Archive of Our Own

Remus Lupin was not a desperate man. Really, he wasn’t. He was, however, a curious man.

Google Search: “How to meet new people”

He was researching. Academia was his calling after all.

🟅AI Overview:
To meet new people, consider joining social activities. Taking new classes, joining a club, or finding a sports team that aligns with your interests can help you meet individuals. Volunteering, attending local events, and frequenting places you enjoy, like the gym or coffee shops, can also create opportunities for interaction. Don’t be afraid to strike up a conversation with the people you meet. Be open to new connections wherever you go!

Remus stared at the screen, scanning the AI Overview with an inward eye roll. Leave it to artificial intelligence to make a broad, base assumption about his life. What, did it think he was so young that he didn’t know how to talk to people or “make connections” in the real world?

Straightening his back, Remus tapped away at the keyboard again, refining his search parameters.

Google Search: “How to meet new people in your 50s”

🟅AI Overview:
To meet people as a 50-year-old, focus on activities and groups which align with your interests, such as book clubs, volunteerism, taking classes, or participating in sports leagues as a casual viewer. Reconnecting with old friends and reaching out to neighbors can also expand your social circle.

Great. Now he was a geriatric recluse. Perfect.

For God’s sake, he was only fifty-one, not joining a retirement community. And he did young people things, like drink matcha and send Teddy an excess of niche internet memes. He even recently started enjoying the underground music scene - but only when it was not that ‘glitch music’. It wasn’t that he disapproved of cool new effects and unconventional rhythms, but after the third software crash and the second skipping CD track, he decided the distorted quality was just too trippy for his taste.

And no, reconnecting with “old friends” was the last thing he needed. Thank you, Dora. Besides, his “old friends” frequented the same coffee shop he always had and enjoyed the same book club where they mostly argued over symbolism and plotlines. If there were an eligible someone there, he would have been dating months ago.

Sipping at his iced matcha, he scrolled down further in the search results.

Reddit r/AskOldPeople - How to meet people in your 50s, 60s, and 70s?

He groaned. Maybe today was not the day for this.

The front door clicked, and the sounds that had become synonymous with Teddy filled the room: a backpack thumped to the floor, keys dropped atop the shelf, a ball cap slid over the coat hanger.

“Hey Dad.” Teddy slipped off his Converse and shuffled into the room, where Remus sat with the laptop open on the coffee table. “What’s the plan for dinner? Because, if you didn’t have something planned already I was thinking -” He paused, right behind Remus and leaned down to get a closer look at the screen. “Is… is that… how to meet people in your 50s?”

Remus shut the laptop with a snap. Definitely not his day.

“Just a little academic research, Teddy,” Remus stated, pulling his readers off and sliding them into his shirt pocket as he pivoted on the sofa to look at him. “I was just about to put the meat into the oven.”

Raising his eyebrows, Teddy smirked. “Not without braising it first, right? Remember the wine I bought? For the steak?”

Since Teddy had moved in, Remus had adjusted to the fact that his son enjoyed employing some of the skills he learned in the university’s kitchen. It was great, if not for the fact that it was going to his gut. And now he might have to admit that yes, he had forgotten (again).

“Right, yeah, I forgot.” Remus pushed up to standing. “I’ll get that going.”

“Or you can get back to your research and let the chef do his work.” Teddy pushed him back to sitting.

Not in a position to argue with the child - who he had spent half a year’s salary putting through culinary school, and now another half a year’s salary putting through business school - Remus sat back down, but didn’t touch his laptop again.

Walking through to the kitchen, Teddy stopped at the doorway and turned. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know. I know you’ve been lonely, and there's no shame in online dating. There are apps for that. Popular ones, even.”

“Mm,” Remus grunted.

“That’s what Mum does,” Teddy added. “And the rest of us.”

Which was the very reason Teddy had moved out of his childhood home - Dora bringing home all manner of “partners” after matching on the dating app, both temporary and long term (which meant a week tops).

“I’m not looking for a revolving door of sexual partners,” Remus said, tugging at the button on his wrist so he could roll his sleeve up.

Teddy mimed retching, through some actual queasiness.

“Please never say the phrase ‘revolving door of sexual partners’ ever again. I might be an adult, but it still stings my delicate ears.”

Right. The same delicate ears that listen to glitch music at above recommended decibel levels.

When Remus didn’t answer, Teddy pushed through to the kitchen, calling back over his shoulder, “Emotional damage aside, you really should just look at what’s out there, Dad.”

Pulling his phone from the belt holster at his hip, Remus sat there for a moment and considered his options before pulling up the app store. It had been nine months of pure misery, and even he could admit that it was time to at least try to leave the house after eight p.m. with another human being’s company - and move past Teddy’s unrelenting badgering.

“Alright, wise old sage, you win. But, you just volunteered yourself to help,” Remus declared and pushed himself to stand again, following his technologically literate child into the other room. “If you think your delicate ears can handle it.”

“I thought it was just research,” Teddy teased, pouring wine into a cast iron skillet.

“I’m acquiescing to your infernal wisdom.”

“Wait, so you’re actually going to do it this time?” He turned, his brows raised, meat hanging from the tongs in his hand. “You’re having me on.”

For two months, Remus had evaded and justified, excused and maneuvered around Teddy’s insistence that he seemed rather miserable and quite lonely. Which was interesting, considering that neither he, nor Teddy, had realized the magnitude of Remus’s loneliness, until it was amplified after the twenty year marriage had come to a sudden, but amicable end.

His stomach churned. Re-entering the dating scene had not been on his bingo card, and the idea of showing up to dinner or coffee with a cozy cardigan and readers, felt like a cruel joke.

“Watch it, or you can bugger off with your ideas.” Remus bit at his lip and stared at the app store in his hand once more. “Love me or hate me, both are in my favor,” he quoted.

“Alright, let’s strike a deal: you stop quoting Shakespeare and I’ll help you set up a few profiles.”

“Great,” Remus replied, the weight in his belly waffling between dread and relief. “Go on then, tell me how I get started on this.”

Scrolling through the store, Remus scanned the dating apps with a bad taste in his mouth. He wanted to do this. He did. And yet, the urge to drop his phone into a vat of sizzling wine was strong as the options presented themselves.

Swoon | Where you can fall head over feels | 3.4 Stars

PairUp | Un-single yourself! | 3.9 Stars

What a load of tosh. The marketing was abysmal, if you asked Remus. Un-single yourself? What uneducated gen-alpha had been hired by that company?

Teddy gestured to the phone with the ladle in his hand. “Any of those taking your fancy?”

Remus side-eyed his son and continued scrolling.

“Not particularly.” He crossed one foot over the other. “These seem very directed toward the younger crowd, or perhaps, just finding a shag.”

Leaning over, Teddy watched the screen as Remus scrolled slowly upwards. “What? Engorgio doesn’t seem too bad,” he laughed.

Remus shoved him lightly. “Engorge: to stuff or be stuffed. That’s the one I should use, huh?”

Teddy made another face. “What are the other options?”

VibeMatch | Because chemistry starts with a vibe | 4.6 Stars

For the eighteen and besotted crowd, no doubt.

LuvLoop | Match, Chat, Repeat. | 4.2 Stars

Ah yes, the non-committal hook up. A classic.

Obliviate | Forget your ex, find a new love! | 3.9 Stars

“Hey Dad, that one’s perfect.” Teddy nodded to the phone. “Mum would be proud.”

“Oh, Teds, I’m sorry to say we moved on a long time ago,” Remus admitted. “Lovingly, of course.”

“That’s not really the point, but -” Teddy shook his head and went back to peeling steak off the pink polystyrene packaging. “Never mind. What’s next?”

Flirtsy | Where sparks fly with every swipe | 4.7 Stars

If he were female, that may be appealing. Maybe that was the point? To find the feminine crowd?

Charmed+ | Not confused — just charmed by everyone | 4.9 Stars

“Charmed Plus?” Remus read aloud. “...Just charmed by everyone. Is that alluding to what I think it is?”

“Yes, Dad,” Teddy said, with the air of someone exercising great patience with their out-of-touch parent. “And you should really consider it. That’s what Mum uses, she really -”

“Moving on,” Remus interrupted.

Spellbound | Bi and believing in a little everyday magic | 4.8 Stars

“What about Spellbound - bi and believing in a little everyday magic?” Remus clicked on the icon, a midnight blue circle with a flourish of stars. “That sounds quaint.”

“Quaint?” Teddy asked. “Is that what you’re going for?”

“Well, I’m not going for that revolving door,” Remus reminded him. “Where would you live then?”

“So, if I wasn’t here, you’d be considering it?”

“What do you think?” Remus smirked.

“Spellbound looks like a great option,” Teddy capitulated, effectively putting an end to the line of questioning. “Set up an account.”

For the next ten minutes, Remus leaned over the counter, his elbows bent against the butcher block as he slowly entered his information from the bloody tiny electronic keyboard, while Teddy sliced up onion, asparagus, and broccolini.

The profile seemed simple enough to complete.

✶✰✶
Age: 51
Location: Ravenclaw Heights
Profession: Professor of Literature

About Me: I’m a tenured professor at Gryffindor University who enjoys quiet evenings, good wine, hot tea, and the light of a beautiful full moon. I have a son and an ex-wife of twenty-two years.

