![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
grandilloquism.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
small_giftsTitle: The Wanderer’s Guiding Star
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
grandilloquism
Recipient:mustntgetmy
Rating: G
Contents or warnings (highlight to view): *none *
Word count: 1028
Summary: Just some Christmas-y nostalgia and cuddles on a couch.
Notes: Dearmustntgetmy, please do enjoy this quiet Christmas fluff-angst, I hope you have a great holiday!
The bed was cold. Sirius blinked up at the cracked plaster ceiling and wondered when Remus had left. He curled onto his side and pressed his nose into the pillow, rubbing it slightly against the fabric. It smelled of shampoo and detergent and he felt a little pathetic. He made himself stop and sit up, curling his cold toes underneath him, and wrapped the blanket around him like a cloak. The pink-orange sodium light of the city came in through the bare windows, sunrise still hours off, and Sirius was as awake as he had ever been.
The floorboards against his bare feet made him shiver and he picked up his wand from the windowsill to cast a warming charm. It took the nip out of the air long enough for Sirius to pull on a jumper from the mostly clean pile of clothes on the floor.
It was a muggle flat, old and run down, but full of, as Sirius often insisted, character. It suited him, anyway, and if the heating broke in the winter and the air failed to circulate in the summer, well that’s what they had magic for, wasn’t it?
In the kitchen he boiled water and left the tea to steep on the counter while he got a fire going in the grate and laid down a few more warming charms. With the afghan draped over his legs it was practically cozy by the time he was settled down onto the sofa. There was, though, a sense of now what? as he blew on his tea.
He spared a thought for Christmases past— the stiff formality of Grimmauld Place juxtaposed almost comically against the easy cheer of a holiday spent at Hogwarts. Last year they had done the proper thing— Sirius had only just managed to convince Remus to move in with him and they had gone together to pick out a tree that was only slightly too tall for the flat, and James and Lily and Peter had come over with beer and takeaway and they had made a gleeful mess of the tinsel.
It wasn’t that they had ever sat down and made a decision not to do The Christmas Thing this year, it was simply that they hadn’t ever sat down and decided to do it, either. And here it was, December the twenty-fourth, and Sirius was alone in their flat, scalding his tongue on tea and feeling a little mournful.
The Order would have a party, of course, and Lily and James had already made them promise to be over at theirs for Christmas dinner where, Sirius expected, the quality of the food might be dubious but there would be plenty of wine and presents to exchange and New Year’s plans to be made. It felt strange, though, looking around the jumbled mess of their flat, that for the fist time in his life there was no tree or tinsel or fairy lights.
He supposed there was time left, if he wanted to decorate. There were surely still trees to be found somewhere, and while he’d never been precisely good at any of those fiddly, decorative spells, he could probably pull it off. It wouldn’t feel the same though, he thought, sinking a little deeper into the couch cushions, sipping at his tea. It wouldn’t be right, without everyone around to help— Remus making hot chocolate in the kitchen and Lily singing off-key to the carols on the wireless, with James and Peter to reminisce with while they tried to figure out how to get the tree to stand straight. There wouldn’t really be a point to it, without everyone there to help.
He didn’t remember drifting off, but he must’ve, because the next thing he knew Remus had his hand on his shoulder and was shaking him awake. Judging by the light coming through the windows it was early afternoon, but Sirius felt muzzy and sleep addled.
“Sirius,” Remus chided, when Sirius lifted up his blanket, beckoning him in. “Have you slept all day?”
Sirius shook his head and, though Remus sighed, he climbed in next to Sirius under the blanket. The couch made for close quarters, but they shifted until they were comfortably curled up in one another, with Sirius’ cold nose buried in that lovely warm spot where Remus’ neck met his shoulder. He hummed happily.
“I think we forgot Christmas,” he said into Remus’ skin.
His hand came up to scritch pleasantly through Sirius’ hair. “I suppose we did. Were you wanting to do something?”
He smelled of cold and rain and laundry and soap, and it was very nice so Sirius burrowed a little closer, slinging a leg over one of Remus’ own and sliding a hand under his shirt, onto the warm, soft skin of his belly.
