Chapter Text
"Merlin, why do Muggle contraptions always have so many bloody buttons—"
"Did you finish putting her number in? It's 34—"
"Hello?" Winnie asks uncertainly into the receiver.
A pause. And then an overly bright voice, shouting into the phone. "WINNIE! SWEETHEART, JUST THE PERSON I WAS LOOKING FOR!"
"Sirius, you don't have to shout, I can hear you perfectly fine," Winnie sighs, wincing away from the receiver.
"Oh, really?" Sirius sounds genuinely bemused.
Winnie hums. "Where are you calling me from? I don't recognize the number."
"One of those phone-telly boxes," Sirius says. Winnie has to bite her tongue to prevent herself from correcting him. "Anyways, we were— oof." His voice cuts off mid-sentence with a grunt. "I mean, I was wondering if you were home and free right now?"
Winnie hesitates warily. "I am both home and free."
"Brilliant," Sirius sighs. "Do you think you could come and pick up Remus? He's had one too many Firewhiskey's and he's always been such a lightweight—" His voice cuts out for a moment amidst a lot of shuffling. "—and I think he's one wrong look away from biting mine and James's head off— oof."
"Is he with you now? Can I talk to him?"
The shuffling stops abruptly. A pause, before Sirius speaks up again, his voice a little wheezy. "No, he's not out here. Or with me right now."
Winnie's brows shoot up. She bites back a small smile, now able to imagine the two of them squished in a little phone booth. "You guys are at the pub downtown, right?"
"That's the one."
"I'll be there in fifteen," Winnie says, already looking around for her keys.
"Brilliant, we'll— I'll see you then!"
Winnie is about to hang up when she can hear Sirius grumbling on the end of the line. Knowing him, Winnie bets that he left the payphone hanging. "I don't see why you couldn't just send her an owl."
Another voice, heart achingly familiar. "She's afraid of the owl's claws."
Sirius huffs. "You could've just called her yourself then."
"Didn't want to bother—" The line cuts out.
Winnie puts the phone down, smiling widely as she grabs her keys.
— — — — —
When Winnie enters the crowded pub, she spots him immediately. He's slouched on a barstool around a table, head resting in his hand and his long legs kicked out under him. Contrary to Sirius's description, he doesn't look like he's about to murder anyone. He's watching James waving his hands animatedly at Sirius, the corners of his lips twitching.
Winnie steps around the room, careful to hide from his view before she moves behind him. "Come here often?" She whispers into his ear, grinning already.
Remus straightens, his head whipping over to her with such speed that she's a little worried for his neck. Up close, Winnie can see that his cheeks are flushed a rosy pink so pretty that dimly, she wishes she was an artist so that she could capture this view of him. She thinks she could write a song about his pretty flush. "Winnie," he says, mouth curving into a smile, her favorite kind — white teeth flashing, dimples showing. Her heart is squeezing so painfully in her chest, but she's sure that Remus has no idea what he's doing. Remus has never been big on PDA, so Winnie's a little surprised when his big hands start reaching for her hands.
"Hi lover boy," she says, letting him pull her towards him.
"How was your rehearsal?" He's holding both of her hands now, his thumbs rubbing circles against her skin.
"It went well," she says, smiling. "Hi guys," Winnie says to the others.
"Hi darling," Sirius drawls, lips twitching behind the rim of his glass. "You came right on time — another minute and he would have had our heads." James snorts, nodding in agreement.
Remus ignores this, his brown eyes not leaving hers as his fingers reach the sleeve of her turtleneck. "Is this new? I like it," he says, smile turning dopey. "You look lovely, cariad."
Winnie's cheeks go pink, half because of how he's looking at her, pretty eyes soft with unabashed adoration and affection, half because she can see Sirius and James's mouths go slack.
"Merlin, you're in deep, Moony," Sirius exclaims.
Next to him, James makes a gagging sound. "Please spare us and take him home," he begs, but he's grinning. His grin falters when Remus turns to shoot him a withering glare.
