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Attempting to stifle his yawn, Remus scrubbed at his face with one hand, the other poised over the mouse as he double and triple checked the morning’s appointments. It was a slim week, down to only two stylists which led to a lot of frustrated phone calls and messages he had to diffuse because even in their slow times, the salon was always over-booked.
It was James’ fault really…or well the fault of his father who had become a sort of hair-care mogul launching a world-wide product which led to a host of salons across the western world. The one they were currently sat in happened to be the most coveted Fleamont’s, because it was not only the first and original, but the one Fleamont’s son ran.
And employed their partner, Sirius Black, who had managed to make a name for himself over the years, now hosting almost strictly celebrity and royalty clients.
Today it was just him and Marlene, as James and Lily were off at a conference in LA, and Dorcas was on holiday. It didn’t bode well for Remus, who had been up nearly half the night with his son who’d taken poorly—which figured, three weeks into school and he’d already picked up some virus. But he’d make it work.
He always did.
He’d been working there for nearly three years, and had become a bit like family to everyone. And Remus hadn’t expected it. James had met him at the library when he was taking Teddy to the Children’s Hour where they had crafts, face paints, and free book give aways. James’ eldest was just near Teddy’s age, and the two had got on so well, suddenly library afternoons became playdates.
Remus had been apprehensive at first. At eleven days old, Remus was driving to pick up medication for Teddy who was ill, and he’d been hit by a driver who wasn’t paying attention. The driver’s side of the car had been completely crushed. Remus had suffered a shattered knee, broken collarbone, and several broken vertebrae. The pressure of the break in his back had injured his spinal cord, leaving him paralysed from the waist down. He had limited mobility in his legs, but he used a wheelchair from the moment he’d left the hospital, and his rehab offered little more than gaining what muscle strength he could.
And it might have ended there, but Teddy’s seat had been thrown from the car, and the small baby ended up in a coma. He recovered shortly after, but he took ill and the medication the doctors had given him destroyed most of his hearing.
Remus wasted no time in making sure he learnt sign, teaching that to Teddy as his first language, and it was routine with them. It was why Teddy didn’t often socialise with other children at these public outings, but at the small colouring table, Harry wandered over and when he noticed Teddy signing ‘Red’, he handed over the red crayon and the next thing Remus knew, they were conversing fully in sign.
James later explained, “Harry’s godfather is Hard of Hearing. He signs a lot with him.”
It seemed a bit meant to be, really.
And when Remus was sacked from his job—as he often was because most places did not want to be accommodating to disability ever—James immediately invited him to work as the salon’s receptionist. “I know it doesn’t seem like much,” James said, “but the pay is really decent—probably more than you were making at the office. And you’re family, Re. It’s an excuse to see you more.”
Remus hated charity, but James had been right. They were a bit like family. He’d already met Sirius a handful of times, and he got on with Lily like they’d known each other their entire lives. So he did. And suddenly this was his life.
James immediately had contractors into the shop, making areas wider, installing a couple of ramps, and had a new desk built for Remus. He wanted to protest, but James wouldn’t hear of it and eventually Remus just gave up trying.
Now he was settled into a job, he could afford more than his monthly expenses—had a nice savings going, Teddy never wanted for anything—and he was content.
Maybe a bit lonely. Especially working with Sirius who he’d started to crush on from the moment he started working. But Sirius was flirt, with everyone, and it rarely got past a warm hand on his shoulder.
But it didn’t matter really. Content was good enough.
Remus was drawn from his thoughts by a face right in front of his, a wide grin, and a coffee waggled back and forth in a paper cup. “You look like you need this.”
Remus smiled gratefully, curling his fingers round it. “God, am I that obvious?”
“Long night? Big date or something?” Sirius slid half his arse onto the top of the counter and leant on his arm. “One of those all-night shag sessions?”
“Is everything about sex with you?” Remus groused. “And no, Teddy’s poorly.”
Sirius’ face fell. “Oh, something bad?”
“Just a cold. But he’s missing out on school and he was up all night.” Remus yawned again, and dropped his head down toward the desk as he let out a low groan. “It’s fine though. Always happens this time of year.”
Sirius hopped down and came round the desk, leaning his hand on Remus’ shoulder as he leant toward the computer screen to check his first appointment of the day. His eyes widened. “Oh no. Gilderoy?”