“This is nice,” he admitted. “We could do this.” It felt like they hardly got to spend any time together, but even Death Eaters had to stop for Christmas.
Remus turned his head, nosing into Sirius’ hair a little. “Just this?” he asked.
“It’s possible I could think of a few other things.”
“Oh, well that’s good. I don’t know what I’d do if you suddenly went boring on me in your old age.” Sirius’ birthday had been the week before, and he had yet to hear the end of the old man jokes.
“Laugh it up, Lupin,” Sirius said. “Enjoy the last three months of your teenager-dom, because come March you’ll have no room to talk.”
Remus huffed, his laughter warm against Sirius’ skin. “Somehow I think I’ll survive,” he said dryly.
Sirius pushed up a little to kiss him, and for a few sweet, warm moments, that was the circumference of his world— Remus’ body solid beneath him, his soft mouth and the slight scratch of his stubble from where he’d forgotten to shave. It was an utterly nice moment, and those were more frequently coming few and far between. “You better,” he said, when he drew back, more vehement than he had meant it to sound.
It made the corners of Remus’ eyes crinkle, though, so that was alright.
Author:
grandilloquismRecipient:
mustntgetmyRating: G
Contents or warnings (highlight to view): *none *
Word count: 1028
Summary: Just some Christmas-y nostalgia and cuddles on a couch.
Notes: Dear
mustntgetmy, please do enjoy this quiet Christmas fluff-angst, I hope you have a great holiday!The bed was cold. Sirius blinked up at the cracked plaster ceiling and wondered when Remus had left. He curled onto his side and pressed his nose into the pillow, rubbing it slightly against the fabric. It smelled of shampoo and detergent and he felt a little pathetic. He made himself stop and sit up, curling his cold toes underneath him, and wrapped the blanket around him like a cloak. The pink-orange sodium light of the city came in through the bare windows, sunrise still hours off, and Sirius was as awake as he had ever been.
The floorboards against his bare feet made him shiver and he picked up his wand from the windowsill to cast a warming charm. It took the nip out of the air long enough for Sirius to pull on a jumper from the mostly clean pile of clothes on the floor.
It was a muggle flat, old and run down, but full of, as Sirius often insisted, character. It suited him, anyway, and if the heating broke in the winter and the air failed to circulate in the summer, well that’s what they had magic for, wasn’t it?
In the kitchen he boiled water and left the tea to steep on the counter while he got a fire going in the grate and laid down a few more warming charms. With the afghan draped over his legs it was practically cozy by the time he was settled down onto the sofa. There was, though, a sense of now what? as he blew on his tea.
He spared a thought for Christmases past— the stiff formality of Grimmauld Place juxtaposed almost comically against the easy cheer of a holiday spent at Hogwarts. Last year they had done the proper thing— Sirius had only just managed to convince Remus to move in with him and they had gone together to pick out a tree that was only slightly too tall for the flat, and James and Lily and Peter had come over with beer and takeaway and they had made a gleeful mess of the tinsel.
It wasn’t that they had ever sat down and made a decision not to do The Christmas Thing this year, it was simply that they hadn’t ever sat down and decided to do it, either. And here it was, December the twenty-fourth, and Sirius was alone in their flat, scalding his tongue on tea and feeling a little mournful.
The Order would have a party, of course, and Lily and James had already made them promise to be over at theirs for Christmas dinner where, Sirius expected, the quality of the food might be dubious but there would be plenty of wine and presents to exchange and New Year’s plans to be made. It felt strange, though, looking around the jumbled mess of their flat, that for the fist time in his life there was no tree or tinsel or fairy lights.
He supposed there was time left, if he wanted to decorate. There were surely still trees to be found somewhere, and while he’d never been precisely good at any of those fiddly, decorative spells, he could probably pull it off. It wouldn’t feel the same though, he thought, sinking a little deeper into the couch cushions, sipping at his tea. It wouldn’t be right, without everyone around to help— Remus making hot chocolate in the kitchen and Lily singing off-key to the carols on the wireless, with James and Peter to reminisce with while they tried to figure out how to get the tree to stand straight. There wouldn’t really be a point to it, without everyone there to help.
