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bbrandy2002 · 4 years

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The Getaway

Part Two

A/N: This is obviously a continuation of a birthday fic I wrote for @ao719 that is now 2 weeks late 🙈 I was dealing with stuff, dont judge lol The writers block and doubts were for real yo! But thanks to my Tumblr bestie, who wouldnt let me quit, encouraged me, talked me through this thing and gave me ideas, it finally all came together.

Anitah, I apologize for being so late and the silliness of this fic and if it's terrible. I still hope you had a wonderful birthday and are blessed with so many more 💜

A/N/N: Thanks to @burnsoslow for beta reading and literally a thousand other things.

Warning: A lot of bad language, a miserable Drake Walker and violence involving tasers, fires, animals and car accidents ... No one dies people!

**Drake and Liam belong to Pixelberry, Nikolas belongs to me, the driver and mailroom guy belong to @burnsoslow and Liam's secretary belongs to @ao719

Drake stepped out of the truck in a furor, cursing under his breath, to check on his damages. The front driver tire had fallen into a deep ditch, and it was evident by the thick mud it sunk into that it would be next to impossible to get unstuck without some assistance.

He shook his head, gritted his teeth, and the veins in his neck enlarged and throbbed. As he knelt down to assess the damages further, Nik hopped out of the truck and stood over Drake. With one glance, Nikolas clutched his belly and let out a loud continuous cackle that soon sent a storm of hot blood that seemed to collect in Drake's crimson-colored face.

And the laughter just got louder and louder.

And the laughter didn't stop.

In Drake's head, it sounded like a thousand Niks laughing simultaneously, each one with two horns, a pointy tail, and a pitchfork in hand.

His anxiety took over.

He stood up, and in an attempt to let some of his anger out, he kicked the tire with an enraged shout that echoed beyond the heavily-forested valley and sent flocks of birds in a frenzy.

The tire's air must have been over-pressurized by the drop's force and popped as soon as Drake's foot made contact. He fell back onto his ass with a heavy thud causing Nikolas to screech out in more laughter. Drake sat up into time to see the front bumper and side panel fall to the ground.

"I think your truck is broken, Uncle Drake," the prince chortled.

Drake's head whipped around and glared at the boy. "No shit! What the fuck are you even doing here? You're supposed to be on a plane to Paris."

Nikolas shrugged. "This sounded more fun."

"This isn't fun, you little asshole!" Drake jumped up and attempted to lunge at the boy, but slipped in the mud, caught his balance for a split second by grabbing onto a tree limb, then slipped again, before wiping out completely. "Son-of-a-monkey-fucker!"

Drake laid on his back, staring up at a large tree branch that hung overhead, praying to God the damn thing would just fall on him.

Nikolas walked over to him and looked down on the face of fury. "Is it time for dinner yet? I'm staaaaaaaving!"

"Nikolas," Drake groaned then took a deep breath, his back mud-soaked and achy. "How? How in the hell did you pull this off?"

Nik plopped down on Drake's stomach, causing him to grunt loudly. "Easy. I told my dad you invited me, and he let me go. He was happy you wanted to spend time with me." The Prince smirked.

Drake gritted his teeth. "And he just believed you? Fucking Liam."

Nikolas shook his head. "No. I got Neal in the mailroom to pretend he was you on the phone."

Drake lifted his head and glared. "You mean that grease trap that lives in the ambulance down by the river?"

The young prince nodded. "Yeah. Except he doesn't live by the river anymore. He moved behind the elementary school .. said it had a better view."

There was dead silence for a moment as Drake grimaced at what he just heard before jerking his hips upward. "Get the fuck off me."

Nikolas stumbled to the ground with an uproarious laugh.

Drake reached into his front pocket and pulled out his cell as he rose to his feet. He was dead set on getting someone from the palace to retrieve this little menace to Drake Walker society before he found himself tied up to a cinder block at the bottom of Lake Boogaloo. The issue with his truck could wait.

Liam and Riley would already be on the plane with Bastien in tow, so calling them right now would be useless. He pressed the contact for the palace operator, hoping to be directed to the mailroom; if Neal was part of helping get Nik into this, his shady punk ass could come pick him up in the renovated ambulance that served as his home and part-time blood mobile.

Pacing back and forth, Drake raised the phone to his ear, waiting impatiently for a ring.

"Trish! Put me through to the mailroom."