Remus offered a sympathetic grimace. Gilderoy Lockhart was one of Sirius’ regulars. A big name in Britain, model/actor, but a complete twat and more arrogant than he rightfully should have been. He fancied himself this decade’s Brad Pitt, though he didn’t have the CV to back it up, but he treated everyone dreadful and spent every second in his chair trying to pull Sirius.
“I’m sorry,” Remus said. “I tried to get him to book with Marls, but you know how he is.”
Sirius grimaced and then glanced up at the ornamental clock on the wall. “Fuck. He’s going to be here in ten minutes.” He backed up, then wandered off into the back room.
Remus smiled to himself a little. Sirius could be dramatic at the best of times, and nearly impossible at the worst, but Remus still fancied him. He was still smiling when the salon doors opened, and he glanced up to see Marlene walking in with over-sized sunglasses and a fierce scowl.
“Long night?” Remus asked as she stopped by his counter.
“Must you shout?” she asked with a grimace. “Remus, love of my life, do you have anything in your drawer that will make me not want to die?”
Remus snickered, then pushed a bottle into her hands. “And water. Loads of water. And probably some caffeine. Sirius probably has half his latte left.”
Marlene wandered over to Sirius’ station and found the barely touched latte. Popping a few pills into her mouth, she drank it down then let out a sigh. “God, remind me that trying to drink myself to death is a bad idea. I never die, and then I have to work the next day.”
Rolling back in his chair, Remus grabbed one wheel to spin himself round to face her. “What happened?”
“Oh nothing. Just massive row with Dori last night. As usual.”
Remus rolled his eyes. Marlene and Dori had been together nearly ten years, and rowing for them was like breathing. Marlene was nearly as dramatic as Sirius, and usually threw herself into a bottle of vodka and some posh club to piss her girlfriend off.
Dori would likely stroll in a few hours later with some take-away lunch and the two of them would snog it out in the waxing room. It was business as usual, really.
“Someday when you grow up, you’re going to have to face your problems like a proper adult, you know,” Remus said, spinning back to the computer. The online notification had dinged, and it was an appointment request.
“That’s an old wives tale, you know,” Marlene said as she flung her coat onto James’ unoccupied salon chair. Carefully easing the shades from her face, she scrubbed at smudged eyeliner from under her left eye. “This is Neverland, bitch. I’ll be a rebellious teenager forever.”
Remus rolled his eyes, then sighed when he looked at the name on the screen. Marian Greengrass, requesting an appointment for her daughter, Daphne. Daphne was the daughter of a prominent, very conservative MP no one liked, but the family had been a long-time customer of the Potters’ and James had been instructed not to turn them down.
Sirius strolled back into the room, looking a bit less put out, just as Remus clicked open Sirius’ timetable. With a frown, he turned back to the stylist. “Why have you no appointments on Thursday? I just realised you’ve got a completely open block.”
“That’s the day of my showing,” Sirius said. He leant toward the mirror and began to fiddle with the hearing aid on his left ear. “That one new gallery paying me an obscene amount of money for their grand opening? You remember, right?”
Remus blinked. “Oh. Right shit. Okay.”
Sirius turned. “Why?”
“Marian is trying to book an appointment for Daphne.”
Sirius scowled. “I do not want to work with that little monster. The last time she was in my chair she screamed and wouldn’t hold still, then that bitch threatened to sue me because her hair wasn’t exactly like the photo she gave me. Which I explained to her was impossible in the first place and…”
“Well what do you want me to do?” Remus asked. “She’s asking for Thursday, which obviously is out.”
“Get someone else to do it. Tell her to bugger off and never darken our doorstep again,” Sirius said. He pulled the hearing aid from his ear, then put a silver, decorative ear cuff on.
“You know I literally cannot do that,” Remus said from behind a sigh.
“So see if Marlene will take her.” Sirius glanced down at his work table and frowned. “Where the hell is my coffee?”
“In my belly,” Marlene said as she strolled back into the room. “Thank you. It was delicious.”
“I hate you,” Sirius said. He strolled up behind Remus and grabbed his off the desk, taking a long drink. With a grin, he reached up and pulled his other hearing aid out, then pressed them both into Remus’ hands. “I refuse to listen to his fucking blabbering away. Keep these safe for me.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but carefully palmed them. Currently they were painted black with glitter smeared all over—some of which had gotten on his fingers though with Sirius, he was used to finding glitter in odd places. Sirius second favourite hobby besides being generally irritating to everyone, was painting his hearing aids funky colours, usually to either match an outfit or a mood. Remus tucked them into his drawer, then pushed his chair back a bit.