Looking For: A free spirit who can make me laugh, shares similar interests, and will hold my hand on long walks through the park. Looking for more than a dalliance, or a weekend tryst. Long term relationship seekers only.
✶✰✶

“Okay, that’s done then,” Remus announced, setting his phone on the countertop. “Steak smells fantastic, Teds.”

“Cheers.” Teddy flipped the steaks and, with the reflexes of an expert jacks player, snatched up the phone before Remus could stop him. “Let’s check your work before you turn it in.”

“Too late.” He held out his open palm to take it back. “I already saved it.”

“Yes, which is impossible to undo, of course.” The smarmy smile on Teddy’s smug face slowly began to even out as he read, until the smile lines disappeared and disgusted, scrunchy ones replaced them.

“Are you taking the mickey? Oh, Dad…” he sighed. “Father. Padre. What is this? ‘A son and ex-wife of twenty-two years?’ You can’t say that. We don’t mention exes.”

“What?” Remus reached for the phone this time, but Teddy held it out of his reach. Which was a feat, when he considered Teddy was a whole three inches shorter than him. “Why not? It’s my profile. Don’t you go adding your whimsical touch to it. I want it to be authentic, and if anyone has a problem with my divorce, well… that’s on them.”

“And it makes you sound complicated and boring as hell,” Teddy sighed, and turned away so that he could peruse it without Remus’s interference. “Don’t worry, I won’t change it entirely. It’s just - maybe we can revise it a little. There’s always room to improve our work, wouldn’t you say, Professor?”

“Wise arse.” But, Remus was smiling despite himself.

“Is this really the best you could come up with? If someone handed this in to you, what mark would you give them?”

He ignored the last bit. “In five minutes, with you hovering…? Yes, I thought it was decent, if concise.”

With a roll of his eyes, Teddy turned off the burner and slid onto a stool. “I’ll give you an E, for exceptionally boring. It’s giving wallpaper in a world of neon signs. It’s so dry, I’m going to have to finish off this wine just to get through it.”

Folding his arms, Remus leaned back against the cupboards. “It just may be the case that your father is not enamoured with neon signs and isn’t looking for anything flashy. But -” he waved a hand as if to nudge Teddy, “- if you think you can make this cashmere jumper wearing, quiet, bookworm more exciting, let’s see it.”

Remus was not a desperate man. But, apparently he was a stupid man.

He knew it the second Teddy’s eyes lit up and his smarmy smile returned, morphing into something akin to the Grinch’s evil grin. Challenging Teddy was destined to result in the most outlandish profile he could have imagined, painting a picture of someone that Remus most certainly wasn’t.

Five minutes later, Teddy handed the phone back over, levering himself up to his feet with a satisfied expression. “There you go. If this doesn’t win you a few dates, I don’t know what will.”

✶✰✶
Bio Highlights:
Bookish bi | Coffee loyalist | Probably rereading The Secret History
Soft on the outside, softer on the inside.

Age: 51 in years, 70 in my soul, Metabolically 30 😉
Location: Modest 2-story with masculine touches near the worst coffee shop in Ravenclaw Heights.
Profession: Bitchin’ Lit Professor with a great retirement pension.

About Me: Bisexual, bookish, and slightly feral once a month. Fueled by Espresso, day dreams, and a tragic backstory filled with intrigue. Loves dogs but refuses to own any, hates the music scene, and carry’s a pocket dictionary.

Looking For: Someone untamable in the best way. Someone who drags me out of my head and into the street light. Someone who makes me laugh like I used too.
✶✰✶

“Teddy.” Remus squinted at the screen. “What the fuck does that mean? ‘Slightly feral once a month?’”

“It means whatever you want it to mean. It’s there for the mystery.”

“Uh-huh.” Remus tapped the screen, searching for a way to change the text. “How do I edit this drivel? No one can see this yet, right?”

“No, don’t touch it,” Teddy said. Remembering the now slightly-too-done steaks, he quickly plated them and the blackened vegetables. “Just give it a day, see what happens.”

“Teddy. Lad. My handsome nutter. I can’t leave this grammatically indecent rubbish up and also claim to be a literature professor.” Remus sat down at the table and stuffed the phone into his pocket and away from Teddy’s fibbing fingers - for now.

He would take care of it later, when Teddy was busy or something.

---

Remus liked swiping right. He liked the musical trill of a match even more.

In less than twenty four-hours, he had received eleven matches, approximately six more than he had bet on. Of course, the bet was against himself, but nonetheless he subsequently, and happily, purchased a cornish pasty at the corner store on his way into the office.

Settling into the high back leather rolling chair behind his desk, Remus set aside his briefcase, opened his laptop, and ignored his inbox with sixteen unopened emails from students and professors alike. Instead, he navigated to Spellbound.com and logged in.

This task was something to be done in the privacy of his office, where prying blue eyes wouldn’t read over his shoulder and influence his decision.

There was one new message in his Spellbound inbox, from a handsome fellow named Gilderoy.

***🖋️***

Good Afternoon!

I hope you don’t mind the message. I wasn’t going to say anything, but your profile stood out - not in the usual “look-at-me” sort of way (believe me, I know the type), but in the quiet way that lingers. You seem like someone who chooses their words carefully - and that’s something I’ve come to admire more than a front-page feature or award winning novel.

(It was an odd compliment, but Remus found himself smiling regardless. It wasn’t often he received such thoughtful comments, and it was as though Gilderoy could really see him for who he truly was.)

I won’t pretend we have everything in common. I’ve spent a fair amount of time in the spotlight with my writings, but I’ve been trying to slow down. Lately, I find I enjoy good conversation, long walks, and the company of people who see through surface-level nonsense.

(Remus tilted his head to the side with intrigue. An author? Well, wouldn’t that be something: the lit professor and the author. It sounded promising. A little bit magical even.)

I’d love to get to know you, if you’re open to that. No gimmicks - just a sincere hello from someone who’s learning to enjoy quieter things.

Gilderoy Lockhart
7 Time Award Winning Author
The Sunday Times Bestseller

***🖋️***

Clicking over to Gilderoy’s profile, Remus leaned back in his office chair and scrolled through the photos. Ah yes, he remembered this one - the blond man sitting in a well-lit wood-paneled study, half-smile on his face, and an old fashioned quill in hand, signing what could be presumed to be an autograph onto the front cover of a book.

The temptation to google Gilderoy was nearly all-consuming; that was, before he imagined Teddy’s exasperated groan and further explanation that dating was ‘not a research project or literature review’. Perhaps he could surrender to the mystery of this handsome author. It could be foolish, but he certainly didn’t google Dora before he asked her out to ice skate with him in the park. Right. That was his mind made up then.

***🖋️***

Gilderoy,

I rather enjoyed hearing your keen observations, and appreciate that you noticed the quieter things; that’s a rare talent indeed. As we both enjoy the literary realm and good conversation, shall we meet for a stroll around Hyde Park?

Remus

***🖋️***

---

Gilderoy was the antithesis of a good conversationalist.

The plum three piece suit was both eccentric and stunning on the blond man, and he knew it. How did Remus know? Because Gilderoy told him so (“I know what you’re thinking, Remus. You’re wondering how you matched up with such a dashing devil of a man.”).

It had taken everything in Remus’s arsenal of good manners to not roll his eyes like a juvenile, after his eyebrows shot up in utter surprise. It was a shame really, and quite unfortunate that Gilderoy would have been much more attractive with his mouth taped shut. And not in the fun kind of way, either.

“... and wouldn’t you know, the Lord of Canterbury is a personal friend of mine. He gave me quite the bewitching private tour of the property after lending me an excellent review of the most recent installment of my autobiography.” Gilderoy’s voice seemed to glide out of his mouth, the smooth rhythm matching his swanky gait.

“Oh, that sounds like a very pleasant afternoon,” Remus said, for a lack of anything else to say which could come across as dangerously close to interest.

“Yes, I would think his afternoon was greatly improved by my presence. But, it was high time that I cleared my schedule to answer his passionate pleas to join him for tea. I hate to disappoint my lovely fans, and one of such import, at that. After all, one never knows when those connections will lead to new opportunities and long lived friendships.”

A rogue, and very soft, hand brushed against Remus’s, briefly attempting to link pinkies.

“Ah, yes. I see.”

Remus pulled his hand away before the pompous weirdo could take hold.

“You’ll know all about that, of course. I have a whole chapter dedicated to the concept in Networking Naturally: A Social Guide For The Gifted And Glamorous. And I’ve improved upon some of the finer points in my upcoming publication Dear Me, You’re Popular: The Lockhart Way To Winning People Over.”

“Wow. That’s… Admirable of you for wanting to help so many people reach the same … understanding.”

Damn it, Remus. There he went politely showing a feigned interest in what had to be complete and utter shite. This man was, undeniably, the most arrogant, narcissistic, egotistical, offensively self-assertive, conceited, and unfortunately handsome man Remus had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Or, as Teddy would call him, a fuckwad. Which Remus would normally refrain from utilizing. However, it was, sadly, apropos.

How he was going to get out of this horrendous date, Remus didn’t know. Although, Gilderoy was so wrapped up in his own world, that there was no need to think much on it.

“Oh no,” Remus started, as he slowed his walk to a shuffle, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I just realized that my dog is supposed to be attending a birthday party tonight. If I don’t leave now, he’ll miss out on the kibble cake.”

