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Benjy Fenwick was a terrible, shitty boyfriend.

A terrible, shitty boyfriend with an excellent mattress.

An excellent mattress that Sirius loved.

He never slept better than he did on Benjy’s mattress. During the first few months of their relationship, he thought it was Benjy, assumed the presence of the other man was what was helping him get the most amazing sleep of his life, all deep and peaceful and uninterrupted.

But then Benjy went on a work trip to Ontario and asked Sirius to stay in his apartment to plant-sit (whatever the fuck that is) and Sirius had agreed in an instant, figuring he already basically lived at Benjy’s apartment. He expected to have difficulty sleeping that night, all alone in Benjy's king-size bed.

He slept like a baby.

Or a black bear in hibernation.

He slept for fifteen hours straight. He’d never felt more well-rested in his life. He sort of assumed it was a fluke, expected to maybe have difficulty sleeping the next night, but no. Benjy was gone for a week and Sirius slept like a dream every single night.

When Benjy eventually came back, all clingy and needy, Sirius found the king bed far too small. He even slept at his own apartment for a couple nights, hoping distance would make his heart fonder.

He only missed the mattress.

He missed the mattress so much, he went back to Benjy’s after three nights on his own shitty mattress, willing to sacrifice his desire for space for his need of sleeping on a cloud.

He had secretly hoped that Benjy’s job would take him out of town for work again, and Benjy would let Sirius stay in his apartment and enjoy the wonderful king bed on his own again, but Benjy’s job hadn’t been the one to send him to Ontario in the first place.

That would be the work of his wife.

So, they broke up and Sirius never got to see that beauty of a mattress ever again.

To be fair, Sirius is pretty sure his relationship with Benjy lasted months longer than it should have purely because of his love for Benjy’s mattress. Sirius had sort of checked out of their three-year relationship about two and a half years into it, but Benjy’s mattress was insanely comfortable and Sirius has insane attachment issues.

Except when his boyfriend has a wife. His attachment issues tend to die under those circumstances.

His friends have all been incredibly supportive during his post-breakup-angst. Marlene and Dorcas bake him bread and muffins, Fabian offers to take him to a strip club when he’s ready, and Emmeline threatens to slash Benjy’s tires. He doesn’t have the heart to tell them he’s not really upset about the relationship ending.

Had barely even blinked when he picked up Benjy’s phone to see Clara was calling. Had barely even paused when he answered the call to tell her Benjy wasn’t able to come to the phone because he was in the shower. Had barely even stuttered when she asked who she was speaking to.

Sirius had quietly snuck out of the apartment and went home, blocking Benjy’s number while on the apartment elevator. As far as he knows, Benjy is undergoing couples therapy in Ontario and Sirius is back to spending nights at his own apartment with his own shitty mattress.

And that is what’s causing his post-breakup-angst.

His friends think he’s mourning the loss of his longest-standing relationship, bringing him food and alcohol and support, but Sirius is grieving the loss of the best mattress he’s ever slept on.

He had half a mind to unblock Benjy and ask him what the mattress was, but Marlene supposedly did him a kindness by deleting Benjy’s number from his phone. And Sirius never bothered to remember it.

Sirius has had back pain and pitiful sleep for the past two months. He tosses and turns all night, thinking about how much better his life would be if he had just read the stupid damn tag on Benjy’s mattress. He would be spending his three AMs in a deep slumber, floating on a fluffy cloud of comfort, instead of staring at his ceiling fan.

It’s having an effect on his appearance. He assumed, like everyone else, it was the breakup at first, causing the dark circles under his eyes and the tangled hair, but it’s been two months and Sirius is doing just fine, emotionally.

He's decided it has to be the mattress. He’s well and over the breakup, was honestly over it the minute he blocked Benjy and cried himself to sleep on his shitty mattress, but he still looks like a mess. Of course, his version of a mess is still better than many people's best, but Sirius isn’t used to gasping every time he looks in a mirror in the mornings.

His hair was smoother, silkier, shinier, when he slept on Benjy’s mattress. His skin clearer, plumper, and brighter. His posture better. His attitude nicer, his jokes funnier, his mind wiser.

All because of the mattress.

Marlene has been hounding him to get out and meet someone new, inviting him to every gay bar in a fifty-mile radius of his apartment. But Sirius doesn’t want to go to a gay bar.

He wants to go to a mattress store.

He can’t possibly get into a new relationship when he’s practically sleeping on cardboard. How can he invite a man back to his place when he’s got cement for a bed?

Sirius is far too confident to think that he needs to improve himself or learn to love himself or whatever before getting into his next relationship, but he knows he needs to learn to love his mattress.

And he simply can’t do that with the one he has now.

He used deductive reasoning to try and figure out where Benjy got his mattress, knowing that when Benjy wasn’t lying about work trips to Ontario, he was working in finance.

Which meant he was rich.

He lived in a rich part of town, drove an expressive car, and wore shoes that cost as much as most people’s rent. When Sirius spent his Friday night researching mattress stores near him, he stumbled upon a luxury mattress store five miles away from Benjy’s old apartment: Potter’s Plush Padding.

He’s decided to start his search there, getting up early this morning to beat the Saturday crowds. Not that he thinks there will be Saturday crowds at a luxury mattress store, or any mattress store, for that matter, but he’d rather not risk it with something this important.

The parking lot is empty when Sirius pulls in, only a single blue minivan parked in front of the store. Sirius glances at his watch, 8:51AM. The store opens at nine, so he waits ten minutes, not wanting to come off as being too eager, before making his way into the store. A bell jingles as he opens the door and a man is in front of him a second later.

“Hi!” He smiles, his face lighting up. “Welcome to Potter’s Plush Padding. I’m James.”

James holds his hand out for Sirius to shake, his grip concerningly firm. James is tall, with unruly hair and circular glasses. His smile is terrifyingly contagious and Sirius can’t help but return it. “Sirius.”

James snorts before dropping Sirius’ hand and sending him an apologetic smile. “Great! So, what’s up?”

“Uh…” Sirius glances around the store. “I need a mattress.”

“Well, duh,” James laughs. “What kind?”

“A soft one?”

“You’re really bad at this,” James smiles.

“Okay, well you’re the mattress guy here,” Sirius scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tell me what I want.”

“I’m the mattress guy, not the mind reader guy,” James laughs. James grabs Sirius’ wrist and walks a couple feet before stopping in front of a dark blue mattress, “Okay, lie down.”

“Listen,” Sirius starts, “You're nice and all, but we’ve just met.”

“Hey! I’m a happily married man,” James smiles. “This is our tester mattress. Try it, tell me what you think, and we go from there.”

