Muggle-AU, Remus coming to work on the Black farm. Wolfstar, Disablity!AU

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Moony carried everything he owned on his back in the shimmering sun trickling through the wispy clouds of rain soaking him through, leaving the coat a misty silver gleaming right off his hind on his way to the Black Manor.

The kissing gate was open at the ready, he rode through right up to the barn with the heavy smells of damp grass and horse thick in his nose as he guided himself inside right up to the tack room and dismounted with his usual careful ease from the saddle.

"Even their barn is opulent," Remus told his steed, giving him a grateful pat on his rump before he ruffled out his hair still plastered to his forehead. "We're in for a treat if we make the cut boy."

His horse nickered and pawed the ground impatiently as he casually tied him up one handed to an available hook and made his way into his new room.

The small cot that would be his bed rested right underneath the fresh polish now assaulting the air, some laze about had left the jar open attracting flies. Only the finest silver and gold studded brushes, lead ropes, and hoof picks glittered to his eyes as he flipped the light switch on. Bottles of shampoo and detangling were label faced out on his left and feed that cost more than he'd ever make in his life were already sorted into named buckets for the meal tonight. There was even a saddle with an actual diamond stud instead of a horn directly across from the door, the trophy to earn such a prize sitting above and still glinting from the source of the smell.

He'd been highly encouraged to keep his own gelding as up to brand as he was expected to manage the rest of the horses and so helped himself to a bucket and filled it with all the supplies Moony would need after his long journey, crooking it in the space of one arm and closing the jar of polish to pocket it with the other. He stepped back out and froze.

There were only four Black's on the estate, Orion had informed him, and as he'd only met his new boss he at first thought it was him he was warning, "careful, he bites." Then he blinked the bright daze away to see this man was too young, but had the same aristocratic features, somehow even more embellished.

The rain was coming down even harder now, having masked the jangle of his entrance in the riding boots and loose stirrups. The posh uniform clung to him, still dripping off his spurs and collar. He wore no helmet, his hair was long but well kempt in a casual bun, there was a gorgeous black mare needing her own upkeep standing beside him with no need for the rope he had thrown casually over another hook without even knotting it as his gloved hand reached for Moony's bridle.

His hand dropped away at once, thankfully, and startling blue-gray eyes met his, a lopsided smile already edging this conversation to be the most pleasant he'd had in weeks. His voice was light and teasing, but still held the thick accent of this town, "should train him not to do that then, shouldn't you?" His own damp appearance was taken in with one quick glance over and a scoff of dismissal, eyes resting where everyone's did. "That how you lost the arm?"

He took the bucket off the bend of his arm and set it down, the rest of the limb missing not given much thought so many years later. He stepped forward and offered his left hand and tried his best to even out his own poor dialect as he evasively answered, "you must be one of Mr. Black's sons. I'm Lupin, new stable hand."

"Yeah, I gathered that all on my own," he rolled his eyes and shook, his hand lingering surprisingly long as the young man kept watching him like he was waiting for the answer, or just wondering like others had already blurted out by now if those scars were everywhere.

Remus dropped his hand and went back to Moony, unbuckling his girth, feeling the eyes follow him. He could not lose this job, he must mind his manners, and what was one more lie. "No, I lost it in the war."

"You're to young," he was accused at once, causing him to stiffen in surprise and the saddle to fall to the dusty ground with a thump. Moony whinnied in concern and backed towards the mare, though Remus was quick to grab his bridle and step close to catch his eye. The horse settled and he scooped up the old, beaten, weathered bit of leather with one arm and balanced it on his hip as he casually turned back for this was old hat.

"I'm older than I look, happened my first time on the front lines," he challenged back his tale. "Stood too close to the wrong end of a cannon," he added with his own light smile now, hoping to bait the hook and let his imagination run off and leave him be. "It exploded and everything."

The sharp bark of laughter echoed up to the rafters high above and back, the strange Black flashed him a grin as he leaned over and plucked a curry comb from the bucket. "Fine, keep your secret then. I'm glad father bought that story though, we could definitely use a hand around here." Then he very pointedly looked at his missing limb and back to his eyes, just waiting to see what he'd do.

He swallowed and turned away to put his saddle up without comment to hide his laugh. Nobody had ever joked about that before. It was, strange. Everything about him was. When he stepped back he quickly remembered himself this time and held his hand out for the brush, "oh I'll do that. It is my job."

"I like doing it," he continued brushing her down without missing a beat, looking up just in time to catch the surprise in his face before he could hide it. "Yeah, that's right, I'm a firm believer in the idea why have an animal if you're not willing to manage the upkeep."