‘Nearly time,’ he signed.
Sirius rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, the doors to the salon swung open and Gilderoy flounced in. He was wearing a pair of white linen trousers, a light blue shirt to match, and a hideously purple ascot which he removed along with his shades. His hair looked a bit of a mess, greasy and starting to show roots. But he was grinning wildly and his eyes immediately fixed on Sirius who was casually leant against the side of Remus’ desk.
“Ah, lovely,” he said. “All ready for me, are you?” He flashed his too-straight, too-white plastic smile, and Sirius made a short noise of impatience before he turned and stalked off.
Remus cleared his throat, then offered Gilderoy a welcoming smile. “He’ll just me a minute, of course.”
Gilderoy’s gaze cut down to Remus, and he gave him the patented, ‘Does the help have to talk to me,’ look before nodding. “Right. I’ll just make myself comfortable, of course.”
He came round without invite and flopped into Sirius chair, kicking one foot up onto Sirius’ hair tool cart. Giving a look round, he said, “Any chance you can get me a tea? Or are you even able to…”
Remus cut him off with a short, “I’ll put the kettle on.” It wasn’t uncommon for Gilderoy to make those comments at him, and Remus had learnt to bear it since the majority of their clients were never rude. And he was a professional at the very least, though there were days he came a little too close to running the wheels of his chair over Gilderoy’s foot. Especially when he strolled in without shoes on. Like this morning.
But he didn’t.
He was a proper adult, a father for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t just go round mashing people’s toes willy nilly.
Rolling to the back, Remus flicked the kettle on and glanced over to see Sirius sat in one of the waxing chairs, using an emery board to file down his nails. With a sigh, Remus rolled over and waved his hand in Sirius’ face until the stylist looked up.
‘Sulking?’
‘Procrastinating,’ Sirius clarified with a lazy flick of fingers. ‘I don’t feel like putting up with his shit this morning.’
‘Well he’s already asked if I’m able to make tea,’ Remus signed back with a shrug.
Sirius’ face went pink. ‘TWAT,’ he spelt.
Remus snickered. ‘Just get it over with. Then he’ll be gone and you won’t have to see him for another month.’
Sirius grimaced but dropped the emery board and gave Remus’ messy curls a ruffle before walking out. Remus took his time with the tea, grabbing a rather manky looking mug—not that Gilderoy deserved better—and he filled it. Having dealt with him for years now, he knew just how much sugar and milk to add, not bothering with any finesse since Gilderoy would complain and refuse to drink it no matter what he did.
Balancing it carefully, he used one hand to manoeuvre his chair back to the main room and set the mug on Sirius’ station. “There you are. Let me know if you need anything else.” Remus watched as Gilderoy leant over, sniffed at the tea, then turned his nose up.
As predicted.
Remus went back to the desk to work on filing the credit card charges from the day before, and Sirius went to work on Gilderoy’s hair.
Half an hour later, Marlene’s first client came in and she was feeling better, and the mood in the shop was lighter. In spite of Gilderoy’s prattling and Sirius’ blatant refusing to even try to pay attention, there was music on and Remus had laughed several times at Marlene’s rather filthy jokes.
Remus glanced behind him as Sirius was applying a layer of bleach to Gilderoy’s roots, and he caught the stylist’s eye. Sirius gave him a wink and Remus felt his cheeks heat up. The celebrity didn’t miss the exchange, and though Sirius had instructed him not to move, he shifted his head anyway.
“So, I hear you’ve got a gallery opening this week.”
When Sirius didn’t answer, Remus spun his chair and quickly signed what Gilderoy said.
With a huff, Sirius shrugged. “I do. Flourish and Blott’s. That new place in Hampstead.”
“Sounds delightful, you know. I hope you have a stunning date.” Gilderoy laughed and winked at Sirius. “Though if not, I’m happy to provide.”
Sirius clenched his jaw and didn’t reply, but not because he hadn’t understood. Grabbing a cap, he carefully eased it over Gilderoy’s locks, then nodded over to the dryer. “You know the routine.”
Undeterred, Gilderoy rose, gave a withering glower in Remus’ direction, then placed himself under his favourite dryer. Sirius lowered the lid, then switched it on, and the low hum encompassed the hood so Gildeory couldn’t hear a thing.
Sirius sauntered back over and sat down in his chair, pulling a face as he did. ‘I swear he bathes in cologne,’ he signed.
