James swings open the door to the pub, and a rush of loud chatter and a fusty scent of alcohol hits Remus head on. Peter trails in last, tucked safely behind both taller men. They find an open table and slide into the booth. James shrugs off his jacket and grabs a handful of peanuts. 

"You ever been here before?" James asks. 

"Only a few times," Peter answers first. 

Remus just shakes his head. He gives the place a quick sweep with his eyes. It's fairly big, and the dim lighting makes it hard to see much at all. A pool table is on the far side and an oval shaped bar sits in the middle; glasses clink and corks pop as the two bartenders maneuver their way to serve customers. Tables are scattered around the floor, but there's plenty of space to mingle. 

"I'm going to get a drink," Remus says. "Want anything?"

"Get a pitcher for the table," James answers. "On me."

Remus nods, sliding out of the booth. He walks over to the bar, leaning against the counter patiently. A few bums sit on the stools with glazed eyes, falling asleep with their drinks in hand. One of the bartenders smiles at Remus. "What can I get you?" he asks as he pours somebody else's drink. 

"A pitcher and a whiskey," Remus answers. He rubs his temples slowly to drown out the noise when he sees the bartender's name tag: Smitty Jones. Remus picks his head up immediately. "Don't you own this place?" 

"That I do," Smitty says, handing Remus his drinks. 

"Thanks mate..." Remus grabs the drinks and makes his way back to the table where James and Peter sit. "Hey, James, do you know what happened here a few months ago with Sirius?"

James raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Didn't peg you as a tabloid reader, Rem," he says while pouring himself a glass. 

"I'm not. I just heard it through the...office gossip." Remus swallows his whiskey with a slight grimace. He's not usually one for hard liquor, but after this week, he needs a drink. 

"You know, I have never met Sirius, but he already scares me," Peter jokes. 

James chuckles. "Sirius isn't scary unless he has to be. He's a good man." James's eyes meet Remus's before he brings his glass to his lips. "So Peter, you're the bloke who's been making Remus's lunches."

"I dabble..."

Remus scoffs. "Don't be so modest." He leans forward and jabs a thumb at Peter's shoulder. "He's a bloody brilliant chef! Even Sirius ate your muffin."

"You should open your own restaurant," James suggests.

Peter waves off the idea. "That's the dream."

"Have you ever considered catering?"

"Like anybody would want food catered from my flat."

James rubs his chin in thought. "Not if you say it like that!" James downs his second glass, not feeling the effects, but raises his voice significantly louder. "You're Peter Pettigrew, the up and coming chef with an all exclusive artisan kitchen, serving only select members of London." Peter's mouth is nearly frothing at the sound. "See, mate. It's all about marketing." 

As the night goes on, more pitchers are brought to fill the empty glasses piling on the table. Peter rests his head against the wall; his face is flushed and head spinning with images of meringues and eclairs. James is tossing peanuts into the empty pitcher, though his aim is incredibly off. He ends up tossing them into Peter's hair most of the time. 

Remus gazes around the bar seeing double. Sirius is standing at the bar. His business casual attire looks exceptionally fitting tonight; nearly all the buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing his tattooed chest and defined abs. His trousers hug his bum perfectly and in the front -

Remus rubs his eyes wearily and the image of Sirius disappears. He shakes his head to focus when he sees Sirius sitting directly across from him. His silky hair curtains around his face angelically. A shot glass rests in his hand looking extraordinarily dainty under the hold of his large hands. Gold rings shimmer before his eyes.

"Remus are you okay?" he asks. 

"I thought you were working tonight," Remus replies. 

James waves his hand in front of Remus' face again. "I think its time I take you back to your flat."

"Why are you shouting?" Remus shouts back. 

James hauls Remus to his feet, slinging the latter's arm over his shoulders for support. Remus stumbles after a few steps and breaks free from James's hold. Peter grabs the back of his shirt before he can get far, and the two carry him to the car awaiting them. 

