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[theshabbiestofmen]

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text;

[doggedly]

how could you buy them with out advice

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[theshabbiestofmen]

what advice would you possibly give me

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[doggedly]

on whether or not they suit you
come on you know i'm brilliant at things like this
coolness &c.

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[theshabbiestofmen]

they fit
they're trousers
unlock the door i don't have my keys

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[doggedly]

are you wearing the trousers now

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[theshabbiestofmen]

YES
open the DOOR

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[doggedly]

please

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[theshabbiestofmen]

Sirius, open the door!

[That's shouted from the doorstep.]

[doggedly]

[Sirius is waiting by the door, because he is, as always, a little awful. He grins when he hears Remus' voice. He does not open the door.]

No, thanks, we don't need any! Shove off, little girl!

[theshabbiestofmen]

Sirius, for god's sake, I'm quite tired--

[doggedly]

Hm, that doesn't sound like a please--

[But he knows Remus well enough to know when to push him and when not to push him so, yes, he opens the door now. Just enough that he can lean on it and grin at Remus.]

Hiya, Trousers. Very sexy.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He scowls at him, but still huffs and comes inside. His trousers-- jeans-- are very sexy, very well fitted, well done Remus, way to listen to shopkeepers when they tell you what's good on you.]

And what have you been doing all day, then?

[doggedly]

[He gives Remus a wolf-whistle, for good measure--well done, shopkeepers--but relents in that as well a moment later, grinning.]

Absolutely nothing. All day long, nothing. It's been brilliant. Did you choose those all on your own?

[theshabbiestofmen]

Shut up. Why did you text me, then, were you just trying to alleviate your boredom?

[He makes a direct line for the stove, putting on a kettle. It's been that sort of day.]

[doggedly]

Did you choose those all your own, I said, why didn't you answer-- yeah, because I was bored and I wanted to know where you were and when you were coming home. And here you are so I guess it worked.

[He trails behind Remus, vaguely.]

What happened to you?

[theshabbiestofmen]

Oh, just-- an irritating day.

[He takes a breath and lets it out slowly.]

Anyway, no, I didn't. And I'm quite glad to be home, and even that you're here too. So.

[doggedly]

Even that I'm here. Well, that's high praise. I certainly feel wanted.

[He raises his eyebrows a little, but doesn't press on the 'irritating day'. Not yet.]

Going to do tea for me as well if I ask?

[theshabbiestofmen]

Of course.

[He sighs as he glances over at him.]

And I didn't mean it like that. Sorry. Just . . . irritated.

[doggedly]

Irritated with what? Bad deals on trousers today?

[He goes to one of the drawers and roots around a moment--not too long, because they're always well-stocked with chocolate. They have to be, in a house that Remus lives in. He picks out a bar without anything in it, just chocolate, and chucks that at Remus.]

Here. Sit down. I'll get the kettle when it goes.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He gives him a rather tired-- but grateful-- smile, and does as instructed.]

Just . . . irritated at this whole situation. Irritated that Voldemort is gone but we're still here; irritated that we're trapped in this stupid kind of limbo; irritated at . . . at life, I suppose.

[A little savagely he bites into his chocolate.]

Irritated that I've been here long enough to need new trousers.

[doggedly]

[He should be moving around, getting things together for tea--but instead he leans against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, watching Remus as he speaks.

He gives space for a beat of silence after Remus finishes.]

Well, they're nice trousers.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He huffs a laugh and bites into his chocolate again.]

She said I had a nice arse, I might as well show it off. Agreed?

[doggedly]

She? Oh, Merlin. Are you and your nice arse seeing her later?

[He turns away, finally, to get cups out of the cupboard, to go and find the tea tin. There's loads more to say, loads more that he wants to say, but for now, he leaves it. His sole concession is the compulsive way as he chews at the inside of his cheek as he gets out a spoon.]

[theshabbiestofmen]

Oh, probably not. What kind of tea do we have?

[doggedly]

Er, the Englishy breakfast one and the one that's a bit like mint tea but with the weird aftertaste. 'Probably not'? Why 'probably not'?

[He elects for the Englishy breakfast himself--which is probably what Remus will elect for as well but, politely, he waits.]