While he was distracted taking care of that, Nikolas was somewhat disappointed the trip was already over -- he had so many plans for his favorite uncle. With his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips, he leaned up against the truck in a huff. "This sucks!"

The sounds of leaves crunching and brush moving around nearby caught his attention. Nik's eyes widened in fear when the black furry coat of a creature with a white stripe down its middle could be seen scampering around searching for food. The boy gasped and pinched his nose as the animal's foul scent started to become thick in the air and made his eyes water. "Uncle Drake," he called out in a nasally voice, "there's a skunk."

With a scowl, Drake lowered the phone and scrunched up his own nose. He took one glance at the animal, who didn't appear to be a threat, then glanced back at the kid. "It's probably more scared of your evil ass than you are of it. Just keep your mouth shut and don't move." The call with Neal resumed.

"But, Drake ..." Nikolas whined, trying to plead for him to listen but could tell his uncle would have none of it.

Frantic to scare the smelly animal away, the young boy searched the ground for something to throw at it: a large stick, a rock, Drake's Air Bud soundtrack. Those things might scare the skunk off, but they posed a risk of it spraying before doing so. Memories of the smell of Madeleine's office when he had one shipped to her came flooding back. It took a month for the palace to lose that scent. The prank was hilarious until it affected his comfort.

A devilish smirk took shape as an idea popped into his head. “I need my backpack.”

Nik grabbed the top of the truck bed and stepped up on the rear tire and swung one leg over, then the other. He found his backpack and quickly unzipped it, pulling out night-vision goggles and a rope, then placed them beside his feet. He proceeded to move aside a bottle of industrial-strength super glue and the glass jar holding his tarantula, Barf. Finally, at the bottom of the bag, was the taser he “borrowed” from Bastien’s desk, and he quickly took it out. Holding the electrical gun in front of his face and twisting it around menacingly, he said, “Okay, Mr. Skunk. Get ready for a shocking experience.”

“No!” Drake yelled into the phone at Neal, “You can’t borrow my binoculars. What the fuck are you gonna use those things for at a children’s museum anyway?”

“The … the …” the man scrambled for an answer, “those dinosaurs … yeah … the dinosaurs. They’re, like, really tall, ya know? I want to be able … to, uh … see their faces and stuff.”

“I call bullshit,” Drake bit back, “I won’t be an accomplice in your bone watching … dinosaur or small boy.” He resumed his pacing, wanting to get the conversation moving along. “Now listen, my sister and brother-in-law are in Texas, Lord Beaumont is on a book tour, and the guards are off duty until the royal family returns. You are going to come pick up this kid.”

“Oh! I would love to come pick him up. He’s under 10, correct?”

Drake could practically hear the creepy mirth oozing from the man's gruff voice and spat back, "I'll be with him the whole time, you oily ass, ambulance-driving … è piccola cagna!"

"What does that mean?"

Drake knitted his brows; he didn't really know, just that Nikolas called him that from time to time, and the word just kind of stuck with him. "Just ... just get here now!"

"Okay, okay! I'm coming."

The call ended. "God, I hope he meant that literally, and I didn't just get that fucko off." He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned to Nik. "Alright, listen up, assh ..." Drake stopped dead in his tracks and stood, stunned, at the first glimpse of a taser-wielding Nikolas with the gun aimed almost directly at him, with a tiny finger wrapped around the trigger.

"Wwwhatcha got there, boy?" Drake's voice sounded calm and friendly. He even managed to fake a genuine-looking smile. Inside, however, he was close to shitting his pants.

Nikolas licked his lips and closed one eye to find the perfect aim. "I'm about to fry that skunk with extreme vengeance. One ..."

"Nikolas, no! Give me the taser." Drake cautiously approached him with his hand held out.

"Two," the small but menacing voice continued the count.

"Nik, don't do it! Give it to me now!"

"Three.”

"Noooo!"

The piercing sound of Drake's shout startled the skunk, and it scurried out from the thick brush.

Nik jumped up with the taser. "Hey! Get back here, asshole." He aimed at the fleeing creature and pressed the trigger.

___________

The instant Drake's mocha-colored eyes fluttered open, an acrid mixture of what smelled like ass, sweat, rotten eggs, and his mother's hairy feet had bubbled up inside his nostrils. The aroma was slightly overshadowed by the 1200-volt prongs that had pierced just below the protruding vein in his neck, causing him to seize up and then drop like a rag doll to the dirt, and muck that littered the ground.

Close by, he could make out the discernible sound of footsteps crunching through foliage and bark and sloshing over wet earth.