“What?” Gilderoy turned with surprise, a slightly crestfallen look accompanying his newly slumped shoulders. “I thought we would go for a drink.”

“Ah.” Remus checked his watch. “My dog also needs a drink. But, this was… certainly a most singular encounter. You are quite unlike anyone I have ever met. I will reflect on it at length.”

And with that, Remus left Gilderoy flattered, confused, and bemused; and likely still working out the finer points of Remus’s farewell.

---

It took Remus three days to log onto Spellbound again, after that dreadful date. Even thinking of it as a date brought bile to his throat, and made him resolve to get over his refusal to own a dog, just so he could adopt one and have a legitimate excuse to leave next time. If there was ever to be a next time.

Ever since his illuminating experience with Gilderoy, Remus had done his darndest to ignore the musical chime of matches coming through on the app. He didn’t think he could stand to entertain another date like that one ever again. But, after seventy-two hours, three showers, and practically scrubbing his pinkie raw with lye soap, Remus decided it was time to rip off the proverbial bandage and get over himself, and move past the violation that was Gilderoy Lockhart.

After all, one sour grape doesn’t ruin the vineyard.

Sifting through the profiles that Teddy explained were bots, based on inconsistent photos and poor secondary English skills for reported Englishmen, Remus found a promising one that seemed, by all accounts, to be a genuine person.

And, Mother of God, what a dashing man he was.

Remus froze and his breath caught, settling somewhere below his navel. There was simply no way he had actually matched with this glorious specimen of a man. But, since Remus had swiped right on nearly every decent looking, eligible man in the area, he supposed it half-way made sense. But, why this god-like creature had swiped right on him was a mystery he wanted to unravel immediately. The man’s silky dark skin, and disarmingly, striking eyes created an other-worldly, exotic look that enraptured Remus like none of the others had thus far.

Clicking into his profile, Remus read through the “about me” section:

✶✰✶
Bio Highlights:
Fierce and deeply kind | Quiet observer | Loves tea and scones
Passionate about human rights and social justice activism.
Name: Kingsley S.
Age: 48
Profession: Government Security Liaison (Retired Military Officer)
Location: Central London
About Me:
Calm under pressure, steady by nature. I enjoy reading non-fiction and researching socio-political and international LGBTQ+ rights in my free time. I enjoy attending rallies and protests, as both a peacekeeper and peaceful participant. At work, I am intense and focused, the person that everyone turns to when things go sideways. But, at home, I like to relax with a proper cup of tea and a worn-in book: something quiet and peaceful after a long day of holding the line.
Looking For:
Someone who shows up just as they are, who will challenge me with kindness and precision, while growing with me in the quiet moments and the chaotic ones. I value warmth, wit, and real connection.
✶✰✶

The man’s captivating headshot aside, Remus was intrigued. Someone with a bonafide career, who enjoyed quiet evenings, and who was interested in not only protecting the rights of those in their community, but actively sought to reform change, and wore a well-fitting suit, was deeply attractive. There was no message from Kingsley - and Remus couldn’t believe he was about to do what he was about to do - but he was going to possibly make a fool of himself and start the conversation.

***🖋️***

Kingsley,

I hope this message finds you well. Your profile stopped me mid-scroll and I think we may be a good match. You seem thoughtful and calm, and somehow made “government security” sound poetic instead of intimidating. Your interest in research and activism, as well as your attention to the care of others, is intriguing.

I am a literature professor at Gryffindor University, and as such, also enjoy quiet evenings and a strong cup of tea, after a long day of corralling adult students who lack fully formed frontal cortex lobes. It sounds like you may be able to relate.

If you're up for it, I’d love to grab a quiet drink and converse over the finer points of social justice reform. Or at the very least, debate which tea actually qualifies as “proper.”

Remus

***🖋️***

He had only deleted the message three times, and re-drafted it with more care than the last literature review he had marked in red pen. Still, he pressed send with a deep breath, and continued scrolling.

Bot.

Bot.

Bot.

Alastor M. Hmm. That one may have been accidental. He’ll circle back to it later.

Bot.

Probably a bot.

Definitely a bot.

Quirinus Q. He might come back to that one later, too. Maybe.

Bot.

Bot.

The trill of an incoming message interrupted his further scrolling, and a flutter of excitement raced through Remus’s stomach. What was his luck that Kingsley would respond so soon? And yet... Perhaps if he was just as eager to talk as Remus, they may be a better match than he had previously envisioned.

Clicking into his inbox, Remus stopped in his tracks once more.

The message wasn’t from Kingsley.

It was from a slightly younger looking lad who wore a sports vest and biceps the size of Remus’s head.

Alright, someone was absolutely taking the mickey.

Laughing aloud, Remus sank back into his armchair and ran a hand over his mouth. Swiping right on Charlie W. had been a bit of a lark, really. Never in his wildest imagination did he expect the lad to swipe right back. Afterall, he was over ten years Remus’s junior and listed his hobbies as: Gym. Rock Climbing. Dog Lover, and listed his profession as: Equine Behavioral Consultant.

Twisting a pen around his fingers and grinning like a goon, Remus considered propping his feet atop the coffee table out of pure silliness. Were this to turn out to be a genuine match, Remus thought he might go out with the bloke, just to find out how large those arms were in person, and what the bloody hell his job actually entailed.

***🖋️***

Hiya Remus!

I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised to match with you. I was about to come up with a whole “hear me out” story before I remembered that you also swiped right, and I didn’t need to. You see, I’m a sucker for a good cardigan, a sharp mind, and gentle hands. You’ve got that “has read actual poetry and knows how to make eye contact” energy that I find sort of devastating, if I’m honest.

So here’s my pitch: one drink, one walk, or one cozy corner of a café. I’ll do my best to not embarrass myself or flirt too much, and you can school me on your favorite poetry. Worst case? You get a free coffee. Best case? Well, I’ll leave that to your imagination.

- Charlie

***🖋️***

Blushing furiously, Remus leaned forward, rested his chin on his fist, and smiled. Charlie sounded like a nice enough lad, all thirty-eight precious years of him, but he was a wee bit young. That said, it was certainly an ego boost, if Remus were being honest with himself.

As a result, his imagination was already running rampant with this one. Between Charlie the Gym Lad and Kingsley the Military Liaison, Remus’s mind was beginning to dive into orgasmic rainbow gutters deeper than the Mariana Trench. He hadn’t set out for that revolving door, but it may have found him, regardless. And he wasn’t so sure that he minded. What a palate cleanser either of them might be, after the abomination that was Gilderoy Lockhart.

Maybe both could be.

If Dora was out there sowing her wild oats, then why couldn’t he? It was innocent enough, after a divorce and a mid-life change, to enjoy a few promiscuities before settling down again. It wasn’t as though this were typical of him, nor was a date synonymous with a romp in the hay. Even if it were, he was allowed to loosen his tie and have a bit of fun. At least, that’s what Teddy kept telling him.

Ugh. Teddy.

There was his reason right there. Teddy had moved out of Dora’s home mere months before, after no longer being able to handle the influx of strangers loitering about the place. Watching his mother become a bubbling, provocative, sexual being had sent him running, and Remus couldn’t, in good conscience, repeat the experience for him.

Remus wasn’t a desperate man, nor was he an inconsiderate man.

No, he wasn’t. But, if was going to potentially entertain the idea, maybe those promiscuities ought to be with people closer to his own age, and at the very least in their homes. If even.

Good Lord, he was getting ahead of himself. They were just dates, a simple cup of tea and a biscuit.

Still, it would be very difficult to wipe the smile from his face at the idea that he, sweater-donning-academic-nerd Remus Lupin, had garnered the attention of two more handsome men.

---

Against Remus’s better judgment, Teddy strong-armed him into a date with Charlie.

And, to his utter delight, he followed it up with a decadent chocolate dessert that night, complete with mousse, and Remus’s new found understanding of the phrase, “Once you go black, you don’t go back.” Not that Teddy needed to know about that romp in the hay, or any future romps, for that matter.

“Let me get this straight.” His adorable, cherubic, if not overly involved, son flopped onto the sofa, putting his feet up on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around a decorative pillow. Remus shifted over to give him more room, and moved his laptop away from Teddy’s dirty socks. “You went on two dates yesterday? Mr. I’m-Not-Looking-For-A-Revolving-Door?”

“Going on dates isn’t the same thing, son,” Remus reminded him… and himself. “And, it would have only been one date if you hadn’t responded to Charlie behind my back.”

Cocking his chin to one side, Teddy held out a hand in his direction, as if to emphasize a point. “Dad, I’m as straight as uncooked spaghetti, and even I could see the potential there. So? How was it, then?”

This was not a conversation he wanted to have with Teddy, or anyone else for that matter. He did not need him to know that Charlie was, in fact, a dish. Nor did Teddy need to know that this quiet, studious father wouldn’t have minded being crushed between those boulder thighs, were it not for the dramatic age difference.

Focusing on the computer screen, Remus reread his email and made a few minor adjustments before pressing send.