He didn’t remember drifting off, but he must’ve, because the next thing he knew Remus had his hand on his shoulder and was shaking him awake. Judging by the light coming through the windows it was early afternoon, but Sirius felt muzzy and sleep addled.
“Sirius,” Remus chided, when Sirius lifted up his blanket, beckoning him in. “Have you slept all day?”
Sirius shook his head and, though Remus sighed, he climbed in next to Sirius under the blanket. The couch made for close quarters, but they shifted until they were comfortably curled up in one another, with Sirius’ cold nose buried in that lovely warm spot where Remus’ neck met his shoulder. He hummed happily.
“I think we forgot Christmas,” he said into Remus’ skin.
His hand came up to scritch pleasantly through Sirius’ hair. “I suppose we did. Were you wanting to do something?”
He smelled of cold and rain and laundry and soap, and it was very nice so Sirius burrowed a little closer, slinging a leg over one of Remus’ own and sliding a hand under his shirt, onto the warm, soft skin of his belly.
“This is nice,” he admitted. “We could do this.” It felt like they hardly got to spend any time together, but even Death Eaters had to stop for Christmas.
Remus turned his head, nosing into Sirius’ hair a little. “Just this?” he asked.
“It’s possible I could think of a few other things.”
“Oh, well that’s good. I don’t know what I’d do if you suddenly went boring on me in your old age.” Sirius’ birthday had been the week before, and he had yet to hear the end of the old man jokes.
“Laugh it up, Lupin,” Sirius said. “Enjoy the last three months of your teenager-dom, because come March you’ll have no room to talk.”
Remus huffed, his laughter warm against Sirius’ skin. “Somehow I think I’ll survive,” he said dryly.
Sirius pushed up a little to kiss him, and for a few sweet, warm moments, that was the circumference of his world— Remus’ body solid beneath him, his soft mouth and the slight scratch of his stubble from where he’d forgotten to shave. It was an utterly nice moment, and those were more frequently coming few and far between. “You better,” he said, when he drew back, more vehement than he had meant it to sound.
It made the corners of Remus’ eyes crinkle, though, so that was alright.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2013-12-05 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-06 10:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-05 06:06 pm (UTC)but even Death Eaters had to stop for Christmas And this is so innocent and so jaded at the same time, it's delightful.
no subject
Date: 2013-12-09 03:34 am (UTC)I love both the original line and your comment, P. That's the essence of 19 or 20 to me, right there, knowing and not knowing at the same time. M.
no subject
Date: 2013-12-10 05:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-05 10:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-06 03:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-06 03:31 am (UTC)I'm not kidding though when I say that I had to get up and turn the tea kettle on halfway through this because you made snuggling on the couch with a cup of tea sound like an absolutely wonderful idea.
no subject
Date: 2013-12-06 10:50 am (UTC)I love the many different emotions here, and the image of the two of them snuggling up together near the ending is absolutely lovely.
Gorgeous!
no subject
Date: 2013-12-06 06:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-06 11:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-08 05:06 am (UTC)Actually, everything about this story was rather lovely - and it was so well-written, too. You have a nice assurance to your writing, as if telling a familiar and beloved story and yet making it all feel new at the same time. The bed was cold. Sirius blinked up at the cracked plaster ceiling and wondered when Remus had left. He curled onto his side and pressed his nose into the pillow, rubbing it slightly against the fabric. It smelled of shampoo and detergent and he felt a little pathetic. He made himself stop and sit up, curling his cold toes underneath him, and wrapped the blanket around him like a cloak. The pink-orange sodium light of the city came in through the bare windows, sunrise still hours off, and Sirius was as awake as he had ever been. You had me from the very beginning there.
And the ending was super sweet, too.
no subject
Date: 2013-12-08 09:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-09 03:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-12 03:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-14 02:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-15 03:17 am (UTC)