Drake's cheek rested against the cold, soggy ground, even as the silhouette of the young prince crouched next to him with his little head tilted sideways and blinking owlishly. He saw the child's lips moving but blocked out the little shit until the feeling of electrocution and muscle spasms had waned.

Drake looked at the small face next to him that resembled his best friend at that age. Liam is a good man, Drake thought; he was a considerate child, too. We had fun together. We always had each other's backs and would do anything to protect the other, no matter the consequences. Liam wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s just the best all around. So … how in the actual ass fuck did he produce the spawn of Satan?

Is there any chance he’s ... Neal’s kid?

Maybe Riley ... No, fuck, no. She wouldn’t.

The sky transformed from a brilliant blue to one streaked with gold and orange hues before Drake shook himself of the aftershocks that sparked through his body.

The metal prongs left behind two bright red spots, resembling a large spider bite and stinging like hell when he pulled them out. A thick layer of mud had dried and clung to his back, while a fresh layer adhered to his front. The numbness in his limbs had dissipated somewhat, but the pins-and-needles feeling remained. He was grateful the back spray from the skunk missed him, but the remnants it left on the nearby trees were stifling.

At this point, the only thing Drake wanted was a hot shower, a clean change of clothes, and to get stupidly drunk to the point he would pass out in bed and sleep for days. He scanned the perimeter and could make out the crystal-blue lake through a small clearing in the trees about 100 yards away.

Removing his filthy shirt and tossing it in the back of the truck, he eyed Nikolas, who was surprisingly quiet and subdued. The child was sitting on the lowered tailgate, swinging his legs, and trying to force his tarantula to eat a dead cricket. Drake rolled his eyes but was relieved the kid was staying out of his hair for now. He just needed to take a quick dip in the water, change his clothes, and hurry back in time for their ride home. Nik would be fine by himself for 10 minutes.

Drake let out a sharp tongue whistle that caught Nikolas' attention. "Listen up, kid. I'm going down to the lake real quick to clean up and change into some clean clothes." He opened the driver's side door and reached across the seat to toss his cell phone and wallet in the glove box while he continued, "You and your spider get in here and lock the door until I come back."

Nik dropped Barf in the jar and slapped the holed lid on it. "It's not a spider, Drake. It's a tarantula. A tarantula," he corrected with emphasis as he slid down from the tailgate.

"I don't care if it's your grandma's bladder control protection, get your ass in the truck, and don't move until I get back."

Stepping up in front of Drake, Nikolas sneered at an annoyed Drake towering above him. "I'm telling her you said that. And why can't I go with you? I wanna go to the lake, too," he whined.

Drake nearly doubled over in fake laughter. "There ain't no damn way I'm taking you. For one, you've ruined my entire trip. The one good thing I had in my life to look forward to, and you ruined it! And two, I don't know what the rules are about grownups, and nakedness, and with kids around, and all that shit. So the answer is no."

Drake could tell by the beady little eyes glaring back at him that Nikolas would not give up on this. He let out a heavy sigh. "Look. Do what I tell you right now, and when I come back, I'll build a campfire, and we can make up some s’mores. How's that sound?"

“Okay.”

“Really?” Drake shook his head in astonishment that he actually won that argument. Without another word, he watched as His Royal Highness happily climbed into the cab of the truck and gave a thumbs up.

Did that taser kill me? I’m dead, right? He did it. Do you smell that, Cordonia? No, not that fucking rank ass skunk. It’s the smell of victory! Drake Walker is a god! I have the power back.

Grabbing his duffle bag from the back, Drake hurriedly made his way toward the lake. He felt a little on edge, leaving Nik by himself for even just ten minutes, maybe even somewhat guilty. But he was caked in mud from head to toe, and the grime was starting to seep and burrow around certain parts of his anatomy. Nothing was worse than having monkey ass.

Within minutes, Nikolas sat on his haunches and looked out the back glass. He hadn’t wanted to show it, but he did feel a little bad for shooting Drake to the point it drew blood. Also for causing him to crash his truck. And even though it was funny as hell to watch, the second slip in the mud was kind of brutal. Perhaps a little remorse was starting to set in as the words of his Uncle Drake telling him that he ruined the one thing he was looking forward to repeated in his head. Tomorrow he would return to normal, but Nik was determined to do something nice for a change for the rest of the evening.