“It was fine. He was nice, and for the price of two coffees I found out what an Equine Behavioral Consultant does for a living, when they’re not pounding protein at the gym.” Opening another email, as to not have to look his child in the eye, Remus continued, “And it would have never worked anyway. He has a tremendously large family, three dogs, and an ambition to open an animal sanctuary in Malvern Hills. Kind hearted ambitions, but I’d lose the plot, regardless if he was a dear… and goodlookingenoughforthebothofus.”

“I knew it!” Teddy pumped a fist in the air and roughly jostled Remus about. “You found him fucking fit.”

Lovingly shaking off his beloved child’s grip, Remus glanced his way, shook his head wearily, and began crafting his next email reply.

“If you hadn’t, I’d admit you to the mental health ward.” Teddy nudged him with his foot. “Better than that Lockhart bloke at least, yeah?”

“It wasn’t exactly a high bar.”

The room fell silent as Teddy’s laughter died down. Thank God.

“Did you snog him?”

“No!” Remus’s hands stopped dead on the keyboard.

Bloody hell. If he had, he wouldn’t be blabbing about it to his son.

“Well, why not?”

“Because I don’t go around snogging people I don’t intend on seeing again.”

Teddy huffed. “Prude.”

So far as Teddy was concerned, yes. Maybe even so far as Dora was concerned. Where Kingsley was concerned, was another story. Remus may have even once considered himself prude-adjacent, but after last night he would have to rethink his status. Charlie may have been the most literally fit bloke Remus had ever had the pleasure of taking out for coffee, but Kingsley was easily the most debonair, tender, and rough man he could have followed home. And he would do it all again.

“Are you blushing?” Teddy squinted, leaning in for an up-close and personal view of Remus’s complexion.

“What?” Remus asked, gently pushing Teddy’s face away.

“Your neck. It’s pink. And your face it’s pink - no it’s RED.” Teddy maneuvered out of his grip and sat up straight, tossing the pillow to the floor. “DAD. You did snog him!”

“No, I did not!”

“Then why are you so red?” Teddy teased. “There’s no shame in it, Pops. We’ve entered the enlightened twenty-first century, you know. I mean, as long as you’re happy, I don’t care who you snog.”

Taking a leaf from Teddy’s folder, Remus huffed and picked up the pillow from the floor, and smashed it between them.

“It wasn’t Charlie.”

Well, fuck. What he had actually meant to say was, ‘Thank you, Teds. That means a lot to me that you’re so supportive. It’s only been something I’ve been wanting to explore for the better half of my adult life, and why your mother left me in the first place.’

How the other managed to tumble out of his oversized mouth was beyond him.

Eyes growing wider and wider, until Remus was sure they were going to pop out of his head and shoot across the room, Teddy moved to the edge of the sofa.

“Kingsley? You swapped spit with that absolute unit?” he practically whispered.

And then some.

“We kissed,” Remus admitted, and left it at that. His child didn’t need further details of his glorious one night stand that, God willing, would hopefully become more.

“So you liked him? When’s the next date? I knew this was a good idea,” Teddy said this all very fast, and popped to his feet to circle around behind Remus to the kitchen. “This calls for leftover wine.”

Closing his eyes briefly, Remus tipped his head back. He had done this to himself, really. And damn it, he couldn’t stop smiling even when he tried. Being desired by another so fiercely had done wonders for his self-esteem and the libido he thought may have drained out with the long-coming end of his marriage.

With a nervous chuckle, Remus set aside the laptop, resigned for the time being. “Yeah, he was really quite nice. I would go out with him again, if he asked.”

“Why wait for him? Eye on the prize, Dad!” Teddy poured the wine over a decanter, his high-top socks sticking out against the black cabinets and the apparent gravity of the moment.

“Teddy, you should know there is an unspoken rule - I asked him out, now I wait for him to ask me out. That way, if he’s truly interested, I’ll know.”

And, truth be told, Remus wasn’t about to push his luck with the man. It had been too good a night to spoil it yet. With good reason, he wondered if - perhaps was absolutely certain that - he had come off as pathetic and a bit desperate the moment he whined in the back of his throat at Kingsley’s first touch. And second, and third. For his part, Kingsley didn’t seem to mind. But, that was beside the point.

The night before had opened him up to new horizons, previously unexplored, and he was eager for more. Not to mention that Remus was quite proud of himself, because unless he was much mistaken, neither of them would be sitting properly for the next few days. At least, he knew he wasn’t.

“What is this, going dutch on asking each other out? You make it so complicated.”

“Being patient isn’t complicated, Teddy. It’s mature. Kingsley seems very much the kind of man who knows what he wants, and won’t accept less. I’m quite happy to see if I meet his mark.”

Or if he was ever only meant to be a one night stand.

“I told you, you are dreadfully boring,” Teddy teased, handing over a half-full wine glass. “But, progress is progress. To playing the field!”

“I’m being pragmatic, love.” He held up his glass and clinked it against Teddy’s. “While you might be young and free, and auspiciously engaged in sexual conduct, I’m taking a different approach.”

Remus enjoyed a sip of wine while Teddy rolled the words around in his head, a look of slight disgust flitting across his face. It was hard to feel a modicum of shame for embarrassing the boy - not when he was fishing around for all the dirty details Remus was sure he ought to live without.

The rich, full bodied flavor of the wine reminded him of the warmth of Kingsley’s tongue, and his silky smile as gentle hands smoothed down his sides in the dimly lit, modern flat that Kingsley had guided him into after a lovely dinner and stroll along the Thames. It even had similar notes to the boner bunny gummy Kingsley had offered.

Hands pinned above his head, Remus sucked in a deep breath and locked eyes with the most beautifully intense man he had ever met. Intense, but gentle and singularly devoted to his task, Kingsley hovered above as he worked Remus open in ways he had only ever dreamt of.

“G…God, yes,” Remus panted, arching his back against the three slick fingers methodically pumping in and out. “P-Please. I think… I’m…”

“Not until I say you are,” the low rumble met his ears, Kingsley’s teeth closing in and nibbling on Remus’s lobe. “Now, one more.”

“Oh fuck.”

It really had been an exquisite night: Kingsley telling him about his travels around the world, and Remus sharing his awe for history found in literature. And, Remus was going to have to do some research into those gummies, maybe buy some for experimental purposes - you know, for academia.

“While I hope to hear from him again, I’m open to entertaining some other dates,” Remus told Teddy, and he was grateful to note the relief in Teddy’s visage. Remus was just relieved Teddy couldn’t see the scene playing on loop in his head. “And no, it’s not a revolving door, it’s just coffee, maybe a drink, and maybe a stroll in a park with a guy who isn’t a pathological creep.”

“That’s fair,” Teddy agreed with a toothy grin. “Shall we take another look and see some of those other matches? I heard your phone chime twice earlier.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Remus mused, but the excitement on Teddy’s face was infectious, so he pulled his phone out of its holster and handed it over.

“We’re going to have to talk about that, one of these days.” Teddy nodded to the holster. “It’s not a good look.”

“What’s wrong with it? I don’t like wearing holes in my back pockets. I pay good money for these trousers,” Remus defended himself through Teddy’s side-long glance. “And it’s practical. Easy to grab at a moment’s notice.”

“You aren’t in a Western.” Teddy plugged in Remus’s numerical code and unlocked the screen. “What do you need a quickdraw for?”

Kicking his son, with the utmost love, Remus smiled and leaned back into the arm of the sofa. It really was hard to stay irritated with him when it was because of him Remus had experienced one of the best shags of his life. So, if Teddy ribbing him was what it took for them to bond together over his dating life, he would take it. For now.

“Alright, let’s see… Spellbound… Spellbound. Oh, here it is.” Teddy’s face lit up. “We really need to reorganize your apps one of these days. Whatever system you’re using is abysmal.”

“Do you mind?” Remus sighed. “Is there nothing I can do right in your eyes?”

Teddy smirked. “Snogging someone new was a step in the right direction.”

“You’re mental, you know that?”

“It’s not mental to want to see my father happy.”

Remus felt the corners of his mouth turn up, and he didn’t bother to try and hide it this time.

It was strange how life had taken a turn to bring them here, after so many years trapped in a loving, but loveless marriage with Teddy’s mother. Never in his wildest dreams did Remus ever imagine he would be getting dating advice from his offspring. And yet, there was something special about your normally self-serving young adult child not only caring about you, but admitting as much in words that melted Remus’s heart. He could accept all the teasing if it meant having a glimpse into the morphing adult father-son relationship that was developing.

“Okay, let’s see then…” Teddy scrolled down the list, tilting his head to the side, back and forth. “Let’s see. Hmm. Okay, this Dirk bloke looks alright. He’s a chemist. Not bad.”

“Yeah, but his message was a little lackluster. Too basic.” Remus shrugged and took another sip of wine. “And there were a few too many typos for my comfort.”

Glancing up at him, Teddy sighed, “Okay, how about Quir… Quirinus?”

“Name’s too much of a mouthful. I’d never get used to it. Plus, his profile says he believes in a garlic-heavy diet. His breath alone must be unbearable. Next?”

Appearing to take a deep, steadying breath, in place of a response, Teddy ignored him and continued. “Barty C…. It looks like he obtained multiple A-Levels and other qualifications, but it doesn’t show any profession listed… That’s a little odd.”