Remus snickered. ‘Bad, is it?’
‘I’m going to smell like this over-priced Gucci shit all day.’
‘Excuse for a long, relaxing bath. Don’t you have bath bombs left from your holiday gifts?’ Remus asked. He’d put together a Lush basket for Sirius because he knew how much the stylist loved to pamper himself with floral scents after a long day working round chemicals.
Sirius’ face softened. ‘I do. Actually I have a karma bubble bar I’ve been dying to use. I’d invite you to come share, but I think you’ve your hands full with sick sprog.’
Remus’ blush only increased, although he was used to the innuendos. ‘Another time, maybe.’
Sirius’ grin widened, then he glanced over at Gilderoy, then back at Remus. “Re,” he said aloud, “can I ask you something?”
Remus nodded.
“Have you plans for Thursday? Because I’d like you to come with me. To the gallery.”
Remus’ eyes widened, then he sighed. ‘Last time you invited me to a showing, it was up three flights of stairs. No lifts.’
Sirius had the decency to blush, and circled his fist round his chest. ‘Sorry. I know better this time. Ground floor, and I want you there. Please.’ His fingers tipped from his chin, mouth forming round the word, and Remus wanted to say no if only to protect himself, but he couldn’t.
He tried. But his body betrayed him.
Nodding, he licked his lips. ‘Okay. But I doubt I have anything to wear.’
Sirius beamed, and leant forward. “Actually I’ve taken care of it. I was kind of hoping you’d say yes, so I had something sent to yours. It should be there by the time you’re home tonight.”
Remus wanted to be irritated by the presumptuous gift, but instead he found it endearing and hated his crush a little. But at the same time he looked over at Gilderoy who had come hoping to be asked out, and he felt a bit smug. Sirius had never once patronised him or infantilised him. And maybe it was because he got it—being Hard of Hearing in a hearing world, Sirius understood what it was like to navigate ableism the way Remus did. Or maybe it was just because Sirius enjoyed his company. But either way, it wasn’t difficult to say yes.
‘You’re an arse,’ he eventually signed, but Sirius merely grinned and went back to his nails until Gilderoy was done.
The rest of the appointment was over quickly. A quick trim to tidy up the length, and then a brow wax. Gilderoy attempted to stay longer, to pull an invite to the gallery showing out of Sirius, but the stylist begged off the conversations saying he had another appointment to prepare for, and he wandered out.
Remus took care of payment, ignoring the nasty look on the celebrity’s face, and gave him a nod as he left the shop. When he was gone, Marlene burst into laughter. “God that moron is so thirsty for Sirius it’s almost painful.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “Yes well, he’s also persistent. You’d think after all this time he’d give up.”
“Reckon he’s not used to being told no,” Marlene said. She used the small little hoover to tidy up hair from her appointment, then banged it in the corner and flopped down into her chair. “Speaking of thirsty, you’re finally going on a date with him.”
Remus’ face erupted into volcanic-levels of hot. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The date. To the gallery opening. He bought you a suit and everything. I mean it’s about time. The sexual tension was getting terminal.”
Remus tried but failed to meet her gaze. “It’s a friendly thing.”
“God, you are…I mean it’s unbelievable, Remus. The both of you. I hope blue balls can’t kill you.”
Before Remus could retort, Sirius wandered back in and leant over Remus, fumbling in the drawer for his hearing aids. In his periphery, he saw Marlene make several lewd gestures which he promptly ignored as Sirius put them back in.
“Alright, who’s next?” he asked, putting his hand right on the bare skin on the back of Remus’ neck.
Trying his best not to shiver, Remus went over the appointments for the day, and ignored the loud snickers from the other stylist who seemed determined to humiliate him for the rest of the afternoon.
***
The day passed as it usually did. Remus took pleasant calls and angry ones. Rearranged timetables and had to tell several of Sirius’ Thursday regulars why he wouldn’t be seeing them—and endure verbal abuse which he wrote down in a notebook so they could laugh about later.
Eventually it was time to close up, and as the last customer left, Remus sagged in his chair, an ache in his bones and desperation for his soft bed. Before he could even attempt to gather his things, his chair was grabbed and spun, and Sirius went down to his knees.
His fingers went straight into Remus’ curls, and he was giving him a look full of disdain. “Your turn.”
Remus blinked. “Sorry?”
“It’s been months, Remus. I’ve let you carry on long enough. You’re getting a cut, especially if you’re going to be my hot date on Thursday.”
