Chapter Text
It was always slightly awkward, getting to wherever the rest of the team wanted to go for their dinners. Most of them carpooled together, but Remus wasn’t in the team group chat and so there was no way that was going to happen. He was left to take the underground train and hope it was on time, which it never was, and then walk the extra fifteen minutes. The Three Broomsticks wasn’t ideal for that exact reason, but the guys loved it—mostly because the woman behind the bar was in love with all of them and gave them endless rounds of free drinks.
The train was down completely and he ended up walking the entire way, arriving only after everyone else was sitting down.
“Loops!”
Remus waved to Finn and pointed at their table so the waitress would let him through.
As he scooted his chair in beside James, Sirius nodded at him from directly across the table.
“You’re late, man.” James said.
“Yeah.” Remus said. “Just got caught up with something. Sorry about that.”
“It’s alright.” Sirius said from across the table. Their eyes met for a moment and Sirius half smiled, before he picked up a pretzel from one of the bowls in the middle of the table and threw it at Leo's head. “Hey, Knutty, pass me the honey mustard.”
Leo groaned. “It’s pronounced newt. Leo Knut. Like the lizard?”
James snorted. “You’re a rookie, Nut. And even if you weren’t, there’s no way you’re ever dropping this nickname.”
Finn leaned forward, nodding solemnly. “It’s too good.”
James scuffed Finn on the back of his head and said, “no one asked for your opinion, Harzy,” but he was smiling as he spoke. Finn knocked him right back, and soon Remus feared for their water glasses.
Remus loved being around the energy of the team, even if it was always practically bursting at the seams. It was so different from his apartment, nice enough, thanks to the Lion’s management, but still. Silent.
Most of the conversation flowed around him, game talk and love life interrogations. Some of it was funny, and some of it got a little too close to home.
“Loops, you have to come out with us next time we’re on a roadie, okay?” James waved around at the table. “What’s our first one? New York? You have to come, we’ll get you a girl and everything.”
“Look at that face,” Kasey said from a few chairs down, “It’ll be easy.”
There was laughter, and all Remus could do was nod and agree, laugh along, though all of his air seemed to be trapped in his lungs.
“Sure, sure, Kase. I’ll bet I do better than your ugly mug.” That sent the group into absolute hollers, but when Remus looked up, and the smile nearly slid off his face.
Sirius was looking right back at him. Remus’s mind was taken forcefully back to Snape’s hit, that intense, agonizing look Sirius had given him on the ice after he fell and couldn’t get back up last season.
But Sirius just looked away, flashing him a tight smile, and then scooted his chair back.
“Gotta piss, gents.” He announced so that some of the guys would scoot their chairs in.
Remus didn’t realize he was staring after him until James nudged his shoulder.
“Okay, Remus? You don’t actually have to come out with us.”
Remus blinked. “What? No, it’s—I want to.” He nodded. “Thanks.”
James raised an eyebrow, looking amused. “You’re welcome?”
Remus laughed, which turned into more of a throat clearing, and looked down at the beer he had ordered, rubbing his thumbnails against the label. Then, acting on a whim, he scooted his chair back, too. “I gotta go, too. Be right back.”
There was a second, as he walked away, that he thought he had maybe been too obvious. But when he looked back, James was wrestling with Harzy again, completely ignoring his empty chair.
When he entered the restroom, he ran straight into Sirius coming out. The first thing he registered was a hard, warm chest, and then hands on his arms, steadying him.
“Jeez, Loops. Gotta go that bad, eh?”
“Oh.” Remus stuttered, then tried for a smile as Sirius let go of him and leant casually against one side of the small doorway. “Yeah, I guess. Long walk here.”
Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed a little, the corners of his mouth turning down. “Walk?”
Remus realized what he had said too late, and sent Sirius another fleeting smile. “Excuse me.”
“Re—” Was all that Remus caught before the door closed.
Remus took a large breath and closed his eyes. “Stupid,” he muttered to himself. “Fucking stupid.”
He closed himself in a stall and waited what he thought would be an appropriate amount of time to have peed, and then unlocked it again, heart still racing and neck still hot.
It wasn’t that big of a deal that he didn’t have a car, but these were good guys and he didn’t want any of them to feel like they had to do anything about it. But, maybe that was too self congratulatory. Remus shook his head at himself in the mirror, and resolved to try not to think about it too much. Not to mention the girl thing. The pick up a girl thing.
Remus didn’t like to think about that, either. Like he said. They were all good guys. Great guys.
That didn’t mean he knew how they would react to him being gay.
Most likely, fine. But he wasn’t willing to risk it. No matter how much he wanted to tell them. Maybe one day that would change, but right now…right now he wanted them to be his family too much.
