#hp m

@ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @wolfstarmicrofic

Remus stirred beneath the heavy blankets, eyes fluttering open as a shiver ran through him, its cold fingers reaching all the way to his bones. The winter morning light seeped through the slatted blinds of their flat, illuminating the faint dust that danced in the air. It was beautiful, the soft flakes that had fallen during the night carpeting the world in a pristine layer of white. Yet, as lovely as it looked from the warmth of their home, Remus hated winter.

Each winter brought with it a sharp reminder of his condition, making him painfully aware of every ache and twinge as his joints stiffened in the cold. As he attempted to stretch the sleep from his weary limbs, he grimaced, clenching his teeth against the wave of pain and instinctively curling deeper under the covers, trying to find warmth amidst the encroaching frost.

“Not today,” Remus muttered under his breath, though the chill was relentless. He wanted to pull himself together, to shake off the winter blues, but despite how much he loved the beauty of snow, winter had a way of making him feel frail.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed, his body protesting at every turn. Just as he about got to the edge, a sharp pain shot through his lower back, and the hiss that escaped his lips felt like an unwelcome echo in the quiet room.

“Remus?” came a slurred voice from beside him, though it was laced with concern. The familiar warmth of his husband, Sirius, was still cocooned in the bed next to him, wrapped in layers of warmth that seemed far more inviting than the ice clinging to his own bones.

As Remus swung his legs over the side of the bed, a sharp jolt of discomfort made him pause. “I’m fine… just going to get some tea,” he attempted, though the statement hung in the air as fragile as it felt. “Merlin, Moons! What are you doing trying to get out of bed?” Sirius shot up, panic etched onto his features as he registered the painful contortion of Remus’s face in the dim light. “It’s freezing! You’ll only make it worse.”

“I just thought—”

“You thought nothing, you stubborn werewolf,” Sirius, now completely awake, his worry transforming into action as he hurriedly ushered Remus back down against the pillows. “Stay here! I’ll turn the heat up.” Before Remus could protest, Sirius was out of bed, his feet hitting the cool floor with a small gasp. His movements were quick and frantic as he padded toward the thermostat, casting worried glances over his shoulder.

“Damn this winter,” Sirius muttered, fumbling with the settings. “We should have cast warming charms on this place.”

Remus smiled slightly, watching Sirius flail around with the urgency of a man on a mission. “You're warm enough that you could probably just stand there,” he teased gently.

“Not the point!” Sirius shot back, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “You need heat, and I’ll get you heat.” With that, he darted into the kitchen, rummaging about before returning with a heating pack, warm and steaming from the microwave.

“Here,” Sirius said, handing over the pack with hands that still bore remnants of warmth. “Press this to your chest.”

Remus accepted it gratefully, pressing the pack against his ribs, and he could already feel some of the tension beginning to melt away. “Thank you, love,” he said softly, savoring both the heat and the affection in that moment.

“And eat this,” Sirius added, revealing a small pastry perched on a plate in his other hand. “I made it last night. Thought you might want it, you know, to keep your spirits up while you hibernate.”

As Remus took the pastry, his heart swelled. “You really didn’t have to,” he said, but the sincerity in Sirius’s eyes made it impossible to refuse.

“Of course I did,” Sirius insisted, sinking back into bed beside him. “Nothing’s worse than staring out at that frosty landscape while being cold and hungry.”

When Sirius returned, he had an armful of things—a heated pack in one hand and a small plate with what looked like a freshly baked pastry in the other. “Have this. I thought you might appreciate a little something sweet,” he said, an affectionate smile breaking through his worry.

They nestled together under the warm quilt, and Remus took a cautious bite of the pastry. It was sweet and flaky, bursting with warmth that spread through him like a cozy blanket. “This is fantastic,” Remus mumbled, savoring another bite, his heart warmed by both the treat and the caring gestures of his husband.

“Good! Now, stay there,” Sirius said, shuffling closer and wrapping his arms around Remus, snuggling in as tightly as he could. “For warmth,” he quipped, as if the words were an irrefutable defense against any teasing.

“Always for warmth, huh?” Remus chuckled, leaning into Sirius’s embrace. It felt good to be held so closely, feeling the reassuring strength of his husband push back against the winter chill creeping into their space.