At this Marlene gave a series of coughs which both men pretended they didn’t hear. “Sirius, I don’t have time…”
“Yes, you do. You’ve checked in with Mary nineteen times already. Teddy doesn’t even have a fever, the meds for his cough have worked, and she’s just watching Doctor Who reruns. You have time to be a little pampered.” When Remus hesitated, Sirius rolled his eyes. “Do you know how many people would risk life and limb to have a free cut from me.”
“Your humility astounds me,” Remus said dryly.
“And yet,” Sirius said with a smug grin, “you know it’s true. Now roll your cute little arse over to the sinks. I’m going to get that tea tree shampoo you love so much.”
Remus nearly groaned, but stopped himself when he caught a glimpse of Marlene languidly licking her lips, and he shoved a V at her as she gathered her bag to go.
“Don’t behave too much,” she called. “I’m locking up. See you tomorrow, Si!”
“Bye, love!” Sirius called after her.
Knowing he wasn’t going to get away, Remus gave in and rolled his chair over to the shampoo station. Just as he put the brake on the wheel, Sirius banged the shampoo on the counter, then stood in front of Remus, offering his arms.
Remus grabbed on, using what little strength he had in his legs to twist himself round to the chair, and eased down. Sirius grabbed a towel, putting it round the back of his neck, then adjusted the chair up a bit. Remus sighed as a cascade of warm water flooded over his curls, and he peeked one eye open at Sirius who was smiling very softly.
“You love it,” Sirius murmured.
“Shut up,” Remus groused. He let his eyes fall closed again as Sirius began a soft, gentle massage along his scalp. It was too good, and in the back of his mind he knew Sirius was carrying on far longer than he had for any client ever. But he said nothing.
The tea tree tingled pleasantly, and he was almost half-asleep when Sirius announced he was finished. Remus sat up as Sirius began to mop up his curls with a fresh towel, then he dropped it into the laundry bin.
“Walk it, or roll it?” Sirius asked.
Remus eyed the distance, then looked at Sirius. “How strong are you today?”
Sirius shrugged. “Hulk-levels, probably.”
Remus snorted, but allowed Sirius to grab him about the waist, and they began the stuttered walk over to Sirius’ style chair, and Remus eased back into it. When they’d first met, Sirius had seen Remus take a few steps on his own using the counter for support, and asked what it was like.
“It’s a bit like,” Remus said, furrowing his brow, “walking with your legs buried in wet sand. Your muscles know what they’re supposed to do, but everything’s heavy and unresponsive.”
Sirius had contemplated that for a long time, then offered Remus something of himself. “Bit like my hearing. It’s like listening underwater. There are sounds and tones, and with my aids it’s alright. If it’s quiet like in the shop, I don’t have any problems. But with them off, it’s mostly guess-work.”
Teddy’s deafness was profound, his own hearing aids only able to pick up certain frequencies, but knowing that Sirius could understand what it was like for Teddy—to understand in a way Remus never would—was a comfort. He knew his boy wasn’t growing up alone, even if Sirius wasn’t technically family.
With a small smile, Sirius ducked his head low as he measured Remus’ curls, tugging them down so he could get a proper length. “Don’t make me look stupid,” Remus complained.
Sirius cupped his cheek, then gave it a short pat. “Why would I ever harm your adorable aesthetic, love?”
Remus flushed, but said nothing as Sirius got to work. He truly was an artist, at nearly everything he did. He approached everything in life with a passion Remus rarely saw in people. Even something as a simple trim he took pride in—whether it was a working-class receptionist like Remus, or a super star like Gildeory Lockhart.
And Remus was pretty sure that was one of the things he loved most about Sirius.
Suddenly Sirius was directly in front of him, making sure both sides were even. He drew his fingers back through Remus’ hair far too many times to be actually necessary, then rocked back on his heels and gave him an almost shy smile.
“Sorted.”
“Got me gorgeous so I don’t embarrass you Thursday?” Remus asked, a little flustered.
Sirius rolled his eyes. “You could never embarrass me. But yes, you are now worthy of a fancy little art showing.” He wandered off, coming back with Remus’ chair and lowered the salon chair to the ground so Remus could ease himself out.
Sirius hoovered up the bits of hair, then ran his fingers round the back of Remus’ neck once more to make sure no stray hair escaped. “Give Teds a kiss for me, alright? I’ll pick you up on Thursday so I’ll come by a bit early to say hi.”
