Chapter Text
When Teddy Met Reggie could easily have been the title of a film or children’s book—if so, blame Barty, he’s the storyteller among us.
Remus and Teddy were rarely apart. Mostly it had to do with all the crap Remus got whenever he asked for a babysitter. He suspected it had to do with the whole single dad parenting thing. But this time Harry was spending the night, so Teddy was alright, one could even say way better off. Teddy adored Harry, and Harry really enjoyed the whole godfather spiel. So Remus stepped out to join Sirius and some friends at the local pub.
Remus first met Regulus at the bar when he went to get drinks. Regulus followed him back to the table and sat down as if he knew everyone already.
He fixed his wide grey eyes on Remus and kissed him when everyone stepped out for a smoke. “Might as well seize the moment,” Regulus muttered.
Sirius picked up on it right away. Wormtail didn't have a clue. They came back in, chuckling, shaking off the rain, and sat down opposite them at the rough wooden table by the window. The drops on the glass turned the lanterns outside into a kaleidoscope of streaks mirrored in the rain-slick asphalt.
Wormtail was mid-rant about how hard it was to find someone. “It’s fucking impossible,” he said. “I’ve tried everything. Nobody wants me.”
“Look at those two,” said Sirius, nodding at Remus and Regulus. “You can tell they’re made for each other. Can’t you see it?” He grinned at Remus.
“See what? They just met! Do you even know each other?”
“Nope,” said Regulus. Remus shook his head. But their eyes met, and a faint smile curled Regulus’ lip.
Wormtails real name is Peter, but the story behind his nickname is buried too deep in time for most to remember. When asked, he claims he has no idea. Sirius said it came from a scene in an old black-and-white movie, where the characters repeatedly called for the waiter, started off by shouting for That boy which turned into Ratboy and - several drinks later, accompanied by raucous laughter - became Wormtail. Peter had brought it up as a time capsule of colonial arrogance and bullying. Since then, the name stuck. But James told Remus it had something to do with an incident at the correctional facility where Peter worked.
“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve never met a woman at a bar who wanted to sleep with me. I mean, if I may say so myself…”
Regulus excused himself and navigated his way through chairs and bar tables.
“… don’t get how women choose men. You’d think they’d prefer someone with a job and an apartment. Instead, she goes home with a drunken writer.”
“Women want danger and excitement,” said Sirius. “Artists never have trouble getting girls. You should be an artist, Wormtail.”
“Live off welfare and draw comics?” said Wormtail with a dry chuckle. “No thanks. I like my life orderly.”
“Couldn't you just hang out with women, as friends?” Remus asked. “That usually does the trick eventually. Lots of people fall in love at work.”
“Love, huh,” Wormtail said. “Never been in love. I just want a girlfriend.”
Regulus sat down next to Remus again. He looked decent. Well-groomed dark hair, grey eyes, black jeans and a button-up shirt. Not as scruffy as most guys who frequented this place. Like Sirius, with his wild hair, loose plaid scarf, black t-shirt and stubble lazily groomed with kitchen scissors.
Regulus scribbled something on a slip of paper he’d picked up from the bar and stuffed it in his pocket. “Think of a…”
“Seven. It’s always seven, if you’re asking me to pick a number between one and ten,” Remus said. “Works just like blue hammer.”
He stared at Remus. “Interesting,” he said. “I learn something every day.”
“Let me see the note then,” Remus said.
“Tomorrow,” Regulus replied. “At breakfast.”
“Oh, that's so cheesy,” Remus said. But he smiled.
Wormtail and Sirius chatted about Wormtails latest girlfriend—the one with an allergy to electricity. “And wouldn’t you know, I forgot to turn off my phone. She didn’t notice a thing.”
By the time the lights came on, both Regulus and Remus had cleared their bill. As if by silent agreement. Remus nodded toward the door and they slipped out into the rain without saying goodbye.
“I live just on the other side of that building,” Remus said, pointing to the yellow three-story house with century-old charm and the Arabic grocery shop on street level, boxes of vegetables still out front.
Regulus nodded, and they walked side by side, half a meter apart.
When they rounded a corner and stepped into a dark spot the streetlights didn’t reach, Remus tugged at Regulus blazer sleeve, stepped forward, and kissed him.
Yeah, they had sex. And it was fine. But when they were done, they lay in silence. Just like you hear about men sometimes do—but Remus’d rarely experienced it. The few men he’d brought home before had held Remus through the night.