“Of course. And maybe because I like being close to you,” Sirius murmured, his voice lower, softened by the intimacy of their surroundings.

Remus’s heart fluttered, warmth blossoming further within him. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Only because you deserve it,” Sirius replied, nuzzling into Remus’s hair. They lay there for a moment, the world outside completely forgotten as they melted into each other.

With Sirius so near, Remus certainly felt the bite of winter retreat. He reclined against his husband, feeling the comforting heat radiate off him as he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of Sirius—a combination of warmth and the faintest hint of something citrusy from his soap.

@ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @wolfstarmicrofic

The Gryffindor common room glowed with a magical warmth, festooned with wreaths of evergreen and twinkling fairy lights that reflected the spirit of the season. Laughter rang through the room, spilling out into the corridors as the Marauders kicked off their holiday party with gusto. Butterbeer flowed freely, and a table laden with treats catered to the eclectic tastes of their fellow students. The air was thick with merriment, the kind that could banish any winter chill.

“Alright, everyone!” James’s voice soared above the chatter, a grin plastered across his face. “Who’s ready for some good old-fashioned drinking games?” He clapped his hands together, causing a ripple of enthusiasm to course through the group.

Sirius’s dark eyes sparkled with mischief as he sidled up to James, leaning in conspiratorially. “What’s the first game, then? I hope it’s something scandalous!”

“We’re about to play a game that’ll really get us into the holiday spirit," James shouted, his joy infectious. He flashed a mischievous grin, causing the room to hush in anticipation. "Never Have I Ever!”

A chorus of cheers erupted, and Remus watched as Sirius bounced on his heels, his trademark grin dazzling everyone around him. As the game started, they took turns revealing secrets, each statement eliciting self-deprecating laughter or exaggerated gasps. Spirits heightened as the drinks flowed, secrets spilling as freely as the butterbeer.

Despite the hilarity of the evening, Remus found himself stealing glances at Sirius, the warmth of camaraderie washing over him like a gentle tide. The way Sirius thrived in the limelight, the way his laughter erupted like a symphony, sent flutters racing through Remus’s chest—feelings he had kept tightly packed away for far too long.

As rounds passed, the atmosphere shifted from gleeful teasing to rowdy chaos. Remus chuckled, caught up in drunken antics. He marveled at the sight of his friends until, as if lost in the sea of swirling bodies, Sirius disappeared. An unexpected wave of concern crept in, nudging Remus to search the corners of the common room.

Concern slipped in as Remus scanned the room, finding it hard to enjoy the merriment without Sirius by his side. After a few more minutes of searching, he finally spotted him, a familiar figure slumped in a corner, cradling another drink as he gazed into it with pensive eyes.

He finally found Sirius slouched against the wall in a dimly lit nook, nursing a glass with a faraway look in his eyes. Remus approached cautiously, drawn to the uncharacteristic stillness of his usually spirited friend. “Hey, Pads,” he said softly, sliding onto the floor beside him. “What’s wrong?”

Sirius didn’t even glance up. “What isn’t wrong, Prongs?” he replied, his head dropping against the wall, eyes clouded.

Remus blinked, momentarily stunned by the answer. “I’m not—” He paused mid-correction, catching himself as Sirius’s eyes flickered shut. “What do you mean?”

“I wish he liked me, mate,” Sirius mumbled, his voice a blend of wistfulness and despair.

Remus’s heart raced, shifting gears as the statement hung palpably in the air. That caught him off guard. Rather than expressing the shock gripping his throat, he opted to probe further, muscling through his own confusion. “You wish who liked you?”

Sirius groaned deeply, the frustration evident in his tone. “Don’t do this to me, man. You know who. Remus. Who the bloody hell else would it be?”

Remus froze, a fresh wave of anxiety crashing down. The admission felt like a thunderclap, reverberating through him. For years, he’d wrestled with feelings for Sirius, emotions he’d suppressed with clenched fists, convinced they were futile. “Prongs?” Sirius prompted, nudging Remus out of his stunned silence.

“Right, sorry, mate,” he finally managed to reply, his voice wavering slightly. “What makes you think he doesn’t like you, Pads?”