“Oh,” Sirius mumbles. “Okay, but I kind of already know what I want.”

“That would have probably been a good thing to start with,” James says with a playful roll of his eyes. “Which one you lookin’ for?”

“Well,” Sirius says, “I don’t actually know.”

“You really are bad at this,” he laughs.

“I don’t know the name,” Sirius clarifies. “I just know I like it.”

James stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Do you know what it looks like?”

Sirius bites his cheek. “White.”

“Oh, great!” James says cheerfully. “That narrows it down to about a couple thousand!”

“I’ll get on the bed,” Sirius mumbles, moving over to the tester bed and lying down. He lies down on his back, shuffling so his head rests better on the pillow. He hates it. “I hate it.”

James smiles and gestures for him to get up. Sirius does, following after James to the next tester bed. Sirius lies down on the bed and instantly feels like his bones are screaming at him. “I hate it.”

James gestures again and Sirius follows him to the next bed. He hates that one too. James takes him to two more beds, each one just as bad as the one before it. Sirius sits on the edge of the bed as James spins in a circle to look at the other options.

James huffs and sits next to him. “Can you give me some better insight than just ‘I hate it’?”

Sirius scrunches his nose and thinks, bouncing up and down on the bed to test it. “It’s too solid,” he decides, “I like a fluffy bed.”

“Sirius,” James turns and faces him, “This is one of the softest beds we have.”

Sirius blinks at him. He bounces on the bed again and feels like his butt bones are being jabbed into concrete. And this is supposed to be soft? How could anyone possibly sleep on this? He would wake up bruised every morning.

“Are you sure you’re laying down properly?” James asks.

“How many ways can someone lay down?”

“Lots! Maybe you’re doing it wrong. Lay down and let me see.”

“No!” Sirius says scandalized.

“Come on, lay down for me.”

“I’m not laying down for you!”

“Come on! I gotta see how you’re laying down. You’re probably doing it wrong.”

“I am not doing anything wrong!”

“Sometimes people do things wrong, there’s no shame,” James walks around the bed to the empty space and lays down. Sirius keeps himself seated on the edge of the bed and watches confused as James shuffles around on his side of the bed. “This is how you should lay.”

“I didn’t need a demonstration, thanks. That’s what I’m doing.”

“Clearly not,” James laughs. “I feel like I’m on cotton candy.”

“It feels like it’s made of rocks.”

“Rocks of comfort!”

A bell jingles and Sirius looks over to see a tall man walking through the door of the store. He stops at the entrance and glances around the small store, unable to find an employee because the only one is busy lying down on a bed next to Sirius.

“Hello?” He calls out.

James’ head snaps up but he doesn’t get off the bed. “Hello!” He yells. He waves his arm in the air before sitting upright on the bed and jumping off with a loud thud. He turns and points a finger at Sirius, “You,” he points at the mattress, “Lay.”

Sirius feels like a dog. He half expects James to pull a MilkBone out of his pocket and ask him to stay. But for whatever reason he listens, laying down on the bed and crossing his ankles, taking care to not let his shoes touch the pristine white mattress.

He can hear James loudly greeting the new customer across the store, “So, are you looking for a mattress? I hope so! We’ve got lots!”

Sirius shuffles around on the bed, scooting his butt down to try and get more comfortable, but the bed still feels like a slab of cement. He can hear the other customer chatting with James, something about how he would hope the mattress store would have mattresses.

Sirius flips on his side, hoping the mattress may get fluffier if he tries it that way. He always sleeps on his side anyway, so maybe that’s why everything feels so firm and uncomfortable. Or everything is just firm and uncomfortable and Sirius will never be able to find the mattress of his dreams and he’ll be stuck with a lumpy, back-breaking, empty-promise of a bed for the rest of his sad, pathetic life.

He closes his eyes and pretends like he’s trying to fall asleep, really trying to immerse himself in the experience. He’s not used to sleeping in jeans and shoes, so that’s probably part of the issue, but it's not really like he can strip in the middle of a mattress store so he can get the full sleeping experience.

He feels someone jostle his shoulder and peels his eyes open to see James staring down at him. “You’re laying wrong.”

Sirius groans and sits up, letting his feet dangle off the edge of the bed. “I really don’t think I am.”

“I am the mattress expert,” James holds a hand to his heart. “And I say you are.”

“Did you go to school for that?”

James laughs and waves a hand, “Mattress school! Okay! As the mattress expert, I think we should try you on this mattress next and then go from there.”

“Okay.”

“It’s a pillow top, fluffy, but still with some structure.”

“Okay.”

“Great! I’ll take you to it and let you try it out. I’ve got my other new friend over there trying out our firm mattresses right now, so I’ll give him some time and bounce between the two of you.”

“So, you sayin’ got a little somethin’ on the side?” Sirius smirks.

“You know I’m all yours, baby,” James smiles. “But every plate of chicken needs some mac’n’cheese, right?”

“And what am I to do when a roll or mashed potatoes or green beans shows up?”

“I had a big breakfast, so I’m not that hungry,” James laughs. He grabs Sirius by the wrist and starts to direct him towards the back of the store. James gestures at the bed and Sirius rolls his eyes before rolling onto the bed.

“How’s that?”

“Terrible.”

“Great! Okay, I think we have to pull out the big guns. I don’t normally show people this one because it’s ridiculously expensive and most people hate it, but you already hate everything else so what do I have to lose, right?”

Sirius sits up on the bed and stares at him, James smiling widely. James’ phone starts ringing, Snoop Doggs Drop it Like It’s Hot blasting through the quiet store. James grins at him again and excuses himself, laughing about how it’s his wife’s ringtone so he better answer it.

Sirius tells him it’s fine and lies back down on the bed while he waits. Far too firm. He flips on his side and decides he definitely doesn’t like it.

He reaches for his backpack to pull out his phone so he can scroll while he waits, only to find it empty. He checks his other back pocket and the front pocket of his jeans, all empty. He sighs, racking his brain for where he could have possibly left his phone, deciding it must still be in the car because he used it to listen to Marlene’s Divorced Dad Rock playlist on the way here.

“Oh my god!” James yells from across the store. Sirius sits up on the shitty mattress to see a red-faced James run a hand through his hair. “Oh my god!”

James moves around like a madman, flipping between shoving items on the desk into a backpack and yelling. Sirius looks around in worry, almost expecting to see a mattress robber or something, but it’s only him and the tall guy in the store.

