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All was quiet at Lupin Cottage save for the faint sound of the running tap coming from down the hall, and the relentless buzzing of Remus's brain. One would think after having had his fill of stuffing and Christmas pudding, the war would be far from his mind, but alas this was not the case. That didn't mean it hadn’t been a lovely day. It had been. In fact, it had been one of Remus's better days as of late. Worries just tend to have an odd sort of way of creeping up when we least expect them to.
Having just finished dinner, they had retired to the living room. Lyall stood next to the stone hearth, stoking the fire and humming merrily along with the wireless. Outside, the wind howled, rattling the cottage shutters and rustling the trees. Come tomorrow, there would be a thick blanket of snow on the ground. Sirius would likely have everyone out playing in it by noon.
Remus smiled at the thought. He was glad they had taken his parents up on the offer to stay during the holidays. Wales was a welcoming change from the flurry of London. He wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up staying until Boxing Day, maybe through the weekend as well. He was fairly certain it wouldn’t be hard convincing Sirius to agree on extending their stay. Only hours earlier, he'd been going on about how he would like to settle down somewhere along the countryside. After the war, of course. The blasted words went without saying. They had quickly become somewhat of a mantra in their lives, spoken after whispered promises in the night or offhanded comments about the future.
Yes, a few days away would do them both some good. There was something about being here in the sleepy, little village that made it easy to forget about the bloody war.
“Hmm, favorite Christmas… favorite Christmas,” Sirius mused before taking a sip from his mug. “I’ll have to think about that one."
It was a familiar scene, one that had played out many times before - Sirius and Hope on the worn sofa, chatting tirelessly away, while Lyall and Remus looked on fondly, chiming in whenever they could get a word in edgewise.
Sirius mulled over Hope’s question for a beat longer. “Do you remember that one Christmas, where we all stayed at Hogwarts?” he asked Remus.
Remus, who was mid-sip in his mulled wine, nodded. "We charmed the suits of armor to sing Christmas carols. Dumbledore thought it was brilliant. Liked it so much he had them charmed every year after that.”
“McGonagall wasn’t too pleased."
“Yes, well, the lyrics did become a bit, err, off-color.”
"Hmm. You know, if I recall, I believe that was your idea. You and James spent the entire night trying to come up with the lines. And I'm pretty sure it was you who thought it’d be funny if the suits suddenly yelled the words whenever someone passed by. Gave poor Professor Meriwether a fright with that hippogriff one." Sirius tutted. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Moony. Being a prefect and all.”
Lyall gave a snort as he made his way to the kitchen.
Remus brought his mug to his lips, feigning innocence. “That doesn’t sound like me. You sure that wasn’t one of your ideas, Pads?”
Sirius narrowed his eyes. “You keep playing that innocent card, but you and I both know when it came to our schemes, you were the brains of the operation. You have a knack for turning a good plan into a brilliant one. Honestly, it really is something to behold. The way that big, Moony brain of yours works.” Sirius turned towards Remus's mother. "Now Hope, I know he’s your son. Your baby boy. Your pride and joy. Light of your life. Apple of your eye–“
“I'm dating a nutter,” Remus muttered, eliciting a giggle from Hope.
Sirius ignored him, continuing, “You and Lyall are great parents, so don’t go blaming yourselves. I know you probably thought you had raised a respectable young man, so it pains me to have to tell you this but your son is actually the greatest mischief-maker Hogwarts has ever seen.”
Remus let out a disbelieving snort.
“I’m just stating facts here, Remus."
Remus gave him a pointed look. "Oh, come on. If anyone deserves that title, it's you and James! I lost count the number of detentions you two had."
"Hope, your son also happens to be the world's biggest liar. It was his ideas that got me there. Well that and getting caught in a broom cupboard one too many times,” Sirius added, sending a wink Remus's way.
Remus blushed. "Sirius!"
"What? It's true!"
Hope laughed. "I can’t say I blame you, sweetheart. If I had a handsome boy like Sirius in school, I'd have found myself in a broom cupboard or two."
"Mum!"
"What I can't seem to understand, is of all places, why a broom cupboard?" Lyall asked, carrying two plates of his wife's mince pies. He handed one plate to Sirius and sat down with the other. "Didn't I tell you about a few passageways that were better suited for – hm, how should I put this – canoodling?"
Sirius snorted. "Canoodling."
Remus's eyes widened in horror. "We are not talking about this."
A short, awkward beat passed, then:
"I think I have to agree with you, dear," Hope said, an impish look in her eye. "The title should go to Remus, seeing as great mischief makers don't make a habit out of getting caught."