Regulus turned away. Remus turned the same way, with his back to the window, touching the branches of the chestnut tree not yet bare, moonlight slipping in over the bed and turning the green duvet a ghostly blue.
“So what do you dream about?” Remus asked, eyes shut, voice drowsy. He wanted to bridge the mental and physical gap with words.
“Could we just sleep?” Regulus replied.
“Sure.” So Remus stopped caring if Regulus was okay. He turned and curled into his usual sleeping pose—on his stomach, one leg drawn up, arms wrapped around the pillow.
In the morning Remus woke up to the sun in his eyes. He could feel a warm body behind him. He should probably make Regulus wake up so he could leave. Before Teddy…
He turned around and found Regulus awake. Watching Remus with serious grey eyes.
“Hi.” Remus smiled. He always smiled. To smooth things over. To make sure the vibe was okay. So again he smiled.
“Hi.” Regulus didn’t smile. Just looked uncomfortable. Wide-eyed. He probably didn’t have kids. No long-term relationships, he’d told Remus. Couldn't understand why.
Maybe if you smiled a bit more, Regulus… , Remus thought and his smile twisted into a grin. Another classic scene (it's all Barry's fault) of man wakes up in a other man’s bed and just wants to flee.
“Are you mocking me?”
“Uh no, just chill,” Remus said.
“Okay,” Regulus said and finally he raised the corners of his lips a fraction of an inch.
Remus heard noises from the kids’ room. It was right next to the living room. One had to walk through the living room to get to Remus bedroom from the hall. And the door was open.
First a thud on the floor. A giggle from Teddy. A squeal from Harry. Teddy was humming as he stomped and strutted through the living room like he had a song inside he couldn’t help but perform.
Remus saw Teddy before Teddy saw him. Eleven years old, in just his underwear, blue curls bouncing. He usually slicked them down. He hated his curls. “Dad, could you cut these awful curls off?” he often pleaded when they stood out too much.
Then Teddy noticed —him and Regulus. Crap. Why didn’t he send Regulus off five minutes earlier?
The eleven-year-old crept toward Remus's bedroom door, painfully slow and deliberate. He had a grin—mischievous mixed with trepidation—like he was trying to suppress it but failing.
He came in the bedroom and slid along the bed’s edge, scrutinizing Regulus.
“So … you were drunk last night?” Teddy said.
Oh shit. “No,” Remus said.
“Then what’s he doing here?”
“He’s… a friend… No, I wasn’t drunk. This is Regulus,” Remus stuttered. Damn kid, he thought and tried not to grin.
“Hi,” said Regulus.
“Right…” Teddy paced the bedside with his hands behind his back. “So, are you two going to do what they always do in the movies?”
“What do you mean?” Remus asked.
“You know—get married?”
Regulus spluttered. From shock, Remus guessed.
“Oh absolutely not,” Remus said.
He felt Regulus’s gaze.His thoughts raced. Could the kid say anything worse? Yeah. Maybe… oh no, not the ‘new dad’ thing, please. Remus swallowed and braced himself.
“Hmm.” Teddy put a hand on his chin and looked thoughtful. “Is it to annoy James?”
Remus snapped, “No, it’s not to annoy James. Why would you say that?”
“Well, you two are friends again and all.”
Remus took a deep breath and decided to put a distinct stop to an already awkward situation. “Okay, off you go! Watch the telly or something. Now! Shoo,” he said and pointed towards the door.“Out!”
Teddy left, throwing one last long glance over his shoulder.
“Close the door!” Remus called after him.
Teddy kicked it shut with one foot.
Remus looked down with shoulders that shaked with quiet laughter.
Regulus looked grim. “Yeah, I think I should go.”
“Yeah.” Remus was still chuckling.”
“You thought that was funny?”
“Yeah, actually,” he said. And he remembered that Regulus didn’t have kids. One develops a certain kind of humor when you do.
Regulus dressed quickly, and Remus walked him to the door.
Regulus plucked some invisible fluff from his blazer and cleared his throat.
“The number,” Remus said, just to lighten the mood.
“What?” Regulus froze.
“The note in your pocket Regulus,”Remus clarified.
Then Regulus smiled and pulled a crumpled note from his breast pocket and handed it to Remus. “Call me Reggie,” he said.
Remus unfolded the note, and of course it was a seven! He opened the door and gave a lazy wave and a grin. There. Off you go.
Regulus stepped out with a puzzled look.
It wasn’t the last time Remus saw Regulus. Next time, Regulus tried his hand at the next chapter of The Game.