#and he can always pretend it wasnt him akshasf

[vaindumbass]

((written for @silversickles minifest! Day two: detention))

There was a desk in the room used for detention that belonged to Sirius. It was in one of the middle rows, because only suck-ups sit in the front and teachers always look in the back, and it was next to the window, so that he could look out over the grounds.

The desk was made from the same old wood as the other ones, and it was just as battered and ugly as the rest of them. The only difference was that this one was filled with scribbles by Sirius’ hand, and a few were courtesy of James, who always sat at the desk next to him.

They both claimed to have drawn the beautiful phoenix in the middle of the desk, but everyone knew it was actually Peter. Slughorn, who ‘supervised’ the detentions most of the time (he always fell asleep at his desk), never noticed.

Everyone knew it was Sirius’ desk, because he’d make it clear every time he had detention (and that was very, very often), and no one would sit there. Except this time, it seems.

Sirius is therefore absolutely stunned for two reasons when he walks into the classroom, 1) because someone is sitting in his seat, and 2) because the boy sitting there is absolutely gorgeous. Sirius doesn’t know him, only knows that he’s a recent transfer student, and the only reason he vaguely remembers that is because of the aforementioned gorgeousness.

The boy’s crooked nose almost touches the paper when he writes, and his lovely honey brown eyes are focused on the ink flowing out of his quill. There’s even a bit of ink in his (soft-looking) curls, which Sirius, unfortunately, thinks is endearing.

It’s truly a shame that he’s in Sirius’ chair.

“You’re in my seat.” Sirius says.

In one slow, smooth motion, the boy looks up from where he’s working, and looks Sirius up and down. Sirius resists both the urge to smile flirtatiously at him, and the one to physically pull him out of the chair. “Who are you?”

“Sirius Black.” He smiles at him. “I’d be more pleased to meet you if you weren’t sitting in my chair.” 

The boy huffs incredulously, as if he can’t believe Sirius is making such a big deal out of this, as if he thinks Sirius is being petty. (He has a nice smile.) “Remus Lupin. Also, I don’t believe your name is on it?” 

Sirius’ smile widens. “Maybe you should look a little better. If you would just get up...” The boy narrows his eyes at him suspiciously, but he stands up. Still grinning, Sirius takes the chair, and points to the place where it says: Sirius Black.

Remus shakes his head, but the corners of his mouth are curled up so Sirius takes it as a win. “That’s just ridicul--” 

Sirius cuts Remus off the moment he takes the now-free chair and turns it around as fast as he can, and then he sits in it, demonstratively. Remus laughs and pushes him to the side, and Sirius ignores the way he’s almost falling off the chair in favour of memorizing the sound.

Of course, this is the moment Slughorn, who had been sleeping peacefully, chooses to wake up. “Black, Lupin, back to your seats, please.” He winks exaggeratedly at Sirius. “Even your famous family can’t help you here.” 

Sirius begrudgingly accepts and goes to sit in a different desk, muttering about how he doesnt want his families help. Remus has the nerve to shoot him a triumphant grin, and then he looks shocked that he was in a fight over a chair of all things, and Sirius thinks he’s in love.

He’s sure of that the next time he has detention and sees a phone number crawled under his name, and the words: I hope you won’t make such a fuss about chairs at our date.

((edit: now with a part two!))