“Oh my god!” James yells again. He’s still got his phone pressed to his ear, only using one hand to gather his items. He yanks open a desk drawer and pulls out a Lightning McQueen lunch box, shoving that into his backpack too. Sirius wonders how much stuff he brings to work every day, but he’s guessing that the stapler James is throwing in his backpack is probably not supposed to be leaving the store.

The tall guy glances over at Sirius, a confused expression on his face. Sirius shrugs before he gets off the bed, his shoe leaving a dirt mark on the white mattress. He tries to nonchalantly brush it off, but the tall guy is watching him with a small smirk.

“Oh my god!” James yells again. Sirius tears his gaze away from the tall guy and back to James, who has now hung up the phone and is throwing his backpack over his shoulders. James pats the front and back pockets of his pants, “Phone, keys, wallet. Baby!”

A second later and James is rushing toward the entrance of the store, not sparing a second glance at Sirius or the other customer. James exits the store, closing the door and locking it behind him.

Sirius can only watch in shock as James yanks on the door to make sure it’s locked, then runs into the parking lot. He can faintly hear the repetitive beeping as if he’s pushing the button to unlock his car multiple times. Sirius watches out the store's big windows as a blue minivan peels out of the parking lot and into oncoming traffic, the tires squealing.

Thirty seconds pass before Sirius looks over at the other customer, who’s staring at the locked door in shock while he scratches at his ear, an endearingly confused look on his face.

“Did…” he starts.

“Yes,” Sirius interrupts. “Yes, I think he did.”

“And we’re…”

“Yes,” Sirius nods. “Yes, I think we are.”

The guy nods his head for a couple seconds before breaking out into a boisterous laugh that Sirius can’t help but join in on.

“What - ” the guy laughs. “What do we do?”

Sirius laughs even harder, his eyes starting to water. What do they do!? He shakes his head and shrugs, his shoulders shaking from laughing so hard. “Fuck if I know!”

“Do you…do you think he’ll be back?”

Sirius bites his lip to try and stop himself from laughing. He can feel his face flush and his eyes water from laughing so hard. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “I sure hope so.”

The guy breaks out into another bout of laughter, his eyes squeezed shut as he flops down on the mattress closest to him. Sirius watches as he spreads his arms out on the bed, his long legs still touching the ground.

“Oh, fuck,” the guy sighs after he finally stops his fit of laughter. “This is just great.”

“Not really ideal, no.”

“There’s gotta be another way out, don’t you think?”

Sirius looks at him skeptically but ultimately decides to get up and search. He walks around the back of the store until he finds an employee-only door and twists the handle to find it locked. He goes back to the single desk in the store and rummages through the drawers hoping to find a key, but comes up empty-handed.

“Any luck?” The guy asks.

Sirius shakes his head and plops down on the nearest bed, finally giving in and kicking his shoes off. He can hear a quiet squeak as the guy sits down on a bed next to him.

“Door is locked from the outside, so even if we used a bobby pin or a credit card or something, it wouldn’t do us any good.”

Sirius groans. “So, there’s no back entrance and we can’t undo the lock to the front entrance. Any other ideas?”

“We could call someone?”

Sirius turns his head to face the guy. “Yeah, okay. That’s good. I, um, I left my phone in my car, would you mind?”

The guy blinks at Sirius before he starts giggling uncontrollably. Sirius has no idea what’s so funny, but he has a ridiculously contagious laugh, so Sirius starts giggling too.

“I,” the guy throws his head back and somehow starts laughing harder. “I left my phone in my car, too.”

And Sirius isn’t laughing anymore.

The store gets deathly silent, both of them sprawled out on separate beds and staring up at the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. A few moments pass, neither of them saying anything or looking at each other.

“I’ll look at the desk, you look around the store?” Sirius offers. The guy nods and gets up, starting to look around the store for a phone.

Sirius heads to the desk, opening and closing each drawer in hopes of finding a phone that he already knows isn’t there. He just looked in these drawers, he knows there isn’t one in there. But he looks anyway, desperately hoping he’s wrong.

“No phone at the desk,” Sirius sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed across the one the guy is now sitting on. He crosses his legs underneath him and rests his chin in his hand. “Any more ideas?”

“We could break a window?” He suggests.

Sirius hums, flipping his head again to stare off at the empty desk where James had just thrown all of his things (and many of the store's things) into a backpack. He thinks of the poor fool who has to work a Saturday morning shift at a luxury mattress store that apparently doesn’t get much business, “I don’t want to get him in trouble. If we break a window, the owners may fire him or make him pay for it.”

The guy sighs. “Well, we’re probably going to be spending a couple hours here together, then.” He holds his hand out and Sirius shakes it, “My name's Remus.”

“Sirius.”

Remus' lips quirk into a crooked smile. “That’s original.”

“And, what, Remus isn’t?”

“Fair,” he holds his hands up in surrender. “Have any other ideas to get us out of here, Sirius?”

“We have no other doors besides the one that’s locked, no phones, and no desire to break a window. I think we may have exhausted all of our options, Remus.”

“You’re the one who didn’t want to smash the window. I have a shoe and an excellent aim.”

“We can’t break the window,” Sirius sighs. “They’re huge. They would cost a fortune to replace.”

“I’m sure they have insurance.”

“The guy would totally lose his job.”

“He’s locked me in a mattress store.”

“And, what, you think I'm in here on my own volition?”

“You do look awfully comfortable,” Remus smirks as he looks down at Sirius, his shoes kicked off and lying on his side on some uncomfortable mattress. For a luxury mattress store, they sure do have the worst mattresses.

“You got somewhere to be?” Sirius asks.

“I guess not, no,” Remus sighs, kicking off his shoes and flopping back on his own bed. “How long until you let me break the window?”

“Three hours, and we break the window.”

“I break the window.”

“Fine, you can break the window,” Sirius concedes, even though he would actually very much like to break the window. It could be incredibly useful to get out some of the pent-up aggression Dorcas thinks he has.

“We don’t have phones,” Remus trails off as he glances around the bare beige walls of the store. “Or a clock, so…”

“We can use the sun.”

“The sun?”

“That’s how they did time in the old days, I’m sure we can figure it out,” Sirius shrugs.

“Love the optimism,” Remus mumbles. “You go ahead and figure that out, yeah?” Remus reaches over to yank a pillow off of the bed next to him and shuffles on his bed so he’s lying down, his head resting on his stolen pillow.

Sirius flips on his side to face him, feeling slightly stalkerish but also not really having the motivation to care. He’s tall, with long limbs that are nearly falling off the bed from the way he’s laying. His hair is golden brown and curly, which Sirius personally thinks compliments his tan skin very nicely.