"I have to go to work before Sirius fires me," Remus groans. "I have to finish the story."

"I told Lily we should've gotten that leash for you," James grunts as he helps Remus into the car.

Peter buckles his own seatbelt after two missed attempts. He presses his face against the cool window, calming his flushed face. "Who's Lily?" he asks with a dreamy sigh. 

James closes the door of the car and awkwardly pats Remus' head when he falls onto his lap. "My future wife," he answers. 

"Can I make your wedding cake?"

"For free, sure."

Peter shrugs, as if the opportunity is good enough. "Brilliant."

*

*

*

Sunlight sears into Remus's eyes when he awakes the next morning. A line of drool drags from his mouth when he lifts his head, and he wipes it with the back of his hand. He runs a cool hand down the length of his exposed torso. Yesterday's trousers are still on and a singular shoe. The sound of running water is heard from the bathroom, but across the room, Peter is sound asleep in his bed. 

Remus rolls off the bed, landing on the ground with a heavy thump. "Ow..." he groans. He pulls himself up and shakily reaches for the closest weapon. Slowly, he inches toward the bathroom door prepared to swing. The water stops with a screech. When the doorhandles jiggles, Remus tightens his grip. 

James walks out of the bathroom wearing a pair of boxers with a towel wrapped around his neck and screams when he sees Remus ready to attack. 

"For fuck's sake!" Remus gasps. "James?"

James clutches his heart. "No, Peter," he replies. "Were you about to attack me with a ladle?"

Remus sighs, dropping the ladle onto the table. He shuffles over to the kitchen table and flops into the chair. "What're you doing here?" 

"Well I didn't feel like going back to my place after last night so I just crashed here." He grabs the pile of clothes left on the coffee table. "Also, Sirius called you about four times." Remus leaps to his feet immediately. "But don't worry I answered."

All the color drains from Remus's face. "You did? What did you say?"

"I think I said, 'Remus Lupin is currently blacked out eating a pad of butter on the kitchen floor right now. Can I take a message?' But I can't be too sure on the exact phrasing." Remus grabs his phone laying on the ground beside Peter's bed. He attempts to turn it on when James speaks again, "Oh and it was at like one percent I'm pretty sure."

"I'm a dead man," Remus mutters, scurrying to the charger. He plugs in the phone and sits idly. "Sirius is going to fire me. Why would he want an assistant who eats raw butter?" He looks up at James with crazed eyes. "I'm lactose intolerant!" 

James lets out a deep guttural laugh. "Sirius is not going to fire you, mate. You're like his new puppy, and he loves dogs. The worst you'll get is a time out."

The phone lights up after a minute and messages flood in all at once. A few reminders, some emails, and three missed calls from Mr. Bossy. Remus pinches the bridge of his nose as he listens to the phone ring. Nerves crawl up his throat and drag all the way down to his stomach when the call picks up. Silence is received from the other end. 

"H-Hello?" Remus says. 

"Remus," Sirius's voice replies. 

"I'm so sorry I missed your calls last night please don't fire me I love working at Black Inc.!" The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop himself. James looks amused across the room with half a bagel in his mouth. 

"I didn't call you last night."

Remus pulls the phone away to confirm the three missed calls from Sirius. "Erm...are you sure?"

"I was calling you back. After you called my phone. Numerous times."

"Bloody fucking hell." Remus straightens up promptly, remembering who is on the other line. "Shit - No! I mean -"

"When you figure out how to speak, I need you to pick up the proofs from the photoshoot and bring them over." 

"Sure. Do you need anything else? Coffee? Or a muffin?"

"Remus."

"Yes?"

"I'm going to hang up now."

The call ends abruptly. Remus sinks into his seat, tossing the phone aside. He screws his eyes shut to pretend that nothing is real if only for a moment. 

"So did he fire you?" James asks. 

Remus shakes his head slowly. "No. But it would probably be much better if he had." At least Sirius had the decency to announce he was going to hang up first.