Remus took another sip of wine. “Yeah, I’m not interested in chasing after someone who can’t be bothered to complete his profile, or possibly has zero work experience.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Teddy acquiesced and scrolled again. “Then how about… Hmm… Oh, wow. Dad, this guy Sirius -”

“The leather jacket, motorcycle riding hooligan?” Remus scoffed. “I was two glasses of wine in at that point, I think. I’m actually surprised we matched. But, I’m not so sure I’m into the whole bad boy persona these days. I’m not sixteen anymore.”

“He’s smokin’, though.” Teddy’s eyes lit up in the way that told Remus he was in big trouble. “And, according to his profile he’s a social worker that works with at-risk youth. That doesn’t sound like a bad boy very much to me. And he lives in Islington. That must mean he comes from money.”

“Which isn’t everything, Teddy, need I remind you?”

“I’m going to message him.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Do you even remember his profile?” Teddy asked, staring at him like he had grown an extra set of ears out of the top of his head. “Let me refresh you.”

Remus sighed.

✶✰✶
Bio Highlights:
Unapologetic Bi | Motorbike Enthusiast | Godfather Extraordinaire
Reformed bad boy. Mostly.
Name: Sirius B.
Age: 52
Location: Islington, London
Profession: Social Worker, Specializing in advocacy for at-risk youth
About me: The bisexual older man your therapist warned you about. At least, I used to be before life settled me in unexpected ways. I once got banned from a party for starting a debate about which GOT characters are gay. Definitely someone’s villain origin story. I’m a natural born flirt, but if I like you, you’ll know.
Looking For: Someone with a quiet kind of strength. Someone who reads poetry and makes it hurt. Someone who reminds me I don’t always have to be the storm, but who can also match my sarcasm.
✶✰✶

“No, Teddy,” Remus repeated. “It sounds like a teenager wrote that profile. If that’s how he truly conducts himself, I’m not sure I want to go there.”

“What are you talking about?” Teddy cried. “He sounds wicked awesome.”

“He sounds like an overgrown child.”

“He sounds like you, if you would let yourself have fun once in a while.”

Teddy wasn’t wrong. There had once been a time when Remus admired those of his peers brave enough to have the kind of uninhibited fun that he was too practical to enjoy. He recalled watching dormmates with their motorbikes, who drank inordinate amounts of alcohol from a funnel, hung out of sunroofs on the motorway, and quit their jobs without any backup plans. And he was envious every time.

He had been raised to be practical to a fault, always holding back, always being responsible. And then, he met Dora. With her vibrant, vivacious, unencumbered personality, he was able to live vicariously through her. For years he watched as she raised their one and only child with the same abandon and zest for life, all the while, he sat back and observed, pretending to be content with his reservations, while wishing to be a part of it.

“I’ll think about it, Teds,” Remus relented. “Just, let’s table it for now.”

“Heh.” Teddy’s thumbs began tapping at the phone furiously. “I don’t think so. This one has too much potential to waste on your denial. Besides, are you really telling me you don’t want a ride around the city on his bike? He seems like the type that would give you one.”

Teddy was like a terrier in a handbag, and Remus knew there was no stopping him from writing (and sending) a flirty message to the leather-clad “bisexual older man your therapist warned you about”. At least, not without ruining the moment.

If they weren’t bonding, perhaps Remus wouldn’t have allowed it. But, once again, Teddy was too keen for Remus to be able to pull the wool over his eyes. In fact, Remus had gone back and looked at Sirius B’s profile more than once, if only for the picture of him leaning against his motorbike with a black dog at his feet, and that incredibly messy hair that said he refused to ride with a helmet.

Deep in his groin, a tiny spark ignited, and it was hard to deny. Until he heard back from Kingsley, he had planned to hold off on meeting Sirius B. But he didn’t have to.

Remus wasn’t a desperate man, but he was, apparently, a very randy man.

“C’est la vie,” Remus sighed. “But, please let me see it before you send it.”

***🖋️***

Sirius,

You seem like the sort of trouble a sensible professor shouldn’t get involved with, but what’s life without a bit of chaos? It’s been at least three decades since I’ve been on the back of a motorcycle, and I’m thinking there’s no time like the present to break that streak. Perhaps we can go for a spin around the city one of these nights.

I too enjoy debating the sexual preference of fictional characters and wonder if we agree upon who we might have a fictitious chance with. Bonus points if you can make me laugh so hard I nearly spill my tea.

Looking forward to it,

Remus

***🖋️***

He watched as Teddy pressed ‘send’ with a wave of trepidation and a glimmer of unworthy excitement at the thought of Sirius B. answering back.

---

Standing just inside a small pub on the corner, Remus tugged at the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt, and adjusted the cardigan wrapped over his shoulders and neatly tied at his neck. Teddy would absolutely roast him for wearing his brown khakis and cardigan to meet with the bad boy, but in the end, Remus had come straight from the university. Besides, he had to remember that Sirius had swiped right on him, and his old-man-professor aesthetic.

It didn’t appear that Sirius B. had arrived, and Remus stood there wondering what he should do next. One would think at fifty-one-years-old, he would have developed bystanding plans for such occasions. But no. Not when he was going out on a date with someone the likes of Sirius. Should he go and order a pint, and sip it while waiting as if he hadn’t a care in the world? Or should he go back outside and lean against the old brick, waiting politely as if he enjoyed nothing more than people watching? Perhaps he could slide into the corner table and pull out his book.

In the end, Remus approached the bar, making eye contact with the bartender and ordering two pints of lager and some pretzel bites. It felt like a safe bet, no dairy or eggs Sirius might be allergic to, no nuts or strange flavors, just a very basic appetizer to soak up some of the alcohol. At the corner table (because yes, he preferred to be able to watch the door over the corner of his book) Remus settled in.

He couldn’t believe he was there, waiting for a man one year his senior and a lifetime his junior - at least in personality. Remus wanted to have fun, to let loose and really taste the excitement of life. But, in his heart of hearts, he was too wise, too old, and too content to need more than a nice fire behind the hearth and a book in hand.

And yet, his heart fluttered at the very possibility of having an impetuous person in his life once again.

The kind of person who came to a pub wearing a graphic tee and leather trousers, apparently.

But, holy fuck, Sirius looked really quite nice as he ran a hand through his hair and surveyed the establishment.

Taking a swig of beer, Remus watched silently, intent on looking the man up and down as he sauntered to the bar and spoke with the barkeep.

He leaned at just the right angle for the light to catch and frame his tight arse, which was fabulously round and dressed in shiny black leather for all to see. He was tall and lean enough for the worn graphic tee to ride up just a touch, showing a thin band of pale skin, which Remus imagined tanned nice and golden, were the man ever to ride his motorbike without a shirt. But, goddamn those trousers. For a split second, Remus’s imagination raced toward dangerous waters as he wondered how difficult it was to pull on those trousers - or to take them off, given the chance.

“Remus?”

Remus shook himself out of his reverie as Sirius pulled out a chair and turned it around, letting it scrape against the wooden floor without care. He wore a half smile on his face as he straddled the chair and rested his exquisitely toned forearms across the back. A finger pointed to the beer, sitting untouched on the table, and Sirius chuckled briefly.

“I see we’ve both ordered,” Sirius said.

Oh, shite. Rookie mistake, that.

Remus groaned inwardly, chastising himself for getting so caught up in his own head. This fine-looking, motorcycle riding, free spirit, was far too cheeky and suave for the likes of him.

Looking between Sirius and the pints of beer, Remus shrugged, trying to put on an air of indifference that felt as foreign as a fur coat.

“I was hoping this social engagement would last long enough for us to need more than just the one beer.” He felt heat creeping up beneath his collar. “Perhaps I was being… optimistic.”

A thick eyebrow slowly raised up over one steely grey eye, and a dimple appeared when a small, crooked smile formed in slow motion.

“Ah.” Sirius reached for the pint of beer that had left a small puddle of moisture on the coaster between them. “Let’s see how you did, then. A man’s choice of beer says a lot about him.”

Somewhere behind his navel, Remus felt a long-dormant squirm manifest itself. It was as familiar as the smell of rain, but no one had awakened that sensation in him since the arts professor who only lasted a term the year prior - the one he had fancied and desperately fawned over in his waking dreams, but who had never given him a passing glance. All this in the wake of Dora acknowledging, ‘We haven’t been in love for years, dear. And we both know I’m just not anatomically your type,” (and a solicitor serving divorce papers shortly after).

Licking foam off his lips, Sirius put the beer back down. “You know, I’m not usually one for lagers, but I may have to reconsider. We’ll have to see what you think of the stout.”

His eyes had a sort of challenge in them, a subtle twinkle that spread goose pimples down Remus’s spine.

Setting his book aside, Remus leaned forward.

“What does my choice say about me, then?”

“Hm.” Sirius considered him. “Well, it depends upon what else you ordered.”

Remus pushed his beer toward Sirius, wordlessly offering it. With the genial shake of his head, Sirius took it, drinking slowly, one gulp, and then another before he slid it back.

“Well?” Remus prodded, enjoying the feeling of the psychological cat and mouse game between them.

“You have good taste - in beer and men.” Sirius paused, his fingers running up and down the sweating glass in front of him. “You’re a no-nonsense type of bloke, confident and content, risk averse. You know what you like and you stick to it.”

Sirius had no idea how uncannily right he was. And it was honestly a bit unnerving that he had pinpointed so much about him - whether from the beer or the profile - or simply the fact that Sirius was a social worker and read people for a living. Which meant Remus was really out of his depth.