Remus chuckled, and Hope shot him a wink. His mother enjoyed teasing Sirius about as much he did, and though he'd never admit to it, Remus knew Sirius quite enjoyed it as well.
Sirius, having just taken a bite of pie, choked and fell into a coughing fit. "You know, you’re about as bad as Remus."
"Honestly, Sirius, who do you think he learned it from? Kept me on my toes, these two," Lyall said, popping a pie into his mouth.
Hope rolled her eyes.
“That's a bit unfair, don't you think? We were never that bad," Remus said.
“You once dyed my hair," Lyall countered.
Remus blinked. "It wasn’t permanent. It washed right out."
Lyall snorted, taking the last pie. He sent the empty plate flying to the kitchen. "Yes, but you also didn't think to mention it before I headed into town. Here I was, turning heads and starting to feel quite nice about myself when Mrs. Parry comes over and informs me my hair is blue. You've never seen someone deflate as quickly the way I did."
"The color really did suit you nicely, Dad."
Lyall gave Remus a look, who in turn smiled. Lyall laughed. "We did make a funny pair, eh?"
"We?" Sirius asked, intrigued.
"Well, I couldn't let Remus have all the fun, could I?" Lyall said, standing up to add another log to the fire.
Sirius's eyes widened, his face breaking into a grin. "Oh?"
Remus rolled his eyes. "Dad thought he'd be clever and transfigure my hair as well. A bit unoriginal if you ask me."
"Nobody did," Sirius teased, earning him a two-fingered salute.
"Remus John!"
"Sorry, Mum," Remus murmured, having the grace to appear somewhat sheepish.
Sirius smirked. "So," he said, turning his attention back to Lyall, "You transfiged Remus's hair?"
"He looked like a mini Albus once I was done with him – beard and all. Hair was dragging the floor once it finally stopped growing."
"I think you're forgetting an important detail," Remus chimed in.
Lyall cocked his head to the side, giving Remus a puzzled look. "I can't say I know what you mean, son.”
"Really? Nothing comes to mind? Not even, oh I don't know, maybe that it took an entire week for the spell to wear off."
Sirius snorted into his mug, sending a mist of cocoa into the air. "I'm sorry, a week?"
"I’m still not entirely sure what happened," Lyall said with a slight grin. "It was a simple hair growth and color changing charm. I honestly didn’t expect the effects to last so long. Luckily, they weren't permanent, and your hair did eventually return to normal."
"Yeah, a whole week later," Remus muttered before taking a drink.
"You should've seen him. He made such a sweet, old man," Hope told Sirius before turning her attention over to her son. "You really ought to think about growing a beard, sweetheart. You'd look so handsome.”
Sirius considered Remus carefully, then nodded his agreement. “You know, you would look good with a beard. It'd complete the distinguished Professor look you have going on" he said, earning him a look from Remus.
"He was such a little thing back then,” Hope said, smiling fondly to herself. “Always helpful and kind, our Remus. A little mischievous at times, but what child isn’t? And he came by it honest." She laughed. “The blue hair dye was my idea.”
Remus couldn’t help but laugh at Sirius’s surprise. He placed his now empty mug on the table next to him and curled his legs up into the chair.
"You know, I think we have pictures of it somewhere. Wouldn't you think, Lyall?" Hope asked.
Lyall nodded in agreement. "We should.” He nodded his head towards the hall. "They're likely in the cupboard along with the baby albums," he replied, causing Sirius's eyes to light up.
Seeing where this conversation was headed, Remus quickly changed the subject. “So, Pads, that was your favorite Christmas? The year we charmed the suits to sing carols?"
Sirius narrowed his eyes and gave Remus a knowing smile. Still, he chose to play along. "No, you're right. Definitely not best Christmas material."
"I never said–"
"In my top five, though."
"You have a top five list of favorite Christmases?" Remus asked, amused.
"'Course," Sirius replied. "It’s rather hard picking just one when they’ve all been so grand."
Remus smirked, clearly noting the sarcasm in his voice. "Okay, but if you had to pick just one, what would it be?"
Sirius hummed in thought, his gaze drifting towards the ceiling. "There was one Christmas at Grimmauld," he started, causing Remus's brows to furrow. "My cousin, Bellatrix, left a huge scorch mark right in the middle of my mother's dining room table." Sirius barked out a laugh. "If you could have seen her face." He brought both hands to the sides of his face and put on a shrill voice, "That table has been in the Black family for centuries!" Switching to a much higher pitch, "Walburga, dear, I - I'm terribly sorry. I’m not sure what happened. – You stupid girl, you've blasted the Black Crest right off!"
