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Assistant: Title: Banana Pancakes
        Author: mo0nsocks mo0nsocks 
        Chapter: 1/9 
        Summary: The man put down the drink with a little clink, looking down bashfully. Cute, Sirius thought. “It was hm—a gig.”“A gig?”The man nodded. “I’m a musician, as you probably put together. Sometimes schools will ask if I can perform there,” he shrugged.Huh. “Why schools though?”The man blinked, a slow lopsided smile forming. Sirius felt like he was missing something but was very content watching the way the red, slightly swollen lips from the steaming tea slid into a toothy smile. “I think you can figure that out on your own,” he replied.ormy love letter to early 2000s nostalgia, jack johnson, banana pancakes, and wolfstar.
        Contents: Chapter 1
    

    


      
        
          
          (See the end of the chapter for  notes.)
          
      
  

  
  
    
    Sirius sighed, shaking his head fondly as he looked down at the green dinosaur-shaped lunch box dangling in his hand. Dropping off Harry’s lunch this morning was not a part of his schedule, but being the world's best godfather, he happily accepted. That and Lily told him if he didn’t he’d have to organize Harry’s next birthday party, which Sirius did not have the mental capacity for that right now. He shivered just thinking of all the invites he’d have to delicately write (again) in his Edwardian handwriting that James made fun of constantly until it came into use. Traitor. Besides, Sirius was already late to the studio this morning anyway after the large thunderstorm that lasted all of last night, blowing branches, debris, and cutting landlines only to make a mess of traffic this morning. The receptionist at the front desk told Sirius he could give the lunch to Harry himself from the lack of teachers here due to the said traffic. Sirius smiled and said thank you, now walking on the bright, primary color blocked tile that led to the library where Harry was supposedly at. Sirius secretly loved this primary school. It was nothing like the one he grew up in: private, dull, and boring. Here they actually let kids wear what they wanted, had plenty of recess and free time, and actually looked like a place where kids learned instead of some prestigious university. It filled Sirius’ heart with childish joy. With a soft, unknown smile on his face, he continued his walk to the library. He waved politely at the teacher that passed him, leading her class down the hallway in a straight (not really) line. Some of the kids ogled at him in wonder and others made faces, sticking their tongues out and crossing their eyes.Sirius, being the respectful man he is, blew a raspberry when the teacher wasn’t looking. Giggles filled the hallway and after a stern glance from the teacher he quickened his pace, not wanting to get a lecture from a primary school teacher when he’s 26 years old. The hallway led into one full of opened door classrooms. Sirius only smiled larger at the sound of squeaky voices as he passed by. Despite what other people may think, he loves children. Though he was never a fan when he was a teen per say, after taking care of Harry and raising him alongside his parents when he was only 20 until now: 6 years later, his heart grew bigger. It shocked him how much love swelled in his chest as he looked at Harry. He now understood why parents said ‘I just want to eat you right up’ to their children. It was this urge to just protect and physically love them until your last breath. It didn’t shock James and Lily, however, which Sirius still didn’t fully understand how. To be honest with himself, Sirius thinks the reason why he never liked kids growing up or wanted any of his own (let alone trust himself to help raise one) was because of his childhood. He was scared he would screw up the child’s life. Always nervous if he acted like Walburga and Orion. He didn’t want to project his unhappy, unhealthy childhood on to another. Though he constantly was reminded (by James) that he wasn’t anything like them. He didn’t slap Harry when he got frustrated, instead he took a breath. He didn’t scream at Harry when he did something wrong, rather sat him down and helped Harry understand what to do. It was no easy task to unlearn the way he was brought up, but having Harry by his side helped immensely. He realized all the stupid sh@t he still had grilled inside his head unconsciously. Honestly, Harry was the one helping Sirius at this point, and he loved the boy so g@dd@mn much for it. Sirius blinked and realized he was at the library. Huh. He did that quite often; getting stuck inside his head and letting his body go on