"Fuck you, too," Sirius huffs, stomping off into the kitchen. Remus stares after him, trying not to laugh. "I'm never feeding you biscuits again, you... You fraud," Sirius stops and pops his head into the living room, pointing a finger at Matshbutton, who doesn't look too bothered as she stares at him from under the couch.

Remus watches Sirius disappear and his self control flees out the windows. He bursts out laughing.

Sirius pops his head in again. "Excuse me," he says, "I'm bleeding. There's blood on my arm. Blood, Remus. I could die."

Remus laughs even harder. God, he missed this so much.

"Come on, better get you patched up then, before you bleed to death," he shakes his head, wiping at his eyes. He follows Sirius into the kitchen, and pulls out an antiseptic from the medicine cabinet.

"Fuck, that's going to sting, isn't it? Fuck, Remus," Sirius backs away, cradling his bleeding forearm.

"Well, yes," Remus grabs his hand to hold it in place. Sirius tries to wriggle out of his grip.

"Oh no, oh Merlin no—" Sirius' eyes go wide when Remus starts cleaning his cut. "—ow,"

"There, all done," Remus laughs, putting a small plaster over the cut.

"That fucking stings, Remus..." he trails off, and then his face breaks into a grin. "I wish we had some of Remmy's Magic Milk."

Remus can't help cringing. "God, not again..."

"Please, Remmy," Sirius tugs at Remus' arm with both hands like a little child, "Can I have some of your milk—" he claps his hands over his mouth as soon as the words are out.

Remus feels his face erupt into a blush.

"Oh Merlin, I..." Sirius closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Can we just—"

"Yes," Remus nods, turning away and willing his cheeks to stop burning, "God, yes."

"It never happened," Sirius says slowly.

"Never, nope," Remus nods, still red.

"Okay. Okay," Sirius rubs the plaster on his arm. "No more Magic Milk, then... You can make me tea instead."

***

"You're never going to wear it, are you?" Miss Hall narrows her eyes at Remus from behind the counter as she watches him sweep the bookshop. He sweeps it everyday, but God, it's like the place spews dust. There's probably a spell to make it easier, but Remus likes doing his housework the Muggle way. The way his mother always did it.

"I'm sorry, what am I never going to wear?" Remus huffs, giving the floor a final sweep which drives all the dust out of the door.

"The nail polish," Miss Hall tells him. "It would be such a shame if it were to go bad in the bottle, you know."

"Oh," Remus blushes a little as he pops into the backroom to put the broom away. "I'm just... not really..."

"You don't like it?" Miss Hall looks terribly offended, which makes Remus feel a little guilty. "I chose a black one for you. And black goes with everything, see," Miss Hall grins, showing him her nails that are, sure enough, painted black. Except Remus can't really tell if it goes with her bright pink skirt or yellow blouse, or her purple pointed hat.

"I..." Remus rubs the back of his neck.

"Alright, alright," Miss Hall shakes her head, "You don't have to wear it. But I'm just telling you," she breaks into a cheeky grin that reminds Remus of james. "Back in the day whenever I wore it, I would have to beat girls away with a stick."

Remus gives her a look, and then stops giving her a look because one, she's old enough to be his grandma—or his mother's grandma, even—and two, she's his boss. And you're probably not supposed to give looks to either of those.

"I know what you're going to suggest," Remus shakes his head. "But Sirius is not going to fall head over heels with me because I wore black nail polish, Miss Hall," he summons his own I'm-up-to-no-good-and-I'm-loving-it grin, "But thanks for your advice, of course. It works every time."

And now Miss Hall gives him a look.

But Remus can't really help it, she brings out the worst in him. The best kind of worst.

***

"Um," Sirius comes to sit down next to Remus on the couch, carrying Marshbutton in his arms. They've just finished dinner. "Why are you staring at a bottle of nail polish like it's your firstborn?"

Remus has to hold back a sigh when Sirius' arm brushes his. Even through two layers of fabric, it feels electric.

He should find it easy, this closeness, because it's nothing new, but sometimes he just can't escape the knowledge that it's going to end very soon. Just four more days. And sometimes he just can't help but feel like this is a game of pretend.

Marshbutton curls up on Sirius' lap, and laughing, Sirius scratches her ear.

"I was going to give it to you," Remus says, staring at the side of his face. Sirius looks at him, his hands falling idle on top of the cat.

"You... bought me nail polish?"

"I didn't buy it for you," Remus blushes, "I just... happened to acquire it. And... I thought you might like it."

"Happened to acquire it?" Sirius looks amused.

"Well, Miss Hall wanted nail polish so I went with her. And then she asked me to get one for myself. And I didn't want one, but she chose it for me and told me to buy it with my own money because she's charitable enough to choose one for me, but not enough to buy it."

Sirius looks even more amused, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile.

"Her words, not mine," Remus adds.

"And you're giving it to me because you don't want it? Wow, you sure know how to make a man feel special, Remus."

"No," Remus groans, feeling his face burn. "I'm giving it to you because it's black like your soul and all that. And it fits your aesthetic so well, don't you think?"

Sirius bursts out laughing, and Remus watches him laugh like he's a painting Remus has seen countless times before, but still keeps finding the smallest of details every time he sees it anew. He watches the corners of Sirius' eyes crinkle up, the curve of his neck as his head falls back, and the rattle of his shoulders as his laughter pushes out.

And his collarbones... God help Remus.

"That's quite fabulous," Sirius says when he's done laughing, voice breathless and face flushed.

And then he leans in to wrap his arms around Remus, his head finding its place under Remus' cheek. Not too pleased about this, Marshbutton jumps off of Sirius' lap. It makes Sirius laugh again, but he doesn't pull away.

"Thank you, Remus," he says as Remus hugs him back. "I love it. And I'm going to wear it everyday."

"Everyday?" Remus asks softly, his chest a little tighter than it needs to be.

"Everyday," Sirius confirms, squeezing Remus. "For the aesthetic, of course. Anything for the aesthetic."

***

Author's Note

I know I said the last chapter was the final filler but what the hell, I felt like writing something cute so I wrote something (marginally) cute. Also it's two in the afternoon and I need darkness to write good angst yk.

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