Sirius was putting on quite the show causing Remus to believe there had been something besides cocoa in his drink. He eyed his father suspiciously and wondered if the two had already started on the bottle of Ogden's Firewhisky he and Sirius had brought.
"Have to say, it was one of the few entertaining Christmases spent with my family. Dinner and a show," Sirius said brightly.
Remus stared at Sirius, frowning. "Please tell me this isn’t your favorite Christmas."
Sirius snorted. "Merlin’s beard, no. But it makes for a great story."
Hope stared at him, brow creased with concern. "What was your cousin doing to scorch a table?"
"Trying to hex our house elf, Kreacher." Upon seeing Hope's shock, he nodded his agreement. “Yeah, holidays with the Blacks never were a joyous affair. They were more so tolerated than celebrated. I was seventeen when I decorated my first Christmas tree."
"Your mother didn’t let you help her decorate?” Hope asked, fixing him with a sad look.
Sirius shook his head. "No, nothing like that. My mother couldn't be bothered with decorating. She always had Kreacher do it. You see, in the Black family, holidays are the perfect time to one up each other. So, the house had to be perfect. Couldn't have little hands buggering it up." He rolled his eyes and took a drink. "Anyway, once Effie got wind of it, she was bound and determined to give me a proper Christmas."
Remus smiled as Sirius went on to tell the Lupins about his first Christmas as part of the Potter clan. Thank Merlin Sirius had the Potters. Remus's only wish was that he had had more time with them. Their sudden death this past autumn had been hard on Sirius. He missed them dearly.
“I don't think James, or I have ever made that much gingerbread in our lives, or eaten for that matter." Sirius laughed, adding, “I guess I have Effie to thank for my festive nature. Every Christmas I go overboard on the decorating and the baking. Ask Remus, he'll tell you.”
Remus, hearing his name, looked up from his thoughts and nodded. “It's true. It looks like a department store exploded in our flat.”
“You can never have too much Christmas cheer,” Sirius pointed out.
“Yes, but does it belong in the bathroom?”
Sirius smirked, giving Remus a knowing look. “You love it.”
Remus couldn't deny his claim. Their over-the-top, festive bathroom was beginning to grow on him. He found it to be rather nice showering to the Christmas classics Sirius had charmed their mirror to croon. If he happened to sing along to "Blue Christmas"... well, he'd deny ever doing such a thing.
He smiled coyly and shrugged his shoulders in a way to indicate that yes, maybe he did enjoy a bit of Christmas cheer while using the loo.
"Remus, I wished you’d said something,” Hope said, frowning. “If I'd known you enjoyed decorating so much, Sirius, we could've saved the tree until you two arrived.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Sirius said quickly. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to go to any trouble.”
Hope waved him off. "Nonsense, we'd have loved the help. And I'm sure Lyall would’ve enjoyed the company when he went to go chop down the tree."
Sirius’s eyes lit up. “You chop down your own tree?” he asked, sounding genuinely amazed.
Hope laughed, nodding. “Of course, it's one of many Lupin traditions. We've had a real tree ever since Remus was a little boy.”
“How come we’ve never chopped down a tree?” Sirius asked Remus disappointedly.
Remus gave him a quizzical look. “Where exactly would we have gone?” he asked, amused. Then, realizing it was Sirius he was talking to, he added, “And don’t suggest a park. I’d prefer not getting arrested for defacing public property.”
“Well, I’m not suggesting we do it in broad daylight. We’ll pop on over and be out before anyone notices a tree has gone missing.”
“We don’t even own an axe.”
Sirius raised a brow. “Are you not a wizard?”
“Again, I prefer not being arrested. I doubt the Ministry would be okay with us breaking the Statute of Secrecy just so we can have a real Christmas tree.”
“No Christmas spirit at all with this one,” Sirius teased.
“There is nothing wrong with our tree,” Remus defended.
“It's plastic!”
Remus rolled his eyes fondly. “You could always go out a buy a real one.”
Sirius sighed dramatically. “It's not the same. I need the full experience.”
“You and I can always chop down a tree,” Lyall suggested.
“Really?” Sirius asked.
Lyall chuckled. “Well, we can't have you spending Christmas in a jail cell, now can we?”
Sirius's face broke into a huge smile. “Can I be the one to chop it down? I've never used an axe, but it can't be that hard. I mean, I've seen it done on the telly,” he explained, going on to tell Lyall all about his knowledge of tree chopping, which to be honest, was minimum at best.