The rest of the dinner was mindless, excited chatter about the season. Excited, at least, until dessert arrived and Knutty made a horrible mistake.
“How’s the ankle, Pads?”
Sirius paused, fingers hovering over where he was about to pick up his fork. They fall back to the table along with the silence.
“Nice, Nut. Real nice. Way to bring that up right fucking now, while the man’s got his chocolate cake in front of him.”
“It’s fine, Pots.” Sirius says, and he even manages to laugh a little. Knutty, on the other hand, looks like he wants to melt into the table. “It’s alright, Knutty. It’s—well, Loops? How is my ankle?”
Remus places his own fork back down and looks around at the table. Every single face is turned towards him, looking on eagerly, waiting for news about their captain.
Remus swallowed. “We’ll have to see how you do in the next few weeks.”
Kasey practically moaned. “Such a media answer. Fucking Christ.”
“It’s true!” Remus protested. “I can’t make it heal any faster than it wants to. All I can say is that he looks good out there so far.”
Sirius leaned forward. “You said I was keeping weight off of it.”
“You are. That doesn’t mean that if you’re smart you can’t break the habit. Favoring the uninjured foot doesn’t always mean the injured one is still hurt. It just means you’re scared that it is.”
Sirius leaned back and Remus’ heart pumped in his chest. He thought maybe that last part had gone a bit too far, so he added, “I looked at it. The bone looks good, the muscles around it look good. You just have to trust yourself.”
Everyone seemed to be waiting for Sirius to answer first, but all he did was look at Remus with this funny little smile on his face. It was one Remus didn’t know what to make of. He didn’t know if he should return it or start up another conversation…
Sirius picked up his fork and said. “It’s good to have you around, Loops.”
And that was that.
~
A week later, Sirius was still favoring his good foot, and becoming more and more frustrated with himself every time Remus pointed it out. Meanwhile, Kasey’s thigh was bothering him again. He hadn’t said anything yet, but Remus could see it on his face every time he lifted his goalie mask for a water break during practice. Until Kasey wanted to admit that it hurt, all Remus could do was sit on the bench and watch the practice scrimmages. It was his favorite part, watching the Lions weave themselves seamlessly together, Coach Weasley’s voice loud in the background.
“How’s the Captain, huh?”
Remus looked up from the game to where Moody was sitting down beside him, stretching out his leg, prosthetic from the knee down and covered with random messages from all the guys—some not perfectly polite. Remus always laughed when he saw the millions of hearts Finn had drawn.
“He’s okay,” Remus replied. “Frustrated more than anything.”
“That’ll get ‘em.” Moody grumbled.
Remus nodded, and they both watched Sirius easily skirt Jones and Wilson with some hard turns, knocking the puck into the net off of the back of Wilson’s skate—much to Wilson’s distain. Sirius laughed afterwards. Remus looked away.
“I’ll get through to him,” he said to Moody’s good eye, the other taken out by a bad puck when he was a player. Now, it was covered by a patch—festively Lion’s colors. The boys had gotten it as a gift for him a while back. Moody had grumbled, but Remus hadn’t seen him without it since.
“I know you will. We’re just running a little slim on time. Two weeks. We need them settled in to themselves and to each other.” He got up then, just as the whistle signaling the end of practice blew, and slapped Remus’ back as he left.
The boys started filing past the bench to change—most of them anyway. James seemed to be attempting to play keep away with Sirius, only Sirius was idly bouncing the puck off his stick blade and over James’ head. It only took a few more minutes for James to get fed up, shoving Sirius playfully into the boards as both of them skated towards Remus.
Sirius nodded to him when they got close enough. “Here to look at me?”
Remus blinked. “What?”
Sirius raised his eyebrows. “My ankle?”
“Right.” Remus nodded. “Right. Yeah, come see me.”
Remus closed his eyes, mouthing a short fuck to himself as he headed down the tunnel ahead of them and back towards the training room. That was ridiculous. Ankle. Remus was there to look at Sirius’ ankle.
Sirius was coming through the door sooner than Remus expected, wet haired and neck flushed above the neck of his t-shirt from the showers. Remus was sitting at his desk with basically half a sandwich in his mouth. Sirius smiled when he saw him.
“Hi.”
Remus went to say hi, but all that came out was a muffled noise, which made Sirius snort a little as he took a seat on one of the tables.
“Hungry, Loops?”
“Shut up.” Remus finally managed as he swallowed. “It’s your fault I get such a short lunch. Keeping us busy.”
Sirius made a face. “I don’t want to keep you from lunch.”
Remus waved him off. “I’m kidding.” He brushed his hands off on his pants and motioned for Sirius to straighten his leg, “let’s take a look.”