autopilot.Standing at the archway that propped the glass doors of the library open, he heard music coming from the room. Not just any music, live music. As if in a trance, Sirius automatically walked into the library, following the sound. He weaved his way through the small bookshelves that only came up to his ribs, floating over to the jungle of kids that sat criss crossed on the large ladybug shaped rug, staring up in awe at the person singing. Sirius may as well have been one of the kids. His eyes were widened, lunchbox loose in his hand as his mouth slightly parted. In a rocking chair in front of around 30 kids was a lanky man with loose golden-brown curls that covered his face as he looked down, playing the acoustic guitar.The wooden bookshelves carpeted floor didn’t echo the strings, rather making it sound warm and fuzzy. Sirius stared, unblinking, as the man continued to sing. His voice was raspy but in a comforting way, having a slight accent of what—Sirius could not put a finger on. There were teachers also surrounding the kids, standing against the walls as they smiled at the musician. One was recording using a camcorder, zooming up and backing out, clearly having no idea how to film properly. The voice sounded familiar—Sirius knew he knew it from somewhere, but his brain officially short circuited when the man lifted his face to gaze out at the children with a soft smile. With the large baggy jumper and corduroy trousers, Sirius was expecting an older man—someone who should be dressed in grandpa clothes. However, he was not expecting a young man looking about his age. Sirius was too far to really get a good look at his face, but from what he could see the man was beautiful. Not in magazine standard beautiful, but the type of beauty where you couldn’t look away because it was warm and unique. Like walking into an antique shop you found in a town you’ve never been in, taking in the smell of old books and faint cinnamon pinecone. Sirius wanted to browse around the antique store and trace his fingertips lightly on the strange wooden wind chimes, or the classical painting with a fancy rust-golden frame that was definitely haunted in some way. It was only when the honey-brown eyes flickered up to Sirius that he blinked, getting slammed back into reality rather roughly. Sirius closed his glossy mouth and slid a small grin on automatically, trying to cover the way the apple of his cheeks were heating up at the contact. The man only looked back down to his guitar, picking at the strings as the song continued, tasting like maple syrup. “Padfoot!” A voice whispered quite loudly. Sirius ripped his gaze from the man, watching Harry who had a large, toothy (or rather un-toothy) smile on his face. He padded his way over to Sirius from the carpet, stumbling over himself as he slammed right into his godfather. Sirius laughed quietly, crouching down to give the boy a hug. Sirius could feel the stares on him from the students and teachers as he spoke softly into Harry’s ear, “We have to whisper, okay Haz?” He felt Harry nod in the crook of his neck before the boy pulled back. “Why're you here?” Harry asked, scanning Sirius with furrowed eyebrows and a lopsided grin that matched his crooked glasses. Sirius smiled, reaching out to correct the thin golden frames. “You forgot your lunch, sprog.” Sirius whispered, holding up the dinosaur-shaped lunch box. Harry’s eyes lit up, reaching out for the soft, cushioned box. “I knew I forgot something!” Sirius chuckled, his chest filled with the childish warmth he always got when around Harry. The music was still playing in the background, though now all of Sirius’ attention was on his godson. “Why don’t you give that to your teacher and go sit back down, yeah?” Sirius said, already feeling a shadow loom over him. Harry frowned, glancing behind Sirius. “You can’t stay? There’s music!” He exclaimed, forgetting he had to whisper. Sirius held in a laugh, though his smile only got bigger as he held his pointer finger up to his lips, shushing Harry with the motion. Harry, being the absolute copy of his parents, rolled his eyes in response. A huff of a chuckle came out of Sirius’ mouth, looking at Harry who had a knowing mischievous glint in his green eyes. “I can’t stay, I’m sorry pup.” Harry huffed, clutching the lunchbox to his chest. Sirius only rolled his eyes fondly in reply, tugging Harry back in for a hug before standing up. Out of the corner of his eye he could now sense the shadow was a body—probably Harry’s teacher. “Sorry, I’ll be off now.” He said, turning around to face the person. Sirius blinked in surprise. “Oh, Reg—hi.” Regulus had his arms folded and an eyebrow cocked. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he whispered. Sirius rolled his eyes at his brother. “You’re not either. I thought you were the music teacher, not a librarian,” he retorted. Regulus scowled but Sirius saw the end of his lip twitch, “Go to work,” his brother replied. “Yeah, yeah.” Sirius waved Regulus off, looking down at Harry whose eyes were bouncing off of each brother. He glanced at Regulus, sliding on a sly smirk as an idea popped up in his mind. Sirius crouched down to Harry, whispering something in his ear. Harry immediately grinned, the mischievous glint in his eye now directed at Regulus. Sirius could only stifle a loud cackle as Harry quickly did as he was told, latching on to Regulus’ leg with all of his strength. Regulus’ eyes popped out, trying to shake Harry off without causing a scene. Harry being Harry didn’t budge and instead sank onto his bottom, wrapping his arms around Regulus’ calf in a tight hug. Regulus whipped his head to Sirius, looking murderous. Sirius grinned, glancing down at his wrist and tapping the imaginary watch. He shrugged, putting on a fake frown. “Sorry, gotta go to work,” he whispered, reveling in the scowl Regulus gave him. He winked down to Harry who was having the time of his life messing with his uncle. He saluted the both of them with a boyish grin before walking back to the doors. With a singular glance behind him, he looked at the musician that had only just now stopped playing with a long strum. Sirius blinked, freezing in his step when the honey-eyes landed on him. Sirius swore the man winked at him with a smile before turning his head back down towards the kids who were going wild, screams and clapping filling the quiet library. A buzzing in his pocket caused Sirius to unlatch his gaze from the beautiful vintage man. Sirius reached into his pocket, flipping open his phone. “Hello?” He asked, taking a step out into the hallway. “Where the hell are you? That cat attacked me again! I had to sprint into the studio with a single shoe, Sirius. One shoe!” Peter yelled, his voice traced with genuine fear. “I’m looking outside the window and she’s eating my lace—oh sh@t, no not the—f@ck.” Sirius rolled his eyes, a laugh sprouting out his chest due to his friend's utter misery. “I’m coming, don’t worry Wormy. Have you got the broom? Worm? Wormy? Wormtail…Peter?”  * * * October has always been one of Sirius’ favorite times of the year. He loved the crisp breeze nipping at his pink dusted nose, the way the trees turned vibrant with all the different warm hues, the horribly carved pumpkin resting on porches, the feeling of dry leaves crunching under his boots. He loved dressing up in character, making seasonal crafts with Harry, trying to bake an apple pie and surprise Lily when she got home from work. He loved the lingering scent of cinnamon in the air, the comforting warmth of treats in the oven, how regular dreary London days only added to the feeling of spookiness.Sirius positively loved autumn. Though this year autumn reminded him of something else. Someone else. It had been 3 weeks since he walked into the school library and saw the absolute embodiment of autumn sitting on a dark oak rocking chair with tawny fluffy curls and a horrendously ugly brown grandpa jumper that drooled over the lean body. Every time Sirius stepped on a leaf, kicked a pinecone, felt rain droplets splatter against his cheeks, or smelt anything toasty, he thought of him. It’s not like Sirius had never had a crush. Well, at least that he thinks. He’s never—well, had one this bad at least. During school he’d have crushes. Or at least say he had a crush. He found people attractive. Kissed them, did whatever teenagers and young adults do—but this? This felt different. It was strange, he thought. He’s never been this attracted to a person. Not even physically, but internal attraction. Sirius thinks love at first sight is stupid. How can you love someone just by their looks? And he’s not saying that he loves this man, or fell in love with him, but it’s definitely something. Love is a strong word for Sirius and something he doesn’t feel too often. Though when he does, he does it hard. He loves deeply. It's either you're in or you’re out. Sirius doesn’t feel love for this man. How could he—he’s never even spoken to the guy. However, this sort of attraction—this pull he’s feeling, well, it’s not love, but it’s something. And it’s odd to Sirius to be this sort of obsessed. He’s never looked at a pinecone and thought: wow, this looks like a stranger I made eye contact twice with. But here he is, staring at a pinecone he just crunched under his chunky platform boot. 
  Get out of your head, Sirius. The hell is wrong with you. 