From a completely aesthetic perspective, of course.

His eyes are closed and Sirius didn’t get a close enough look earlier, but he’s guessing green or brown. For the aesthetic. He’s got a splatter of freckles all over his face and Sirius vaguely wonders if he’s got them anywhere else.

Aesthetically.

“Where are you from?” Sirius asks.

Remus doesn’t move his head from the pillow. “What?” He mumbles.

“Where are you from?” Sirius repeats a little louder.

“Tennessee.”

“Yeehaw.” Sirius watches as Remus bites back a laugh and he can feel his face start to flush. “Where in Tennessee?”

“You wouldn’t have heard of it.”

“I’ve heard of lots of things, actually.”

Remus smiles and Sirius notices he has dimples. “Where are you from?”

“California. Los Angeles. You’ve probably heard of it.”

Remus shakes his head and clicks his tongue, “Can’t say I have. What’s it like?”

“Polluted.”

“Sounds beautiful.”

“There’s nothing quite like it,” Sirius smiles, his charming smile that usually has people falling at his feet.

Remus isn’t affected because his eyes are still closed and he can’t bear witness to Sirius’ charming, sultry, sexy smile. He just breathes out a quiet laugh, fluffs up his pillow, and sighs deeply. And Sirius can’t have that. Sirius gives it a minute, maybe two, before the silence overwhelms him. “What brought you here?” He asks.

“I need a mattress.”

“Well, duh. No, I meant here, the city.”

Remus doesn’t even open his eyes when he mumbles his answer, “Work.”

“What do you do for work?”

“Tech.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Sirius lies. “What kind of tech?”

Green or brown? Green or brown?

His eyes remain closed, “Software engineer.”

“Oh, that’s…really interesting. What, uh, what do you do with that?”

“Engineer software.”

“Good stuff,” Sirius nods dumbly. “My brother works in tech. He’s still in LA, though. And he does something with clouds, I don’t really know. Do you…do you work with clouds?”

Remus doesn’t answer. He doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t even move a muscle. Sirius clears his throat and fluffs up his own pillow. Clearly, Remus isn’t in the mood to chat, and that’s totally okay. Doesn’t bother him at all.

“I’m a painter.”

Remus hums.

“I paint. Sometimes clouds, but not really…ever clouds. Mostly portraits. I just finished an exhibit last month on baristas. It started as a joke because Marlene is a barista and she’s a lesbian with blue hair and a septum piercing - oh, Marlene is my best friend. Anyway, we always joked about it, especially because Peter, who is a very standard-looking male, and also my other best friend, is a barista,” Sirius keeps his eyes locked on Remus as he rambles, waiting for the moment he’ll open them and Sirius and finally know - green or brown?

Sirius goes on to tell Remus all about the portraits he painted for Marlene and Peter and how all their coworkers were jealous, thus sparking his barista collection. He tells him about how much he hated it at first, spending two weeks on Peter’s left eye, and how he nearly threw the whole thing out when he finished. But now it’s on display at the largest museum in the city and Sirius has people reaching out to him every day for commissions.

Remus hums occasionally but keeps his eyes shut and doesn’t speak a word.

“…but Peter doesn’t mind. Actually, I think he likes it. I know he likes it when Fabian says it, but that’s because of the whole thing going on between them. Have I mentioned that yet? Oh, you’ll love this. Okay, so Fabian…”

“…and I know that I should be honest, but I just don’t think it’s always necessary. If I tell Dorcas that her outfit looks like shit, she should appreciate my honesty, don’t you think? Sorry, sorry! Dorcas is Marlene’s girlfriend. Although, y’know, if she was here she would get on me about referring to her by her relationship status. Hmm… okay, so Dorcas is…”

“…they all come out of the woodwork, talking about how they all hated him and thought I could do so much better. Like, sorry, if you hated him that much, could you have maybe told me and I could have skipped the whole ‘married with a wife in Ontario’ bit? I break up with my boyfriend and suddenly everyone is a fucking psychic, let me tell you…”

Brown.

Remus’ eyes are brown.

He finally opens them, big and brown and sleepy. Sirius smiles to himself as he blinks repeatedly to adjust to the light.

“How do you have so much in your brain?” He mumbles.

“Funny, my mom used to say the opposite.”

Remus sits up on his bed, crossing his long legs underneath him. “You’re a very interesting person.”

“Funny, my mom used to say the opp - ”

“I get it,” Remus holds a hand up. Sirius bites back his smile. “Can I expect you’ll do this the whole time?”

Sirius nods solemnly.

“Okay, then I want to know more about the Peter and Fabian situation,” he sighs, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes again.

Sirius jumps into the story, telling Remus all about how Peter and Fabian have been in a sort of ‘near-miss’ relationship for almost ten years, one getting out of a relationship at the same time the other gets in one, but this time they’re both single and everyone is placing bets for how long it’ll take them to finally get together.

Remus gives him $10 and says it’ll take them another week.

“Fabian’s the one who introduced me to Benjy. They worked together and Fabian hooked us up. Of course, Fabian didn’t know about the wife.”

“Wait, so Benjy had a wife the whole time you were dating him?”

“The whole three years. He’d been married for fourteen. He has a six-month-old son and a mortgage on a five-bedroom, three-bathroom house in Ontario.”

“Wow,” Remus whispers, his eyes wide.

Sirius nods. “I looked it up on Zillow. He bought it last year, probably right around when he found out his wife was pregnant. You know what else he bought last year? A coffee cup with star constellations so I could have my own mug every morning.”

“That’s fucked.”

Sirius shrugs and waves a dismissive hand. “I’m over it. I took the mug and smashed it and Dorcas baked me some break-up brownies.”

Remus laughs quietly and tilts his head to face Sirius again. “So, is that why you’re mattress shopping?”

Sirius’ eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you and Benjy broke up.”

“What does that have to do with my mattress needs?”

“Considering you're here and, thankfully, not Benjy, I assumed he got the mattress in the breakup.”

“Benjy got the mattress,” Sirius nods. “But that’s because it was his mattress in his apartment. We didn’t live together.”

“Oh,” Remus nods, his eyes moving off of Sirius and staring down at his own hands. “I guess I just figured mattress shopping right after a break-up…”

“No, no,” Sirius shakes his head, “Benjy asked me to move in with him shortly after the coffee cup ordeal, but he always walked around barefoot and I hated seeing his feet.”

Remus smiles and his shoulders shake a little bit as he laughs, “Weird reason not to move in with someone.”

