Remus carried a photo booth strip in his wallet. Folded in three, the images half-faded, and stained with a red lipstick kiss on the back.
It was from an outing they’d all had in muggle London, summer of ‘78. Or was it ‘79?
They’d squashed together in the booth, Remus’s long, arthritic legs sticking out the sides, and inserted what few muggle coins they’d had into the slot.
The first photo pictured Sirius licking a strip up Remus’s face. Disgusting albeit typical of the prat. That one always made Remus laugh, reminded him of the innocent boy Sirius once was. Nothing but a pile of pranks and laughter twisted up into one body.
The second photo had James’s head peaking in through the curtains. Hair awry and a mischievous expression plastered across his face. Sirius’s mouth is caught up in yell while Remus is shoved up against the corner on the other side of the booth, looking bored. Remus remembered clearly what had been said in that very moment.
“You two aren’t being indecent are you?” James had joked.
“GET OUT!” Sirius had nearly punctured Remus’s left eardrum with that one. Then he’d promptly shoved James out of the booth.
The third photo displayed Sirius, staring right at Remus, with a look on his face that could only be described as obscene.
The picture is in black and white but Remus knew he’d been blushing. They’d been together for a while at that point, but Remus never got used to the other boy’s piercing gaze. It always made his heart flutter unnaturally against his ribs.
After that Sirius had said “they already think we’re doing something naughty in here Moony,” then he’d raised an eyebrow and smirked. “May as well give them something real to chat about.”
Then, Sirius had launched himself at Remus, just in time for the camera to capture a final photo. One that pictured Sirius’s hands twisted in Remus’s hair, holding on for dear life. Their lips pressed against one another.
Now, 15 or so years later, Remus sat, looking at the faded pictures in his palm. Those moments, frozen in time.
He turned the strip over and on the back, beside the plump red lips it read “Moony and Me“ in Sirius’s best, cursive scrawl.
He stood up and pocketed the photo strip. Took one final swig from the tumbler on the table and felt the burn of the alcohol down his chest.
Remus left the Leaky Cauldron in stride. After all, he had a train to catch.
haven’t written one of these in a looooooong while, hope you all enjoy xo
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