Sirius came to to hazel eyes and nimble fingers pressed to his cheek.

“Can you hear me?”

Sirius blinked. The blue sky blurred into the trees, the sunlight coming through the gaps in the leaves looking soft and hazy as the sun began to set, but the eyes—the boy—leaning over Sirius was perfectly in focus. Sirius blinked again.

“Can you hear me? What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?”

It took Sirius a minute to find his voice, “I… Sirius.”

“Alright, Sirius.” the boy removed something from his head and it came away red, “You’re okay, it’s just a little blood. Can you sit up for me?”

Sirius heard himself let out a soft noise as he was suddenly being pressed against the boy’s chest, the radio strapped against it digging into his cheek, and propped against a cool concrete wall.

“‘m just warning you,” James’ voice came from somewhere, “He might hit on you. Especially in this state. He’s acting a bit like he does when he’s drunk.”

The boy briefly looked away from where he seemed to be studying Sirius’ pupils. Sirius let out another sound, to his slight embarrassment, at the lack of hazel eyes on him. The boy didn’t seem to take notice, instead flashing a somewhat sarcastic smile at James, “Cheers, mate.” The sunlight brought blondish streaks on in his sandy hair. Sirius wondered if he could stop the sun from setting in order to keep looking at the warm colors.

He frowned, “I…hit my head.”

The boy’s attention snapped back to him, his eyes focusing but the smile staying lopsided and in place, “That you did.” Warm fingers pressed under his jaw, turning his head sideways, “Does this hurt?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, smirking, feeling a bit like the world was spinning, “When you fell from heaven?”

James sighed, “Told you.”

The boy laughed lightly, “Not sure that’s how that line works. Tell me, does this hurt?”

“Eh…” Sirius’ mind spun a little, but he found that no, the motion didn’t hurt, “Nope.”

The fingers turned his head in the other direction, “And now?”

Sirius let out a noise, as the new view had allowed him to catch sight of his board. It was cracked clean down the middle, “Fuck.”

The boy let out another one of his light laughs and, for a moment, Sirius forgot the board, eyes moving back to hazel, “Forget about that for a moment, does it hurt?”

Sirius sighed, “Yeah. Yeah, a bit. ‘m shoulder sort of.”

The boy nodded, and Sirius let his eyes close when he pressed a warm palm to his neck, the other squeezing the junction between his shoulder and collar bone gently. Sirius let out a hiss, eyes flashing open.

“Yeah.” The boy nodded, “Just a sprain, don’t worry. Not gonna wanna move that for a few days though. I’d say light concussion too.”

“Fuck.” Sirius said again, and then looked at James, who had said it at the same time, “Sprained, mate. Sprained.”

The boy laughed, “Maybe not so light.” He jerked his head towards the road, and Sirius saw that an ambulance was stationed there, “C’mon, come sit in the back, just to be safe.”

Sirius groaned as the boy carefully hauled him to his feet. It was only then that he realized just how tall he was. Sirius’ head came up to his shoulders, and he looked lean and tan in his dark uniform. His jacket was mostly unzipped, but the collar was popped up, framing his jaw nicely. Sirius found himself leaning into him, until an unevenness in his steps made him look down.

“Oh. My shoe.” Sirius looked back up at the boy, who had stopped, eyes concerned like something more serious might be wrong, “’s gone.”

The boy rolled his eyes and held up his other hand. In it was Sirius’ missing red van, hole in the toe and all.

“Oh.” He looked up at him again, “Thanks.”

The boy gently started guiding Sirius in the direction of the ambulance again, “I wanna run some tests, alright? Just stuff I can’t do properly with all this sun. Then we’ll decide if I need to drive you in.”

He helped Sirius into the back of the ambulance, and set him with a huff on the small cot. Sirius watched him while he flipped open a med kit, rifling through it and pulling out various bandages and what looked like a small metal tube.

“Is this going to hurt?” Sirius started reaching for the metal thing, “Oh, a flashlight—“

The boy gently pushed his hands away, “No, this—stop touching—Sirius.”

“What’s this?” Sirius picked up what looked like a rubber band, one used for exercise. The boy snatched it back.

“Stop touching everything.” He looked pointedly at the cot which, as Sirius followed his gaze, turned out to have straps on it, “Don’t make me tie you to that.”

Sirius smirked, eyes finding the boy’s hazel ones again, “You can if you want. I don’t mind.”

The boy blinked, then his eyes widened and Sirius watched as a slight flush began to make its way up his neck and cheeks. He let out a soft laugh, the same one had had earlier, “God. Your friend was right, you are a flirt.”

“I like a boy in uniform.” Sirius smiled when the boy’s blush deepened, “Don’t mind those eyes of yours, either.”

The boy cleared his throat and shook his head, smirking. He leaned forward with the flashlight, holding his finger out for Sirius’ eyes to follow, “You don’t even know my name.”

Sirius blinked as the boy shut the flashlight off, “If you tell it to me I’ll let you strap me to the bed.”

“It’s not a bed.”

“The cot.”

“It’s a stretcher, really.”

“What’s your name?”

The boy pressed his lips together in what seemed to be against a smile, and leaned forward with a disinfectant cloth, dabbing it lightly to the small cut on Sirius’ forehead. Sirius’ eyes flickered around his face. He had freckles. His nose turned up at the end. He had a cupid’s bow, and a scar on his upper lip.

“Remus.” The boy sighed and leaned back, tossing the cloth into a waste basket before leaning forward and pressing a thin bandage to the cut, “It’s Remus. Let me get you a sling, okay? I don’t think you have to go to the hospital, so, you can go.”

Sirius scoffed, “Wh—that’s it?”

Remus raised an eyebrow at him, twisting around from searching in a plastic drawer to do it, “What’s it?”

Sirius raised his arms in exasperation then winced, letting them drop. He brought his hand up to hold his shoulder, “I offered to let you strap me to a bed!”

Remus turned back around, holding a white sling, “You have a concussion.”

“I—“ Sirius spluttered, “I am perfectly sound of mind.”

“Which,” Remus looped the strap of the sling around Sirius’ body, gently putting his arm into the dip of fabric and tightening it until it rested comfortably against his chest, “is why I’m letting you go.”

Sirius blinked, “Really?”

Remus just flashed him a smile, shrugging one shoulder while scribbling something on a clipboard, “Maybe sit on the sidelines for a bit, okay? Till you can raise your arm over your head. Try to stay away from screens.”

Sirius opened and closed his mouth a few times before gingerly stepping out of the cab of the truck, Remus jumping lightly down beside him. He gave a wave to James and one more smile to Sirius before jumping into the driver’s seat.

Sirius stood there, mouth slightly open, as he drove away. He felt James come up next to him, hands deep in his pockets, “What’s with the face?”

“I…” Sirius let out a breath, half disbelief, half laugh. He turned to James, “He completely blew me off. Just there, he just…left.”

James looked at him for a moment, eyebrows raised, before snorting.

Sirius shook his head, “What? What’s so funny?”

James just shook his head, kicking his board back to the ground, “Take a look at your sling, mate. You’re like a walking advertisement.”

Sirius looked down, neck craning to see the front of his sling. His chest tightened.

“Fuck.” A smile slowly forming on his face. There was black sharpie scribbled words there.

We’ll save the straps for another time, and maybe just start with this.

Below the messy scrawl, was a phone number.