Sirius stuck his foot out and Remus carefully began unlacing his shoe to slip it off, followed by his sock.
“You know you’re one of maybe three guys who thinks to clip their toenails.” Remus says as he presses his palm flat against the arch of Sirius’ foot, easing it backwards. “How does it feel?”
“Well, I want to look nice for you, Remus Lupin, don’t I?”
Remus looked up sharply. For a second, Sirius was straight faced, and it was just them staring at each other. Then he cleared his throat and smiled, nodding at his foot.
“At least my foot does.” He cleared his throat again and looked at one of the posters detailing when to ice and when to heat an injury. “It feels fine.”
“Fine?” Remus said after a moment.
“Yeah. No, like—twinging? It was doing that for a bit but it stopped.”
Remus shot him a look. The strange moment had passed as quickly as it had come. “I never heard anything about any twinging.”
“I said it stopped.”
“Sirius.”
“It stopped!”
“Well, you’re lucky it did. Let’s stretch it.”
Sirius was familiar with the drill and scooted down some so he was on his back. He bent his knee, allowing Remus to take his calf and rest his foot on his shoulder.
“I saw you were in Europe this summer.” Remus said, mostly just for something to say. He wanted to talk, to keep his mind off that he was basically leaning over Sirius who was just looking up at him, steadily as Remus messed with his leg.
“Yeah. Me and some of the boys.”
“No James? That’s a new one.”
A corner of Sirius’ mouth lifted. “You know how hard it is to pull him away from Lily sometimes.”
“Yeah.” Remus leaned back and went about feeling the tendons around Sirius’ ankle bone. His ankles were slim and fine-boned. They didn’t match the rest of his tall, broad build. Remus tried not to let his touch linger.
“What did you do this summer? You never said.”
Remus shrugged. “This and that. Saw Lily a few times, actually. Worked for the Cubs. Nothing like Europe.”
“I forgot. You’re a Cub Coach.”
“That I am.” Remus bent Sirius’ leg again and folded it so his knee was against his chest. “Ages six through seven and eight through ten this summer.”
“So, they can barely skate.”
“They can skate!”
Sirius shot him a look and Remus rolled his eyes. “Some of them can skate.”
It was silent for another moment before Sirius said, “I wish you’d skate with us sometime.” When Remus scoffed, he continued, “I’m serious. We do after-practice stuff all the time. You never join in.”
“I couldn’t keep up with any of you.”
“Moody can’t keep up with us, either, that doesn’t stop him.”
Remus let Sirius’ leg back down to the mat and shrugged. “I like watching.”
“I want to see you play.”
“And I want to see you play,” said Remus. “Which means you have to tell me if anything hurts, even if it’s just a twinge, and even if it goes away. Got it, Black?”
Sirius’ expression was shocked for a moment before it breaks into an eye-crinkling smile. “Yes, captain.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but he smiled a little, too. “Get the fuck out of my office.”
~
It wasn’t that Remus couldn’t skate.
It wasn’t that he was embarrassed to be seen beside NHL players.
It was that he wanted to be a player.
It was that he could have been, maybe, if he’d been a little different. A little taller. A little less wiry. A little more prone to gaining muscle mass. After a while, he had gotten used to coaches telling him he was skilled, but too small, that he’d never be able to take a hit at a professional level.
So, Remus had settled. He quit the college team he’d been playing on and started to get on track to graduate in physical therapy. It had been stay on the team, or have a secure life. He didn’t regret his decision, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t miss what could’ve been.
It was an odd feeling. Missing something that had barely been there in the first place.
It wasn’t that Remus couldn’t skate. It was just that skating hurt a little, deep down, right in the hollow of his chest.
It was one week until the start of the season and Sirius was skating better. Even if the timidness lingered, it was beautiful to watch him. It made Remus ache in an entirely different way, in a way that felt good. He guessed this must be what it felt like to watch Michelangelo paint, or Hemingway write. There were pictures beginning to surface online, too, from the open practices, as proof. Twitter was brimming with inside sources. Black was back.
The boys were restless, even in practice now, wanting for the points to matter, to pour their energy into something real. Remus had to admit that he felt a little restless too, a little frantic with wanting everyone to be healthy. He was probably assigning one too many routine check ups and workouts, but, right now, he couldn’t feel to careful. Not everyone was going to be at one hundred percent, it was impossible, but he could try to get them as close as he could.
“Remus, are you listening to me?”
Remus switched his phone to his other shoulder so he could chop the onions more easily. “Yeah, sorry, mum. I think the 2:00 o’clock flight should be fine. You know you guys don’t have to come.”
Hope Lupin made a noise into the speaker. “Remus. Of course we do!”
