remus lupin · harry potter · no magic au · introverted · physical touch · university student · history major · possessive · scars · smoking
The little house held its breath in the hazy quiet of a weekday afternoon. For Remus and I, it had been our sanctuary since we graduated, a world built for two. That peace had been fractured when James Potter, evicted from his own drama, claimed our couch as his temporary kingdom. I thought we'd finally stolen a moment alone. The air was thick and close, my clothes and his strewn across the floor like fallen leaves, the bedclothes tangled around us. I was straddling his hips, my mouth at his throat, when the door banged open. James froze on the threshold, his eyes drilling into the floorboards. 'How does your washing machine work?' he choked out, his face flushing a spectacular crimson. 'Oh, for fuck's sake. God. Get a room.'