“And yet very valid,” Sirius smiles. “Anyway, we didn’t live together. Benjy kept his mattress and I kept mine, but I just need a new mattress. Okay, I don’t actually need a new mattress, the one I have is only a year old, but I hate it and Benjy had the most comfortable mattress in the whole wide world and I’m desperately looking for it.”

“In the whole wide world?”

“All of it,” Sirius nods. “It was like sleeping on a dream.”

“That’s quite the statement,” Remus smiles. “Have you thought of asking Benjy where he got his mattress from?”

“Marlene deleted his number. I am on my own in my hunt.”

“Poor you.”

“Poor me, indeed,” Sirius sighs dramatically. Remus smiles softly before leaning his head back and closing his eyes again, and Sirius feels the desperate and strange desire to keep Remus’ attention on him. “What about you?”

“What about me?” He mumbles.

“Why are you mattress shopping?”

“I bought a mattress on FaceBook Marketplace - I know, I know,” Remus holds a hand up and Sirius closes his mouth from what he was about to say. “I had just moved here a couple months ago and needed something quick, and this guy was desperate to sell, so.”

“So, now you want to get rid of your nasty, used mattress and get yourself a fresh new one to abuse?” Sirius wags his eyebrows.

“In my defense, it’s a quality mattress. Some expensive crap that’s made from hand-plucked goose feathers or something. I mean, it’s shit for comfort, but I looked it up after I bought it and that thing is like ten thousand dollars.”

“And what did you pay?”

“A hundred bucks,” Remus smiles. “It’s pretty new too, from what the guy said. But I hate it and it’s breaking my damn back, so I gotta get rid of it.”

“Will you sell it for what you paid for it?”

“Fuck no,” Remus laughs. “I posted it on FaceBook yesterday and already have fifty different people messaging me and offering to pay full price for it.”

“Wow, there must be some type of mattress hierarchy that I know nothing about,” Sirius muses.

“Tell me about it,” Remus smiles, facing Sirius again and looking at him with his big brown eyes. “Before this, my most expensive mattress was one I ordered on Amazon for three hundred dollars, and it’s still the most comfortable bed I've ever had.”

“Your standards must be terrifyingly low.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Remus smirks.

“Why are you at a luxury mattress store, then?”

“My coworker's husband's family owns the place. She said she could get me a hefty discount if I could get her out of a work event last month.”

“And here you are.”

“And here I am,” Remus smiles.

“What was the event?”

“A company picnic. Bobbing for apples, conga lines, a piñata - attendance was mandatory because we were supposed to be ‘bonding.’”

“Then how’d you get her out of it?” Sirius laughs.

Remus smiles, big and bright, making his dimples appear and making Sirius feel warm all over. “We were carpooling and happened to be in a car accident on the way to the park.”

Sirius laughs in surprise, “You got yourself out of it too?”

“It’s not like she’d know,” he giggles, “She wasn’t there.”

“Remus…I don’t know your last name, I cannot believe you.”

“S’not a big deal,” Remus shrugs. “I got us both out of bonding with our coworkers and now I get a heavily discounted luxury mattress.”

“Seems like the scales are tipped in your favor.”

Remus looks at him for a moment, his gaze heavy, before responding, “Yes, it seems like they are.”

Sirius shuffles uncomfortably on his bed, somehow feeling a bit raw and exposed under Remus’ gaze. “Of course, her husband's family’s employee has now locked you in their mattress store, so maybe your luck is running out.”

“I don’t think it is,” Remus says quietly, his eyes set on Sirius and a faint smile on his face. “I should make a lot of money off this lawsuit.”

Sirius huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, tell your lawyer to include me in that, would you?”

Remus nods in agreement before shuffling on his bed, laying his head back on his pillow and closing his eyes.

Sirius only lasts a couple minutes with his own thoughts in his mind, replaying episodes of Friends and thinking of new things he wants to paint, before he loses interest. He glances occasionally at Remus, who looks so peaceful trying to fall asleep, his cheek squished against the pillow and his eyes squeezed shut.

“Remus?” He whispers. Remus doesn’t move.

“Remus?” He shuffles just a little bit, Sirius only picking up on it because of how hard he’s staring.

“Remus?” A little louder.

“Mmm?” Remus finally hums.

“Remus, I’m bored.”

“What do you want me to do about that?” He mumbles.

Sirius has many nefarious thoughts running through his mind, but he chooses to keep those to himself. “Entertain me.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

Don’t say it, Sirius. Do not say it.

“I don’t know,” yes you do. “Tell me something.”

“Like what?” Remus mumbles.

“What’s Tennessee like?”

Remus finally obliges, breaking into a long talk about what it was like growing up in Tennessee. The conversation moves seamlessly, jumping between talks of their childhoods, Remus’ ex-boyfriend who voluntarily slept in a sleeping bag for a year, Sirius’ favorite candle scents, what Remus majored in during college, where Sirius learned how to paint, Remus’ ex-girlfriend who stole all of his socks when they broke up, and what each of Sirius’ (visible) tattoos mean.

After well over an hour of talking, the conversation dies down and Sirius is finally able to convince Remus to go around and try all the mattresses, having pestered him about it for the last forty minutes of their conversation.

Sirius pads around the store in his socks until they reach the front, starting with the beds on the far left. He very casually gets on the bed and lies down as Remus flips through the information book at the end of the bed.

“This one is supposed to be a medium,” Remus mumbles, flipping the book closed. “Four thousand dollars.”

“They better pay me four thousand dollars to lay on this piece of shit,” Sirius mumbles, closing his eyes and shuffling his head on the luxury ergonomic pillow to try and get more comfortable.

He feels the empty side of the bed dip and his eyes shoot open. He stares up at the white ceiling, unable to get himself to look as Remus crawls into the bed next to him. Sirius is stiff as a board while Remus gets comfortable, shuffling around until they’re only inches away from each other.

“Ugh,” Remus groans. “Yeah, this is awful.”

Sirius’ heart is in his throat, so he doesn’t respond. He just nods dumbly, still unable to tear his eyes away from the ceiling. His palms feel sweaty and his brain feels empty, desperately trying to think of something to say to fill the awkward silence.

He hadn’t been expecting Remus to get on his bed.

Not his bed - Remus isn’t on his bed. Remus is on the bed that Sirius is also on. They are both simply lying down on the same mattress, platonically. Remus is on the left side of the mattress, and Sirius is on the right. There’s totally, like, several inches of space in between them.

Sirius has laid down in the same bed as another man before. It’s not unheard of! Of course, that was usually because he was sleeping with said man…Sirius can’t remember the last time he’s platonically laid on the same bed as another man!