“No, I know, I—I mean I want you there, of course, I want to see you. I just mean—I mean if money’s tight, you know, I’m…It’s not like I’m playing. You’ll just see me on the bench.”
“Remus. You’re a crucial part of the team. Whether you’re playing or not. They’re your team.”
Remus let out a little laugh, scooping the onions into a pot to sizzle, “thanks, mum. How’s the painting going?”
He let his her rattle on about the figure and landscape classes she was taking as he made his bolognese sauce, at least until his phone started vibrating with a new incoming call. Remus pulled it away from his ear and stilled, his mom’s voice faint from the phone speakers.
“Um. Mum?”
“—and then Susan said that she thought my colors were muddled, whatever that means—oh, what, sweetheart?”
“I’m going to have to call you back, okay?”
“Oh, alright. Is everything—”
Remus hit the accept button and held it up to his ear tentatively. “Hi—hello?”
There was a rustling in the background for a second before a voice came through. “Remus?”
“Sirius?”
“Oh. I mean, yeah. Hi.”
Remus looked at the name one more time, just to make sure. Sirius had never called him before. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Sirius said again.
Remus couldn’t think of anything else. “Hi.”
Sirius laughed, “Hi.”
“Is your ankle okay?” It was the only think Remus could think of, besides his quickly forming fantasies of Sirius calling to confess his undying love.
“Yeah. Why?”
Remus opened and mouth a few times. “You’re calling me.”
“Oh, no—I mean, yeah. Yes, I am, but that’s not why.”
Remus turned off the stove, not wanting to get any more distracted and burn his dinner, and turned to lean back against the kitchen counter, heart beating a mile a minute. “Oh. Alright.”
“Is that okay?”
Remus heard the protesting noise he made before he realized he was making it. “No, yeah, of course, I just—it’s unexpected.”
“Your captain can’t call you?”
Remus can’t help but smile a little at that. He ran a hand over his face, thankful that Sirius wasn’t actually here to see his cheeks heat, “No, he can. You can.”
Sirius laughed, too, able to hear the smile in his voice. “Good.”
There were a few beats of silence, but Remus waited for Sirius to continue. It was like a particularly difficult play. Sirius always got it, but sometimes he looped around maddeningly on the ice, waiting for the perfect chance to score.
“Um.” Sirius cleared his throat, “so, there’s a team dinner tomorrow.”
“There is.” Remus had gotten the group message last night. “I’m going.”
“I know, I was calling because I remembered when we met in the bathroom last time and you mentioned that you walked to the restaurant and so I realized maybe you didn’t have a car and so I thought maybe you’d want a ride.”
Remus blinked.
“With me,” Sirius added in a whoosh of breath. “I could give you a ride. If you wanted.”
“I…” Remus nodded before remembering that Sirius couldn’t see him, “thanks. Yeah, that would be—that would be good. That’s really nice of you, you don’t—”
“I know, I know, but I want to. I—we should’ve asked sooner. The boys carpool sometimes, but my car’s all free.”
“No one wanted to ride with the captain?” Remus tried to joke, because Sirius just implied that they would be in a car together alone and Remus’ slightly younger self was freaking out while his present self was also freaking out.
“Guess not,” Sirius said. “I’ll get you at seven? Where do you live?”
Remus rattled off his address on autopilot, but even when the time and place was agreed, Sirius seemed reluctant to get off the phone.
“What are you up to?” he said instead.
Remus flicked the stove back on with a deep breath. “Just making dinner.”
“You’re lucky you’re not bound to the diet I am. I’m making chicken. And broccoli.”
Remus laughed a little. “You’re only angry about that because you can’t cook.”
“How do you know I can’t cook?”
Remus raised his eyebrows at the chicken stock he was trying to open one handed. He put Sirius on speaker and placed the phone on the counter beside the stove. “I’ve seen you in the team kitchen and I’ve seen Chef Molly’s face when you’re there. You can’t cook.”
There was a distant grumbling from the other end of the line and Remus smiled as he browned the meat. Then he was struck all over again by the strangeness of this situation. Sirius Black was on speaker phone in his kitchen.
“I’m interrupting your dinner.”
“No, it’s fine, Pads.” Remus didn’t want Sirius to go. It was nice to have a second voice to fill his kitchen, even if it was over a phone. When Sirius didn’t respond for a few seconds, Remus froze half way through opening a box of pasta. “I mean, you can go if you need to. I’m interrupting your dinner, too, so—”
“You think I look good, right? On the ice, I look okay? I look ready?”
Remus’ heart clenched a little and he set the box down, flipping the stove to simmer. He leaned against the counter again, folding his arms and staring at the lit up screen of his phone. “What do you think?”