Remus caught his mother’s eye which gleamed with amusement. He shook his head, chuckling to himself.
“Alright, I’m holding you to your promise, Lyall. Next Christmas, you're letting me chop down the tree." Sirius flashed Remus an excited smile.
Remus returned it, but he suddenly felt a sense of unease settle in his stomach. It had been an innocent comment, but something about those two words "next Christmas" didn't set right with him. It was an odd feeling. One he couldn't quite put his finger on. What was it about next Christmas that unsettled him? And then the realization hit him like a rogue bludger. What if there wasn’t a next Christmas, at least not in the same sense as this one. With no end in sight to the war and bad news arriving nearly every week, the future looked rather bleak. Nothing was certain, certainly not their Christmas plans a year from now. He was surprised they all had made it to see this one. If he were being completely honest, there had been many times when he wasn't sure they would. Could they be so lucky to see another?
And thus, hours later, the thought still plagued his mind.
The shower knob squeaked, and the water stopped. There was a bit of shuffling about accompanied by the sound of footsteps in the hall. Seconds later, Sirius emerged wearing a Caerphilly Catapults shirt and red flannel pajama bottoms. Padding across the wooden floorboards, he lifted the covers and climbed into bed. He laid his head on Remus's chest, his black hair fanned out around him, smelling of his posh shampoo. Remus began carding his fingers through the tousled strands.
Sirius snuggled in closer, wrapping an arm around the other's waist. “Today was pretty great."
Remus hummed vaguely in agreement.
“Your mum’s cooking was brilliant, as always. Can't believe your dad and I finished off all her pies. I'll have to run around as Padfoot if I want to fit into my trousers," Sirius huffed a laugh, pressing his cold feet against Remus. He had expected a soft hiss, followed by some grumbling on Remus's end, but Remus didn't say anything. He hadn't even made his usual remark about how Sirius really should consider wearing socks to bed. It was almost as if he didn't mind being used as a human furnace, but experience told Sirius that definitely wasn't the case. No, it was more like Remus hadn't even noticed, which was odd.
"You should ask your mum to give you a few pointers," Sirius continued, his foot rubbing against Remus's ankle, who still seemed unfazed. "Be nice to have something besides takeaway for a change.”
Remus made another noncommittal sound, continuing to massage Sirius’s scalp.
“Then again, might be best if she teaches me. Don’t want another kitchen incident, hmm?” Sirius teased, poking Remus playfully in the side. He chuckled. "It’s a good thing Lily was able to regrow your eyebrows."
"Mhmm."
Sirius felt a knot of worry settle in his stomach. He turned his head, giving Remus a careful look. “Are you okay?"
Remus hummed in question before looking down and seeing Sirius’s concerned face. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” Sirius made a vague noise of disbelief. “Really, Pads, it's nothing. I'm good. Just tired is all,” Remus assured, forcing on a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.
Sirius gave him a knowing look. “Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he surmised, sitting up in bed, his shoulder brushing against Remus. “You seemed a bit distant tonight." He waited a beat, then added, "Was it something I said? I know I tend to joke more than I should. It's a curse really, never knowing when to quit.” He let out a nervous laugh and brought a hand through his hair. “If I said something–"
Remus shook his head, cutting Sirius off from his rambling. “It wasn't anything you said."
"Yeah?” Sirius asked. Remus gave an affirming nod. "Okay. Good."
There were a few beats of silence. Remus felt Sirius's eyes on him but couldn't make himself meet them. He knew he'd likely find himself spilling all his misplaced worries and fears the second he looked into those grey eyes. And honestly, what good would that do either of them? Today really had been great. He wasn't about to ruin it with his silly thoughts.
Several moments passed with neither of them saying anything until Sirius finally spoke up, breaking the silence. "Whatever is bothering you, Moons, you know you can always tell me."
It was the gentleness in his voice that broke through Remus's resolve. He let out a long, tired sigh and pulled his legs up to his chest.
“I’m being silly,” he said as a last-ditch effort to silence the matter.
Sirius nudged his shoulder, giving him a small smile that seemed to say go on.
Remus sighed again. He looked down and began picking at the loose threads of the quilt his mother had made for him many years ago. "Earlier, when you and Dad were talking about next Christmas, I guess it got me thinking about the future."
“What do you mean?" Sirius asked when Remus didn’t elaborate.
"Everything is just so... uncertain," Remus said in a voice slightly above a whisper. He pulled at a loose thread, snapping it in two. "We don't know what will happen next week let alone next year."