It felt surreal, the way Sirius poured his heart out as if it were meant for someone else entirely. But even in this intoxicated haze, every word felt like an arrow straight to Remus's heart.

Sirius sighed again, his facade cracking in vulnerability. “Because Remus is so good. He’s steady and smart—like a bloody Ravenclaw, for Merlin’s sake—and I’m... well, I’m me. All over the place. I’m impulsive, my family is a mess full of Death Eaters, and he deserves someone who can give him more. Someone more like him.”

The scoff slipped out before Remus could contain it. “You’re joking, right? You think he wants someone boring?”

Sirius didn't answer, merely frowning into his cup. “You don’t get it, Prongs. He deserves stability. Someone who can deal with all the... baggage. I mean, look at me.”

Remus felt a swirl of frustration and tenderness as he faced his best friend, pretending to be James. “Sirius, do you honestly think Remus would ever put those things above how he feels? He likes you, and you’re brilliant! So unpredictable and full of life—”

“Then why doesn’t he show it?” Sirius interjected, voice thick with emotion. He was too far gone in his own self-doubt, and it pained Remus.

“Because he’s... complicated!” Remus said, pressing his lips together, trying to keep the conversation light. “It’s hard, Pads. He might like you, but it doesn’t mean he knows how to say it. You’ve got to give him a chance.”

“Maybe,” Sirius murmured, his voice growing softer, the fight in him fading. Remus noticed the way Sirius’s eyes looked hazy and far away, his thoughts spinning rapidly despite the way he leaned against the wall for support.

As the silence stretched between them, Sirius's eyelids fluttered, and Remus could see that the night was finally catching up to him. “You alright there, mate?” Remus asked, half-smiling despite the uncertainty he felt.

“I’m great,” Sirius said, his voice slurring just a bit. “Just... tired. So, so tired…” Remus chuckled softly, placing a hand on Sirius's shoulder.

“Might want to close your eyes for a bit then, Pads. Just rest, yeah?”

With a final sigh, Sirius tilted his head back against the wall and succumbed to the fatigue, eyes slipping shut as he drifted into a light sleep. Remus couldn’t help but smile, wishing he could gather the courage to reveal his own feelings. Instead, he eased off the couch and grabbed a blanket from nearby, draping it carefully over them both.

@ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic

Regulus brushed a hand through his tousled hair as he stepped out of James’s room, the faded morning light spilling in through the curtains of the cramped yet cozy apartment. He was shirtless, his skin still warm from the night spent nestled against James. As he made his way through the living room, his gaze fell upon Sirius, who was sprawled out on the couch, a half-empty coffee mug precariously loitering on the coffee table beside him. Regulus's eyes narrowed at the sight of it.

“Honestly, Pads,” he muttered to himself, “how hard is it to use a coaster?”

Sirius always found a way to defy the simplest household rules, and that meant Regulus had to endure the aftermath—usually involving removing coffee stains from books, many of which belonged to him. His mind flickered back to the time when James had yanked him off Sirius, sputtering apologies with a laugh, after spilling a drop of coffee on a First Edition he had been cherishing. Regulus had nearly throttled him, but of course, that was before their lips touched, and everything that was once frustrating turned tender.

Entering the kitchen, he rummaged through the fridge, only to be met with the familiar, disheartening sight of empty shelves. “Brilliant,” he grumbled, pouring himself a cup of coffee—the only thing they hadn't managed to run out of yet. With a huff, he re-entered the living room, mug in hand, and watched as Sirius seemed completely absorbed in whatever was happening on his phone.

Regulus sighed contentedly; he was about to slip back into the warmth of the bedroom when James emerged from the room behind him. His dark hair was tousled, and he adjusted the glasses that sat crookedly on the bridge of his nose. He yawned, stretching his bare torso and unwittingly drawing Regulus’s gaze. “Morning, gorgeous,” he said, flashing a sleep-drunk smile that sent a thrill through Regulus.

“Morning, love,” Regulus replied, his heart fluttering. James intercepted him with a kiss, arms wrapping tightly around his waist, pulling him close.

“How’d you sleep, baby?” James murmured, still a bit gravelly from sleep.

“Pretty good. How about you?” Regulus leaned into the embrace, relishing the closeness.

