Two mugs - a short wolfstar fic
A sliver of gentle morning light peaked through the tiny gap in the pale curtains, making its way over to the slumbering Remus’ face. His nose scrunched, face shifting with displeasure and eyelids fluttering as he began to wake. He propped himself up onto one elbow, rubbing his eyes with the other hand. The room he woke up in was a cozy mess of clutter. A shelf full of books of all different sizes and conditions from muggle stories to wizarding text books to music magazines and a maroon record player that sat on a stool beneath the windowsill that never collected dust in one corner. Jumpers and his collection of cozy socks pouring out of the lazy dresser drawers and colorful quilts falling off the edge of the bed in another. His unpacked suitcase from resigning as a teacher at Hogwarts sitting in the middle of the room demanding his attention.
He gave a glance to his side to see a mess of wavy black hair and quilts layered on top of a fluffy white comforter hiding the rest of the weighed figure, Sirius Black. Yes, the wanted criminal that escaped Azkaban. The memories of the Gryffindor dorms where the portraits gossiped, the fire was always warm and inviting and the chaos never seemed to stop came back to him. He could see the faintest movement of the piled blankets as he breathed, he could hear his soft snores. The vision in front of him brought warmth to his ears and a heavy smile tugging at his lips. He slowly leaned down, using his fingers to brush Sirius’ hair to the side to reveal more of his sleeping face. He planted a soft and quick kiss to his temple that held affection and longing in it entirely. The bed creaked as much as his bones when he stood, leaving a dent on the outer side of the mattress. His knees, back and hip gave crisp pops. His muscles tensed and ached the moment they were put into action. It seemed the older he got, the worse his pain and the scars became. The years of werewolf transitions without proper care afterwards took a toll on him. When the cold of the wood floor soaked through his mismatched wool socks it brought a tingling shiver to his spine and goosebumps along his skin. He gave another glance back to the man peacefully asleep in his bed before he exited the cluttered bedroom with soft footsteps, leaving the door cracked.
His flat was on the smaller side. He came into the living space from the short hallway with his bedroom at the end and the bathroom on the right. Framed pictures hung on either side of the hall. James and Lily dancing in the autumn leaves and giving their purest smiles to the camera, a David Bowie poster that came as a special little surprise when he bought it from a small record shop that was filled to the brim with muggle music. A picture of baby Harry sent from his parents just before their passing. It brought feelings of suppressed grief to him when those pictures caught his eye but he never had the strength to move them even an inch from where they were mounted. Remus shuffled his way into the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets. The sunlight flowed through the diamond windows just above the leaking kitchen faucet.
Sirius awoke next. With the absences of warmth against him and the slight dip in the mattress he began to stir. He shifted, tossed and turned before flopping onto his back letting his mess of hair do what it pleased for now. Feeling the sliver of golden warmth paint across his face. One eye peaked to see that Moony had indeed left but he wasn’t gone. The crack in the door caught his eye. His lips curved upward into a smile as the sound of clattering dishware and creaky kitchen cabinets reached his ears. He took his time rising from the comfortable bed. Feeling the cooling fabric of the quilts. After the years in Azkabane he had learned to deeply appreciate the comfortable things including Remus himself. His hugs, his flat, his clothes, the smell of his cigarettes. He lingered for a while longer. A deep, content sigh escaped him before he slipped out of bed. Remus’ striped jumper and plain dark pajama bottoms kept him warm.
When he entered the kitchen the first thing he spotted was two mugs filled nearly to the brim, resting on the counter. Steam still emanating from them. The rich smell of coffee and nearly burnt toast filling the living space and his lungs. Next his gaze went to Remus who had his back turned, the crispy sound of a butter knife scraping across the surface of perfect toast filling his ears. He knew what shirt hung off the tall wizard just by the color of it. When Remus turned and their eyes met it was still a slight shock factor to see how much they’d changed in each other's eyes. They’d both aged, grey hair and all. Sirius rested his elbows against the counter near the mugs, naturally leaning closer to the other man as he looked at him. Admired him and all his imperfections. “Coffee?” came Remus’ voice with such softness that made Sirius’ skin tingle. He gestured to the two mugs in front of them.
I’d love any feedback/suggestions!! Thank you for reading.
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