Sirius huffed into the speaker. “Remus.”
“No, seriously. I can’t tell you anything if you won’t believe it.”
“Just tell me again.” Sirius’ voice sounded so desperate, so small, that Remus picked up the phone, like holding it closer would help somehow.
Remus bit his lip for a moment. “Sirius, your ankle healed beautifully. You’re skating like it’s what you were born to do. Have you seen what people are saying?”
Another pause, this one rather long, and then, so quietly, “What if they’re wrong?”
“It doesn’t matter if they’re wrong or right.” Remus held the phone closer and barely knew what he’s saying before saying it. It just knew that it was true. “You love to play. You’re an incredible player. Everyone can see that. It was a bad hit. They happen to everyone. Remember James’ concussion? That was horrible, James was horrible for a few weeks, until the fear wore off.”
“Because he loved it more than he feared it,” Sirius said softly.
Remus nodded. “Exactly. I—I did everything I could, and so did you. That’s all we can ask for, and that’s all the fans can ask for.” Remus took a breath. “You look good out there.”
They were both silent this time, letting everything sink in. Remus was struck again by how intimate this entire conversation felt. Him and Sirius, in their two years, had never exchanged more than a few words outside of hockey, outside of the rink, or the team. Remus was convinced this was a fluke, a one-off. Sirius was nervous. That’s all it was, and Remus was sure he’d already talked to James and Kasey about it, but Remus would take what he could get.
“So, seven?” was all Sirius said.
“Yeah, sounds good.” Remus cleared his throat. “Thanks.”
“You, too,” Sirius said. “Really, Re.”
Remus’ chest pulled at that, and he couldn’t find his voice again.
His kitchen felt all too silent after Sirius hung up.
~
Sirius’ Range Rover was a shiny black, and he had a red flannel shirt on behind the wheel but no jacket when he rolled down the window to wave at Remus from where he was walking out of his apartment complex. Remus felt suddenly funny in the team sweatshirt he was wearing, like it was too much, too obvious, even though he knew that some of the guys would no doubt be wearing at least some kind of team gear.
“Hey,” Sirius said when he got close enough. “What’s up?”
Remus raised a shoulder in a shrug. “Hungry.”
“Same here,” Sirius leaned over to pull the latch on Remus’ door, popping it open for him.
Remus slid in, buckled his seatbelt. Sirius had the radio on low and looked over at Remus with a small smile on his face for a few seconds before pulling the car back into drive and pulling out into the road.
“Getting nervous, eh?”
It took Remus a minute to realize he was talking about the season and not the car ride, but he nodded. “A little. Probably not as nervous as you.”
“Right,” Sirius laughed. “I guess that’s true. Your family coming in again?”
Remus looks away from the road and towards him in surprise. “I—yeah.” He hadn’t know Sirius was even aware Remus’ family had ever come at all. “Yeah, on Thursday. So, what, two days from now.”
“Got good tickets for the game on Friday, I hope.”
“Good enough.”
There was an awkward silence where, had it been anyone else, Remus should have been asking Sirius if his parents were flying in, but he didn’t dare. They didn’t talk about Sirius’ family. That was a rookie rule, one of the first things you learned. Don’t take the last chocolate chip cookies from James, don’t touch Kasey’s blocker and glove, and don’t ask the captain about his family.
“You only have to ask for the box, you know. Any of the guys would help you out.”
Remus nodded, but he knew he’d never do that. He didn’t like asking for more than he needed.
With the silence that filled the car over the radio, Remus realized how much he relied on the surrounding buzz of hockey when he talked to any of the guys on the team. They were friends, but Sirius was and—Remus was fairly sure—always would be a half worshipped idol in his book. It was hard to speak to him on a normal level sometimes, and especially hard when he kept looking over at Remus and smiling the smile that girls made signs for to hold up at the glass for him to see. Remus couldn’t help but smile back, and then they were talking about James’ spin-o-rama in practice and smiling rather stupidly at each other.
Remus had no fucking idea what it all could mean.
“Thanks for the ride,” Remus said as Sirius parked, the car rolling forward a little with his slightly too hard stop. “Beats the stuffy undergrounds.”
Sirius chuckled lightly. “You need a car, man.”
Remus shrugged, trying to neatly avoid the topic altogether by getting out of the car.
He was early for the first time in his life, and only the rookies had arrived yet, shuffling awkwardly outside the restaurant before they saw Sirius and straightened up, some smiling, some paling. Remus could sympathize. It was hard to get used to Sirius.
“Hey, boys, alright?” Sirius said, holding his hand out for a few hello’s. “Let’s sit down, yeah? We can order some chips and salsa at least, me and Re are fucking starving.”
