Barefoot Day Seven
Title: Flight of Fancy
Author: rev02a
Rating: PG
Warnings: More bad writing. Ah, it's so nice to get it out of my system.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine.
Prompt: gardening
Sirius meanders though the Potter’s garden humming to himself. There are some abnormally tall oaks on the east side of the house, surrounded by a six or seven foot tall brick fence. He wanders between the bricks and the trees with his self-created tune swinging on the wind beside him.
It’s hot. He’s hot. He tugs his t-shirt off over his head. It’s a bit tighter than its been before, but that’s probably because everyone keeps shoving food at him.
“You have to eat, Sirius!” they yell, glaring at him for his clear neglectful behavior as a pregnant parent.
He’s taken to it, to a degree. After all, he is a teenage boy and he burns through calories like Guy Fawkes dreamed of burning through Parliament. Maybe it's been the mass amount of chocolate cake Lily has fed him, but somehow in the space of 36 hours, he has come to terms with the fact that not only is he pregnant, but possibly twice over, and he’ll be giving birth in less than two weeks. Chocolate is rather soothing.
He is feeling smothered. He just wants to be away from people for a while, something that was easier said than done. In the end, it took him about an hour to escape from his room and from the house without being followed. In order to escape, Sirius had to get Lily started in on James about letting a pregnant man fall down a well, and distracting Peter with the August edition of Circe’s Magical Tits, and just avoiding Remus like the plague. Thankfully, the Potters left the house early in the morning with dreams of seeing a Southwestern Green-Speckled Grackle and have yet to return.
As he walks, he begins to fret.
How is he going to explain this to the Potters? Ugh, pardon me, Mr. Potter, but I think I need to go to St. Mungo’s. Yes, I am feeling poorly; I think I may be in labor. Well, yes, I do know that in order to be a boy and have babies I must have rubbed elbows with a werewolf. Lucky for all assembled, we all know who he is-and although this is a secret that I’m not supposed to tell anyone (yet, can’t seem to keep to myself), Remus just happens to be the daddy… er…the second one as he gets furry once a month.
None of this looks good for either boy. Sirius groans and rubs the back of his neck. What are they going to do? They’re too young for this! They don’t know what to do with a baby! …or six babies…
“Gah!” Sirius yells in frustration and, to his surprise, Remus leans around a nearby tree.
“You startled me,” he says and Sirius tenses.
“Ugh, sorry,” he replies.
Nothing has really been the same with the two of them since that whole Willow Thing and now, it seems, the odds that this situation will improve does not seem likely. Remus looks apprehensively around, as if seeing who has chosen to escort Sirius. When he sees no one, he pats the spot on the grass next to him. Sirius pauses and then sits down next to him.
Once there, he sees that there is dirt packed under Remus’s fingernails.
“So, umm, what have you been up to?” he ask, gesturing to Remus’s hands.
“Oh,” Remus looks down at his hands in surprise, “weeding the veggie patch. Just needed to work off some aggression.”
Sirius nods.
“I know what you mean. I feel like there are knots in my stomach.”
Remus wrings his hands, “I’m so sorry, Padfoot. I never meant for this to happen!”
“Merlin, I hope not. I mean, if you had wanted kids that bad, we could have stolen one.”
Remus lifts an eyebrow, but the humor has not reached his eyes. “Oh, that’s a good idea. Kidnapping.”
Sirius squishes his face up and snorts, “Nah, we’d take one from the patch where they grow at.”
Remus turns slowly and waits for the punch line, when Sirius offers none, he speaks carefully. “Ugh, Padfoot, you do know that’s only a figure of speech. That’s not where babies come from.”
Sirius glares at Remus.
“So you say. For years I’ve been told that only girls have babies. Clearly,” he waves to his abdomen, “I have been lied to. I trust nothing these days.”
Remus sighs and then, tentatively, reaches out his hand toward Sirius’s waist. He raises an eyebrow at Sirius as if asking for permission. Sirius finds himself smiling.
“Kind freaky isn’t it?” Sirius asks when Remus finally rests his palm across Sirius’s middle.
“More than kind of,” Remus says with jest. His face turns contemplative and he looks down at his hand, “So, what are we going to do?”
Sirius takes a deep breath and holds it.
“Besides hoping that Prongs isn’t carrying a litter too?”
Remus grimaces, “This is way too complicated.”
“I guess,” Sirius begins, resting his hand overtop Remus’s, “we need to talk to your parents.”