Sirius rolled his eyes at himself, stupid stupid stupid, and continued on his walk. Peter had practically begged Sirius to go down to Honeydukes and grab lunch. Apparently their pumpkin muffins are to die for and Peter would drop dead right here on this counter if he didn’t get it. Dramatic b@st@rd, Sirius thought. Sirius only gave his friend trouble because it was fun and easy to get Peter all riled up, but he really didn’t mind the walk. Especially with it being autumn, he’ll take all the outside time he can get. Honeydukes was just 3 blocks over from their studio, so it wasn’t a hike or anything. Besides, some fresh air could do Sirius some good. Every time Sirius sketched, painted, wheeled out clay, even cleaning up the artistic mess, his thoughts would always flow to the honey-eyed man. It was bl@@dy annoying, actually. Sirius always liked puzzles. Riddles. Enigmas. And to his brain this man was a mystery for some odd reason. Just from the one time seeing him, Sirius wanted to know everything. Why was he at a primary school playing the guitar for all the little monkeys that couldn’t sit still on the ladybug carpet? Why was he wearing that terrifyingly ugly jumper? What’s that accent seeping into the song? How did he get that scar across his face? Was his nails painted or was Sirius going insane? Probably the latter. Sirius was hit with a wave of dizzyingly sweet coffee and fresh baked bread as he pulled open the Halloween-decorated glass door that led into Honeydukes. His thoughts of mystery man immediately dissipated into the sugar filled air, breezin’ on by like the soft wind outside. With his hands shoved into his prized leather jacket, he looked up at the menu. It was handwritten on a black chalkboard. If Sirius had to guess, there was probably an art student working here that got roped into writing it. Lord knows he had that experience one too many times. It did look aesthetically nice, though. Especially with the little pumpkin and ghost doodles in the corners. Sirius loved details like that; it made his artistic heart happy. Pumpkin cream muffin, Sirius repeated in his head as he stepped up to the counter. Honeydukes was a cute, quaint (not really, it was rather large considering the area) cafe that was on the corner of an intersection down on Knockturn. He’d been in here a multitude of times, stopping by on his way to and back from work. Most of those times it was against his will—Peter forcing him to go grab his food in exchange for cleaning up the studio. Sirius secretly thought that was a bad deal—who in their right mind would want to clean up an art studio full of pottery and paint?—but he didn’t voice that. He loved Honeydukes even though they were rather popular. The people dining here were always respectful, though. Never loud and rowdy, just minding their business as they ate and drank peacefully. Sirius especially loved the sound of soft mutters, silverware clinking, the old-school 70s music playing in the crackling speakers, and the occasional laughter in the corner booth full of kids skipping class. “How may I help you?” The worker, Sirius glanced down at the name tag, Vanity, asked. “I’ll get two of the pumpkin cream muffins, thanks.” He replied, tuning out the calls of others who ordered before him. She nodded, typing it into the cashier before looking back up, “Anything else?” Sirius pierced his lips, rocking on the tip of his toes the back to the bottom of his heels. He glanced back up at the menu, pondering if he should order a drink. He did want to try a seasonal drink—Honeydukes was known for the pumpkin flavored lattes, though he couldn’t decide which one to get, or if he should get one at all. On one hand if he got it for himself then Peter would be all dramatic and demand for a sip, only to pout when Sirius flicked him on the forehead and said no. But on the other hand he could get something for Peter, though the man was picky when it came to drinks. And on the other-other hand Sirius didn’t even know what drink he wanted. “You should get the Harvest Moon,” a voice said on the verge of a whisper right near his ear. Sirius jumped, clutching his pearls, and whipped his head to the person who just tickled his skin with their cinnamon breath by his ear. With eyes that only got wider at the sight of the honey-eyes that were way too close than he was used to, he blew out a startled breath. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” The man apologized with a small crooked smile, looking amused. Sirius shook his head automatically, dismissing the man that was currently making his heart race. “You’re good,” he replied. Sirius blinked, letting a beat pass as he stared, realizing that he was looking at the man that was haunting his every thought for the past weeks. A throat cleared in front of him. Sirius turned his head, looking at Vanity who had her eyebrows raised expectedly, gaze flickering between the two men. Sh@t, Sirius cursed in his mind before clearing his throat. “Right, yes I’ll uh…take the Harvest Moon as well,” he replied. Smooth. Vanity nodded, “Just one?” You better like this, Peter. “Two, please.” “‘Kay,” Vanity replied, typing in the cashier. “Fifteen pounds flat,” she looked up at Sirius who nodded, still reeling in his mind as he got out his wallet and handed her the money. Sirius didn’t even notice the man left until he took a step off to the side, letting the next customer order from behind him. It took all the strength he had not to whip his head around and scan the cafe seats to see if he had sat down or not. Instead, he stood patiently (rolling back and forth on his feet—an unconscious nervous habit) and waited for his order to be called out. Thankfully the cafe wasn’t bustling with customers with it being 2 o’clock on a Thursday afternoon, so his order was called within—Sirius doesn’t actually know how long. He had zoned out thinking of the freckles that he saw up close, dusting the bridge of the honey-eyed man’s nose. “Thank you,” Sirius said to the worker that handed him the bag of muffins and two earth-friendly coffee cups. It was only then that Sirius didn’t even know what the hell he ordered. The f@ck was a Harvest Moon? He really needed to stop letting his heart talk before his brain did. Debating on whether to check out the seats to see if the man was still there, or just booking it after the humiliation he felt internally, his eyes—without his consent—wandered off to the seating. His heart skipped a beat, what are you, 13?, at the sight of floppy golden curls tucked away in the corner seat with only two chairs facing across from one another. It didn’t seem like anyone had been sitting in the opposite chair. In fact, all that was there at the table was a leather-bound journal resting on the side, a drink steaming in front of him alongside a cinnamon roll that made Sirius question whether it was the morning or not. Though his mind was made up when the face looked up, catching Sirius’ eye. Mustering all of the confidence and cockiness he usually held himself with, he weaved his way through the seats and ended up hovering over the man’s table. F@ck, Sirius thought. What do I do now? It seemed as if the honey-almost-amber eyes had him trapped. Literally all of his past knowledge and experience of talking to someone was thrown out the window. The man nodded slightly to the seat in front of him. An invitation. Sirius grinned automatically, setting down the bag and two coffees he was holding and pulled out the seat, sitting down. “Hi.” “Hello,” the man replied. Up close the man was more beautiful than from afar. Sirius secretly wished he was playing the guitar so his melting gaze wasn’t focused on him so intensely. No, Sirius scolded. You will talk to this man and make him like you. Casanova of Hogwarts, he reminded himself of the title he got in the yearbook. Casanova! “How are you?” Sirius asked casually, glancing down to the torn and weathered leather-bound journal.After a moment of thought, wow, he really thought about his answer, he replied; “I’m good, actually. Not storming like it was when we last saw each other.” Sirius laughed, his heart skipping again. “You remember me?” The man shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back in the seat. “How could I forget the man holding a dinosaur lunchbox?” “His name is Lion, thank you very much.” Sirius chided. The man raised one of his dark, fluffy eyebrows. “The dinosaur is named Lion?” “Yes, get with it,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Apologies, very respectable name for a dinosaur.” The man amended with a lopsided smile. Sirius sighed, placing an elbow on the table with his palm cupping his chin. “Personally, I voted for Micropachycephalosaurus but Harry couldn’t pronounce that.” The man blinked. “I’m sorry?” Sirius laughed, “It’s a scientific name for,” he used two fingers to quote, “‘small thick-headed lizard’.” “And you know this, how?” “Harry was really big into dinosaurs when he was three.” Sirius replied like that explained it all. The man nodded his head slowly with an amused expression. “Right,” he crossed his arms. “Is Harry the one that was glued on to Mr. Black’s leg for the rest of the time?” Sirius let out a cackle, “the whole time? I thought Reggie was exaggerating about that.” He shook his head, picturing Harry holding on for dear life as Regulus shuffled throughout the library. “No, very much not exaggerating. Two teachers had to pluck him off. It was very fun to watch, actually.” “Well, he was promised ice cream if he did it…so,” Sirius shrugged. “You told him to do that?” The man mused, eyes bright with mirth. Sirius smirked. “Gotta annoy my brother somehow, y’know?” “Wow,” the man clicked his tongue, don’t look at his lips, “exploiting your child for your own entertainment.” Sirius laughed, throwing his head back. “Technically not my child, so it’s all good.” “Oh?” Sirius nodded, “He’s my godson. James and Lily are his parents—my