the_debt_of_time

"I wanted this birthday to be a good one. You're all going to have your typical party
in the common room, meanwhile, I'll be stuck in the bloody shack," Remus muttered
bitterly, a growl escaping his throat.
"Bad luck that the full moon falls on our birthday." James frowned. "She'll
understand."
"I know, that's what makes it worse." Remus sighed. "I'll wake up the next morning
after not being around for her birthday, and instead of me doing something nice for her,
she's going to be in the hospital wing, holding my hand while Madam Pomfrey shoves
potions down my throat."
"Well, I know it goes against your instincts," James offered, "but maybe let her just
take care of you."
Remus snarled at the suggestion, and his eyes flashed gold.
"Easy, Moony," Sirius said, holding his transfigured paws up in supplication.
"Prongs is right. Girl's a caretaker, and you haven't let her do a single thing for you since
first year." He shrugged his shoulders, shaking the dirt out of his paws and watching as
they transformed back into hands easily. "Girls are all about the intimate stuff―"
James narrowed his eyes. "Watch it."
"Not that. Come on Prongs, look at Moony and tell me that he's having sex." Sirius
chuckled at the thought. "Obviously not. He looks like... like... like you." James threw a
rock at him that Sirius quickly dodged, then proceeded to bury. "I mean, girls like the little
moments where you let them in your head. Show the softer side and all that crap."
Remus scoffed. "And you know this from experience?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. I know this because every girl I've ever snogged or
shagged has complained about the fact that I don't do all of that mopey, vulnerable bullshit.
So do that, and you'll get along famously."
James eyed Remus carefully. "Not too famously."