With the quick snap of his little fingers, an idea formed, and it would be the perfect thing to make Drake feel better. Nik unlocked the door, grabbed his spider, and jumped out of the truck. He headed to the back and rummaged through the bags of camping items laid in piles until he found what he was looking for: a lighter and lighter fluid.

“I’ll make the bestest s'mores ever for Uncle Drake. That’ll make him happy.”

Nikolas had never built a campfire before, but he’d seen it done in a movie once, and that was good enough in his mind to practically make him an expert.

Feeling clean and refreshed, Drake dried off from his dip in the lake and put fresh clothes on. Making his way back to the site, he caught a glimpse of thick, black smoke protruding above the trees and the smell of burning rubber that traveled with the approaching evening breeze.

“Nikolas,” he muttered as his heart crashed into his stomach. He raced back as fast as he could, fearing the absolute worst thing had happened to the Prince of Cordonia. “I knew I shouldn’t have left him alone. Liam and Riley are going to kill me, and I would deserve it. I just hope he’s not …” he trailed off when the site came into full view. It was worse than he imagined.

His eyes searched frantically until relief washed over him when he caught his first glimpse of Nikolas sitting under a tree, eating, and seemingly unconcerned by the inferno that had lit up the dusky sky.

Drake rushed over to him and lifted him into his arms and held onto him tightly. “Are you okay, buddy?”

Nikolas chuckled, “I’m fine, Uncle Drake.”

He lowered him back on the ground and started patting him down, looking for burns or injuries.

Drake let out a sigh of relief. “How? How did this …” he turned to look at the fire, then raised his voice. “Wait! You caught my goddamn truck on fire?”

Nik followed his uncle's gaped-mouth stare to the truck engulfed in flames, then screwed up his face. "Yeah ... about that. I think I used too much of that lighter fluid stuff building a campfire. But I made you something." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a s'more, licked the melted chocolate off the side, then proudly held it up to Drake. "The marshmallow is exactly the way you like it, too: completely charred."

Drake dropped his head into his palms and repeated a slew of curse words and sounds that were not even human. As badly as he wanted to destroy everything around him at that moment, to release a fit of anger the likes of which no one had ever seen in him before, it appeared Nikolas had beat him to it: There was nothing left around there to destroy.

He dropped his arms to his sides in defeat and looked to the heavens before surmising, “This is my punishment, isn’t it? I stole that taser from the guard as a kid and let Liam take the blame for it. I insisted Liam come with me in that boat during a storm, and he nearly drowned when it overturned. He got lost in the woods on my time. I pushed him too hard once during maze tag. I got stuck in that laundry chute all night, and Constantine took hide-and-seek away from him. This …” he motioned to Nikolas, who was smiling back at him with a big cheesy grin, “this is how he got me back for all of it. Well, you win, Liam! You win! I hope you are having one hell of a time in Paris, schmoozing and laughing your ass off, because I have nothing left in this world but this … hairy, lint-filled s’more with your son’s saliva all over it … and it’s not even toasted right!”

“I didn’t make it right?” Nikolas asked thoughtfully. “Hang on. I can make you another one.” He bent down, pulled out a marshmallow from the bag and rammed a mud-covered stick entirely through its center. Drake watched as Nik skipped over and held it next to the flames shooting out the window of his truck.

For several seconds, Drake contemplated whether he should just leave the child there and let nature take its course. Glaring back to the star-filled sky, he groaned, “You owe me big for this.”

Tugging Nik by his jacket hood to pull him away from the hot blaze, he startled the boy who then whipped around with the burning marshmallow and accidentally got it stuck to Drake’s shirt. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Ten minutes passed, and the two were on the dirt road heading back to the highway’s main stretch. After patting out the fire on his shirt, Drake planned to call the fire department to report the inferno taking place in the woods. He laughed wryly when he realized the phone was still in the glove box of his burning vehicle. And it appeared Neal’s skank ass wasn’t coming after all, so the pair would have to flag down someone and hope they actually stopped. Thankfully, Nikolas had his backpack on, and Drake used the night vision goggles to direct his way along the darkened path.

Hand in hand and approaching the main thoroughfare, Nik’s legs were starting to tire, and his droopy eyes looked up. “Uncle Drake, will you carry me?”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Pleeeeeeease,” Nikolas begged in a high-pitched squeal that grated Drake’s teeth.

Drake stopped with a huff and crouched down. “Get the fuck on my back,” he commanded, “you’ve burned and shot the front part of me, so your ass is gonna have to hold onto the back. And I swear to God, Nik, if you so much as drool on me, you can sleep in the woods with the wolves and bears and poodles. Understood?”