"Right, I heard you were in need of a ride home," Winnie says, trying to keep a straight face when Remus turns back to look at her, his expression softened from his previous vitriol.
He's gone puppy-eyed, his eyes big and brown as they stare up at her hopefully. "Let's go home?"
Saying bye to the boys is quick work. Sirius is practically shoving them out of the pub with James making gagging sounds behind him.
As they walk to the parking lot, Remus's arm winds around her waist, his hands fiddling absentmindedly at the knitted material of her turtleneck. It feels as though ever since she's come, he hasn't stopped touching her — not that she minds, of course. When his fingers brush against her skin accidentally, it sends a shiver up her spine.
"Cold?" He asks, already stopping in his tracks to shrug off his jacket. Winnie doesn't bother saying no or pointing out that it's a warm night. Remus has always been endearingly bossy when he's sober — she can only imagine him now refusing to budge until she takes his jacket. Plus, she likes the smell of his jacket. And with the way he can never quite look away from her when she's wearing it or one of his lumpy jumpers, she reckons he gives them to her for his sake too. Remus drapes his jacket over her shoulders, his fingers tugging at the collar.
"Thank you," she says, smiling up at him fondly.
"Were you busy?" He's tugging her even closer now, his arms bracketing around her as he straightens the shoulders of his jacket.
"Never too busy for you," she says meaningfully, reaching up to fluff at his hair affectionately. Remus seems to melt into the action as she threads her fingers into his sun-kissed hair, his warm cheek settling against her palm. His eyes have gone sleepy and soft on her, his lip jutting out stubbornly. God. She wants to kiss him senseless. "You can call me whenever. Owl even, if it keeps its claws off my furniture."
Remus's brows knit together for a moment before his face falls. "You heard?" He asks, lips twitching into a deep frown.
Winnie laughs, squeezing at his cheek. "Sirius is not exactly subtle or good with Muggle technology."
"I didn't want to bother you," Remus admits, letting his head drop forward against her shoulder. He's really too tall for this, but somehow he manages to slouch enough so that he can rest his forehead against her shoulder. "But I wanted to see you."
His honesty makes her stomach do loops. "Yeah?" Winnie hums softly, impossibly endeared. She runs her thumb over his splay of freckles, faint now against the warm tan of his skin. "I always want to see you too, so call me whenever, okay?"
Remus's hands find their way to her waist. "Yeah, okay," he mumbles into her shoulder. He turns his head, his face pressing against her turtleneck. She can hear him inhale deeply. "I don't like this," he grumbles, one hand reaching up to tug gently at the high neck of her shirt.
Winnie blinks. "You just said you liked my shirt," she says accusingly, a little offended now.
"I did," he agrees solemnly, pulling back away from her just enough to look at her with big, sincere eyes. Saccharinely innocent. Then his eyes dart down to shoot her shirt a baleful look, his lips jutting out in the closest thing she's ever seen him get to a sulk. "But now it's in my way."
Winnie can feel her face flush, but she tries to hide it with an arched brow. It fails, clearly, because she can see the way Remus drinks in her flustered expression, his sulk disappearing immediately, lips hitching smugly. "Yeah? Well I guess you'll just have to deal with it because I like this shirt," She grumbles mulishly, pulling away in embarrassment but Remus gently grabs her hands again and sets them firmly on his shoulders. Winnie's stomach is doing flips now.
"I think I can find a way around it," Remus murmurs distractedly, nosing against her jaw and already hooking a finger into the neck of her turtleneck and tugging it down gently to reveal the nape of her neck.
Winnie can't help the happy sigh she breathes out when his lips ghost against her skin, his hair tickling her ear. He presses a firmer, open-mouthed kiss against her collarbone, his fingers still dipping into her shirt. His other hand rises to cradle the back of her head gently, his long fingers threading through her hair as he noses along the nape of her neck, lips soft and ticklish. "My heart," he mumbles against her skin fondly. Affection blooms in her so violently, all she can do is grasp at his shoulders. When she tilts her head back a little to give him more access, she can feel his lips curve into a smarmy smirk. The bastard. ""Shall we go home?"