“If he’s still poorly…” Remus began. “I mean, you don’t want to catch it.”
“Catching it means I can not come to work and deal these people, so it’s actually incentive.”
“Only you’ll make me come to yours and make you soup and tea and fuss over you until you’re better, so it’s not incentive for me,” Remus said with a wink.
Sirius grinned. “See you Thursday. Early.”
Remus huffed, but grabbed his things and quickly wheeled himself out.
***
Teddy was better by Thursday. Mary and Peter were coming over together to mind Teddy for the night, Remus having been introduced to them by Lily. Mary had been Harry’s nanny for a long while now, and was now the new tiny Potter baby’s nanny, though she was off until James and Lily returned.
They took to Teddy well, both Mary and Peter fluent in sign which made things a lot easier for Remus when he needed a night off. Not that he took them often at all.
Currently he was easing into his suit, trying not to get overly flustered by what Sirius had done. He’d shopped online at a company who made clothing for wheelchair users, with specific cuts to make the suit actually comfortable and fit better sitting than standing. He didn’t want to know the cost of it, and frankly he wasn’t even going to think about it.
It was the first proper suit he’d owned in years, since well before the accident, and as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he was a bit stunned to see he actually looked alright. Like he could belong on Sirius’ arm.
He considered doing something about his hair after his shower, but he knew it was pointless, so he let his curls air-dry as he went to the kitchen to make sure everything was sorted for Teddy’s meals. He was just putting a few juice boxes into the fridge when the buzzer sounded and the lights flickered.
Before he could turn his chair, padded feet came stomping across the floor, and Teddy grabbed the door handle, flinging it open. With a delighted cry, Teddy flung himself at Sirius who grabbed him up and spun him round.
‘Hi Teddy!’ Sirius signed with one hand, bouncing him on the other arm.
Teddy’s hands flew. ‘You want to see my hearing aids! I got stickers!’
Teddy had taken to mimicking Sirius’ affinity for hearing-aid decoration, which left Remus scouring craft shops for the latest and greatest of tiny super hero, nerd, and Disney stickers. Last month it had been all frozen, and this month it was Lego Star Wars.
Teddy went tearing back to his room, and Remus wheeled into the lounge, grinning at Sirius. He was a bit stunned—though hid it well—at how good Sirius looked. Sirius was the sort to scoff at the idea of gendered items, and gender binary. He described himself as genderfluid, demi-male, which Remus could see fit him absolutely.
Currently he was wearing a knee-length, flowing black skirt and a white, form-fitted top. His hair was in a long plait down his back, and he wore a bit of gold eye shadow which complimented him almost perfectly. His hearing aids were also a shining gold, which matched, and he had a small clip at the end of his plait which glittered in the low light. He was grinning at Remus, though his brows dipped.
“Remus, you are hopeless.”
Remus huffed. “Oh what now. It had better not be the suit. You picked it out.”
“It’s not the suit. The suit is perfection,” Sirius said, waving his hand. “But the hair…”
“You cut it!” Remus defended.
“And you just let it dry. Honestly…” Sirius wandered off, and when he came back out, he was holding a pick-comb and a bottle of the coconut oil product he’d given Remus for his birthday that year. Sirius pointed sternly at the sofa, and with a huff, Remus shifted from his chair to the cushions as Sirius went down to his knees in front of him.
Pouring a bit of the product onto his hands, he worked it into Remus’ curls just as Teddy came back into the room. ‘What are you doing?’ Teddy demanded.
‘Making your dad look pretty,’ Sirius replied before going at the curls with the comb.
Teddy watched, his head cocked to the side, and when Sirius sat back with a satisfied nod, he asked, ‘Is that pretty?’
Sirius nodded sagely. ‘Very. Your dad is the prettiest one I know besides you.’
Teddy beamed before holding out his hearing aids. ‘STAR WARS!’
Sirius turned them over in his palm then smiled. ‘Do you have more? Can I have one each for mine?’
Teddy nodded, then rushed off, his little feet padding back a second later. Sirius by then had his aids out, and Remus watched with a growing warmth in the centre of his chest as the pair worked out the best place to put the Leia and Han stickers.
When the deed was done, Sirius put them back on, then turned his head from side to side. ‘Look good?’
Teddy grinned. ‘Perfect.’
Grabbing the boy up, Sirius plonked him down on the sofa between himself and Remus, and they made conversation until the lights flickered again, signalling the arrival of Mary and Peter. Sirius got the door as Remus got into his chair, then pulled Teddy onto his lap for his nightly lecture.