With a tired nod, Nik wrapped his little arms around Drake’s neck and held on. As they proceeded ahead, the prince asked, “Would you tell me a bedtime story?”

Drake grunted, “You wanna bedtime story? I’ll tell you a bedtime story. It’s an ol’ Bianca Walker original that she used to tell me every night called ‘Go the fuck to sleep!’ The end.”

Nikolas sleepily chuckled. “I already have that book, Uncle Drake. My dad’s secretary, Charlotte, gave it to me and told me to put it in my room. She said if my mom or dad found it, just to tell them you gave it to me.”

“Of course she did,” Drake scoffed, thinking about the other person who found pure delight in annoying him.

Through the night-vision goggles, the headlights of a random car could be seen driving by, and Drake let out a relieved breath, knowing they were so close.

The night couldn’t end that easily, though. A sudden sense of unease enveloped Drake, telling him that everything was not as it seemed. His steps quickened, and his heart pounded away in his chest.

Feeling like he was being followed, he turned on his heels, then widened his eyes.

A large brown bear let out a roar that echoed past them.

Drake shrugged his shoulders and muttered, “Yep. That’s about right.”

The survival training he’d learned from his Campers Anonymous group about bear encounters kicked in, and he completely stilled his body. That was until he heard, “BEEEEAAAR!” screamed over his shoulder and felt Nik’s body drop to the ground.

“Don’t move, Nikolas,” Drake ordered through a whisper.

It was too late; he was gone and headed toward the road.

Drake whirled around to see the bear on its hind legs, drumming its chest and licking its lips. “Shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Wait for me, Nik!” He took off running.

---------

Alyssa was headed back to Cordonia earlier in the night than she expected. With her hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel, she complained to her friend through the car's Bluetooth, “The guy showed up one hour late to our meeting spot, then drove through a McDonalds, asked if I wanted anything, proceeded to park behind a church and tell me he has condoms before the cops picked him up on a warrant! Worst. Date. Ever.”

Driving around a bend in the road, Alyssa slammed on the brakes when her headlights reflected off a small child darting into the road. As her tires screeched, she let out a deafening scream when a man came out of nowhere, followed immediately by a bear. The frantic man shoved the kid out of the way.

Though the brake pedal was pressed to the floor, the car collided with Drake, and his body flew onto the hood before falling feebly to the road.

The bear sniffed at Drake and batted him around a couple of times before taking off into the woods.

When Alyssa was sure it was safe to do so, she and a crying Nik both crouched around a moaning Drake.

_________

The following morning, Drake's eyes fluttered open. His vision was a little fuzzy, but he could make out a doctor hovering over him and a worried Liam standing with Nikolas at the foot of his bed. He tried to speak, wanting to know what happened, but was unable to open his mouth.

"Don't try to speak, Mr. Walker. Your jaw was wired shut to protect the small fracture you suffered from the car accident. You also broke both legs and sprained your neck. You have a long recovery ahead of you, but shouldn't need to spend any more time in the hospital. You’re a very lucky man. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will get the discharge papers and check to see if the ambulance transporting you to the palace has arrived. His Majesty has offered to allow you to recover in his home."

Drake took one look at a gleeful, bouncing Nikolas and shook his head as best as he could with a neck brace on and emphatically mumbled his indiscernible objections.

Liam chuckled, "Quit being so modest, Drake. I assure you it’s no trouble at all. Besides, it's the least I could do after you saved my son's life. And Nik here even offered to let you stay in his room to keep you company."

Nik nodded with a grin. “Yep. For the next eight to 12 weeks, it's just me and my Uncle Drake hanging out all day and night.”

Drake tried to escape from his bed but couldn’t move without use of his legs.

Liam walked around to the side of the bed and put his hand on Drake’s shoulder. “Look at you trying to protest. You never were one to accept charity. I told you, I’m more than happy to help. You deserve this and more.”

A knock at the door diverted their attention and a head popped in. “I’m here to transport Mr. Walker back to the palace, Your Majesty.”

“Perfect! And on such short notice too. So glad my secretary could arrange this ride,” Liam exclaimed. He glanced down at his injured friend in the bed and smiled. “You ready to go home, my friend?”

No! No! That’s fucking, Neal. He doesn’t even have a real ambulance. I’m not going. Somebody, anybody, heeeelp!