Popping a pretzel bite into his mouth, Remus smiled. “Did you get all of that from studying my profile? Or are you just a consummate analyst?”

“Professional bullshitter, actually.” Sirius smirked. “It’s in the job description.”

“So, am I to assume that your profile is utter hogwash? Or is there some truth to the guise you’ve developed?”

With a hearty laugh, Sirius shook his head, right as the waiter delivered two stouts and a dish of jalapeno poppers.

“Actually, my godson wrote most of that. He fancies himself a dating profile aficionado - which is hilarious when you consider that he’s never been on a date before. But, he set me up on literally every dating app he could find, and put his personal touch on everything, since he seemed to think that would garner me the, ‘best chance of finding dates.’” Sirius included air quotes with his hands.

“Oh.” Remus smiled. “I guess that’s my cue to confess?”

“Go on,” Sirius nudged with a coy grin, biting into a jalapeno popper.

“That message you received from me? My son crafted it, with love, and at least a modicum of dramatization.” Remus played at the thin paper liner under the jalapeno poppers, eyeing them instead of Sirius.

Sirius leaned his head back, letting loose a deep laugh that rumbled through his chest and made his Adam's apple bob tantalizingly.

“I actually tried to run him off the idea,” Remus remarked, then quickly added, “I guess we’ve both been played.”

“Well then.” Sirius straightened up and stuck out his hand, all the while, tilting his head to one side empathetically. “If that’s the case, introductions are in order. I’m Sirius Black. Nice to meet you.”

Remus didn’t know what to expect when he took Sirius’s hand, but it was rougher than he had anticipated for someone who, presumably, sat behind a desk most of the day. Fleeting images of long motorcycle rides, wood working, and shirtless gardening came to mind, giving him plenty of ideas for things to politely grill him on over the next hour.

“Remus Lupin. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

And he was, more than he would ever let on to Teddy afterwards. In fact, in the five minutes since Sirius had sat down, Remus had gone from skeptical, to interested, to quite pleased that he had decided to allow Teddy that father-son bonding moment.

“Tell me about yourself, Sirius. Do you really have a motorbike, or just a picture with one? Are you a social worker or a con artist?”

There was every possibility that Remus would offend Sirius with the line of questioning, but instead he was rewarded with a genuine smile as the man stood and turned the chair around, finally settling in.

“My motorbike gets me everywhere, she’s my pride and joy, second only to my godson, Harry. He’s the reason I became a social worker. He’s the reason for a lot of things, actually.”

And that's how it started. Sirius told Remus all about how he went back to grad school at the ripe age of thirty-nine, after becoming a father overnight to a cheeky and quite sad three-year-old. How, before that, he had been listless, a reckless youthful-type who skived off school and was disowned from the family fortune because he really hated the idea of becoming a doctor in the family’s practice, which worked underground with crime syndicates.

Sirius Black was fascinating, and not at all two-dimensional or rash sounding, as Remus had predicted. In no time, he felt his shoulders relax after the first pint of beer, and he sank into the second as he listened to the articulate craftsmanship that was Sirius’s storytelling.

“... And when Harry’s parents died - it was… well, it was awful. But it woke me up. I was working for my uncle, doing real estate, and I hated it. I was quite good at it, but I loathed how slimy I felt when convincing potential buyers to look at this or try that, especially when I could read the bad decision making a kilometer away. The money was good, but I finally realized there was something I cared so much more about.”

“What was that?” Remus asked.

“Adopting Harry wasn’t easy. The system was difficult to navigate, but I was up for the challenge. James was my brother in all but blood, and his in-laws never wanted Harry. They were only keeping him out of obligation and treated him like a third class citizen. After months and months, I finally managed to get him home with me, and that’s when it occurred to me that a lot of other kids needed the same thing Harry had. I started my program a few months later, it just made sense.”

“You went back to get a graduate degree mere months after adopting a three-year-old? They’re terrors. And I can’t begin to imagine the trauma you were both experiencing.”

Intelligent, spontaneous, passionate. Sirius had that quality that pointed to someone who seemed to bend the will of the universe to him, instead of the other way around. Maybe that was why Remus couldn’t help but fall into his shining, charismatic trap before they even left the pub. Or, perhaps, it was the way that Sirius felt as familiar as a well-worn jumper that no longer sat correctly on his shoulders, but that he craved all the same.

Three hours, and another two beers on, Remus had told Sirius about his twenty-two year long marriage that was both wonderful and chaotic and, in the end, only somewhat satisfactory. He told him how he and Dora were still the best of friends, despite falling out of love, and how Teddy was the best thing that had ever happened to him, but that he might draw the line at funding a third degree, if Teddy never opened the restaurant he was intending to run with his first two (“He’s bleeding me dry.”). Sirius was just amazed that Remus had raised a child who was willing to go through the effort of obtaining two degrees back-to-back (“Damn, he must have your intelligence and discipline.”), and that might have been the highest form of compliment he had ever received.

They were steadily making their way through a shared platter of deep fried onion rings and potato skins, when Sirius pulled his ringing phone out of his pocket and answered, “Hey, kiddo.”

The one sided conversation was short, if adorable. The way Sirius smiled when talking to his fifteen-year-old godson-turned-son, took Remus’s breath away and he vowed to never take a phone call from Teddy for granted again. When he hung up, Sirius smiled and looked Remus up and down as if he were sizing up how fast Remus may or may not run from the table.

“Harry’s staying at a friend’s place tonight, so my evening just opened up,” he said.

“Oh? My cardigan and love for boring poetry hasn’t chased you off yet?” Remus teased.

Tilting his head, Sirius wiggled his hand just above the table in a 50/50 manner. “That’s entirely up to how you answer my next question.” He paused for effect, then stood up. “Do you really want a ride around the city on my motorbike? Or did Teddy make that up as well?”

Imagining his body pressed against Sirius’s back, and how his arms and thighs might wrap around that slim waist, would have been enough to say yes. But more than that, Remus simply didn’t want to have to say goodbye yet.

“I really want a ride.”

And Remus’s only regret, to that point, was not wearing jeans.

---

The very last place Remus expected their motorbike ride to take them was to the London Bowling Club green and a rented croquet set. And yet there they were, helmet hair atop their heads, Remus’s slacks a little dingier than they started out that morning, and his thighs pleasantly sore from gripping Sirius from behind.

Yes, the gripping had been necessary… if only for the thrill of getting away with it so easily.

Remus knew how to play croquet, of course. The stars in the sky couldn’t number the family reunions and university staff socials he had attended with a croquet lawn, front and center. Yet, what came as an unexpected surprise was just how proficient Sirius was at it, and how good those leather pants looked contrasted against the stuffiness of the place.

“You don’t get through three of the finest English boarding schools without a thorough knowledge on all things croquet and polo,” Sirius had told him, after knocking the ball through the fifth hoop in a row, never having once come close to hitting the bars, and courteously not bouncing off Remus’s ball. “Besides, it beats golf, and I only have to work up a sweat if I want to.” He spun the mallet around in his hand. “James and I used to race each other during our prep school days. Might as well have been doing sprints, and it drove our instructors mental.”

Somehow the thought of Sirius working up a sweat playing croquet made perfect sense. He was the only one on the green sporting leather pants and a graphic tee, and he would have thoroughly scored Remus under the table, were he not clearly holding himself back so they could go at the same pace.

The thoughtfulness alone made Remus want to hold his hand or grab his arse, and he was exercising great restraint from doing either, or both.

“Were you the sporty type then?” Setting up his next move, Remus shifted his weight from one foot to the other, before swinging the mallet between his legs. “The most athletic thing I ever did in secondary school was climb the bookcases in the library - although, I admit, I was quite talented at it.”

“Oh no, that was all Jamie. But I think I would have quite enjoyed watching you climb those bookcases. Do you still practice?”

“Ha.” Remus watched as his ball veered to the right and beyond the hoop, a mistake that would set him back at least three turns. He groaned and shook his head before he answered. “My students would enjoy that much more than my lectures, I assure you. But, I’m afraid I prefer other activities these days.”

Barely looking at his ball, Sirius nudged it forward a few centimeters, clearly leveling the playing field. “Shame, that. What are your preferred activities?”

Remus’s phone buzzed in his pocket, catching him off guard. Teddy vehemently insisted he go sans-holster on this date, and it was with unpracticed fingers that he fished it out from the depths of his front pocket.

💬 Kingsley S | 7:33 PM
Hello Remus, how are you? I had quite an enjoyable time the other evening. Fancy a repeat tonight? I’ll be home by ten.
No pressure.

💬 Kingsley S | 7:34 PM
(Unless requested.)

“Is that your son?” Sirius asked.

“No.” Remus cleared his throat and shoved the phone in his pocket. “It’s no one.”

Glancing up at him, Sirius gave him a quick appraising look and smirked, before looking back down at the ball, squaring up, and sending it gently rolling through the hoop.

“Do you always blush when you get a text from ‘no one’?” he asked, before moving aside so that Remus could start his ball’s long journey back to the front of the hoop.

“Wow, that obvious, huh?”

“You look like Harry does at the mere mention that a girl he fancies might fancy him back,” Sirius explained. “Take a couple extra shots. No one’s looking.”

