theshabbiestofmen | ic contact;

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.]

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?

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.

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?

Of course.

[He sighs as he glances over at him.]

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

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.

[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.

[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.

[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?

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.]

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

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.]

Englishy breakfast one, by all means.

[He waves a tired hand.]

And because I don't really have the energy for romance.

Oh, come on, everyone's got the energy for romance.

[dismissively, he doles out the tea, though he does have the time to spare Remus a sceptical look, one eyebrow cocked.]

Now you're just making excuses.

I am not. I'd have to make excuses to go into the shop again and again, and she'd only be there a fourth of the time, and then what if it turns out she doesn't like me like that at all, or she's got a boyfriend or a girlfriend or whatever? It's a fair bit of effort for a lot of potential of failure.

Well, she did tell you you've got a nice arse. People don't just throw that compliment around loosely.

[People who aren't Sirius Black don't, anyways. Details. He goes for the kettle as it begins to whistle.]

Anyway, it's always worth a shot. That's like saying, oh, I'm skipping tea, because I might burn my mouth. You might, but you might not. And it might actually end up being worth it.

I'd rather just date someone I know, to be honest. Far easier.

Oh, my God, listen to you. Far easier.

[He rolls his eyes as he brings over the tea.]

It's true, isn't it? I notice you don't have a girl either, for all your nagging.

First off, I'm not nagging. Secondly, I only occasionally reserve myself to one girl. My prefered method is lots. Don't try and put us on the same level, Lupin.

[Primly, he sips his tea.]

And where are your lots, hm?

You aren't the only one getting it from shopgirls, Lupin. And I've got myself a career now.

Anyway, you know me. Better nothing serious. It's not as if I'll be bringing 'em round for tea or Sunday dinner.

Tell us of one, then. I haven't heard tales of your conquests in a while.

Oh--

[He heaves a sigh, but a pleased sigh, one of nostalgia, and takes a sip of his tea.]

Let's see. I was about thirty seconds away from snogging a local girl in a cupboard just last week when her massive local boyfriend walked in and started glaring at me. But right up until that moment, we were having a really good time, her and I.

Do you ever, you know, learn to check if they've boyfriends?

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