Sirius tucked his hair behind his ear. "I mean life is rather unpredictable that way, don't you think?" When he didn't get an answer, he added, "I know I probably shouldn't have went and made Christmas plans with your parents, but I’m sure they’ll understand if our plans change.”
Remus gave him a pointed stare.
"What?"
Remus rolled his eyes and turned away, staring voidly at the window across the room. Outside, small flakes continued to fall. The winds from earlier had died down, leaving a calm in its wake, but the atmosphere brewing inside was anything but. Remus sighed. He suddenly felt very tired. Perhaps he shouldn't have said anything. Their talks of war never ended well. Why should he think this time be any different?
“You're deflecting,” he finally said irritably.
"No, I'm not."
Remus turned his head towards Sirius, frowning. Sirius huffed. "Fine, so I am. What of it?”
“What of it?” Remus repeated, his anger building. “What of it is that I was foolish in thinking you actually cared about what was bothering me.”
Sirius scoffed. “Oh, come on, seriously?” Remus shrugged, and Sirius narrowed his eyes. “You know that’s not true.”
“Isn't it? Anytime I try to voice my concerns about the war you immediately shut down. You never want to talk about it.”
“Because it always turns into a bloody fight!”
Remus huffed a laugh. “Funny how that always seems to happen."
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Anytime things get a little too real, you shut down or change the subject like you were trying to do earlier,” Remus snipped. “I can’t talk to you. You either walk away or we end up fighting like we are now. I’d have thought of all people, you could at least talk to me, but it's like you can't ever be vulnerable.”
Sirius's eyes turned hard. "Wow. Okay, Remus.” All the fight seemed to have drained out of him. Crossing his arms over his chest, Sirius turned his head towards the door, away from him.
Immediately, a sick knot of shame formed in the pit of Remus’s stomach. That was a shit thing to say. He knew it was before he said it, and yet he said it anyway.
God, what was he doing? It was Christmas. Did he really want to spend it fighting?
“Sirius, I'm sorry. That was out of line. I shouldn't have said it.”
Sirius gave a sad laugh. “You meant it, though.”
The knot twisted tighter. Remus's left hand shot out, grabbing hold of Sirius's shoulder. He turned his head towards Remus, his grey eyes piercing in the dark. “I didn't mean it,” Remus said, staring back just as earnestly. “I'm just frustrated and tired. Which I know isn't an excuse," he quickly added. "That was unfair of me to say. I'm sorry.”
Sirius closed his eyes and slowly exhaled before meeting Remus's gaze, his expression unreadable. “I know,” he said after a moment, his eyes softening. “I'm sorry too. I was being an arse.”
Remus gave a small smile. “You've been known to do that from time to time."
A laugh escaped Sirius. “And yet, you still put up with me. You must really love me.”
Remus scrunched his nose in mock consideration. “Jury's still out on that one."
Sirius shook his head; a smile tugged at his lips. “You’re such a shit.”
Silence fell between them. Neither seemed to know what to say. Say the wrong thing and it could end up being a very long night. It was why most of their arguments led to sex.
Sirius cast a quick glance at Remus. He was back to fiddling with the quilt. After ten years of learning the many faces of Remus Lupin, Sirius knew he was still upset. Guilt suddenly crept in. He really was an arse. The absolute biggest tosser there was.
Sirius took Remus’s hand in his before he could wear a hole in the quilt. Remus looked up at Sirius, a small frown creased his forehead. “Re, I–" Sirius began, unsure of what to say. His eyes searched Remus's.
“It’s fine."
“It really isn't," Sirius insisted. He leaned his head back against the headboard and let out a frustrated groan. “I didn't want to fight tonight. It seems that's all we do now.”
Remus sighed. “I know.” He leaned his head back as well. “I mean we've always been a bit hot-headed -“
“Eh, I wouldn't say that. We're just passionate is all."
'Well, passionate or whatever, the point is, being in a middle of a war doesn't help.”
Sirius huffed, giving a swift kick to the sheets. “This fucking war. I hate thinking about it.”
“Sometimes it's all I can think about,” Remus admitted. “Earlier, all I could think about was what if this happens to be our last Christmas together.”
A sad, pained look passed over Sirius's face. “Don't say that.”
“Sorry, it's just... the thought is always right there,” Remus said, waving a hand towards his head. “I keep telling myself we’re going to be okay. That I’m worrying for no reason, but then I think about everyone we've lost. The Prewetts, Benjy, Caradoc. They murdered Marlene and her entire family.” Remus shut his eyes, sucking in a breath. "I can't lose you. Any of you."
Sirius wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. “Remus,” he said softly, brushing Remus's fringe from his face. “Hey, no, look at me. We’re going to get through this. I promise you. We're going to be okay."
