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Remus sat by the open window. Green leaves are turning their Autumn red beyond the glass and the werewolf is just taking it all in. There was magic in the change of seasons. There was serenity particularly attached to Autumn.
In his hands was a book he'd gotten from Harry. Possibly acquired from the Malfoy's extensive antique sellers. Remus had told the pair that a book is a book no matter how old; its price lies in the story it tells not the tag.
(At that, the blonde haired boy rolled his eyes, earning a smack to his arm from Harry. Yet he came back with more books the following week during their visit.)
Occasionally, the wind blows through. Sending Remus' hair to disarray. He stopped bothering to fix them. Afterall, the next gust of wind will restore the mess from before.
All this wind lead to two things; cold and tea. Cold means he needed to get up and grab a blanket. Tea meant his cup had lost its warmth therefore needing a refill. Remus would've fulfilled these meager tasks quickly but laziness had made him stay rooted to the book.
Time passes and the more Remus' bones ache. Sigh. He stretches his folded legs, cringing at the pins and needles.
"Stop !"
Remus looks back to his husband. "What ?"
"Stop moving." He said, fingers black stained by charcoal.
"I need to get a blanket and tea."
"I'm drawing ! You have to sit back down. You need to !"
Remus' face contorts to a playful smirk. He dares to move his leg, straightening it even further. The movement made Sirius heave an exasperated sigh.
"Remus John Lupin !"
His socked feet inched to touch the carpeted floor with his toe. Sirius groaned louder.
"Stop moving !"
Remus disobeys, setting his book down and moving all sorts of different ways. As if Sirius was taking a picture and he, messing up the shot. The more he teases Sirius, the louder his laughter got. The more the artist flushes red.
Remus finally stops, returning to his perch. Pretending to finally give in. Sirius sighs in relief. He sits back and picks his sketch book back up.
Only for Remus to move an arm.
Sirius threateningly points a pencil at him.
"Don't you dare."
Remus chuckles before protesting. "But I'm cold Black !"
"Really ?" An unconvinced eyebrow lifts.
"Yes, trully."
Sirius sighs. He puts his tools down and jogs away, gone from sight. Remus is sure what he's doing.
Sirius Lupin, ever the sweet husband, returns with the thickest blanket in their bedroom and a flask filled with tea. When had he prepared it ? Remus had no idea.
He drapes the blanket like a cape around Remus' shoulders. Then settled the flask on the window sill, ready for Remus to enjoy. The artist steps back to fix the cloth, arranging them to fall precisely where needed.
Once satisfied, he stands back up and kisses Remus' forehead.
"Alright ?"
Remus smiles. "Alright."
"Now stay." Sirius turns to head back to his chair.
Only to be stopped by a hand round his wrist.
"You know you have to pay your model right ?"
Sirius' lips tugged into a mischievous smile. "Oh ? So what do you trade in, Mr. Lupin ?"
"Books."
A groan and a roll of pretty grey eyes.
"And kisses."
Sirius beams. "Finally, a currency I deal in."
He leans down, capturing Remus' raspberry tea stained lips. For a moment they stayed that way. Relishing in the sweetness that transfered.
"You've got charcoal on my face, haven't you ?"
Sirius' smile dropped into a nervous one. "No ? I mean no ! Of course not !"
He clammers quickly, holding Remus face so he wouldn't turn away.
"Oh C'mon Moony ! I'll kiss it away !"
"You're not ingesting charcoal !" Remus fought against him.
Sirius wrestles to land a kiss on his black tinted cheek. "I've eaten worse as a dog !"
With a laugh, Remus countered, tackling him backwards. "You've eaten wose as a human !"
And that, is why Remus never sits for Sirius' art. They never get anything done. The sketches stay a sketch. Painting stuck in half stroke. It's their love that stays full.