“It’s bad,” he mumbles after far too long in complete and total silence. He’s not even sure if he was talking about the mattress or the situation.

He gets up a second later, putting his full energy into making sure he looks extremely natural and effortless. He moves over to the next bed and lays down, vaguely able to hear Remus getting up and making his way over.

“This is another medium,” Remus says, quickly looking through the book at the end of the bed. Sirius is glad he wore his matching socks today - and that they’re plain black. He had changed them this morning from the dragonfly socks Marlene got him for Christmas last year. “Only three thousand dollars for this one, though.”

Sirius scoffs. “They should be handing these out for free, that's how crappy they are.”

The bed dips and once again Sirius can smell the faint cinnamon scent of Remus’ cologne. Remus shuffles a few times before he settles with a sigh, “I don’t think I’m a fan either.”

They continue to move around the store trying out the different mattresses, Sirius’ heart pounding each and every time he feels the bed dip from Remus lying down. They move to the right side of the store once they’ve finished testing all the beds on the left side of the store, Sirius completely dissatisfied with all of his options so far.

Remus hates them all just as much, which of course makes him feel like much less of a bitch. Although Remus only announces his displeasure with a simple ‘I don’t like it’ compared to Sirius’ much more…opinionated complaints. He hopes the store owners don’t have video cameras.

“All I want is a nice, comfortable bed. Is that too much to ask for?” He whines as he flops down on the next bed, his muscles and bones almost instantly aching from possibly the worst mattress he has ever laid on. He has literally never in his life felt a mattress so uncomfortable before. A stray dog wouldn’t even lay on this!

Remus bypasses the information book at the end of the bed this time and just lays down, Sirius still having to hold his breath as he lies next to him. “Oh,” Remus mumbles.

“I know right?” Sirius laughs. They must have used granite or stone or something as the base of this bed, Sirius has actually laid on literal concrete more comfortable than this.

“Yeah,” Remus sighs. “This one’s great.”

“This is awful!”

Silence. Total, complete, unbearable silence.

For hours. Day, weeks, months, years. It’s silent. Until five seconds later, when Remus shuffles so he’s lying on his side. Sirius keeps his eyes firm on the ceiling, willing himself to not turn his head even though he can feel Remus’ body heat next to him, so close.

“You don’t like it?” He mumbles.

“You do?” Sirius asks, finally turning his head to face Remus. He’s impossibly close, his big brown eyes and freckles only inches away from Sirius. He wants to reach out and touch him, trace the pads of his fingers over Remus’ freckles while he counts them. Tangle his fingers in his golden brown curls, stare into his eyes, hold him in the palm of his hands. But that would just be absurd.

“I like this one,” he murmurs. He blinks slowly, it's intoxicating and Sirius wants to paint him. “I like this one a lot.”

He wants to touch. He wants his hands on Remus, he wants Remus’ hands on him. He wants to be closer, he wants to engulf himself in the faint cinnamon scent of Remus’ cologne. His fingers twitch at his side and he resists every urge in his body to reach up and push away the single brown curl falling in Remus’ eyes.

He keeps his eyes locked on Remus, only four inches and silence in between them. Remus doesn’t move, his eyes never leave Sirius, deep brown and eyelashes so long they almost reach his eyebrows.

He wants to paint him. All browns and greens and oranges - warm autumn colors and smooth brushstrokes. He wants Remus to pose for a portrait, to sit in Sirius’ small studio and let Sirius stare at him for hours on end, pretending like he’s trying to perfect Remus’ eye shape when really he just wants to look at them and look at them and look at them. He can make it his next project, People in Mattress Stores or The Most Beautiful Man I’ve Ever Seen or Oh My God His Eyes.

An eternity or seconds pass, Sirius isn’t sure, the time got lost somewhere in his head and became second in a competition it could only lose against focusing all of his attention on Remus. He only has the forethought to take a deep breath and close his eyes when he feels Remus shift on the bed. He opens them a moment later to see Remus closer, his mouth right there, lips pink and pouty, and Sirius wants them everywhere.

Remus leans in, closer and closer and closer, and Sirius closes his eyes and counts to five, willing his heart to stop flipping in his chest.

“Excuse me?” A voice reigns through the store, loud and deep. Sirius can only feel as Remus pulls away from him, the loss of his body heat and his cinnamon scent and his lips so close to Sirius’. Sirius keeps eyes shut, forcing himself to take a deep breath and shove down his ever-growing disappointment. “What are you doing in my store?”

Remus shifts off his side and gets off the bed, and suddenly Sirius is alone on the shitty mattress, stuck replaying a moment that never happened.

“Hi, are you the owner?” Remus asks.

Sirius finally brings himself to move, sitting up on the rock-solid bed and looking at the man standing at the entrance of the store. He looks shockingly like James, same brown skin and unruly black hair, only with more strands of gray.

“Yes,” he nods firmly. Sirius already kind of likes him. “And are you robbing me?”

“What?” Remus gasps. He holds his hands out, “No, no. See, we got locked in. In the store, we got locked in here.”

“You got locked…in the store?” He asks, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Yes,” Remus nods. “A couple hours ago, maybe? We - well, both of us, separately, came into the store and the guy working - ”

“James,” Sirius pipes up.

“James,” Remus nods again, frantically. “James got a phone call and left, and…well, locked us in here.”

The man stares at them for a brief moment, Remus obviously squirming under his firm gaze, before he huffs out a laugh and shakes his head in disbelief. “That damn blubbering fool,” he mumbles.

“Sorry?” Remus asks.

The man moves closer to them, reaching a hand out for Remus to nervously shake. “Fleamont Potter, I’ll have to apologize on behalf of my son, always said he’d lose his head if it wasn’t attached.”

“Your…son?” Remus asks.

“James,” Fleamont sighs, sitting down on the empty space next to Sirius on the bed. “His wife went into labor - that was the call. He rushed to the hospital, almost missed the damn birth - didn’t think to tell me he left the store unattended till four hours later, and definitely forgot to mention the people he locked inside.”

“I don’t think he really even noticed,” Remus mumbles.

“No, he probably didn’t,” Fleamont laughs. “I was just coming by to close everything down for the afternoon, was certainly surprised to see the two of you all cuddled up on one of my beds.”

“Oh, we - well, we weren’t. It wasn’t - ” Sirius stutters, his face warming under Fleamonts knowing gaze. Remus pointedly looks away, the tips of his ears burning bright red.

Fleamont waves a dismissive hand, “You’d be surprised what I’ve seen happen on these beds, son.”