Feeling his blush deepen, Remus shrugged. “If you insist, but don’t say that I didn’t -”

And, with that he sent his ball careening into Sirius’s, knocking it a whole two meters away from where he had carefully, diligently kept it.

“Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I can’t believe this.” Sirius held a hand over his dramatically bleeding heart. “After everything I’ve done for you. Never in all my first dates…”

“I needed to earn the extra couple of hits, didn’t I?” Remus retorted quickly.

In the end, Remus lost with great finesse, and Sirius offered to buy them a treacle tart to numb the sting. Together, they made their way through the triangle of rich tart, and between bites, Sirius prodded while Remus made another confession about his recent dating escapades.

“ - and, I don’t know, the next day, I couldn’t wait to hear back from him. But, the longer it’s been… I decided he was rather intense for me.” Taking one last bite, Remus savored it as he pondered over Kingsley, amazed that Sirius waited for him to finish regaling the tale, with the patience of a curious, celibate monk. “I’m not sure if I'm actually attracted to the idea of being both terrified and satisfied simultaneously. Perhaps I was just exploring my options.”

Exchanging his fork for a napkin, Sirius chuckled, the slight shake of his head the only indication that he may have found the admission awkward.

“That’s… good to know.” He stood. “I’ll file that tid-bit of useful information away while you tell him that you’re preoccupied tonight - assuming that you would like to continue this evening as much as I would.”

Remus felt himself blush, again.

“And by that, I mean,” Sirius added hastily, “since Harry isn’t home for the evening, walking the dog falls to me. Would you like to join me?”

He might be getting ahead of himself, and he had never really wanted to own a dog, but he wouldn’t mind having one if Sirius was the trade off.

Remus Lupin wasn’t a desperate man. He was, however, a hopeful man.

–--

Remus's fingers brushed against Sirius's, hesitant at first, unsure of making the first move. It was silly, of course. After three micro-dates in the same night, he felt perfectly at ease with the man, and not at all befuddled and blustered as he had expected he might. Make no mistake - Remus imagined that’s exactly how he might have felt, if they had met when they were much younger, when he was more desperate and inexperienced.

There was hardly time to rethink his actions, however, as Sirius immediately turned his palm up, open and waiting, for Remus to lace their fingers together. There was no hesitancy on his part, just eager confidence, as though he had been waiting for Remus to be ready. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Sirius’s shoulders relaxed, and the quiet ease that followed said more than words.

The gesture was more intimate than Remus expected out of a first date, and not in the I-hope-I-get-into-those-leather-trousers-later kind of way. No. He was reminded of family walks in the park with Dora and Teddy, and the deep, unconditional love he had for them both - and, he ached for that kind of familiarity again.

“So, tell me, Remus. Do you believe in luck?” Sirius asked, as he gripped his dog’s leash a little tighter against the mutt’s sniffari exuberance.

Remus pondered that for a moment.

“Yeah, I think I do. I also believe in working your arse off for the things you want, and evaluating every opportunity as it presents itself. But, there has to be some element of luck involved at times. For instance, I know every applicant for my professorship was as qualified as I was, and yet somehow I ended up with the position. That had to be luck.”

“Or,” Sirius quietly corrected him, “you earned it and they could see more potential in you than they did in the others.”

Biting his lip against a ridiculously giddy grin, Remus rubbed a finger over the span of skin between Sirius’s thumb and forefinger. How a single compliment, from this self-proclaimed ‘reformed bad boy’, could be worth more than any professional accolade, was beyond him. He had just met the bloke, and still…

“Are you trying to dissuade me from believing in luck? Or are you just surprised you won our match?” Remus joked. “Because, I maintain that you cheated. You distracted me with your bloody dimpled grin. The entire time, I might add.”

“Yes, well, I had a bloody fit professor wrapped around my waist for twenty minutes before that. So, you’ll have to forgive the grinning. I’m afraid it’s a permanent fixture now.”

Well, holy shite, if that didn’t make his cheeks burn.

The dog pulled at his leash, eliciting a quiet ‘oof’ from Sirius.

“Padfoot!” he barked softly, if that was possible, and the dog immediately returned to his side. Which, in some odd way, was also attractive - whether because Remus was wrapped up in too much oxytocin, or because watching Sirius regain full control over his dog reinforced the building trust Remus had in him.

“Be honest,” Sirius said, running a soothing hand over Padfoot’s head, filling the awkward pause. “Did you trust me to not kill us, or did you just decide it would be a good way to go?”

“What, the ride or…?”

“Yeah, the ride. It was a bit bollocks, don’t you think? I’m a complete stranger.”

Remus chuckled. He wasn’t wrong, and yet, Remus didn’t have an explanation beyond the shallow thought that wound through his head. Embarrassing as it was, there was no way around it.

“Well, you’re damn good looking, and the opportunity presented itself. So, I suppose in the beginning I did consider it a good way to go. But now…” He shrugged. “My turn, then. Riddle me this: do you always wear leather trousers?”

A laugh burst out of Sirius, deep and unapologetic.

“Absolutely not,” he laughed. “I’ve worn these twice in ten years, and both of those times were a massive mistake. Really, I thought it would either hook you or scare you off. This time, I guess it wasn’t a mistake.”

“Oh, thank God,” Remus sighed, hiding the hiccup of a laugh in his throat. “They look phenomenal on you, but all I keep thinking is how much your balls are sweating right now.”

The conversation continued as they meandered around the park, complete with a banter that felt organic and lovely, as if they had been friends for far longer than a few hours. At one point, Remus leaned into Sirius, walking closer, refraining himself from a small peck on the cheek in a fleeting moment of temptation.

He wondered if Sirius felt the same, and how insane he must be. With Gilderoy, he couldn't wait to leave. With Charlie, it was all unresolved curiosity and awkwardness. With Kingsley, they skipped the pleasantries and fell right into the kinky world of one-or-possibly-more night stands. And while the last one had been fun, it wasn’t at all who Remus was as a person.

Perhaps, what he and Sirius were doing now was how a date was supposed to go. It had been so long since he'd gone on a first date that went this well, that he didn’t even know anymore.

“Okay, serious question,” Sirius asked as they rounded the corner onto the city pavement and away from the park. “What’s your most irrational fear?”

“Irrational?” Remus repeated, buying himself a little time to think, and debating if he should be honest, or pick something banal or obtuse. In the end, he chose honesty. “There is a part of me that fears being pitied, and that pity would make me weak or undesirable.”

“Wow, you sound like you’ve been thinking about that,” Sirius remarked. “Therapy?”

“No, but I probably should,” Remus admitted, taking a few deep breaths before he went on. “After the divorce, I wondered if there was something fundamentally wrong with me, and if, in turn, everyone had pity for what I had become.”

“Remus.” Sirius stopped briefly to lock eyes with him, attempting to impart some understanding between them. “I work with teenagers every single day who come from incredibly broken homes with parents who are nothing less than damaged, or just utter rubbish human beings. More often than not, I find myself losing what little faith in humanity I have. But, I’ve only known you for a few hours, and from what I’ve observed, you’re one of the good ones. You seem like the kind of person who has it together, who has gone through something incredibly painful and challenging with a level of grace and self-assurance. Tell me, would Teddy agree with your assessment?”

With great difficulty, Remus closed his floundering mouth. “I don’t know. He was sure insistent on me dating, as if being alone is a fault of its own.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not the same,” Sirius said, squeezing his hand in assurance. “That tells me that Teddy knows you well enough to know you were lonely, and that you are more at peace with a companion. He just wants you to be happy.”

It was sweet, and absolutely ridiculous that a simple truth made his heart flutter. Suddenly, the temptation to kiss Sirius returned, and this time, Remus didn’t hold back. His lips met Sirius’s cheek, feeling the tiny bit of stubble that had grown in from the morning, and the way that Sirius’s face filled out with a smile.

“What about you?” Remus asked through his wonderfully racing heart, hastening the moment forward.

“Ugh,” Sirius groaned. “I guess turnaround is fair play.” He niggled at his lip. “I’m afraid of being a terrible parent, like mine were: strict, uncaring, abusive, stuck in old, useless traditions. Afterall, if they are what I had to learn from, what assurance is there that I can do better? Harry certainly deserves better.”

And in a split-second, Sirius became more than a complicated bad boy who could flirt and banter and pull off leather trousers at a croquet club. Even without knowing him very well, Remus could see the hurting little boy who grew up to fight for others. A little boy who took his pain and spun it into something good, and pure, and right.

“He deserves more than a man who fought to get him out of a neglectful, terrible situation? Or more than a father who changed his whole career to help other kids? At the very least, Padfoot seems well taken care of, and I’d guess you offer even more to Harry.”

It was sickening. It was sweet. And Remus watched in real time, as something hopeful and bright shone through a glimmer of pain in Sirius’s eyes. He had a feeling this man wore his heart on his sleeve, but rarely asked for the reassurances and love that he needed in return.

“Is that why you’re still single? Because you put everything into Harry, and maybe, if you weren't, you think you’d become your parents?” Remus gently prompted.

“Something like that, I guess.” Sirius shrugged. “As it turns out, I could use a bit of therapy as well.”

They walked like that, the rest of the way to the rowhome, hand in hand, quiet and contemplating, Padfoot frolicking and then pulling at his leash with fervor as they neared the front door.

