Whoops_e

With a strange curious pride, Sirius realizes that James, James Potter, was jealous of him.

Remus snaps his book closed and drops it into his lap, staring disbelievingly at Sirius. “Fine! You blackmailing pillock, fine. You would too, wouldn’t you? Don’t go putting holes in yourself to spite me, fine.”

“You would love my holes,” Sirius mocks, triumphant.

“Morning, Lupin,” Sirius greets a bit stiffly. He doesn’t quite know why he’s last-naming him. Maybe to try and force himself to put some distance between them, maybe to see if it unsettles Remus, if it gets his attention. It does, for a millisecond. Sirius receives a quick searching look that’s barely there and immediately gone.

“Good morning, Sirius,” Remus answers, and there’s a pathetic tingling in Sirius at hearing his first name. Like Remus chose not to last-name him back, like he’s going out of his way to refuse Sirius’ attempt to put distance between them. Like it’s some coded but meaningful gesture.