Leo nodded. “Yeah, okay.” Then, to Remus, “Hey, Loops.”
“Hi, Nut.” Remus grinned when his eyes rolled at the nickname. “Gonna make us order you a drink or do you think you have the balls to use your fake yourself this time?”
Sirius let out a snort and sent Remus an approving look as he held the door open for him. Remus ducked inside so he could hide how his cheeks flushed with pride.
James arrived by squeezing Remus’ shoulders from behind and making him jump so hard that he spilled his margarita. James cracked up and Sirius calmly slid his own drink over to him, which was just a few sips in.
Remus shook his head. “You should keep it. That one was almost empty and if I have another…who knows what I’ll tell you.”
Sirius just pushed it a little further towards him and flagged the waitress down for another. “I’d love to hear your secrets, Fruit-Loops. You can trust me.”
Remus had been left blinking as Sirius turned and put his brightest smile on for the waitress, who fell for it immediately. He was sure that in no tim the rest of Sirius’ drinks would be mysteriously free of charge.
That dulled Remus’ high, just a little bit. It wasn’t like he never watched Sirius flirt with girls. He’d seen it more times than he could count. He’d been at the table, watching over Finn, usually, who couldn’t handle his alcohol, and Sirius would be at the bar, smiling at some girl and leaning down so she could whisper something in his ear. He’d seen the way Sirius kissed. It was like the way he played hockey. Remus usually felt weird looking and looked away after a few seconds, chest burning.
He’d seen it more times than he could count, but it didn’t stop it from settling heavy in his chest. Sometimes, he almost thought it would be better if Sirius got a girlfriend. Someone Remus could get to know, to come to like. It would be better than secretly hating every random girl who he didn’t have a clue about like some insane super-fan.
Remus took a sip of Sirius’ drink, just for something to do other than watch the girl giggle. Then, he pushed it away. Maybe he could trust Sirius, but he definitely didn’t trust himself. He switched to guacamole instead.
“How’s Lily, Pots?” He turned away from Sirius completely and looked at James, “Haven’t seen her in a bit.”
James made a weird choking-on-his-drink-or-maybe-some-chips noise and coughed for a minute before speaking. Remus, and a few others, watched him with a laugh on their lips.
Remus watched Kasey slap him on the back a few times. “You okay, bud?”
“I’m good.” James wheezed. “She’s good. She’s—yeah, she’s good. She’s good. I’m good.” He cleared his throat. “We’re good.”
Remus raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know what was up, but he was definitely texting Lily when he got home.
“Remus.” Finn leaned over, much too close for Remus’ liking, his brown eyes large.
“Yeah, Harzy?”
Finn shook his head solemnly. “What if I never block a puck again?”
Remus shook his head. “Harzy—”
“What if,” Finn's eyes got bigger and he looked dazedly up into the ceiling. His drink was tipping dangerously close to the rim of his glass. “What if I go from being Finn O’Hara to Finn No’Care-a?”
“Um.” Remus laughed, and then he heard a similar noise from his left and looked at Sirius, sitting at the table. They both burst into laughter. Remus reached over and took the dangerously sloshing drink out of Finn's hand. “Okay, I think you’re done for the night, Harz.”
Finn slumped back in his seat, only to be pulled in by Timmy, who had been traded to them last year, the same year as Finn, from the Owls. They had been in developing camp together in high school and Remus liked their dynamic. Remus had always thought they’d make a good defense pairing, if Finn wasn’t a winger.
“Now, you’ve got two drinks in front of you.” Remus looked up at Sirius. He was closer than expected, and his pupils looked large and dark, but his smile was soft. He tilted his head to the side. “If you still care to share those secrets.”
Remus laughed, tracing a bit of salt off one of the rims with his thumb and licking it. Sirius watched for a second before he looked down at his tacos. “I don’t know,” Remus said. “I’m a pretty open book. I’m surprised you want to know anything at all.”
This was new, too. Sirius, leaning into him, asking him questions about himself—himself, not hockey.
Sirius looked up at him again, brows pulled low this time. “Why surprised?”
Remus shot him a look that he hoped said, because you said barely two words to me for the first year you were here, and after that we talked about hockey. But, to be completely fair, Remus wasn’t sure how much he himself used to be able to stand having conversations with Sirius. In the very beginning, Sirius had been nothing more than the super star who Remus had loved enough to splurge on his jersey for. A jersey that was now tucked carefully away in his drawer, only to be worn when he sure he was completely alone and not expecting any visitors.
“Oh.” One corner of Sirius’ mouth lifted, a little sadly. “Yeah. I wasn’t very friendly in the beginning, was I?”
“I wouldn’t say not friendly.” Remus stirred the drink, took a sip. “You had a lot of pressure on you. Still do. I can’t imagine what that would be like.”
