Chapter Text
January
Oi lad
Stop at black sheep on your way through Burra.
Get fucked
I’ve already ordered. You just have to pick up
I hate you
l-l
The evening shadows were slanting low across the hills as James settled beneath the bullnose. He put his feet up on the railing and slouched low in his seat, nose wrinkled against a reek of citronella as he raised his Tooheys and took a long gulp.
He was freshly showered and barely dressed and waiting for the tell-tale rumble of tyres up the rocky, pot-hole ridden driveway. He endured several false starts before finally a smog of hot dust stirred in the air and was followed by the approaching growl of an engine.
James sat up straight, watching with eager eyes as a familiar old Ford ute crunched around the sweep in the crazy-long driveway and came into view through the flanks of ancient gum trees. His heartbeat quickened, breath snagging excitedly in the base of his throat.
The ute squeaked to a stop, engine still chugging as the door creaked open.
James sprang to his feet, throwing his arms wide in welcome and slopping a fizz of beer all down his arm. “Blackfella!”
“Wogboy!” came the warm, yet deliberately more moderated reply. But the grin was irrepressible and the gleam in Remus’ eyes as he trotted over to meet James on the steps was far and away the highlight of his day.
James jumped down and flung his arms around Remus, crushing him. “You’re really fucking here,” he grinned. “Jesus fuck , you’re skinny.”
“What about you?” Remus said incredulously, stepping back and throwing scouring eyes over him. “You must weigh, like, forty kilos.”
“Sixty-eight,” James sneered cheerfully. “S’good ta see you, mate. Back home, eh? Where you belong.”
“Maybe,” Remus said. His evasiveness both annoyed and warmed James; it was so endearingly familiar. “Food’s on the front seat. Get it while I let the dogs off?”
“ Food ,” James echoed. Grinning, he followed Remus back towards the ute, starving eyes absorbing him. He retrieved the boxes from the cab and leaned against the door as Remus killed the engine, pocketed his keys, and then hoisted himself onto the tray. “Lookin’ good, cowboy.”
“Fuck up,” Remus said vaguely. He crouched down beside the motorbike strapped securely to the roll bar and thrust his long fingers into the plush coat of his kelpie. Her tail skittered frantically across the metal, too well-trained to do more than wriggle. Beside them, his cattle dog puppy yipped and leaned on her chain. His fingers were deft with the clips and after moments the dogs scampered over the tailgate and bounded towards James’ garden.
Remus hooked his boot onto the side of the ute and hopped down, all wiry limbs and easy grace and looking achingly like James remembered. He met Remus’ crooked, questioning smile with one of his own and muttered, “Bloody missed you.”
“Yeah, alright.” Remus smiled and ducked away from his gaze. “I can really tell by the effort you made. Couldn’ta put on clothes before I got here?”
“Too fuckin’ hot for clothes,” James said, leading the way back towards the verandah with a jerk of the head. Still damp, his hair flipped across his brow and left a smudge of steam across his glasses. “Do you know what it got to today?”
“I came from Broken Hill , Prongs,” Remus said. He gave a low whistle and the dogs came running. Their reunion was paused while Remus tended to them, and it was getting properly dark by the time they both fell into seats outside, the air balmy but fresh, scented with beer and pizza.
James stretched his bare legs out, idly tugging the hem of his Tradie shorts. “Wish you’d gotten here earlier.”
Remus snorted and threw his crusts to the dogs. They happily crunched them, patiently settled by his seat. “I wanted to avoid the worst of the heat. Not that it matters, it was still thirty degrees when left Burra.”
“Sure,” James said, sinking his teeth into a slice and talking around a mouthful. “But still. Two years without you is too long, Moony.”
Remus raised his beer, drinking deep. Condensation rolled over the shoulder of his bottle, dripping against his fingers. He swallowed and cleared his throat, voice forcibly even. “I was here at Easter, Prongs.”
“ Easter was eight months ago,” James snapped.
“Mm,” Remus murmured, ignoring him. “This is pretty great pizza.”
“Moony.”
“Leave it, Prongs,” Remus said, not looking at him. “I’m here now, okay? It’s enough.”
Blinking slowly as the night grew comfortable and dark around them, James stayed silent. It wasn’t enough for him but he was grateful for it all the same.
l-l
Six weeks earlier…
“He just … gave you the farm?” James asked, sliding a pint over to Sirius and dropping into the seat across from him.