‘Behave,’ he signed sternly. ‘You be good for Mary and Peter. No rowing. Eat your veg. And early bedtime. Only one film, got it?’
Teddy nodded with a look that said he knew he was going to get away with far more than he would have any other time, and he jumped off his dad to say bye to Sirius before greeting Mary and Peter.
“I shouldn’t be too late,” Remus said as he grabbed his keys and mobile.
Peter gave a look to Sirius, then smiled. “Listen, be as late as you want. If you want to you know…crash elsewhere, it’s not an imposition. Just have fun.”
Remus felt like there was a massive prank or something he wasn’t in on the way Peter and Sirius shared a look, but he said nothing, instead following Sirius to the street and to Sirius’ car.
“I used to have a motorbike, you know,” Sirius said as he eased Remus’ chair into the back. Closing the door, he hopped into the driver’s seat and switched the car on. “It was so sodding punk rock. I had to give it up with all this godfathering business though.” He pointed down to a handful of colourful baby toys lying on the floor between Remus’ feet.
With a laugh, Remus shook his head. “I think fuel-efficient, four door cars are perfectly punk rock. Just like baby rattles.” Remus picked it up and gave it a little shake.
With a laugh, Sirius nudged him. “You would. But you probably think tea and biscuits are punk rock.”
“You’re telling me that you don’t think Sid Vicious sat his arse down every day for tea and biscuits?”
Sirius huffed, but didn’t respond, though he was grinning. Before long, they’d made it to the venue, Sirius having VIP parking of course with a valet who didn’t give a second thought to getting Remus’ chair from the car and bringing it round so he could ease himself in.
The new gallery was, indeed, on the ground floor. It was very post-modern, all windows and stone, a wide, expansive door and the inside was Cherrywood flooring and grey marbles. Sirius’ work, which Remus had seen in various stages of completion, was displayed on easels, on the walls, on stands, and even hanging from large chains.
Remus stared round in wonder, then looked up at Sirius who seemed a bit overwhelmed himself. “This is fantastic.”
Sirius glanced down at him, his cheeks holding a high blush. “Ah. Thanks, Re. I mean it’s…I’ve done this sort of thing before but it’s never been just me, you know?”
Remus reached out, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “I’m so incredibly proud of you.”
It was a whirlwind after that, Sirius dragged off over and over to meet various critics and influential art moguls and Remus found himself more often than not, sat in quiet corners watching the stylist mingle. He would be lonely or put off, only he found himself enjoying watching Sirius’ expressive face.
It was clear by his frown the place was a bit loud and from time to time he could see Sirius struggling to follow the conversation, but he was still in his element. He was describing his work, he was painting a verbal picture for people who wanted to know the hows and whys and the feelings behind it all.
Remus was just thinking about fetching himself a drink when a shadow fell over, and then he looked up to see Gilderoy there. The actor gave Remus a smug look before bending down low. “Well hello there,” he said, as though speaking to a child. “You got an invite, did you?”
Remus felt his jaw tense and his arm flex like he wanted to haul off and punch Gilderoy in the mouth. “Ah yes. Sirius did. How did you? I was under the impression Sirius turned you down.”
Gilderoy straightened, his shoulders going immediately back. “I had a standing invite from the gallery owner,” he said snidely. “For a moment I assumed you’d been brought to work, but I reckon that would be a bit pointless with your erm…” He eyed the chair.
Before Remus could say anything, Sirius appeared, his face drawn. His hand came down, a possessive grip on Remus’ shoulder, and he smiled sharply at the actor. “Gilderoy. Are you telling me with that winning smile you don’t have your own date? That you have to come and chat-up mine?”
Gilderoy stuttered. “The cr—,” he stopped and cleared his throat. “He’s your date? The receptionist?”
“Yes,” Remus said sharply, unable to stop himself. “The crippled, working-class receptionist.” He then flinched, afraid of what Sirius might think, but when he glanced up, Sirius was wearing an almost serene smile.
“I’m only lucky he finally succumbed to my charms. You see, I’ve been mad for him for years now, and he’s finally given in and decided to give me a chance. I can only be so lucky he won’t be put off by the likes of you and refuse to give me a second date.”
Gilderoy spluttered a bit, then turned on his heel and stalked off. Sirius snorted, looking down at Remus who was grinning, though tensely.
“Reckon that ought to do it?” Sirius asked.
