
Sirius (02:18):
No. Lying here remembering how you blushed that day on the terrace.
Remus (02:20):
I hated you in that moment.
Sirius (02:21):
Liar. You wanted me.
Remus (02:23):
...Maybe.
Sirius (02:25):
You know what I thought when I first saw you?
Remus (02:27):
"Oh god, he's so nervous"?
Sirius (02:30):
"Finally."
Their Version of That Scene
Sirius:
He sat at the far end of the terrace, hunched like he wanted to disappear. Glasses sliding down his nose, fingers tapping nervously against his wineglass. My Remus.
I took out my phone, read his messages—one after another—and nearly laughed aloud. You're even more beautiful than I imagined.
When he looked up, I saw it flash in his eyes. Realization. Panic. Heat. Fear.
And then I knew: he wouldn’t run.
Remus:
I knew.
Before he even reached for his phone. Before his fingers typed a reply.
Because no one else had ever looked at me like that—like I was a puzzle he’d already solved.
Then the message came.
And the world tilted.
Final Scene:
"You knew?" Remus whispers as Sirius leans across the table.
"Knew what?"
"That it was me."
Sirius grins.
"Obviously."
"You’re a bastard."
"Your bastard."
James groans:
"Oh for fuck’s sake, just kiss already and let me drink in peace!"
Lily smacks his shoulder.
And Sirius kisses Remus—finally—to the sound of laughter and clinking glasses.
THE END.