#Happy Birthday Anitah #2 weeks later #hahahahah #better late than never #drake walker #king liam #little shit #I'm so sorry this is ridiculous

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sunflower-swan · 4 years

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Wolfstar Chapter 16

A/N: Here’s what you need to know: I created this story for Writer’s Month 2020. Every day is a new prompt, and therefore a new chapter. This is an AU Wolfstar where Remus is a tattoo artist next door to Sirius who manages a flower shop. James and Lily are alive in this universe and own a coffee shop across the street. And to make parts of the story work with the prompts, Remus is about 10 years older than Sirius. It also takes place more or less in present time, minus Covid-19.

This is chapter 16 of a multi-chapter work. If you’d like to start from the beginning, here is chapter 1.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. I just like to play with them.

Day 16 Prompt: History

Rating: General

Word Count: 843

Tags: Lily advice, Remus insecure, fluff, pining

Chapter 16

Remus

Ed Sheeran, “Photograph”

And if you hurt me

That's okay baby, only words bleed

Inside these pages you just hold me

And I won't ever let you go

Wait for me to come home

Remus watched Sirius cross the street and enter the Flower Loft.

We’re both hiding in plain sight. Admittedly I’m hiding a bit more than he is. Being an unregistered Animagus may not be legal, but being a werewolf is a hazard to society. As long as one doesn’t go around shouting about the ability to transform into an animal on cue, then they’re pretty much safe. He can control his transformation, whereas I’m left to the whim of the lunar cycle. I rely on potions to keep others and myself safe.

Remus chuckled to himself. ‘Furry little problem’ Sirius had called it. That was one way to phrase it, he supposed.

The revelation hadn’t bothered her when she found out about it either. Sirius and her were similar in a lot of ways, which made the draw to Sirius more complicated. It had been almost two years since she had been gone. Perhaps it was time for Remus to finally let her rest, and allow himself to move on.

She would want me to be happy. Sirius definitely made him happy.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice Lily had brought him the third Cafe Mocha and piece of chocolate cake until she cleared her throat.

He turned to the sound. She was sitting in the seat Sirius had vacated moments before. Her elbows perched on the table, hands clasped together, and chin rested on her knuckles. She tilted her head to the side and gave Remus a considering half smirk.

“I’ve known Sirius a long time,” she said.

Remus nodded. He knew this.

She lowered her hands to cross her arms, and leaned forward. “And I know when he’s fallen hard for someone.”

His breath caught. Her stare bore into Remus’, and he looked down and fidgeted with his coffee mug.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean...I was already pretty sure, but Open Mic Night…” She giggled. “How much more obvious does a person need to be?”

“Ok --” Remus rubbed his face. “-- but…”

She lifted an eyebrow. “But what?”

Remus crossed his arms and looked away. “I’m too...he deserves…” He let out a sigh, and his shoulders slumped. “I mean...there’s a bit of an age difference here. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly a young pup.”

“Pfft! So? What are you, like, thirty-five? That’s only about ten years.”

Closer to forty than thirty-five. Remus chuckled. “Oh, Lily.” He leaned forward and put his chin in his palm.

“Besides,” she continued, “youth is no guarantee of longevity.”

Remus nodded solemnly. Look what happened to Silas.

“So what are you going to do, Remus?”

There it was. That was the question.

“Lily, I…” What? I, what?

“You listen to me, Remus.”

He looked up into her emerald eyes.

“I have seen Sirius go through Hell and back more than once. I’ve seen him have his heart broken over and over, and I’ve seen him bounce back every time.”

Over and over? “What do you mean, Lily? Over and over?”

She sighed and wrinkled her nose. “It’s...probably not my place to divulge all of Sirius’ personal relationship history. If he wants to tell you, then he can. But...but I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. And I’ve seen the way you look at him, you know I have. You’re not as unobvious as you like to think.”

Remus took a deep breath and leaned back as he exhaled. “You’re right.” It was hard to admit that out loud, but she was. “You’re right, Lily. But, what am I supposed to do?”

“What if you invited him over and cooked dinner?” she suggested.

He wasn’t a masterful chef, but he could cook a few things well enough. “Ok, and then what?”

Lily laughed. “Remus! Surely you’re old enough to know how dating works.”

It had been a while, but she didn’t know this.

“Well,” Remus said, “I guess I have some asking, and shopping, and cooking to do.”

They both stood. Lily came around the table and embraced Remus in a hug.