Sirius laughed a little, a dry thing. “Right.”
“I—No, that—” Remus searched frantically for words. “Sorry, that’s probably not what you want to talk about right now. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up—you need a clear head right now.”
“My head is anything but clear right now.” Sirius sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.
“Uh-oh. Sirius Black hair flip is happening over here.” James leaned down between Remus and Sirius, seemingly on his way to the bathroom. “Is everything okay, you two?”
Sirius elbowed James gently in the ribs. “Fuck off, Pots.”
James laughed, messing up Sirius’ hair completely with a hard rub. Remus almost wanted to look away. Sirius’ hair was a particular highlight from Remus. It was dark, and thick, and wavy, and it stopped around his ears now but by the end of the season it would be curling at the base of his neck. Remus huffed and tried to subtly watch Sirius fix it with his fingers.
It was taboo to say anything aloud, but Remus silently hoped he’d see a Cup ring there on those fingers at the end of this season.
Remus sighed. At least they were back to hockey, to familiar territory that didn’t get Remus’ hopes up, nor let them down. It was even. It was safe.
“What can I do?” Remus asked.
Sirius blinked up at him, giving his hair one last push to the side. “What?”
“To clear your head. I don’t want you worrying about anything you don’t have to worry about. What can I do?”
Sirius sat forward in his chair and regarded Remus with eyes that looked slightly disbelieving. Remus took another sip of his drink and raised his eyebrows.
“I…I don’t know, the team—”
“No, what do you need?”
Sirius opened and closed his mouth a few times. With each time, his eyes looked a little more at a loss. “We need to—”
“You,” Remus said. “You need to…?”
Sirius laughed, “Remus, it’s not about me.”
“It’s about you when you need it to be, and right now you do.”
Sirius’ tight smile hadn’t fully faded. “You should be a coach.”
“Sirius, you aren’t going to be able to do anything with the weight of the world on your shoulders. You just said it isn’t about you. You’re right, but only in that it isn’t all up to you. It isn’t all on you. Any of these guys would tell you that.”
Remus couldn’t have said where half of this was coming from. It was everything he’d ever thought about Sirius’ silences, about his intense superstitions and routines, about his temper on and off the ice, blaming everything on himself. He’d blame the alcohol, but he was fairly sure it was also his proximity to Sirius in general.
“You care.” Sirius said, and it didn’t sound surprised or defensive. He sounded—happy, almost.
It was so close to the truth. Remus didn’t just care for Sirius, but he couldn’t say that. The happy notes in Sirius’ voice let Remus be glad for the alcohol in his system, however, becomes it enabled him to give the safer reply that he did.
“You’re my favorite player,” Remus said simply, and a bright smile overtook Sirius’ face.
“I didn’t know that.”
Remus ran a hand over his hot cheek. “Yeah, that was probably for the better.”
Sirius laughed loudly, drawing some looks and pressed his forehead onto his folded forearms onto the table for a minute.
“Shut up,” Remus laughed.
“I can’t believe you told me. I mean, I’m fucking glad, I’m never going to let you forget it, but—”
“Fuck off,” Remus covered his eyes briefly before laughing again. “It’s—I’m trying to tell you you’ve got this.”
“Why are we laughing without me? Is Loops funny and I didn’t know it?” James leaned in, arm thrown around Kasey’s shoulder, jostling him so his fork missed his mouth and streaked his cheek.
“Pots,” Kasey said. “Get a grip, I’m fucking eating.”
“Sorry, babe.” James leaned past him, closer to Sirius and Remus. “But seriously, why are we laughing, I need to be included in everything.”
“Oh, we know.” Sirius said, and glanced over at Remus like it was the two of them in on a joke together. Remus knew he would be thinking about that look for a while.
For the majority of the rest of the dinner, Remus was pulled into a strange debate over who would throw the team Christmas party this year with Nut and Harzy. The whole time though, Remus could practically feel the heat of Sirius next to him. His lost eyes when Remus asked him to think of himself first were burned into Remus’ memory. The knowledge that he was going to drive home with Sirius in a dark car after this made him jumpy with adrenaline. It was practically the way he felt before a game, the way he felt about the season opener on Friday.
When it was finally time to go, Remus half wondered if Sirius would be quiet about them riding together, although he wasn’t sure why. Maybe so the other guys wouldn’t ask.
But when everyone was clustered out front and saying goodbyes, Sirius was in the middle of it all and flipping his keys around his finger. He looked at Remus with raised eyebrows.
“Ready?” he asked.
Remus tried not to let his surprise show, and nodded. “Yep.”
