Who: James and Sirius Where: Coconut Husk When: Backdated to Friday night What: Sirius needs his bff. Status/Rating: Incomplete, low
Rejection.
It wasn't a concept Sirius was all that familiar with, even on the most basic level. It was in the blood, the self-entitlement. Blacks got what they wanted when they wanted it badly enough. Didn't help that he was a handsome devil. No one rejected Sirius Black. They might play hard to get, and he was all right with the challenge, thrived off the thrill of a chase. Anyone too easy didn't promise lasting fun. But no one ever flat out denied him. And, want it though he might in this particular isolated circumstance, Remus Lupin didn't play games.
With any other problem, James would have had Sirius on his doorstep whinging and bitching and threatening to punch blunt objects within a matter of moments. But he had never had this sort of problem. It was embarrassing, but not in the way a bad rash was embarrassing. Besides the lack of uncomfortable itching, it was different because Sirius was hurt – something deep down there, in the porous cavity of his otherwise stone heart, ached. It took a few days of mulling about the beach sloshed and licking his wounded pride before Sirius was ready to sort things out with his brother from another mother.
James had somehow weathered through Lily's rejection, and look what happened there. Married and a kid. Litters of grandchildren. He was the fucking how-to expert on deflecting rejection. And his best friend.
Nursing a bottle of ale, Sirius sat and waited, knee absently bouncing up and down with restless energy.