“How can you be so sure? We’re not exactly winning the war, Pads.”
"No, but we're not losing either."
Remus gave Sirius a baffled look, letting out a small watery laugh. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Sirius smiled painfully and shrugged. “I guess not.”
Remus let out a tired sigh, resting his head on Sirius’s shoulder. "What are we going to do?"
"I don’t know. What we have been?" Sirius lay his head on Remus's, carding his fingers through his sandy curls. "Just have to keep fighting. Be there for one another. We can't afford to lose hope. They'll win if we do."
Remus hummed into Sirius’s shoulder. The two remained silent for a little while.
Outside the window, the waning Moon could be seen, its light reflecting off the snow. Remus was reminded of late winter nights spent scheming in their dorm room. Gone were the days of being reckless boys, roaming the castle and causing mischief. How he longed for those simpler times.
“Moony?”
“Hmm?”
“Where'd you go to, love?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking about when we were back in school,” Remus said softly.
Sirius gave a small, knowing smile. He leaned down and kissed Remus on the forehead. “No more war talk,” Sirius murmured against his forehead before pulling away to look at Remus. “It's Christmas. I can't remember the last time we spent together without any distractions. So, I'm suggesting that for tonight - No, for the rest of our stay, let's pretend the war doesn't exist. It’s just you and me.”
Remus was quiet for a moment, mulling over Sirius’s words. “What about Mum and Dad?”
Sirius tilted his head questioningly. “What about them?”
“Well, we are staying with them. Don’t you think it'd be rude if we pretended they didn't exist?”
Sirius hummed in thought. “I see your point,” he said, nodding. “Okay, new plan. You, me, your parents. Christmas. No war.” He emphasized each point with a playful poke to Remus's side, causing him to squirm.
“Stop that,” Remus laughed, swatting Sirius's hand away.
Sirius raised his hand in surrender, grinning. “So, do we have a deal?”
Remus considered this. “Okay, but I have a few questions.”
“Shoot.”
“Okay, you said it's just me, you, my parents, but what about Lily, James, and Harry? I know we aren't spending Christmas with them, but even so, they still exist in this scenario, right?"
“Of course,” Sirius assured him, then sensing Remus’s next question, added, “Pete too.”
Remus nodded. “Okay, but what about Elton John?"
Sirius raised a brow, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What about him?”
"It’s just Mum loves Elton. She’d be really upset if he didn't exist."
Sirius's smile turned fond. “Well, we can't have that, now can we?”
Remus hummed thoughtfully. "Okay, you can take your time answering this next question, but I have to know,” he said in a tone that implied he was about to ask something very important. “Do the Bee Gees still exist?”
Sirius's attentive expression turned deadpanned. “Absolutely not,” he said, fighting a smile.
“What? Why not?”
"Remus, it's 1980. Disco is dead.”
"James likes them. And they aren't just a Disco band,” Remus argued, defiantly crossing his arms over his chest.
“James likes The Belby Brothers,” Sirius laughed. “The man’s taste in music is shit.”
Remus shrugged his shoulders. “You can’t expect us all to be as cool as you.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Lupin." Remus raised a pointed brow. "Fine, if you insist, I guess the Bee Gees can stay. But only because you do a brilliant rendition of "Tragedy"."
Remus groaned. "You’re never going to let me forget that are you?"
"Never,” Sirius agreed, grinning. “You put on a hell of a performance. James is expecting something equally as brilliant this year. You better start practicing if you plan to top it."
Remus laughed. “You’ll have to get me good and drunk first."
"Hmm, there should still be a bit of Firewhisky left downstairs. That is, unless your dad drank the last of it."
Remus gave Sirius a pointed look. "I knew you two opened it."
Sirius returned it. “You knew nothing.”
“I mean, it is you we're talking about."
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Sirius asked, leaning closer into Remus.
“You have no self control.”
Sirius huffed. "Says the man who got so drunk at James’s twentieth birthday he serenaded the entire club."
"Only because Pete kept buying me shots! You know how I am when drinking tequila.”
"Oh believe me, love, that entire club knows how you are. One moment you’re fetching us drinks and the next you’re on top of a table.”
Remus’s cheeks reddened a little. “I still don’t know what compelled me to do that."
Sirius smirked. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say all the pints you had were partly to blame. I ought to thank that barman." Sirius then gave Remus a look that usually meant he was about to do something stupid.
Before Remus could ask what that something may be, Sirius brought a hand up to his mouth mimicking a microphone. “Here I lie in a lost and lonely part of town,” he started singing.