“Yup,” Sirius confirmed. “Happy christmas, here’s three thousand hectares and a bunch of fly-blown sheep.”
“So, what? He’s retiring then? Or what?”
“Well,” Sirius sniffed a deep breath and settled back in his seat. “So he says. But honestly, it’s more ‘cause his health is catching up to him and he can’t keep up.”
James paused, giving Sirius a careful glance. “He okay?”
Sirius shrugged, pressing a fingertip up the dribbling condensation on his glass. “With Alphard, who knows? I’ve got my doubts.”
“What about your brother?” James asked, inwardly cringing at the edge that crept into his voice.
Sirius’ brow twitched and his eyes dropped to follow the sudden nervous drum of James’ fingertips on the wooden tabletop. “What about him?”
“What’s his plan?”
Shrugging again, Sirius said with a contrived flippancy, “No idea.”
“Is he gonna re-enrol?”
“If you’re so interested in him ,” Sirius snapped, raising his glass and scowling at James over the foam, “why don’t you ask him . I’m not a fucking postie.”
James squinted at him sourly. “Just makin’ conversation, arsehole.”
“Uh huh.” Sirius’ grey eyes were uncomfortably sharp.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Sirius said, his lofty tone accentuating the relative poshness of his lingering Londoner accent. It made James want to hit him in the face. “Just, I notice that you always drag every conversation around to him.”
James knew Sirius was suggesting something he wasn’t prepared to own. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Uh huh,” Sirius repeated, sounding bored.
“Anyway,” James said, irritated. He shoved a hand through his hair, ruffling it back from his brow. “We weren’t actually talking about me.”
“No!” Sirius agreed, emerging from his glass with a half-grin. “We weren’t, amazingly. Good of you to realise, wanker.”
“Get over yourself,” James said, and flicked a Coopers coaster at him. “So. What’s your plan then?”
Sirius paused, setting his glass down. He licked his lips thoughtfully then admitted, “I’m not fully sure yet. Like, I’ve been doing a lot of stuff anyway, but now there’s no backup. I reckon I might look at hiring a full-time assistant.”
“Really?” James asked, hooking a surprised brow. He carefully hid his disappointment at the realisation that Regulus was obviously not planning to come home.
“Yeah, well. We get blokes in as needed of course. But an all-rounder to help out with the heavy work would be good.”
James sat back and studied him for a moment, a curl of hope settling in his chest. “I reckon I know just the guy.”
l-l
Present…
Fatigue was James’ friend when it came to getting Remus to open up. Switching from beer to bourbon helped too.
“So are you glad to be back? Like, Country and all of that?”
“Shut the fuck up, James. You dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”
There was a soft pause and then James reached across the rickety table between them and nudged Remus’ fingers with his own. “D’you miss her heaps still?” he asked, voice very low.
“Yeah,” Remus rasped. He dropped his elbows to his knees and leant forwards to scratch his puppy behind the ear, blatantly avoiding James’ sympathy.
“ Talk to me , you jerk.”
Remus sighed. “I feel … guilty about it.”
“About what?” James asked, peering at him.
Lifting the puppy into his lap, Remus bowed his face against her coat. “You mummy’s beautiful girl?” he cooed in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible. Then he tipped just slightly towards James and said, “She always wanted me to be more … y’know, interested. Involved . In our heritage. In Country. And I just couldn’t , because, well. You know. It was already too bloody hard, right? And now she’s gone and I regret not having that bond, not having shared something so important with her.”
“Moony, she loved you.”
“Yeah, and I turned my back on everything that mattered to her. And then I ran away.”
“You’re too hard on yourself,” James said. “You were grieving, you’re allowed to grieve. And now you’re home. You can like, get in touch with your Elders or whatever and get back in touch.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Remus said on an exhale. Then he stood up abruptly, cradling the dog to his chest. “I really need a fucking shower, mate.”
James knew better than to reason with him once Remus detached. So he swallowed the last of his liquor and led the way into the old stone house James had been occupying since he was twenty-one, mostly by himself. He didn’t need to show Remus anything, but he did anyway, steering him towards the bathroom.
Remus gave the dog’s ear a playful bite and then passed her to James. Their hands touched and James lingered, holding Remus’ eyes with a steely glare. “Would you be here if I hadn’t lined this job up for you?”
Remus drew back and reached for the door. “Maybe,” was all the answer he gave before he graced James with a sparkling grin and shoved the door closed in his face.