“I slept great! No thanks to you,” James chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. Regulus rolled his eyes at the playful insinuation; it was part of what made their mornings wonderful.

“About time you woke up!” Sirius interjected, finally peeling his eyes away from his phone. He leaned up on the couch, aware that he was missing the morning drama. “There’s nothing to eat. Can you run to the st—”

“What the fuck is that?” Sirius interrupted himself, eyes darting toward Regulus, who instinctively touched the bruises lining his neck—remnants of misplaced passion—had not faded.

“What the fuck is what, Pads?” he asked, feigning ignorance

A bolt of realization shot through James, and he too followed Sirius’s gaze, his eyes widening. “That!” Sirius hissed, jabbing a finger dramatically at Regulus’s neck. It was a sight that would tell a story—one of playful bites and whispered secrets, remnants of the night before.

“Oh, f—It’s nothing, Pads. Don’t worry about it,” James intervened, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as if that would somehow defuse the situation.

“‘Don’t worry about it’?! You mauled my baby brother!” Sirius cried in protest, feigning horror.

“Relax, Sirius. They’re just hickeys,” Regulus chimed in, feeling the need to diffuse the situation.

“‘Just hickeys’?! Next thing I know, you’re going to be pregnant!” Sirius exclaimed, throwing his head back in mock despair.

Regulus let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. “Sirius, I can’t get pregnant. Remember?”

James snorted, barely containing his laughter. “That’s right, Pads. But you know we might just have to cast a permenant silencio on our bedroom.”

Regulus leaned against the wall, his mug held securely, catching his breath as he tuned back into the conversation. “What did you want from the store?” he asked, looking expectantly at Sirius.

Sirius grumbled, “Toaster Strudels. The good ones.”

Regulus nodded, feigning seriousness. “Flavor?”

“Raspberry. Obviously,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes as if he were addressing a child.

“Alright, James, be a dear and fetch my shirt for me?” Regulus asked with a teasing smile.

“On it!” James called, blushing slightly as he darted back to the bedroom.

Sirius let out a gasp suddenly, and both Regulus and James turned to look at him. “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!” he screamed as his eyes landed on the scratches marking James’s back—battle scars from an utterly pleasurable night that were more visible than he'd realized.

“James! Make it quick, please!” Regulus said as he began hastily slipping on his shoes. The chaos was dominating the morning.

Regulus caught the shirt, pulling it over his head quickly while James was still wrestling with shoes and a jacket, hair fluffing out behind him. He donned a turtleneck to hide any further evidence of the previous night’s escapades, all the while glancing at the clock in mild panic.

“Wow, classy, is it?” Sirius teased, smirking knowingly as he eyed Regulus’s choice.

“Better than explaining this,” Regulus shot back, finishing with his coat and feeling content with the layers.

Once they were both ready, James crossed the room with long strides, and wearing a larger grin now, called out, “Bye, Pads! Love you!” Before slamming the door behind him.

@ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic

In their cozy little flat nestled in the heart of London, Regulus Black prepared for the approaching festive season with a sparkle in his eye and dough on his hands. The kitchen was filled with the warm aroma of flour, yeast, and a hint of cinnamon, mixing harmoniously with the gentle sounds of holiday music playing softly in the background. 

James stood at the kitchen island, flipping through a cookbook filled with vibrant photographs of different breads. His dark hair fell casually into his eyes, a playful grin on his face. “Are you sure you can make all these different kinds of bread in time?” he teased, glancing up at Regulus with mischief dancing in his gaze.

Regulus smirked, kneading a ball of dough with precision. “I can manage,” he replied in his smooth French accent, the words rolling off his tongue like a melody. “Besides, I want our friends to have something special this holiday. Nothing beats homemade bread!” 

James leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest, admiring Regulus as he worked. “You’ve got that right. And you do make the best bread. But maybe we should make sure we don’t run out of flour first. I think we went a little overboard at the market last week.”

Regulus lifted his gaze, a teasing glimmer reflecting in his eyes. “Perhaps it’s your fault for being so charming at the store. I couldn’t resist piling everything into our cart.” 