Remus fixed him with an unimpressed stare. He should have expected that. “No, stop that!"
“Held in time in a world of tears I slowly drown,” Sirius continued, wriggling closer to Remus.
“You're ridiculous,” Remus sighed, amused despite himself.
"Goin' home. I just can't make it all alone. I really should be holding you. Holding you. Loving you, loving yooouu. Tragemmpph–"
Remus surged forward, capturing Sirius's mouth with his own, mostly to put a stop to his off tune singing. "For being such a Bee Gees critic, you sure do know the lyrics," he said a moment later having broken away for air.
“I ought to,” Sirius said haughtily. “I’ve only heard it about a million times. For awhile there, you couldn't walk into a club without hearing it.”
Remus smirked. “Don't worry, Mr. I only listen to rock and roll, your secret is safe with me."
Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know my taste in music has broadened over the years.”
“And it’s a good thing too. You nearly wore out my T. Rex record with how many times you played it.”
“Can you blame me? I grew up listening to classical and the rare Celestina Warbeck. Little eleven-year-old me couldn’t believe someone like Marc Bolan could exist.”
"And thus your love of all things muggle was born.”
“Causing my mother’s hatred of me to grow tenfold.”
Remus snorted. “Yeah, well, fuck her.”
Sirius’s eyes widened. “Steady on! That’s my mother you’re talking about."
Remus rolled his eyes. "You know, the first time Prongs listened to Bowie, he swore the man was a wizard."
“Mm, still does. Bit absurd, really. I mean, I doubt a wizard could create music as good as Bowie.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?” Remus asked, knowing full well the answer. Really, he just enjoyed riling Sirius up.
Sirius shrugged. “Most lack imagination. Suppose it’s due to being beat over the head with tradition like wearing robes or Hogwarts still being lit by bloody candles and torches. Most wizard music is shit – well, okay, maybe not all of it. I do like Acid Pop, and some of Rowena's stuff isn't bad. Rising Phoenix is brilliant, obviously. Anyway, point is, the WWN only seems to plays Celestina Warbeck and The Barnaby Crew. And why is that?"
"Can't go upsetting polite society," Remus parroted, having heard this spiel many times before."
Sirius pointed his index finger at him. "Exactly, mustn't upset their Pureblood listeners, more importantly, their donors. I mean, anyone with ears can tell you Warbeck is conventional at best. You Stole My Cauldron But You Can't Have My Heart – bleurgh – and don’t get me started on what The Prophet considers good literature.”
Remus's mouth quirked. “I take it you’re not a fan of the Amortentia series.”
“Eurgh, that drivel?” Sirius wrinkled his nose. “Do you remember the one about the werewolf? Believe it was called Moonlight Seduction or something.”
Remus remembered. Sirius had found it in a bookshop and had brought it home. He'd been so excited to learn that a werewolf was not only a main character in a story but also a love interest. His excitement had diminished with each page. Remus had later found the book stuffed in the bin.
“Not only was the story over the top, it was horribly inaccurate. Werewolves don’t have claws and they certainly aren’t furry with canine teeth. At least not when the moon isn't out."
Remus smiled. “Why don’t you write one? Seeing as you are an expert at seducing werewolves.”
Sirius slung an arm around Remus and gave him a squeeze. “Just one werewolf in particular,” he corrected, then laughed. “God, can you imagine me writing a book? It’d be bloody awful. Now you, on the other hand.”
Remus let out an amused breath. “Me?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it before.”
“You should. You’d be great at it."
"Eh, I don’t know. Maybe,” Remus said, leaning his head back against the headboard. “What would I even write about?”
“Why not write about your experience of being a werewolf - an autobiography of sorts. In the Life of Remus Lupin – It's a working title," Sirius argued at Remus's grimace. "But hey, if that doesn't strike your fancy, you could always write about me. I’m plenty interesting."
Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m afraid a Sirius Black tell-all will have to wait or any book for that matter. Though, now that you mention it, I do think I’d like to write a book someday, after the war.” The words tumbled out naturally. Remus froze, looking sheepish.
“Oi,” Sirius said, squeezing him playfully. “I thought we had a deal? Hmm?”
“Sorry." Remus smiled weakly. “Bit of a habit. Besides, it’s a steep ask - forgetting about the war. I can’t help thinking about it.”
"Well don't.”
"That's easier said than done. That’s like telling me to stop worrying. It can’t be done. It’s who I am. I over think, and I'm a compulsive worrier.”
