Remus J Lupin (caseoffurry) wrote in unloading_zone, @ 2010-08-13 16:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | james potter, remus lupin, sirius black |
Who: James, Remus and Sirius
Where: The pub
When: Friday late afternoon
What: Drinking and hurtful words and stuff
Rating: TBD
Status: Incomplete
Remus was on his third coconut by the time he invited James to join him. He’d looked around and almost everyone else was sipping happily, surrounded by friends - or at least one friend. He was moping in a bloody coconut with a pink umbrella on it. It was mocking him and his unhappiness.
And it was pink. It was calling him a girl. Mocking him and calling him a little girl. He should let his hair grow out and make himself pigtails. Remus narrowed his eyes at it, plucked it out and shot it across the table like one did an old cigarette butt, making it flutter and land on James’s eventual chair.
Sirius had said it best last time. There was nothing here to save up for. So basically, as long as he had money to eat, he could spend the rest on drink. And he would have to, if he wanted to make himself drunk. Maybe the next drink would be something stiffer. More manly. And without the bloody umbrellas.
It took James what must have been record time to make it to the pub. The pub was a good plan. Remus was a good plan. It was Remus. What was the worst that could happen, getting drunk with Remus? Responsible, reasonable, surely-wouldn’t-let-him-do-anything-too-s
James didn’t have to look for Remus when he walked into the bar. He knew where he was, the same way he knew precisely where Sirius was passed out on the floor even in a pitch black room. He had yet to find a way to use this unique gift for world domination or something, but at the moment it proved plenty useful. With a wave and a vague gesture that was nonetheless correctly interpreted as the universal signal for ‘please give me a drink and i don’t care what it is.’
Sliding onto the seat next to Remus, James grinned. “We celebrating something?” After all, Remus wasn’t really one for suggesting a pub crawl. Not that there were any other pubs to crawl toward, but James had no intention of letting that stop him. A coconut, filled with a frothy, pale orange liquid was settled down in front of him. His smile dwindled a little, however, as he paused in bringing it to his mouth. “Hey, where’s my umbrella?”
“You’re sitting on one,” Remus grumbled. If there was something poking at James’s behind... that would be what it was, but he was too busy drinking to say it. As for answering James’s answer, Remus pulled the crumpled little note from his pocket and smacked it onto the table in front of his friend, making a few heads turn in their direction at the sound. Adrian’s note. That little shite.
The worst bit was, Remus wasn’t sure he was even allowed to be hacked off at either bloke. Yes, Pucey was clearly trying to make him jealous, writing that note. And how did he know to write the note anyway? How did he know how Remus would react? Remus hadn’t ever met the man outside the journals and the extent of what he remembered of those encounters was the suggestion that he should ‘trim the bush’. All he was after was sex and Sirius deserved better.
But on the other hand, Sirius didn’t want better. He’d told Remus so. He’d told Remus that the long-term wasn’t possible for him even though he’d just described what-
For about thirty seconds, Remus had been able to believe that some day, maybe-
And now Sirius was shagging Adrian Pucey who was going out of his way to let Remus know and to make Remus jealous and Remus, the big idiot that he was, was letting it work. And it was working really well. And in the end, REMUS would be in the wrong. He emptied his coconut and waved for another.
Ah. Not celebrating, then. He half-slipped himself off the seat, surprised to find Remus wasn’t kidding. Only, it was a little smushed. Smushed, but not destroyed. For no real particular reason apart from his awareness of the possibility, the little umbrella found itself slipped through the unruly tresses of James’s hair. Though he didn’t have a mirror, he was certain it looked quite fetching.
But as he sipped his drink, which turned out to be mango-flavoured, he let took to scrutinizing the note. The punchline seemed a little weak, but James was hardly ignorant of the fact that he never much cared for elbows jabbed into the ribs of other Marauders. It was something of a Marauder-exclusive privilege. But there really wasn’t any reason for Remus to worry about it, was there? Sirius had already shagged the bloke, yeah? So it was only a matter of time before Sirius wasn’t shagging him anymore, and then Remus wouldn’t have to put up with up with him.
Not that Remus should have had to in the first place, but that was the sort of thing he’d take up with Sirius. Whinging over it with Remus wouldn’t much fix anything. It was really just a measure of courtesy, to spare one’s friends from the antics of whoever they’d dragged into bed. Not that James was dragging anyone anywhere. Seeing as to how he was safe, in a well-peopled area, with Remus for company.
“He’s shagged plenty more obnoxious people,” James was quick to remind him, shrugging as he did so. Because hey, it could have been worse. It could have been some clingy skirt who was trying to move in with him after one night, already picking out the names of their children and whatnot. Adrian didn’t quite seem the sort. “And give it a few days, and Sirius’ll be onto to someone new-- and he’ll have forgotten all about our little Safety Monitor, here.”
Sirius was nearly blown over by the storm raging outside. The knocked off his feet, clinging to a palm tree, kind of blown over. That’s how big of a bitch the wind was being, and that wasn’t all. The off-and-on rain came pouring down on him just moments after he left the dingy bungalow for the promise of warmer environs and less boredom. When he pushed past the rickety doors that somehow managed to keep the coconut husk of a pub corked, his clothes were plastered to his skin, cotton shirt, jeans, and all.
Sirius was mad to brave the storm for liquor, and he didn’t give a toss. The grin playing across his mouth showed to him it was just another way to pat himself on the back for another reckless deed well performed. Flying colours, abounds!
The smug look-what-I-lived-through expression dimmed on his way to the bar when he noticed the occupants of a table in the back. When Remus and James were sitting in a pub, chatting and faffing around without him, without so much as mentioning they’d be there, there was something wrong with the way the world was spinning on its axis. Sirius was never left out. Remus might, because he was older and all, but James? Strictly bad form for James not to fetch him for a pub crawl.
Half-frowning, half-pouting, Sirius stalked up to where they were seated. His arms slowly came up to cross over his chest, trying to affect a righteously pissed off stance. One that, given his dripping wet clothing, wouldn’t look too absurd. “What’s all this about, then?” he demanded to know. “Are you two having a sordid love affair behind my back?”
But that wasn't what he wanted! Remus didn't want Sirius to move on to the next piece of arse that presented itself, nor did he find it particularly helpful to be reminded that Sirius frequently shagged others, no matter how annoying they were. This wasn't the comparison he wanted. In fact, he didn't want much of anything from James by way of answer. The only thing he wanted was acknowledgement. And maybe an opinion, advice on what to do about it.
He wanted to tell James that it was his luggage and that he... that he was interested in Sirius, but the object of his unrequited attention appeared, soaked and looking quite peeved. Remus's eyes narrowed as they landed on him and took in his expression. He wanted to tell him he was a... He didn't know, but things, unpleasant things. Rather than say anything, which would require unclenching his jaw, Remus snatched the letter from James's grasp and planted it in Sirius's hand. Had he thought it through, he wouldn't have done that. He would have lied by omission, he would've made some sort of joke about he and James in a sordid love affair, but in his current mood, he wanted Sirius to know. Sirius deserved to know. Sirius needed to know.
"I'll be back," he grumbled, rising and intercepted the waiter who'd been bringing him his coconut. He needed something stiffer and he was going to the bar to get it.