“Bah, I can’t resist your charm either,” James shot back, leaning forward to place a quick kiss on Regulus’s cheek. The simple gesture sent warmth flooding through Regulus’s chest. 

Their laughter mingled in the air, a sound that felt like home. With the holidays fast approaching, Regulus was determined to create a selection of artisanal breads—brioche that would melt in your mouth, crusty sourdough loaves, and fragrant cinnamon rolls, each wrapped with care and love to gift to their friends. Barty and Evan would get an array of savory breads with herbs, while Sirius and Remus would enjoy sweet ones filled with dark chocolate and orange zest.

As he shaped the dough into neat rounds and twisted them into intricate shapes, Regulus felt a sense of peace envelop him. James watched him with affection, leaning against the countertop, occasionally stepping in to help when dough stuck to his hands or when he set off the fire alarm trying to roast pecans for the bread topping.

“You know, this will make a fantastic gift,” James said while rolling out a batch of dough with an eager smile. “Maybe we should write little cards to go with them? Or would that be too cheesy?”

“Cheesy bread is perfect for the occasion,” Regulus replied, letting out a light laugh. “But I do think a note would add a nice touch. After all, it’s the thought that counts.” He wiped his hands on a flour-dusted apron, walking over to where James was still working on his dough, a hidden sweetness warming the corners of his heart.

In the next few hours, laughter filled the kitchen as they worked together—Regulus guiding James through the steps and James attempting to keep up with his husband’s finesse. They shared stories and warm sips of spiced apple cider, each moment binding them closer.

As evening approached and the first round of breads baked in the oven, the aroma filled their flat, inviting warmth reminiscent of family gatherings. Regulus, sweat glistening on his forehead, glanced over at James, who was wiping some flour off his cheek with a sheepish grin. 

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” James said, eyes sparkling. “We should make this a tradition every year.”

Regulus nodded, feeling his heart swell with affection. “I would love that. Our own little holiday tradition.” 

Once the breads cooled, Regulus and James packed them up in carefully tied boxes, each tagged with personalized messages. As they placed them on the counter, a sense of accomplishment swelled between them.

“Your friends are going to love this,” James said, glancing around at their handiwork. “You’ve outdone yourself, Reg.”

Regulus smiled, feeling contentment radiate through him. “It’s not just the bread; it’s the memories, the joy of sharing something we love with the people we care about.”

As night fell and their flat twinkled with festive lights, Regulus stepped closer to James, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Thank you for doing this with me, James. It means everything to share these small moments with you.”

James beamed, pulling Regulus closer. “It’s always better when we’re together. Now, let’s make sure we save some for ourselves.”

@ravenoclock (since you said you'd want to read it) @ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic

Word count: 1861

The warm smell of freshly ground coffee filled the air of The Daily Grind, a cozy little coffee shop nestled between a bookstore and a vintage thrift store. It was the perfect hiding place for students trying to escape the rigors of university life. James Potter, a barista with an ever-present grin, stood behind the counter, working his magic with the espresso machine and giving the occasional playful banter to the familiar faces that frequented the café.

It was a typical Wednesday afternoon when everything changed. As the bell above the door chimed, announcing a new arrival, James briefly looked up from making a caramel macchiato. His eyes met the gentleman stepping inside, and for a moment, time stopped.

Regulus Black stepped through the doorway, a vision in a navy sweater that hugged his form in all the right places. His dark hair fell effortlessly across his forehead, and his piercing green eyes scanned the café with an air of calm confidence. He looked like he belonged between the pages of a novel, enchanting in a way that made James's heart race.

“Hey there! What can I get started for you today?” James asked, trying his hardest not to sound overly eager. Regulus approached the counter, the soft rustle of his clothing barely audible above the ambient café noise.

“I’ll have a black coffee with sugar and cream, please,” Regulus replied, his voice soft and smooth, evoking a flicker of warmth in James’s chest. 

James nodded, diving into the rhythmic motions of preparing the order, trying to mask the flutter of anticipation in his stomach. He pulled a fresh shot of espresso and expertly layered it with just the right amount of sugar and cream, making sure it was just perfect. As he turned around, he couldn’t help but notice how Regulus moved, elegantly and purposefully, as he found a spot at the corner table.

