(no subject)
Title: “On Knowledge”
Prompt: #03, pink flower, resting in snow.
Warning: Nothing, really.
Length: About 700 words.
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Summary: Sirius knows a lot of things; how to date boys is not one of them.
AN: This flower prompt was hard. But I managed to do it. Thanks again, Sar, for reminding me not to suck so horribly.
Sirius Black knew a lot of things.
He knew how to transfigure a turtle into a trumpet, call his mother a whore in ten languages (he was fluent in three; the other seven were just recreational) and how to make a pot of tea, muggle style. He knew that James preferred Slick Willies Sleekeasy Hair Gel to any of the magic brands, though nothing worked anyway. He knew that Peter preferred his eggs poached to scrambled and that his mother always gave him a “literary” book with a comic underneath the cover for Christmas. And Sirius Black knew that Remus persisted in chewing real quills, as if he forgot they weren’t made of sugar, and getting his lips cut up and inky. Sirius knew that Remus hissed when he was in pain and laughed when he wasn’t. Sirius knew that Remus would always scratch the back of his neck right before saying something ridiculously impulsive and Sirius knew that Remus said he liked two sugars in his tea, but really preferred about seven.
Sirius Black knew a lot of things about dating, too. He knew that birds liked flowers and birds liked chocolate. He knew how to get a girl into bed and woo ladies that refused him. To be frank, he knew far less about woman than he gave himself credit for; his pretty face tended to ease the way.
And, apparently, Sirius Black knew how to ask out his very male best mate to dinner. He didn’t even know he knew this until he found his mouth saying the invitation, found his eyes watching Moony respond.
He knew how to ask him out, against all expectations, but he had no idea how to go about actually dating the bloke. Dating the bloke.
At least Sirius knew he was terrified.
He had spent an hour and twenty minutes in front of the mirror, spinning and examining his robes with a newly critical eye. He had never worried this much about his outfit for woman, but weren’t gay chaps supposed to be fashion conscious? Remus wasn’t, but Remus was hardly typical.
Right before walking out the door, he had another panic attack. Should he bring chocolates? But chocolates, with Remus, were hardly romantic. The boy liked chocolate, but it was medicinal. It was the foodstuff of pain, of fear; Madam Pomfrey hardly constituted Sirius’ romantic role-model.
But this really ought to be more formal than just a boy’s night out. They weren’t going to the pub for a few pints; they were going on a date --Sirius should get in a date-y frame of mind. He had deliberated, stressed, and had a shot of firewhiskey, before finally decided.
He had thought he needed flowers. And so he got some, a bouquet of delicate pink that looked charming cradled in the shopkeeper’s arms. The very female shopkeeper’s arms. She had asked him if they were for his girlfriend and he had stammered a bit, tossed some galleons at her and fled.
There was a part of him that realized he really ought to relax about this; it didn’t get listened to, however, because the rest of him was panicking.
Studying the flowers, he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and knocked sharply on Remus’ door. With a sudden burst of decision, he tossed the flowers in the bushes. They scattered, one of the blossoms resting daintily in the snow. What if only girls liked flowers? What if Remus thought he was offending his masculinity, or something?
Oh Merlin. He heard Remus’ steps.
Maybe he should have kept the flowers, maybe Remus would think that he didn’t care, maybe he needed-
Remus opened the door. Their eyes met and Sirius was gratified to see Remus’ faintly sick expression shift into a blinding smile.
“No motorcycle?” Remus said.
“Nope. I know you don’t like it.”
Remus scratched the back of his neck and Sirius slowly grinned, “Let’s skip dinner and just take a ride. I’d like learn to like it. I mean, if that’s okay?”
Remus could barely shut and lock the door before Sirius dragged him off.
Sirius Black didn’t know much, but he knew Remus and that was all he needed to know.
Prompt: #03, pink flower, resting in snow.
Warning: Nothing, really.
Length: About 700 words.
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Summary: Sirius knows a lot of things; how to date boys is not one of them.
AN: This flower prompt was hard. But I managed to do it. Thanks again, Sar, for reminding me not to suck so horribly.
Sirius Black knew a lot of things.
He knew how to transfigure a turtle into a trumpet, call his mother a whore in ten languages (he was fluent in three; the other seven were just recreational) and how to make a pot of tea, muggle style. He knew that James preferred Slick Willies Sleekeasy Hair Gel to any of the magic brands, though nothing worked anyway. He knew that Peter preferred his eggs poached to scrambled and that his mother always gave him a “literary” book with a comic underneath the cover for Christmas. And Sirius Black knew that Remus persisted in chewing real quills, as if he forgot they weren’t made of sugar, and getting his lips cut up and inky. Sirius knew that Remus hissed when he was in pain and laughed when he wasn’t. Sirius knew that Remus would always scratch the back of his neck right before saying something ridiculously impulsive and Sirius knew that Remus said he liked two sugars in his tea, but really preferred about seven.
Sirius Black knew a lot of things about dating, too. He knew that birds liked flowers and birds liked chocolate. He knew how to get a girl into bed and woo ladies that refused him. To be frank, he knew far less about woman than he gave himself credit for; his pretty face tended to ease the way.
And, apparently, Sirius Black knew how to ask out his very male best mate to dinner. He didn’t even know he knew this until he found his mouth saying the invitation, found his eyes watching Moony respond.
He knew how to ask him out, against all expectations, but he had no idea how to go about actually dating the bloke. Dating the bloke.
At least Sirius knew he was terrified.
He had spent an hour and twenty minutes in front of the mirror, spinning and examining his robes with a newly critical eye. He had never worried this much about his outfit for woman, but weren’t gay chaps supposed to be fashion conscious? Remus wasn’t, but Remus was hardly typical.
Right before walking out the door, he had another panic attack. Should he bring chocolates? But chocolates, with Remus, were hardly romantic. The boy liked chocolate, but it was medicinal. It was the foodstuff of pain, of fear; Madam Pomfrey hardly constituted Sirius’ romantic role-model.
But this really ought to be more formal than just a boy’s night out. They weren’t going to the pub for a few pints; they were going on a date --Sirius should get in a date-y frame of mind. He had deliberated, stressed, and had a shot of firewhiskey, before finally decided.
He had thought he needed flowers. And so he got some, a bouquet of delicate pink that looked charming cradled in the shopkeeper’s arms. The very female shopkeeper’s arms. She had asked him if they were for his girlfriend and he had stammered a bit, tossed some galleons at her and fled.
There was a part of him that realized he really ought to relax about this; it didn’t get listened to, however, because the rest of him was panicking.
Studying the flowers, he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and knocked sharply on Remus’ door. With a sudden burst of decision, he tossed the flowers in the bushes. They scattered, one of the blossoms resting daintily in the snow. What if only girls liked flowers? What if Remus thought he was offending his masculinity, or something?
Oh Merlin. He heard Remus’ steps.
Maybe he should have kept the flowers, maybe Remus would think that he didn’t care, maybe he needed-
Remus opened the door. Their eyes met and Sirius was gratified to see Remus’ faintly sick expression shift into a blinding smile.
“No motorcycle?” Remus said.
“Nope. I know you don’t like it.”
Remus scratched the back of his neck and Sirius slowly grinned, “Let’s skip dinner and just take a ride. I’d like learn to like it. I mean, if that’s okay?”
Remus could barely shut and lock the door before Sirius dragged him off.
Sirius Black didn’t know much, but he knew Remus and that was all he needed to know.