“Fake being in love with me?” Remus offered. “We could have tried that ages ago.”
Sirius face fell. “I…” He cleared his throat. “Fake. Right. Excuse me for a second I…” Sirius tried to walk off, but panicked, Remus grabbed his hand.
“Wait. Did you… I mean did you actually mean you fancied me?”
Sirius gulped, letting his hand curl round Remus’ wrist. “Well. Yes. I thought I’ve been a bit obvious, you know?”
“Sirius,” Remus said, trying to be patient with the stylist and himself, “you flirt with everyone.”
“Yes but…but not like I flirt with you. I mean it’s my job to be friendly. But…” Sirius tugged on the end of his plait, then let Remus’ hand go. “Look, if you’re bothered I…”
Remus grabbed Sirius by his wrist and tugged him down. Sirius came easy, kneeling by the side of the wheelchair as Remus grabbed him round the back of the neck. “I’m an idiot.”
Sirius laughed. “Could have told you that ages ago.”
Remus shook his head. “I just didn’t reckon you’d be interested. You’re…posh and gorgeous and rich and you could literally have anyone you want. And I’m none of those things.”
“You’re nearly all of those things. You are bloody gorgeous Remus, and lovely and wonderful and…Well I want you,” Sirius said. “Have for ages and honestly I think James is going to kill me if I don’t try to do something about it.” His hand went out, the tips of his fingers tracing along Remus’ cheekbone. “So…can I assume you might fancy me too? A little bit?”
Remus felt like a tidal wave was crashing in his stomach, and he took in a shaking breath. “Maybe a little bit.”
Sirius beamed. “How about a dance?”
Remus looked round. “There’s not even a dance floor.”
“Lap dance, then?”
Remus flushed bright red. “Oh my god, Sirius.”
Giggling, Sirius brought his face in close…closer…right up against Remus’ cheek. Cool lips brushed against the skin there, and when Sirius pulled back, he cocked his head to the side. “Stay over with me tonight. Please. I’ve been wanting to get my arms round you properly for ages and I just…I’d like to give this a go.”
Remus gulped, but found himself nodding and tugging Sirius closer. “Alright. But you’re making me breakfast in the morning.”
Sirius’ grin could likely power the entire room for how bright it was, and he pushed his forehead against Remus’. “Deal. Because Remus for you…anything. Literally anything.”
***
Six Months Later
Remus cradled the phone, then spun his chair just in time to get a lapful of Sirius. His lips were captured in a slow, languid kiss and it was minutes before he could speak properly. Remus probably should have been worried that both Dori and Marlene’s clients were watching them, but the pair had become such a fixture these days that no one was bothered anymore.
“That was Gilderoy. He wants to book you for Friday.”
Sirius groaned. “Why can’t I be rid of him?”
“Because he’s a self-absorbed, persistent arse who won’t take no for an answer. Like someone else I know,” Remus said with a grin, and drew the backs of his knuckles down Sirius’ cheek.
“Oy, I am not that bad. And I’m much better looking.”
“Mm,” Remus said, and kissed him again. “That you are. But you need to get off me now. Your next appointment is about to walk in the door.”
Sirius sighed, but kissed Remus until the door opened, then eased himself off of his lover.
It was business as usual, really.
Ten minutes later, James walked in the door with his ten month old daughter on his hip, and grinned at Remus. “Alright there, Re?”
“Oh just keeping your lovely stylists in check,” Remus said with a shrug. He held his hands out, and quickly got an armful of the baby Potter who had her dad’s wild hair and silly grin. He blew a raspberry into her cheek, making her laugh and kick her legs, then she grabbed on for a hug, burying her face into his neck.
“I swear, Remus, you if you could market your baby skills, you’d be richer than my dad.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “It’s only for the ones I actually like. Isn’t it?” he asked the baby, tickling her tummy.
James leant on the counter, staring at Sirius who was brushing through his client’s hair. “You two ought to think about giving it another go.”
Remus rolled his eyes a little, but Sirius had a thoughtful expression on his face and when he caught Remus’ eye, he raised his hands. ‘Maybe.’
Remus felt something rush through him, hot and wonderful, because Sirius wanted that. With him. ‘Maybe,’ he agreed, and James laughed before picking up his daughter again and wandering back into the office.
When Remus looked back at his lover he realised something. He was no longer content. Oh the contentment was there, but it was so much more now. It was love, and belonging, and forever. And he realised exactly what that was.
He was happy.