Once he had served up the coffee, James took a moment to steal glances at Regulus, who was already absorbed in a book—some classic novel, likely. James could see the way his lips slightly moved as he quietly read, and every now and then, he'd adjust his glasses with a distraction that caused a small smile to escape the corners of James's lips. Everything about him was captivating—the delicate focus in his features, the way he tuck a little hair behind his ear with such practiced ease.

“Potter! Stop staring!” came a teasing voice from behind him. Marlene, one of his co-workers, was leaning against the counter with a grin that said she had taken notice of his affection. “You’re going to scare him off!”

“I’m not staring,” James protested, yet he couldn’t help but glance back towards Regulus, who, at the moment, seemed utterly unreadable over the pages of his book.

“I’ve never seen you act like this over a customer,” Marlene continued, her smile playful and knowing. “Does he have a name?”

“Not yet,” James replied, sounding thoughtful, though inside he was practically buzzing. “He might just be a regular… if I’m lucky.”

“Put yourself out there! Just say hi!” she urged, nudging him with her elbow.

After that first encounter, Regulus became a ritual in James’s day. Each afternoon, he would enter just after three, ordering the same black coffee with sugar and cream, retreating to his corner table, his book ever-present. It quickly became a well-worn routine; James would look forward to seeing Regulus, his heart soaring each time he caught his shy, slightly bashful gaze.

Marlene and their other co-workers, including Sirius, Evan, and Lily, seized every opportunity to tease James about his infatuation. “You have a coffee crush,” Sirius quipped, poking fun in his usual inimitable style.

“It’s more than a crush,” James insisted, trying to defend his burgeoning feelings. “There’s something about him… He’s interesting! He reads all the time! How can that not be attractive?”

“Okay, so you’re in love,” Marlene declared with dramatic flair, earning a groan from James. “Just talk to him! Ask him about his books! You work in a coffee shop; he’s practically your captive audience!”

Each day floated by in a haze as James stole nervous glances and pretended to focus on frothing milk or cleaning the espresso machine while Regulus effortlessly lost himself in the fictional worlds laid out before him. He wished he had the nerve to speak to him, to share his passion for literature and coffee with someone who could appreciate both. Yet, whenever he considered approaching Regulus, his stomach would tie itself into knots. 

One particularly busy Thursday afternoon, James glanced up to find Regulus entering just like clockwork, his familiar relaxed demeanor in stark contrast to James’s rising anxiety. Not wanting to lose the opportunity this time, he took a deep breath and approached the counter. “Hey, Regulus! Back again?” he greeted, trying to sound casual but feeling anything but.

Regulus looked up from his book, a surprised but delighted smile gracing his lips. “Always. Your coffee is the highlight of my day.”

James felt warmth spread through him at the compliment. “I’m glad to hear that. What are you reading today?” he asked, the question slipping out before he had time to think about it.

“Just a collection of poems by Keats,” Regulus replied, his eyes glinting with passion. “There’s something magical about the way he captures feeling. I get lost in his words.”

“Yes! I love the way he writes about nature and love,” James replied, surprised at how easily the conversation flowed. “You know, I’ve always found poetry to be incredibly powerful, even if I’m more of a prose person.”

Regulus’s eyes lit up at their exchange. “Do you write? Anything, you know, original?” he asked, leaning closer, clearly intrigued.

James could feel the heat creeping up his neck. “Not really. I mostly dabble here and there. I’d love to write more one day, though.”

“That’s how it works, you know. You just have to keep trying,” Regulus encouraged, and in that moment, everything felt perfect. James couldn't help but notice how easy it was to talk to him, how much he wanted to continue sharing bits of himself. But just like that, the moment slipped away as a customer approached, interrupting their connection.

“Can I get that coffee to go?” the customer interjected, glancing between James and Regulus. 

James quickly collected himself, returning to his barista duties, but a small part of him remained excited, lifted by their small conversation. It felt like a step toward something more, a crack in the wall of uncertainty holding him back.

Over the next few weeks, Regulus maintained his routine, and the two of them exchanged casual conversations every time. James learned Regulus was an English major with a particular fondness for romantic poetry and classic novels. They flipped through discussions about favorite authors, and Regulus would recommend books he loved while James would assure him that he would read them, though he made mental notes to start a whole list. 