"Yes sir Mr. Black," he said quietly, holding his eyes now and watching his every move as he bent down following her natural curves.

"Please don't," he scoffed. "It's Sirius."

"If you say so sir," he deliberately misunderstood with his own teasing tone back, and was rewarded with that barking laugh again.

They worked in companionable silence until both horses were groomed, Sirius stealing looks at his marred face every now and then that did not lessen as the day bled into night, the sunset unseen as the pouring water only ran heavier above. He finally let his hair loose from its bun and guided his horse to an empty stall with one last apple, the silver calligraphy sign marking Nimbus as he closed the door with a loud click of the latch. Remus took Moony to an unlabeled one at the end. He turned to find Sirius still lingering and licked his lips nervously. Was he really going to stick around and demand the truth? Out to get him fired for being in what was clearly his domain?

Instead he got the single warning of, "think fast," and a flash of silver soaring right towards his face.

He had to take a step to the side and back to catch it, but managed the heavy flask in his palm with barely a break in eye contact. Still holding his shocked look, he unscrewed the cap with his teeth and took a long pull of the whiskey inside before tipping it back, settling it into the crook of his limb again, and screwing it back on as he inspected the engraved name. "Moody? Is this a warning of our future interactions?"

Sirius grinned again, a truly devilish look that sent a hot flash through him. He'd just passed some sort of test, he knew, though he wasn't sure if he was grateful for it yet. "Can you keep a secret Mr. Lupin?"

"I'd dare say so," he promised as he tossed it back.

Sirius caught and held it for several moments as he stepped forward and mock whispered, "I stole it from the sheriff in town."

He burst out laughing, and Sirius smiled, his features finally melded into something soft and gentle, though there was no doubt in Remus' mind he could make any expression in the world seem high-end. "Oh, you're the trouble maker then, aren't you?"

"Someone had to be," he sniffed. "My bloody brother's being trained to run the business. Mum and Dad don't give me much grief in comparison, I've been talking about going off to the war since I could speak, it appeases them."

He unscrewed the cap slowly and took a very long drink. Remus found himself licking his lips and edging closer despite how dangerous this was getting. "I met the sheriff yesterday, he's an old war vet himself."

"Nearly everyone is after all this time," Sirius agreed, running his thumb over the still open flask until he was back in arms reach, and offering it back.

He took it and drank deeply, savoring the taste and flush of warmth even more the second time as he handed it back and asked, "I'm sure you've heard a million stories then?" It could add to his own, he told himself practically.

"I could be tempted to share them I suppose," he smiled again. "Though I'm sure you must have one or two of your own?"

Remus was toiling over how to answer that when a crack of thunder drowned out the very earth for a moment, startling to the two apart, somehow back to a normal, standard speaking distance, but he was still somehow soaking wet under the roof that dared not leak.

The drink had splashed all down his front, and covered Sirius' gloves. He threw them off in surprise to the ground without a care for the little SOB in finely stitched embroidered gold at the side and crushed them under his foot as he looked up and saw his state. He cursed as he realized and darted into the tack room, coming back with several clean rags that were probably silk. "Tell me when to stop," Sirius told, grabbing at his shirt, and that was all the warning he got as he was yanked into his personal space while being dabbed at.

Remus did not tell him to stop, instead watching his nimble, weather worn hands the likes of which he'd never seen on someone like him work at his shirt that was roughly untucked and he went carefully down his front with as much care as he had for his mare. When his gentle splotching had covered his front, stopped at the edge of his shirt, and then traveled the path of one arm, across his shoulders, and ended at the empty space, Sirius finally stopped and looked up at him again. Remus could see the jagged lines in his face in those questioning eyes, his own sculpted features would never make it through war, Remus decided.

"Another time," he impulsively promised.

Sirius looked back at the dark night and then down at his watch as if only just realizing how late it had become. "I'm glad to see you've got good reflexes, with that new injury and all," he grinned again, watching Remus flush an even newer tinge of red as he realized his mistake now.

He finally slid the flask back into an inside pocket and caught Remus' eyes one last time as he walked backwards to the downpour. He turned the corner and jogged slowly back to the noble and ancient house that resembled a crypt more than ever on this night all the way to the porch, but stopped short of going inside, pulling the flask out for one last, long pull, as if trying to taste more than the whiskey inside.

Yes, that last line is pulled from a Tumblr post that's stuck with me for years, no I cannot find it again to credit whoever the original poster is.