Beginnings

Sirius is contemplating the rather odd object in his hand. He taps it lightly with his fingernail and he can faintly hear a springy noise coming from inside it. “Remus, I don’t understand why we have to do this.”

“Sirius, we have to act like Muggles for the neighbours.” Remus puts down the chair he appropriated from the kitchen and takes the object out of Sirius’s hands. “And this is all part of being a Muggle.”

“Candles work just as fine as that ... thing. What was it called again?”

“A light bulb. And we can’t use candles, they’re old-fashioned.” Remus stands on the chair and reaches up to unscrew the old light bulb.

“You should love them, then.” Sirius stands near Remus, just in case he falls off. He notices that if he angles his head in just the right way, he gets a wondrous view of Remus’s arse.

“I am not old-fashioned.” Remus makes a noise as he reaches for the bulb.

“No, you’re right. Just old.”

“It’s stuck.”

“What?” Sirius is rather distracted by the view; it is hard to pay attention.

“I’m not tall enough, can you do it?”

Sirius groans. “I’ll break it.”

Remus gets down. “Go on.”

Sirius mutters to himself as he tries to unscrew it. “Why can’t we just do this by magic?”

“Neighbours.”

“Oh yes, the precious neighbours. You know, Remus, we should invite them over. And you could all get married and have lots of Muggle babies and prance around changing all these stupid, idiotic lamp bulbs and then I would be sitting outside. In the rain. Moping.”

“Light, not lamp. And we should invite them over.”

“No, we shouldn’t.” Sirius struggles for a few moments with the bulb. He lets out a cry of pain and topples off the chair. Remus tries to catch him, but instead, the both of them fall backward and the back of Sirius’s head smashes Remus in the face.

“See, Moony? This is why we should have got that place in Hogsmeade,” Sirius says as he sits up and surveys his damaged hand. There is a thin shard of glass in it. He winces as he pulls it out. “Remus?” He turns to look at the other man.

Remus is still lying on the ground, clutching his nose. Sirius scrambles off of him and kneels next to his head. “Are you alright?”

“I hate you, Sirius.”

“Oh good, you’re fine.” Sirius crosses his legs and tries to pry one of Remus’s hands off of his face. “Let me see,” he says.

Remus takes away his hands and sits up gingerly. “Is it bad?” he says thickly. There is a little blood dripping from his nose.

“No,” Sirius says finally.

“Why’d you take so long to say no?”

“I didn’t,” Sirius replies. He takes Remus’s hand, then winces.

“What happened to your hand?”

“The stupid light bulb, Remus. Remember how I fell on you and crushed your face? It tried to attack me.”

“You crushed my face? You said it was fine!” Remus’s voice is getting higher with every syllable he utters. “You cock!”

“Well, you should have caught me properly.” Sirius grins at him. “Come on, it’s not that bad.” He moves closer to Remus and puts an arm around his waist. “You’re still very handsome.”

“You’re getting blood on my shirt.” Remus is pinching the bridge of his nose. He can still taste blood.

“Remus, I was trying to be romantic.”

“With the blood?”

“No, with the saying that you are still handsome. Very handsome in fact.”

“Yes well, I can’t kiss you with blood all over my face.”

“You could, it would just be disgusting.” Sirius smiles and kisses him on the forehead. “Come on, I’ll get my wand and fix your nose.” He stands.

“You can shove that wand up your arse, Sirius.” Remus glares at Sirius. “And not in a fun way.”