Sirius gave him a sly smile. “You know, I can think of a few ways to distract you." Then, cupping Remus’s face, he pulled him close and pressed their lips together.
Remus responded to the kiss in kind, wrapping his arms around Sirius’s waist. Their tongues moved together unhurriedly, mapping what they already knew by heart. Remus was certain he would never grow tired of this. He hummed appreciatively. A smile formed between their lips. "Is shagging your answer to everything?"
Sirius pulled back just enough to give him a crooked grin. "Who said anything about shagging. Maybe I'm perfectly content on just kissing you.”
He pressed his lips against Remus's once more, bringing him into another languid kiss. Remus slid his hands down from Sirius’s waist to grip his arse. He gave it a quick squeeze and pulled Sirius up and over so he straddled him. He ran a hand through Sirius's hair and gave a slight tug, drawing a throaty noise out of him.
"But I could always be persuaded,” Sirius said, voice hoarse with want.
Remus raised a suggestive brow. "Is that so?"
"You tell me,” Sirius said, jutting his hips forward.
Remus hummed, low and contented. It had been too long since they'd had a moment like this, where there were no distractions, no need to rush. He pushed Sirius’s shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the side. His mouth ghosted over the lunar cycle tattoo on Sirius’s chest as he gently took a hard nipple between his teeth. The little noises Sirius made spurred him to continue licking and sucking wet kisses to his skin. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Sirius’s pajama bottoms and pants and tugged them both down just past his hips. Sirius took it from there, pulling them off and repositioning himself above Remus.
Sirius leaned forward to kiss him, sliding his tongue into his mouth. “You have far too many clothes on,” he panted between kisses. He pushed Remus flat on his back. Remus’s t-shirt quickly joined Sirius’s on the floor, and Sirius’s lips and hands were on him again.
“Fuck, Sirius..." Remus breathed heavily as Sirius stroked him through the thin fabric of his pants. “Sirius, my parents are right across the hall.”
"Considering they’re asleep, I doubt they’ll mind." Sirius kissed his way down Remus’s lean body. “Besides,” he said, sliding Remus’s pants off, "your parents love me.”
"Yes, but–" Remus moaned softly as Sirius took him into his mouth. "I - I don't think they’ll love being woken up to the sound of you shagging their son.”
Sirius's head popped up. "Hmm, fair point." And shot a silencing charm towards the door.
Sometime later, mind fuddled by sex and sleep, Remus half-registered strong arms pulling him close and lips pressed softly against his skin before sleep overtook him.
Sirius lay in bed tracing light strokes up and down Remus’s arm. He'd been awake for some time now, long after his breathing had evened out. It was likely the early hours of Christmas morning. Sirius lifted his head slightly to glance at the clock on Remus’s side of the bed and noted it was in fact nearing three in the morning. He really ought to try and get in a few hours of sleep, else he’d risk the chance of falling asleep on the Lupins later when opening presents. And yet, he remained awake, continuing to relish in the feel of Remus’s warm body next to his. Moments like this were becoming few and far between, what with their missions increasing and lasting longer.
The last mission Remus had gone out on had lasted nearly three weeks. Sirius thought back to the image of him stumbling into their flat: neck bruised, hair matted, blood seeping through his shirt. Sirius never did learn where he'd been. "Order business," Remus repeated each time he'd asked. Once his wounds were healed and the grime cleared away, Remus was out for the count, sleeping through the rest of the day and much of the next. Sirius had been beside himself with worry, constantly checking in on him as if afraid he'd be gone again if he looked away too long.
Feeling the familiar panic rising up in his chest, he let out a shaky breath and made an effort to still his pounding heart. He propped his head up on a bent arm and began rubbing a hand over Remus’s back.
“I know you’re scared. I’m scared too." Though Remus was sleeping, it was much easier admitting to these thoughts in the dark, and Remus, his captive audience, didn’t seem to mind.
"I know, I’m breaking our deal. But I just... I need you to know that you’re everything to me. If anything were to happen - I don’t know what I’d do. Likely go mad, I suppose. That or get myself killed." He let out a humorless laugh. “You have a way of reeling me back in before I go off the deep end. I’d be lost without you.”
He pulled Remus close to his chest, breathing him in and committing this moment to memory. “I love you, Remus. I hope you know that,” he finally whispered against his skin.
Leaning forward, he pressed a light kiss to Remus's head causing him to stir and let out a soft snore. Sirius smiled fondly. "Happy Christmas, love."
Trying to keep his thoughts of the war at bay, he laid his head back down, shut his eyes, and focused on Remus's breathing, a soothing rhythm which lulled him into a peaceful sleep.