After the walk, it turned out that despite the late hour, Remus still wasn’t sure he wanted to leave. And, if Sirius holding his hand the entire walk was any indication, Sirius didn’t want him to leave either. The fact that Sirius took his hand again, after Padfoot was set loose inside the row home, sealed the deal for him.

It was the first time since Dora that holding another’s hand didn’t result in an immediate need to scrub his skin raw with an abrasive cleanser. And it was the first time since Dora, that Remus didn’t feel the need to run away or prove himself through some kinky sort of roleplay.

But, Sirius was no Gilderoy, and he definitely was no Kingsley. He was, as Goldilocks would say, ‘just right’, in the most unexpected, endearing way.

Sirius poured them each a nightcap, without asking, and led Remus into the tastefully adorned study where he pulled Remus down next to him.

“Bit nippy still,” Sirius commented, offering Remus a blanket and then sliding part of it over his own lap as well.

“You live in a beautiful area of the city,” Remus acknowledged, wondering briefly how a social worker could afford such an expensive home, and if he did another kind of underground work with crime syndicates after all. “Family home?”

“Sort of.” Sirius dallied, tilting his head back and forth. “I took the money from the sale of that home and bought this one instead. There was no way I would subject Harry to living in my childhood home, no matter how well the area serves our needs.” He turned to face Remus, running a hand over his knee. “We were doing just fine in Crouch End, but Hogwarts Prep was a forty-five minute ride each way, and with no tube it was draining us both to get Harry to and from school every day.”

If Remus had thought the home impractical before, it only made Sirius seem more of a match now.

“It’s lovely,” Remus commented, his eyes wandering the room and stopping on a large leatherbound book with an adorable picture of a boy who looked to be about five years old, complete with a missing front tooth, untamable hair, and the most prim ascot Remus had ever set eyes on. “Is that Harry?”

“Oh, yeah. He was cute, once upon a time.” Sirius winked as he pulled the book onto his lap. “I’ve been printing my favorite photos and adding them into here, old school style. I guess it’s become a bit of a project.”

“You scrapbook?” Remus teased.

Honestly, it was fucking attractive.

“No,” Sirius said. “Well… I prefer to call it compiling memories with appropriate documentation.”

“Awww, you scrapbook.” Remus smiled, leaning into him. “It’s adorable.”

“You’re adorable,” Sirius said.

Remus was mesmerized by the sparkle in his steely eyes, as Sirius moved his hand up his leg, the other cupping his face and pulling him in until their lips touched.

He tasted fantastic, like smoked oak and mellowed hops with a faint tang of aftershave. The familiarity of the bitterness of Guinness beer, and the exotic hint of old leather in his nose engulfed Remus. The warmth of those lips, and then the tip of Sirius’s warm tongue, pulled him under until nothing else occupied his mind but the two of them.

At least, for the brief seconds before Sirius pulled back with a soft grin.

“Are you sure you don’t want to text your beau back?” He ran a warm hand down from Remus’s neck to his shoulder. “I don’t want to ruin whatever good thing you have going…”

The message sat ‘unread’ in his queue, in part because Remus hadn’t really known which circus he was choosing that night - if either, and in part because it was well after ten and he wanted to be present with Sirius. It was only fair.

“It would be quite rude of me to leave your company for a booty call,” Remus answered.

And, given the choice, he rather wanted to see what flavor of sex cream Sirius was, instead of partaking in the same flavor twice in a row.

To playing the field, as it were. Teddy would be proud. And disgusted.

“Besides, I’m not ready to leave,” Remus continued, threading his fingers through Sirius’s and lowering them to his chest. “If that’s alright with you.”

If he forgot to text Teddy to let him know he would be late, it was no one’s business but his own.

Snogging Sirius Black was nothing like snogging Kingsley, or Dora, or anyone else Remus had ever kissed, for that matter. He was warm and gentle, but deft with his tongue and subtle with his well-placed hands which made Remus’s toes curl, and left him breathless. With Sirius, he didn’t feel the need to be performative, and even though they did little more than kiss, Remus was left feeling more gratified than any dalliance with Kingsley would have made him.

Being himself was exactly what Sirius seemed to want. He read between the lines, knew and accepted, desired even, to meet Remus where he was at. In some ways, Sirius perhaps even knew better than Remus, what it was he needed most.

Cocooned between the back of the sofa and Sirius, Remus revelled in the feel of one of Sirius’s hands in his hair, the other smoothing over his shirt along his waist and shoulder, their breath mingling as the room melted away. It was comfortable and lovely, until the friction of the leather trousers was stifling and brought Remus closer and closer to the edge. Shifting, with a blossoming desire and the need to really feel Sirius, Remus rolled until his groin settled over Sirius’s thigh, giving way to easy movement and a near lack of control over both of their rapidly swelling cocks.

His only complaint was that it ended too soon.

“Remus,” Sirius breathed into his mouth, his intake of breath sharp and guttural. “Wait.”

A gentle hand massaged down his chest, pulling at the collar of his shirt as if to adjust the air between them.

Heat engulfing his face, Remus breathed deep, orienting himself and pulling his hips back to hover over Sirius.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Was that too forward?”

“It’s not that,” Sirius assured him, lips pressed to the corner of Remus’s mouth. “It’s just… I don’t want to be another one you’re having it off with.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not out for just a shag,” Sirius said, cupping his cheek and smoothing his hair back. “I like you a lot more than I expected. And I don’t want to fuck that up.”

“Oh.” Remus hesitated, rolling the idea around his head as he considered how he felt. His dick wanted a shag, but his heart was soaring at the idea that Sirius was enamoured enough to be looking for more than a physical connection. “That’s really…” He wanted to say sweet, but it wasn't the right moment. “That’s okay.”

Sirius leaned in, kissing Remus along his forehead and cheek.

“Please, don’t misunderstand. It’s just that I haven’t exactly been known to take it slow, and look where it’s gotten me in life,” he explained. “I don’t want to live that way anymore. I don’t need a different shag every week. I want more than just a casual hook up. I want something real. And, maybe it’s too forward to say this now, but I think I’d like to at least try that with you.”

Silence hung in the air, not because Remus was upset. Quite the contrary. He was speechless, weightless, reeling with the confession.

“If you need to get some things out of your system first, I understand,” Sirius hastily added. “I just told myself I wouldn’t do that again. I want to date you, not fuck you.”

Remus laughed. “Your honesty is refreshing.”

He relaxed into Sirius, resting his head on the strong chest, running his fingers along his neck to feel his jaw.

“I agree, I’d really like to see where this could go, too.”

---

The sky was just barely beginning to turn pink as Remus closed the front door behind him.

It was quiet and still in the modest two-story home, near the worst coffee shop in Ravenclaw Heights, which was, quite inconveniently, not yet open for the day. Teddy’s moped was parked out front, with his Converse by the front door, and it was clear he was still fast asleep in the early dawn hours. Miraculously, the house was still well-kept, and Remus was warmed by the fact that Teddy had left a single small sheet of paper laid on the entry table reading: ‘dinner in the fridge, enjoy!’

Teddy had expected him to come home the night before. Of course.

He had expected to be home the night before, too.

Feeling the outline of the phone in his pocket, Remus grinned. Life was strange, and sweet, and exhausting, and exhilarating. And, if he didn’t have a class to teach that morning, he might not have come home at all, and that idea scared and elated him, in equal measure.

Toeing off his loafers and shuffling into the kitchen, Remus wetted a filter, scooped some of Teddy’s specially processed coffee grounds into it, and flipped the electric kettle on. It would take longer, but it was, by far, the best way to brew a cup of highly caffeinated, brightly flavored coffee.

As he waited, he pulled up Spellbound, navigated to Sirius’s profile, and flipped through the pictures.

Jesus, he was a fool. A twitterpated fool, who felt a leap of excitement in his chest at the memory of Sirius taking Remus’s phone in hand and entering a new item into the calendar. ‘There, now I only have to wait a little over a day to see you again.’

Teddy would have a coronary when he found out. But that was a problem for after coffee.

Speaking of problems, there was still the matter of Kingsley, whom he had rather impolitely ignored, never having answered him one way or the other.

💬 Remus Lupin | 5:43 AM
I’m sorry for the delay in my response. While I had a lovely time with you last week, I’m looking for something different. I hope you can understand.

It was a strange feeling. Remus had never formally turned anyone down like that, and yet, he found himself smiling, bright with optimism and Sirius’s infectious vibrance. In that moment, Remus was certain he would turn down anyone else, just to see how far he could take things with him.

He sipped his coffee and considered what to do with Spellbound. Teddy would tell him to keep his options open. Dora would scoff at him for turning down Kingsley and not playing the field. But, for his part, it was time to pick up where they left off.

Thumb hovering over the icon, he wondered if he should just delete it. Would things work out with Sirius, or would he be back on the app in two weeks time? Would he scare Sirius away, if Sirius knew he had deleted it so quickly? Or would he be fulfilling every one of the man’s recent hopes and dreams?

In the end, he finished making his coffee and sipped at it, staring at his phone and imagining Sirius’s fingertips gliding over the screen. Two days seemed like a very, very long time away.

Remus Lupin wasn’t a desperate man. He was, however, a recklessly optimistic man.