Sirius jolts up off the bed, his face squished in disgust as he wipes at his pants. Fleamont laughs and slowly gets off the bed too, moving over to the empty desk in the back of the store. Sirius moves closer to Remus, keeping a couple feet of distance in between them. Remus glances down and smiles at him, all dimples and teeth.

“Come here, boys,” Fleamont yells out, typing quickly on a laptop. He waits until they get there, gesturing at the bed closest to the desk, Remus and Sirius awkwardly sitting down on it. “I’m sorry about all this.”

“Oh, it’s - ” Sirius starts, Fleamont putting a hand up to stop him.

“None of that nonsense. My son, bless his heart, is a pain in my ass, but he’s blood and my wife likes him quite a bit, so we keep him around. He’s caused a fair share of mishaps around the store, never locked anyone in here,” Fleamont mumbles. “Anyway, I hope there’s anything I can do to make this right for you.”

“Really, it’s not - ”

“I’ll take a free mattress,” Remus cuts him off.

“Oh!” Sirius yells. “Yeah, I’ll take one, too.”

“Well, a free mattress is an obvious. I was hoping maybe there was something more I could do?”

“You sell luxury sheets?” Remus asks. “Luxury pillows? Luxury bed frames?”

“Yes,” Fleamont clears his throat. “We sell all of that.”

“Sounds good to me,” Remus smiles. “Sirius?”

“Incredibly fair and square, in my opinion,” Sirius shrugs.

“Well! It’s settled, then. Come in anytime, unfortunately, James works five days a week so I can’t guarantee he won’t be here, but we’ll start scheduling myself or my wife with him from now on,” Fleamont laughs. “We’ll get you both set up, free of charge for whatever you’d like.”

Fleamont thanks them again, incredibly appreciative that they didn’t smash one of his luxury windows or defecate on one of his beds. He ushers them out of the store, making sure they’re both actually outside the store, before locking the door, mentioning that he only came by to close up the store and is now heading back to the hospital to go see his grandson. He gets into his car and waves goodbye, leaving Remus and Sirius awkwardly standing around outside the store.

“That was…” Remus trails off.

“Maybe the most insane thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Yes,” Remus laughs. “Yes, I think so too.”

Sirius turns and faces him, feeling an odd sense of disappointment to be out of the confines of the mattress store. His brain is screaming at him, begging him to ask for Remus’ number or email or LinkedIn, anything, but his mouth doesn’t move.

“I, um,” Remus clears his throat. “It was nice meeting you. You made being locked in a mattress store not so bad.”

Sirius feels sad and pathetic as his cheeks start to flush so he looks down at his shoes. “I guess I could say the same for you.”

“Well, I would hope so,” he smiles, all dimples and bright. “Have a good rest of your day, Sirius.”

Sirius stands dumbly as Remus turns and walks to his car, the beep of it unlocking snapping him out of his daze. “Dinner?” He yells, far too loud and with nowhere near enough nouns or adjectives.

“Oh, thank god,” Remus mumbles, leaving his car and walking back to Sirius with a giant smile on his face.

Sirius waited exactly one hour before texting Remus and asking him out to dinner.

Remus waited exactly one minute before responding and saying he was free tonight.

Sirius watched the clock nervously, seeing the hours pass him by. He left his art studio at exactly 5:25PM, giving him just enough time to shower and change his outfit fourteen different times.

But Sirius only changes his outfit nine times, leaving him an extra fifteen minutes to sit on his couch and wait patiently until it’s a respectable time for him to leave for Remus’ apartment. He checks his phone repeatedly, a faint fear that Remus will text him to cancel, but he never does. He leaves at exactly 6:15, perfectly getting him to Remus’ apartment just before the agreed-upon 6:30. He wipes his hands against his jeans before knocking on the door.

Remus opens the door only a second later, tall and handsome and right in front of Sirius’ face.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” Remus smiles.

They don’t go to dinner.

They never make it past the elevator, Remus’ hands soft and gentle and Sirius’ mouth wet and everywhere. The elevator dings and they’re on the ground floor, Remus’ lips never leaving Sirius’ as he pushes the button back up to his floor and takes him back up to his apartment.

His hands shake as he tries to unlock his door, Sirius making himself as unhelpful as he possibly can, running his hands up and down Remus’ back. Remus finally gets the door open, grabbing Sirius by the wrist and dragging him into the dark space.

“Nice place,” Sirius breathes, Remus crowding over him and pushing him up against the front door. Remus’ hands are quick, moving everywhere from his hair to his belt buckle.

“Wait till you see the bedroom,” he smiles, his lips pressed against Sirius’ neck and his fingers playing with the waistband of his pants.

“Awfully…” he gasps when Remus shoves his thigh in between Sirius’ legs and presses up, “Presumptuous…of you.”

Remus’ lips stay on his neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses up his jaw. “We can just do this here, then,” he mumbles. “I don’t mind.”

“Fuck,” Sirius sighs, tangling his fingers through Remus’ curls. “Here is fine. Here is good.”

Before he knows it, Remus is down on his knees, his eyes still big and brown in the dark entryway. Sirius can feel his resolve crumble just at the sight of Remus on his knees in front of him, his lips shiny and pink and so close.

Remus grabs him harshly by the hips before rubbing soft circles on the exposed sliver of skin just above his pants. He looks up at Sirius, eyes lidded and heavy, “Can I?”

Sirius can only nod, his head hitting the door with a loud thunk as Remus undoes his pants and pulls them off, throwing them somewhere Sirius isn’t currently concerned about. What he is concerned about are the hot kisses Remus is leaving on his inner thigh, inching higher and higher and higher and higher.

His moan is loud and embarrassing when Remus finally takes him in his mouth, his breaths shallow and forced and his mind reeling as he feels Remus groan around him. His legs feel weak and numb, Remus putting a strong and large hand against his bare hip and pressing him tight against the door.

It doesn’t take long until Sirius is squeezing his eyes shut and frantically tapping Remus on the shoulder, forcing himself to keep his hips still and not push into Remus’ hot mouth. He throws his head back against the door and Remus’ grip on his hips tightens.

“Fuck, Remus, I’m going to come,” he whines, Remus tapping a gentle finger against his bare thigh. Sirius looks down and watches the way Remus’ lips move around him. Remus meets his gaze with a simple glance up, his pupils blown and eyes watery, instantly sending Sirius over the edge.

Sirius yanks him up only a second later, legs weak and breaths heavy, shoving him against the door and finding his lips. He can taste himself on Remus’ tongue, the simple thought sending him into a daze. Remus’ hands are cupped around his ass, pulling him closer and closer until there’s no more room for him to go. Sirius can feel him hard against his leg, Remus’ moans getting breathier as Sirius cups him through his pants before starting to fumble with his belt buckle.