best friends.” “Oh I see how it is,” the man leaned forward, cocking an eyebrow, “you get him into trouble and they deal with the consequences.” Sirius copied his posture, a mere 4 inches between them. “Precisely,” he winked before leaning back. A faint pink rose on the tips of the ears that peeked out of the mess of curls as the man cleared his throat. Sirius smiled to himself, point to me. “So, what were you doing at school?” “Singing?” the man replied incredulously, picking up his drink and sipping out of it. Sirius rolled his eyes, “I mean why,” he clarified, watching the way the drink rolled down the tan throat as he swallowed. The man put down the drink with a little clink, looking down bashfully. Cute, Sirius thought. “It was hm—a gig.” “A gig?” The man nodded. “I’m a musician—as you probably put together—sometimes schools will ask if I can perform there,” he shrugged. Huh. “Why schools though?” The man blinked, a slow lopsided smile forming. Sirius felt like he was missing something but was very content watching the way the red, slightly swollen lips from the steaming tea slid into a toothy smile. “I think you can figure that out on your own,” he replied. Sirius deadpanned. “That doesn’t give me anything.” The man shrugged casually. “You’ll work it out eventually.” He paused, taking a moment to cut a piece of his cinnamon roll and eat it. Sirius watched him, mesmerized. The single beam of sun was trickling through the shop's window, illuminating the backside of the man, making him glow a warm golden. “Enough about me, why do you have paint in your face?” Sirius blinked out of his trance, reaching up to his cheek—yup. There was dried paint on it. F@ck. He played it off with a nonchalant shrug, “I think you can figure that out on your own.” The man stared at Sirius then shook his head, a laugh coming out of his mouth that made butterflies appear in Sirius’ stomach. F@ck@ng butterflies—are you kidding? “Touché,” he replied. “I like your nails,” Sirius blurted out after seeing the nails were in fact painted, only now the dark navy was chipped.  The man followed Sirius’ gaze and a ghost of a fond smile appeared on his lips. “Thanks,” he said. “Against my will, but I like it too.” “Against your will, huh?” Sirius fanned his hands out in front of his face, wiggling his fingers that were painted a fresh black. “Don’t have a problem with painted nails, do you?” “No, no, not at all.” The man quickly clarified, staring at Sirius’ fingers that were littered with rings and random doodles in pen. “Just never had the desire to do it by myself,” he explained. Sirius hummed. “Girlfriend did it for you then?” A laugh rumbled out of the other man’s chest. “No,” he chuckled before sobering up after a questioning look from Sirius. “No, just want uh—to show kids they can do whatever they want, y’know.” How can a person get more perfect? Bl@@dy f@ck@ng hell. Sirius smiled, “that’s thoughtful of you. God knows I would’ve needed that reassurance growing up,” he laughed self deprecatingly. The man’s smile turned into a small frown, though his eyes were understanding. “Kids need good role models.” He paused, “I’m sure Harry is glad he has you for one.” Sirius froze, his heart fluttering at the compliment. “You barely know me,” he dismissed, “but thank you.” The man shrugged. “I know a good person when I see one. Besides, by the way he jumped up and ran to you—it shows a lot.” F@ck, don’t cry. “You saw that? I hope we weren’t too disruptive.” The man shook his head, reassuring Sirius. “Not at all. To be honest, the kids were scarily quiet. I’m used to singing and dancing not just…looking,” he laughed shyly, looking down in his lap as he pushed a curl behind his ear. “I don’t blame them,” Sirius said, watching the way the man glanced up with question. “I couldn’t look away either.” The honey-eyes turned wide, lips slightly parting. Another point. A buzz snapped Sirius out of the drooling eye contact, realizing he had been having this conversation for a good while. He probably only had 5 minutes of his lunch break left before he had to get back to the waiting customers. “Sh@t,” he stood up abruptly, “I’ve got to go—Wormy—studio—bye, it was nice talking to you!” Sirius snatched the bag and coffee, practically sprinting out the door, hair getting blown away by the autumn breeze as he skipped his way down the block, not noticing he left one of his Harvest Moon coffees back with the honey-eyed man. 
  
  

    
      
        
        
          fun fact: there is an actual coffee called harvest moon! i’ve never tried it before but it must be good considering it’s on an article called: “10 coffee drinks that are absolutely perfect for fall.”p.s: right now this is still wip, i just wanted to get this out there so you can (maybe!!) bookmark it and have a little thing to look forward to as we enter summer (or winter for my southern hemisphere readers!) ^^ hope 2 see you again!'
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