“One last thing.” She muttered into his chest. “Please, don’t hurt him, Remus.”

Remus winced. “I’ll do my best,” he whispered.

~~~~~

Remus paced in his living room. Lily had lit a fire under him, but he was still nervous. Sirius seemed to have quite a history of unsuccessful relationships. He didn’t want to be another in a long line of failures; it was imperative he get this right.

While Remus was a decent enough cook for himself, it had been some time since he’d needed to cook for anyone else.

Chicken? Chicken thighs? Pork roast? Beef roast? Sides...roasted veggies? Mashed potatoes? Some sort of creamy casserole? Dessert...pie? Cake? Ice cream? No...keep it simple.

After much deliberation and pacing, he settled on beef roast, roasted vegetables, and strawberry shortcake.

“Ok,” Remus said to himself. “First, ask Sirius over for dinner. Then, go shopping.” He stopped pacing. “I must be out of my damn mind.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 17

#writersmonth2020 #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #lily potter #mauraders #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #alternate universe #slow burn #fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter

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sunflower-swan · 4 years

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Wolfstar Chapter 15

This is chapter 15 of a multi-chapter work. If you’d like to start from the beginning, here is chapter 1.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. I just like to play with them.

Day 15 Prompt: Coffee Shop AU

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1448

Tags: humor, fluff, angst, smoking, cigarettes

Chapter 15

Remus

Otis Redding, “Cigarettes and Coffee”

But it seemed so natural, darling

That you and I are here

Just talking over cigarettes and drinking coffee, ooh now

Remus awoke on a hard concrete floor. His bones protested as he moved to a seated position. He leaned his back against the bars of the cage and let out an exhausted breath from the effort. Still seated, he Accio’d his wand, and began the arduous task of post-transformation clean-up. Once his skin was delicately pieced back together, he stood and turned around. It was only then he noticed Sirius lying on the ground outside the cage.

He stayed?

With a groan, he swung open the door of his cell.

“Sirius.” He nudged the man on the ground with his toe. “Sirius,” Remus repeated with a shake to his shoulder.

Finally Sirius began to stir. He let out an uncomfortable groan that only comes from sleeping on hard concrete. Unfortunately, Remus knew the sound well. One time he thought a mattress in the cell was a good idea. He had woken up to a destroyed mattress.

Sirius rubbed his hand over his face, then peered up at Remus standing over him. “Morning,” he croaked.

“Morning. How about some coffee?” Remus held his hand out to Sirius.

He grasped the hand, and Remus helped him to a standing position.

“You look like hell, Remus.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

~~~~~

After Remus took a shower and changed his clothes, the pair went across the street to the Cafe. Remus ordered the largest Cafe Mocha that James and Lily offered: an enormous mug of hot chocolate, with a shot of espresso, topped with an obscene amount of whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate syrup. Sirius ordered a small black coffee.

Sirius insisted on an outside table today. He chose a seat downwind of Remus, and as he sat down, he pulled out and lit a cigarette. He took a long draw with his eyes closed, then tilted his head back and exhaled so the smoke went behind him. Remus watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

Lily showed up with their drink orders. “Everything ok, fellas? Felt like a change of scenery?” She glanced awkwardly between Remus and Sirius.

“Everything is fine, Lily. Thanks. In about twenty minutes you can bring me another one of these.”

“Ok…” Lily raised her eyebrows, but didn’t question them further. She turned and went back into the Cafe.

Remus attempted to appear calm. He sipped his drink and watched his friend closely. Unable to handle the silence any longer he said, “I was bitten when I was young. Most employers are not generous or understanding in dealing with lycanthropes. It worked out to my benefit that I chose to be self-employed and can set working hours around the cycle of the moon.” It all sort of tumbled out at once, like word vomit. Better than actual vomit, that could sometimes happen the morning after. Might still happen anyway.

Sirius remained silent. He put out the butt of his cigarette and took a sip of his coffee. The bitterness caused him to make a face, but he took another sip.

“Sirius,” Remus pleaded, “please say something.”

“What do you want me to say, Remus?” He raised an eyebrow.

The irony of the question was not lost on Remus. Less than forty-eight hours ago, they had stood mere feet from where they were now sitting, and Remus had asked the same of Sirius.

“Fair enough.” Remus was shocked Sirius was sitting here at all. He was surprised when he found him sleeping on the floor outside the cage. Any sane person would have run the moment he transformed.

“Although...” Sirius tapped his fingers on the formica. “...it does explain the name of your place.”