One day, James was preparing Regulus's usual order when Marlene leaned against the counter, scrutinizing James’s movements. “Here’s your chance! Just ask him for once, please.”

James sighed, knowing she had a point but feeling completely unprepared. Just then, he caught the glimmer of Regulus moving towards the counter, his book tucked under one arm.

“Hey, James,” Regulus greeted with that familiar, warm smile. “I’ve been thinking…”

James felt his heart skip a beat. “About…?”

“Surprise me.” Regulus’s calm, sudden request left James momentarily speechless.

“What?” he replied, not sure if he had heard correctly.

“Let me try something new today. Go on, surprise me with a drink instead of my usual,” Regulus said, his tone encouraging and light.

James stared at him, completely taken aback. Regulus had always ordered the same black coffee with sugar and cream. “Are you sure?” James asked hesitantly, his mind racing. He didn’t want to mess this up or suggest something he wouldn’t enjoy.

“Absolutely. I trust you,” Regulus replied, the sincerity in his gaze igniting something hopeful within James. The weight of the moment pressed on him as he accepted the challenge.

With newfound determination, James took a deep breath and prepared a delightful vanilla latte with caramel drizzle and a sprinkle of cinnamon. It was a move away from Regulus's routine, but perhaps it would become a new favorite. 

He handed Regulus the cup, watching closely as he took his first sip. The anticipation coiled in his stomach was nearly unbearable. Regulus paused for a moment, thoughtful, then his face broke into a soft, genuine smile.

“This is really good!” Regulus exclaimed, and in that instant, time seemed to stop again. “You know, I think I might want to change my order permanently.”

James couldn’t help but laugh in relief. “Well, I’m glad I got it right! I wasn’t sure if you’d be willing to let go of your usual.”

Regulus tilted his head slightly, his expression thoughtful as he sipped again. “You’re kind of a master at this, aren’t you?”

James felt a warmth spread through him at the compliment. “I try; coffee is sort of my thing.”

They spent the next few minutes discussing Regulus’s thoughts about the drink and how James loved experimenting with flavors. The conversation felt effortless, and James was acutely aware of the subtle shift between them, the tension electrifying the air around them.

Eventually, as the café quieted down, James took a breath, feeling the rush of inspiration surge through him, the casual conversation warming his heart. “Listen, would you want to grab a bite to eat sometime?” he asked, voice steady but laced with hope.

Regulus paused, his wide eyes shimmering with surprise before softening into a delighted smile. “Yes, I’d love to! How about this weekend?”

James nodded, excitement bubbling forth. “Perfect! Just let me know what time works for you.”

Regulus lingered for a moment, his gaze unwavering and hopeful. Quickly, he grabbed a nearby napkin and pulled out a pen from his pocket as he wrote something down before handing it to James. “My number. I’ll text you,” he said softly, his voice almost shy as he turned to leave. 

Just like that, he disappeared out the door, leaving James with a heart full of exhilaration. The café suddenly felt different—radiant and alive with possibilities he had once only dreamed of.

As James cleaned up at the end of the day, his co-workers teased him relentlessly, each offering silly congratulations and playful jabs over the developing relationship.

“So, are you two officially dating now, or is this still just a coffee fling?” Marlene laughed, slapping James on the back as he tried to stifle a grin.

“I don’t know yet, but I’m hopeful,” he replied, still flushed from the encounter. 

Or a Philosophy major!Remus and Barista!Sirius where Remus comes into Brewed Awakenings (the coffee shop) for the first time and instead of ordering coffee, he orders tea and Sirius later asks his coworkers (Marlene, James, Evan, Lily), "Who comes to a coffee shop and orders tea?! Who does that?!"

I was thinking about it during school, look out y'all, here I come.

Okay, but what if I wrote a Marauder's Band AU partly based on the song 'Typical Story ' by Hobo Johnson? Just think,

Its a, its a, its a, its a,

Typical story where the Bassist (Peter) kills the Singer (James)

The Guitarist (Sirius) and the Drummer (Remus) find they're in love with each other.

Its the story of the Kid (Regulus), who clearly won't know what to say, when the Love of His Life starts to calmly walk away (Sirius running away to The Potters)