Author: rev02a
Rating: PG
Warnings: More bad writing. Ah, it's so nice to get it out of my system.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine.
Prompt: gardening
Sirius meanders though the Potter’s garden humming to himself. There are some abnormally tall oaks on the east side of the house, surrounded by a six or seven foot tall brick fence. He wanders between the bricks and the trees with his self-created tune swinging on the wind beside him.
It’s hot. He’s hot. He tugs his t-shirt off over his head. It’s a bit tighter than its been before, but that’s probably because everyone keeps shoving food at him.
“You have to eat, Sirius!” they yell, glaring at him for his clear neglectful behavior as a pregnant parent.
He’s taken to it, to a degree. After all, he is a teenage boy and he burns through calories like Guy Fawkes dreamed of burning through Parliament. Maybe it's been the mass amount of chocolate cake Lily has fed him, but somehow in the space of 36 hours, he has come to terms with the fact that not only is he pregnant, but possibly twice over, and he’ll be giving birth in less than two weeks. Chocolate is rather soothing.
He is feeling smothered. He just wants to be away from people for a while, something that was easier said than done. In the end, it took him about an hour to escape from his room and from the house without being followed. In order to escape, Sirius had to get Lily started in on James about letting a pregnant man fall down a well, and distracting Peter with the August edition of Circe’s Magical Tits, and just avoiding Remus like the plague. Thankfully, the Potters left the house early in the morning with dreams of seeing a Southwestern Green-Speckled Grackle and have yet to return.
As he walks, he begins to fret.
How is he going to explain this to the Potters? Ugh, pardon me, Mr. Potter, but I think I need to go to St. Mungo’s. Yes, I am feeling poorly; I think I may be in labor. Well, yes, I do know that in order to be a boy and have babies I must have rubbed elbows with a werewolf. Lucky for all assembled, we all know who he is-and although this is a secret that I’m not supposed to tell anyone (yet, can’t seem to keep to myself), Remus just happens to be the daddy… er…the second one as he gets furry once a month.
None of this looks good for either boy. Sirius groans and rubs the back of his neck. What are they going to do? They’re too young for this! They don’t know what to do with a baby! …or six babies…
“Gah!” Sirius yells in frustration and, to his surprise, Remus leans around a nearby tree.
“You startled me,” he says and Sirius tenses.
“Ugh, sorry,” he replies.
Nothing has really been the same with the two of them since that whole Willow Thing and now, it seems, the odds that this situation will improve does not seem likely. Remus looks apprehensively around, as if seeing who has chosen to escort Sirius. When he sees no one, he pats the spot on the grass next to him. Sirius pauses and then sits down next to him.
Once there, he sees that there is dirt packed under Remus’s fingernails.
“So, umm, what have you been up to?” he ask, gesturing to Remus’s hands.
“Oh,” Remus looks down at his hands in surprise, “weeding the veggie patch. Just needed to work off some aggression.”
Sirius nods.
“I know what you mean. I feel like there are knots in my stomach.”
Remus wrings his hands, “I’m so sorry, Padfoot. I never meant for this to happen!”
“Merlin, I hope not. I mean, if you had wanted kids that bad, we could have stolen one.”
Remus lifts an eyebrow, but the humor has not reached his eyes. “Oh, that’s a good idea. Kidnapping.”
Sirius squishes his face up and snorts, “Nah, we’d take one from the patch where they grow at.”
Remus turns slowly and waits for the punch line, when Sirius offers none, he speaks carefully. “Ugh, Padfoot, you do know that’s only a figure of speech. That’s not where babies come from.”
Sirius glares at Remus.
“So you say. For years I’ve been told that only girls have babies. Clearly,” he waves to his abdomen, “I have been lied to. I trust nothing these days.”
Remus sighs and then, tentatively, reaches out his hand toward Sirius’s waist. He raises an eyebrow at Sirius as if asking for permission. Sirius finds himself smiling.
“Kind freaky isn’t it?” Sirius asks when Remus finally rests his palm across Sirius’s middle.
“More than kind of,” Remus says with jest. His face turns contemplative and he looks down at his hand, “So, what are we going to do?”
Sirius takes a deep breath and holds it.
“Besides hoping that Prongs isn’t carrying a litter too?”
Remus grimaces, “This is way too complicated.”
“I guess,” Sirius begins, resting his hand overtop Remus’s, “we need to talk to your parents.”