James digs into his ham sandwiches unaware of the look currently masquerading as an expression on Sirus’s face. It’s the sort of look you get when you mix regret, with feigned innocence, sprinkle it with anger and toss in a bit of longing to make it all go down easier. He also had that look a dog makes when he take it’s food bowl away before it finishes.
“He…uh…” he pushes the destroyed remains of the sandwich around his plate. “Who cares.”
You? James wonders. Aloud he says, “Just thought he was coming round this evening?”
Sirisu watches his best mate, trying to see if he’s got a clue or if all that I’m-just-your-average–rich-but-supremely-u
James has started picking the crumbs off his plate with his finger. This is a long-practiced art. He licks the tip of his finger, and presses it down upon each morsel, effectively sticking them to the digit. He is almost finished. Something grey and incensed flashes past the table, and runs into the laundry.
“Oh,” James’ attention has finally escaped his sandwich. He sounds amused. “You got a cat.”
For once in his life Sirius isn’t hungry.
“What do you mean you’ve always wanted a cat.”
Sirius has whirled around and Remus notices that the look on his face isn’t a very attractive one.
“Look, love, it’s not about wanting.” Remus strokes the tabby’s back but far from calming it, the feline has crouched into a grey ball of electric fur and has started hissing. “Boo hasn’t got anywhere else to go.” He looks at the cat fondly, raising his eyes to look equally fondly at his enraged partner.
“Well.” Sirius looks just as irritated as the cat. “If you’re finding your no longer that way inclined, perhaps we should just accept our differences, and end it.”
Remus smiles at him, amused.
“Stop that goddamn smiling! You’ve just broken up with me over a cat. I deserved to be upset!”
Remus is still smiling, and Sirius fights the urge to throw something. His long fingers stroke through the grey-striped fur. Sirius tries not to think about those fingers. Food. That could work. Except, he’s really not hungry. What’s another primal instinct. Ah yes. Violence. That’s a great way to relieve tension. The vase next to him looks tempting.
“You’re so tense.”
“Don’t talk to me.”
“Excuse me, I was talking to the cat.”
Sirius gives into the urge and hurls the vase at the wall. His gesture is somewhat cheapened when Remus flicks a finger and it lands safely on the coffee table. Damned wandless magic.
“Don’t. I like that vase.”
He strokes the cat again. It seems to be slowly unwinding.
“Look, love—“ Sirius doesn’t respond and Remus looks up to check he’s listening.
“Oh, so you’re talking to me again, are you?”
“—love,” he continues firmly. “You know I’ll be in Scotland for a week. And since he has no other place to go —“
“No!” Sirius can feel the panic rising. “No, no no NO!” He grips the back of a nearby chair. Hard. “I am NOT going to bond with that…that thing!”
“He’s not a thing, Sirius. He’s a cat. And his name’s Boo.”
Sirius looks at Remus incredulously. Remus knows he’s assenting, and he knows Remus knows, and he also knows that he’d give anything to assent, just so Remus knows that he knows that he will.
And of course, like the selfish bugger he is, Remus is going to take advantage of this. Sirius sinks slowly into the chair he’s been strangling.
“And I need you to watch him while I’m away.”
This is unbelievable. But strangely enough, flattering.
“You want me to watch him?”
“And play with him. Boo gets bored sometimes, don’t you, Boo.” Remus flashes him one of those looks only serious predators can give. “He loves dogs.”
“Oh, God.” Sirus head finds its way into his hands and he groans a bit, for emphasis.
“Boo, why don’t you go and talk to Sirius.”
Sirius looks up in surprise as the cat actually gets off Remus lap and pads over to him. What the fuck. The bugger can talk to animals now? Life just gets weirder and weirder with this werewolf.
Well two could play at that game.
Boo — the Cat — jumps onto Sirius’ lap and rubs his head against the man’s chin. Sirius tentatively runs his fingers through the fur. It is very soft. He knows Remus can see he’s yielding.
“What sort of arse name is Boo, anyway?”
“His name’s Boo.” Sirius looks disgustedly at the feline in the corner before picking up the spray gun and shooting a spurt of water at it. The cat scoots off into the other room again. “He’s been marking his territory.” He explains.
James laughs at the irony. “If only we’d thought to use that on you.”
Sirius completely and maturedly chooses to ignore that comment and decides to keep ranting instead.
“Remus,” he peels that name of his tongue and spits it down onto his plate. James looks on fondly at what love can do to an angry soul. “has asked me to watch him while he’s away. In Scotland.” He adds, answering Jame’s previous question.
‘Ah.” James looks at Sirius’ sandwich and raises an eyebrow. Sirius absently pushes the plate over to his friend. “So you two are —“ James pauses to take a bite “— still together.” He swallows and takes another bite. Sirius wonders how his friend can be so insatiable. Sirius hasn’t felt like eating for almost a week now.
He doesn’t bother answering James’ question, this time. It’s too obvious.
There’s a knock at the door and Sirius jumps up, before visibily calming himself and walking slowly (too slowly, James muses) to the door.
With his back to the entrance, James just listens, chewing affectionately at the silence. Then the quiet feverish whispers. And the silence again. A long silence. James takes another bite.
Sirius and Remus walk back in. Sirius stretches out before throwing himself into a chair.
“God. I’m so hungry.” He moans. “What’s there to eat.”
In the corner, the cat, mildly surprised no one has tried to stop it yet, relieves itself spectacularly against the wall.
Remus has a new cat.
Remus likes how its eyes are as grey as Sirius’.
Sirius finds its purr annoying.
Remus likes the way it likes having its stomach scratched.
Sirius remembers when Remus used to scratch his stomach.
Remus likes how it rubs up against your legs when it’s hungry.
Sirius hates how the cat always gets fed first.
Remus likes how it hisses at Sirius and springs off the table.
Sirius hates that the cat knows he doesn’t like it.
Remus likes Sirius’ expression when he gets jealous of the cat.
Sirius hates cats. And Remus knows it.