Sirius forces himself away from Remus for a moment, tearing his shirt off and leaving kisses all the way down his chest until he’s on his knees, looking up at Remus while his fingers undo the button on his pants. Remus throws his head back and whines, his fingers gripping hard in Sirius’ hair.

“Please,” Remus whispers, desperate and needy and Sirius moves faster than he ever has in his life, removing Remus’ pants and tossing them somewhere across the room, distantly hoping he doesn’t hit anything but also not at all caring if he does.

Sirius wastes no time, Remus’ desperate whimpers and sighs above him spurring him on. He takes Remus in his mouth, his hand wrapped around what he can’t fit. Remus is loud, swearing and moaning, his head thrown back against the door and his fingers twisted in Sirius’ hair. The bare skin of his knees scrapes against Remus’ wood floors, Sirius groaning when he thinks about the bruises that’ll be formed there tomorrow.

“Sirius,” he breathes. “Sirius, fuck.”

Sirius moans around him, the sound of his name coming out of Remus’ mouth like that driving him insane. He keeps his eyes locked on Remus, refusing to look away from the sight above him. Remus meets his eye when he looks back down, his jaw dropped and chest heaving.

“Sirius, god,” Remus groans, his grip in Sirius’ hair growing tighter, “I’m - I’m gonna - ”

Sirius nods and Remus moans loudly one more time, his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut. Sirius pulls off a few moments after he finishes, littering gentle kisses against his thigh as Remus tries to catch his breath.

“Fuck, get up here,” Remus mumbles, pulling him up to his feet and kissing him softly. Sirius kisses him back, slow and gentle, taking their time compared to the beginning of their quick hallway fumble.

“Can I show you my room now?” Remus mumbles, gripping Sirius’ bare ass tightly, and Sirius can already feel his blood running south again.

“Please,” he kisses against Remus' neck. Remus’ hands leave his ass to grab him by the wrist and walk him through the dark apartment and into his room.

The second he closes the door, Remus is all over him again, hands running through his hair and down his naked back. “Wanna try my bed? See if this one’s comfortable?” He mumbles, gently moving Sirius until the back of his knees hits the bed and he falls back.

Sirius gets himself comfortable on Remus’ bed as he watches Remus crawl over him, slowly leaving warm kisses up his legs and to his chest.

“This is nice,” Sirius mumbles, Remus’ knees on either side of his hips.

“Yeah?” Remus quirks an eyebrow and smiles down at him.

“Yeah,” he sighs, his hands resting low on Remus’ bare hips. “Where’d you say you got the mattress, again? I really like it.”

***

“And, well,” James laughs. “I don't necessarily like to take credit for their relationship, but I did lock them in a mattress store together for several hours, so, you do the math.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and scoffs, Remus resting a hand against his thigh and smiling down at him.

“You’d think four hours in a mattress store, they’d find some common ground, but alas. Ask all our friends, Marlene, Peter, Mary, Alice, they’ll all agree! The only argument the two of them will ever have is in regards to their mattress.”

“Four years together and I wouldn’t even be able to count on every single person here’s fingers how many times either one of them has complained about their mattress. Too soft for Remus and too firm for Sirius. Now, you’re probably thinking, ‘James, you’re a mattress expert! Their best friend is a mattress expert and he can’t find them a suitable mattress?’”

“And the answer to that, my friends, is no. They have tested every mattress in my family’s store, and there is nothing suitable for both of them. And the idea of sleeping in separate beds was shot down instantly, but I won’t scare you with the details of that particular conversation.”

“In the word of love, they will sleep on a mattress they both think is terrible and complain about it every morning to me, the guy who sold them the mattress. So, to the happy couple,” James lifts his champagne glass and turns to face Remus and Sirius, “I hope your relationship is better than your mattress.”

“He’s so weird,” Sirius whispers to Remus before finishing off his glass of champagne.

“You’re his best friend,” Remus reminds him. “And the one who asked him to be the best man.”

“I forgot the best man has to give a speech,” he sighs.

“James has been talking about this speech for the last seven months.”

“James has been talking about his speech for the last four years, ever since our first date,” Sirius scoffs, stealing Remus’ champagne glass and finishing it off.

“If you could even call it a date,” Remus laughs, moving his arm over Sirius’ shoulder and placing a chaste kiss on his head.

“Sirius!” James comes rushing over. “How was it? Was it great? I think it was great. May go down as the best best man speech of all time. We should have called Google.”

“Why would we have called Google?” Remus asks.

“As evidence! For the best best man speech. They’ll need proof before they give me my reward,” James says, rolling his eyes in a very ‘duh’ manner. “Tough act for Lily to follow up on, I gotta say.”

“Are you putting yourself in a competition with your own wife?”

“Lily is not my wife tonight,” James shakes his head. “She is purely the maid of honor. And my competition for the best best friend in the whole wide world.”

“So, you’re putting yourself in a competition with your own wife.”

“Yeah, but don’t tell her,” James pleads. “Because her speech is actually way better than mine, more sentimental and shit.”

“I wonder why,” Remus mumbles.

“Hey, Jamie, your dad said he had something for us?” Sirius asks, cutting James off from the incoming rant about how amazing Lily is and how excellent she is at everything and how everyone should bow at her feet and kiss her toes.

“Oh!” James laughs. “Yeah, but it’s not here. I need you to give me back my key to your guys’ place.”

“No,” Remus says firmly. “You lost key privileges after last time.”

“It was a mistake! Honest! Please, dad needs to get in your place to drop off your gift.”

“No way,” Remus shakes his head. “Between the two of you, your idea of a gift is going to be a fucking pet lion.”

“Oh,” Sirius perks up in his seat.

“No, Sirius.”

Sirius sighs and slumps back down in his seat, taking a big sip from his newly filled champagne glass.

“Promise it’s not! Trust me,” James smiles and nods frantically. “On my wife, my baby, and my baby baby.”

“He’s putting it on all three of his babies,” Sirius whispers, loudly enough for James to hear. James nods dramatically.

“Fine, fine,” Remus relents. “If I come back from my honeymoon and there is an animal, a person, or a pool in our apartment I will be personally filing your missing person report.”

“Scouts honor!” James smiles wildly and holds three fingers up while crossing his heart with his other hand.

Two weeks later, when Sirius and Remus return home from their honeymoon, all tanned and giddy from their time as newlyweds, there are, thankfully, no animals, people, or pools in their apartment.

Instead, they’re greeted with a brand new split mattress, the left side extra firm and the right side extra plush.