“Wh—” James looked back and forth between them with exaggerated swivels of his head. “Fruit-loops riding with captain?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Do my ears deceive me?”
“Yes, yes, alright.” Sirius held his hand out and James took it, slapping his back with the other. “Goodnight, Potty.”
Once out of the bright lights of the restaurant and walking back to the parking lot, Sirius let out a long huff, and at Remus’ look, smiled.
“Team energy, you know?”
Remus nodded. “Yeah.”
“Good night, though.” Sirius clicked his keys and his car chirped in the distance, the back lights blinking to life in the darkness.
“It was. It’s always good.”
“You weren’t with any other team before us, were you?” Sirius asked.
Remus shook his head as they reached the car. “Just the Lions.”
“Was this always what you wanted to do?” Sirius’ question was quiet while they both got in and shut the doors.
Remus took the break from his honest, intense gray eyes to take a breath. This was small talk, obviously, but Remus couldn’t deny that he liked that Sirius wanted to know.
“Sort of. This is what makes money.”
Sirius looked at him. “But before…”
Remus tried to smile a little. “Doesn’t everyone want to be you, at least a little?”
“You wanted to play?” Sirius sat up straighter, turned his body more towards Remus. “Did you play?”
“Growing up and in college, yeah.” Remus looked down. Everything was getting a little close to that sort spot he’d been thinking about a lot lately. “I don’t exactly have your build though, do I? My coach wasn’t shy about letting me know that.”
Sirius was silent and it occurred to Remus that he might feel awkward for asking now, and so he added, “He did me a favor, really. It’s not a big deal. I love my job.” Which was true. He thought he was probably one of the luckiest people in his line of work that there was. He had a close, team-based relationship with nearly all of the players. Now he was sitting in Sirius Black’s car. He did love his job.
“Again.” Sirius started the engine, “Now you really have to play with us.”
Remus laughed lightly. “It’s still a little bit of a…a hard thing. For me.”
“Oh.”
“But, one day, I hope, yeah. Sure. I’d like that.”
“Remus, I’m sorry—”
“No, no,” Remus assured him. “That’s not what I meant. Honestly, it’s okay. It means a lot that your even asking.”
Remus saw Sirius nod from the corner of his vision, the road lit by his headlights in front of them.
“Tonight was nice.” Sirius said again. Then, he coughed a little. “And not just…you know, the team. What you said. To me.”
“It’s no problem.”
“I know. I just—I don’t get too much of that. It was always, you know, do better, and it was just me out there when…you know.” Sirius coughed again, a little clearing of his throat sound. “When I was growing up.”
Remus only barely stopped himself from whipping his head around to look at Sirius. He’d never heard something like that. In all the interviews he’d watched, in all the dinners he’d sat through.
Rookie rule number one. You don’t ask the captain about his family. Of course, Remus had always assumed he’d had it rough. He’d seen Sirius’ family at games. They were intense. Horribly so. They were exhibit A of stereotypical hockey parents. Yelling at the other boys, correcting plays, correcting Coach.
An apology didn’t feel like the right response. Sirius wouldn’t want pity. But Remus didn’t want to brush over it like it was nothing either. It felt like a seed of trust, and Remus had no idea what he had done to deserve such a thing, but he was going to be careful with it.
“Well, I’m here. Whenever you need me.”
Remus would drop everything for Sirius Black, star of the Gryffindor Lions, he had always known that. Only, right now, it also felt like he’d drop everything for Sirius, his captain who put too much pressure on himself. Maybe, even, in this moment at least, his friend.
He saw Sirius glance at him and looked back, offering a little smile.
Sirius’ jaw was set, though, and his eyes flicked all over the road, knuckles right on the steering wheel. It was like he didn’t know what to do with a comment like that, which made Remus want to shower him in them. Sirius jerked his chin at the windshield. “This is you, right?”
“I—Oh, yeah.” Remus felt like he was being yanked out of a daze, some weird dream, as Sirius pulled up in front of his apartment complex. “Thanks again, for the ride.”
He went to open his door, when suddenly there was a hand on his arm.
“Remus.”
Remus turned.
“Um.” Sirius looked at his hand around Remus’ arm, then the Lion’s logo on his sweatshirt, and let go. “Um, yeah. Sorry, yeah. See you in practice.”
Remus blinked at him, he opened his mouth to say something, but then Sirius turned forward in his seat and looked out the driver side window, away from Remus.
“Yeah.” Remus felt shaky from the strange and rapid shift in moods. “See you.”
Sirius drove away mere seconds after Remus closed his door, making Remus stumble back a step from the car.
He didn’t know what had just happened, but he knew he’d be thinking about this entire night for a while.
His apartment felt especially chilly compared to the warm space of Sirius, when he got inside.