The both looked across the street: ‘Mark of the Wolf, Tattoo Lounge’.

“I thought you were being artsy and deep when you came up with the name. Turns out I was wrong.” He looked back at Remus, and gave a lopsided grin. Sirius leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “You were being quite literal.”

Remus chuckled and picked at his fingernails. “Yeah.” He finally looked up and met Sirius’ sparkling eyes. “You’re one to talk though.” Leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table, he glanced across the street at the Flower Loft. “Dog Among the Daisies, Flower Loft. Bit on the nose, don’t you think?”

Sirius threw his hands out to the side and shrugged, before clasping them under his chin. “So we’re both hiding in plain sight. What’s your point?”

“I don’t have a point. Merely pointing it out.”

Lily appeared with Remus’ second Cafe Mocha, and a coffee pot to refill Sirius’ cup.

“Thank you, Lily,” Sirius said.

“One more after this one, Lils,” Remus added, “and some chocolate cake with that one as well. If you have some?”

“Sure thing, Remus.” She smiled and left the men again.

Suddenly, Sirius began chuckling. His shoulders shook and he played with his cup of coffee between his hands.

“What’s so funny?” Remus asked.

Sirius’ eyes were alight when he looked up at Remus. A half smile tugged at his lips. “Uh...good metabolism?” he quoted Remus' words from a few months ago back to him.

“It’s...not an untrue statement.” Remus shrugged.

The heavy weight in Remus' chest dissolved. He hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying it around until it was gone. Knowing Sirius knew about this part of him, and he wasn’t running for the hills, was a positive sign. His lycanthropy wasn’t his only secret, but it was the biggest one. Remus felt he carried more skeletons than most. More than anything he wanted to be completely open and honest. One thing at a time, he reminded himself.

“So, what sort of work would you have wanted to do if you didn’t have this...furry little problem?” Sirius asked.

Remus snickered. Furry little problem…? He glanced at the building which housed the Potter’s Wheel Cafe. “Well, I actually really wanted to work at Rising Phoenix Roasters when I was younger. See, they hire artists to design magical specialty latte patterns.”

“That sounds cool.”

Remus nodded in agreement. “Still,” he shrugged, “I’ve got the Tattoo Lounge. You know?”

“Do you ever think about what it would have been like to work at Rising Phoenix Roasters?”

“Well…” Remus rested his chin in his hand. “I imagine it might be something like…”

Remus sat in the back room. The ‘Creators Room’ is what the baristas called it. It’s where wizards like Remus designed intricate latte and cappuccino art. The baristas mused that The Creators sole purpose was to torture them with the most complicated patterns imaginable. They were right.

All of the Creators were highly skilled in the pour of a perfect latte. Occasionally one might prove as adept at customer relations as they were in designing, but they were the exception and not the rule. The owners tried to put Remus behind the counter once. It turned into a fiasco. No, he was very happy and content to remain in the Creators Room.

The sounds of porcelain clanking, steamers swishing, and people chittering, along with the smell of espresso brewing, served as the backdrop of his muse. He had been working on this dragon art for the past week. It’s wing flap wasn’t quite right yet, so he pressed on.

His alarm went off, indicating his shift was over. Without the alarm, he would keep working until they shut the lights out on him. It had happened once. Or twice. All things considered, there were worse ways to earn a living.

Sirius looked at Remus in wonder. “Wow,” he whispered. “So why didn’t you just open your own coffee shop?”

“Crowds. Not a fan,” Remus replied. “Plus, like I told you, a tattoo is forever whereas a latte is temporary. You drink it, it’s gone, you forget about it. Besides,” he took a deep breath and looked into Sirius’ eyes, “if I wasn’t a tattoo artist, then I may never have met you.”

He watched Sirius blush and look into his coffee. Then he ran a hand over the back of his head. “This is true,” he said with a smile. “I know you’re not opening up today,” he added with a sigh and a glance at the time, “but I am, and I need to get going.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Remus was sad to see Sirius go, even if it was only across the street. “See you later?”

Sirius stood and reached for his wallet. “Definitely. And Remus, I wasn’t lying before. I really don’t care about your...condition. It’s only one night a month. The other thirty and one-half days you’re totally fine.”

Remus heart soared at these words. “Thanks, Sirius.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 16

#writersmonth2020 #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #sirius x lupin #harry potter marauders #lily potter #slow burn #alternate universe #harry potter #fanfiction #fanfic

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