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small_giftsTitle: (I’ll be) home for Christmas
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
glass_icarus
Written for:crooked
Rating: PG
Prompt: Three wishes were: 1) Scarves! Woolly hats & mittens okay, too; 2) First post-Hogwarts Christmas; 3) spiked eggnog.
Summary: Sirius pays Remus a holiday visit.
A/N: Happy holidays! It's been a while since I wrote these boys; I hope this isn't too sweet for your tastes. *g*
Standing at the doorway, Remus wraps his scarf more tightly against the wind, huddling into his coat. Its Gryffindor red-and-gold has faded now from long use, and even the darned patches on it are wearing thin, but he is reluctant to throw it out for the faint smell of boy-and-dog and dubiously-clean socks that has lingered in the wool for the better part of seven years. He checks his watch: Sirius is late, again.
Even as he rolls his eyes, the sound of a motorbike approaching catches his attention. “Oi! Moony!”
Waving both arms and grinning manically, Sirius manages to stop the bike in front of Remus without killing either of them, although their boots are liberally spattered with gritty slush by the end of the process.
“Sirius, honestly,” Remus sighs, pressing one hand against his chest to reassure himself that he hasn’t had a heart attack. “Don’t do that!”
Sirius wraps his arms around Remus’ waist, cheerfully disregarding his comments. “Hullo, Moony,” he grins, pushing his cold nose insistently into the gap between Remus’ scarf and his neck. Remus yelps and swats him.
“You’re late, you twat.”
Sirius pouts, batting his eyelashes somewhat ineffectively. “Sorry.”
“Yes, yes. Put your rattling death-trap somewhere safe, please, so we can go inside?”
“Hey! It does not rattle,” Sirius huffs, digging his fingers into Remus’ sides. “It flies.”
“Ah, but you don’t deny that it’s a death-trap?”
“Mooooooony.” Remus grins up at him unrepentantly, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed with the cold, and Sirius’ attempt at a glare withers and dies. Sighing, he flicks his wand toward his bike and tugs at Remus’ hand. “C’mon then, your fingers are cold.”
Moony’s flat is a lot smaller than he’d thought it would be, Sirius realizes when they step inside. It’s a two-room setup, just a living area with a kitchen corner and a bathroom, and an alcove of sorts for Remus’ bed. The walls are cracked, the paint on the door- and window-frames peeling, and the furniture looks second-hand, but everything is neat and clean, with the exception of Remus’ sagging bookshelves.
“I know you’re used to better,” Remus says pragmatically, noting his silent appraisal.
“No, no, it looks-” Like home, Sirius wants to say. Biting his lip, he kicks off his boots. “Lived-in. Comfortable.”
“You can say shabby, you know,” Remus says wryly, taking his coat. “I’ll just put the kettle on, shall I?”
“I meant what I said,” Sirius insists. “And I’ve got Mrs. Potter’s eggnog, so unless you’d rather tea-”
“Ah, brilliant.”
Sirius grins, taking the thermos from inside his sweater and pouring two mugs. Remus settles on the couch beside him, feet sliding between his ankles.
“Thanks, Padfoot.”
“Y’re welcome,” Sirius mumbles, taking a sip. The smoky flavor of the brandy burns through the sweetness, scorching his throat as he swallows.
Remus looks up at him through the steam curling from his cup. “So, why didn’t you stay at James’ for Christmas?”
“I-” Sirius frowns, at a loss for words. The Potters are his family now, as near as makes no difference, but how to explain the sudden feeling of distance, of absence? He shrugs, looking away.
“You know that James would never push you out,” Remus begins.
“It’s not that at all!” Sirius protests. “I just wanted to do something different this year. And I wanted to see you.”
Remus looks at him inscrutably, then down at his eggnog. Sirius squirms. It’s been half a year since he last tried to talk about seeing Remus, but it seems that some topics are still to be avoided. “What about you? Why aren’t you home with your parents?”
Remus sighs. “You know what the werewolf propaganda’s been like recently. I thought it was best to lay low for a while, so it would be harder for- unwanted visitors- to find me.”
“Is that why you didn’t come to James’?”
“Well, it was the second most likely place for me to be, wasn’t it?”
“You should’ve talked to us, Moony. We could have worked something out.”
Remus laughs. “We’re Marauders, Padfoot. We of all people ought to know that no safeguard’s entirely foolproof.”
Sirius frowns. “Still-”
“It’s okay, Pads.” No, it isn’t, Sirius thinks, but he’s never been able to win against Remus when he uses that voice, so he subsides.
Remus looks up, confused at the abrupt silence. Sirius is staring out the window trying to look nonchalant, but the little furrow in his brow gives him away.
“Hey.” Remus sets his mug down, drawing his knees up beneath his chin. “Something bothering you?”
“No.” But Sirius’ voice is small, uncertain.
“Padfoot. Tell me.”
“It’s nothing.”
Remus merely raises an eyebrow, waiting.
“I just- I wanted to see you, okay? I did. I missed you, idiot. And it’s awfully bloody hard to find you when you’re always running off on Dumbledore’s errands.”
Remus blinks, caught off-guard. “I’m not-”
“You are.” Sirius hunches down, digging his heels into the sofa. “Or at least you are whenever I’m looking for you. You’ve met with Peter and Lily and James at least once or twice.”
“Maybe, but I’m not running away from you, either.” Remus reaches out, lifting Sirius’ chin with a finger. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
Sirius presses against his hand with a sigh, smiling reluctantly. “Yeah, guess I am.”
“Daft dog,” Remus says affectionately. “You’re always welcome here, you know that.”
Sirius wriggles at the warmth in Moony’s voice, uncurling inside his chest. Flopping over, he pulls Remus down until they end up, laughing, in a pile of tangled limbs, curled improbably around each other. This, he thinks. This is what I wanted, what I hoped for. Well, except for one thing.
“Moony?”
“Yeah?”
“What if I wanted to stay, not just for Christmas?”
Remus rolls his eyes, his long-suffering look somewhat ruined by the quirk at the corner of his mouth. “Then stay.”
Outside, the night is falling, but inside, Sirius thinks, it feels like sunrise.
Author:
glass_icarusWritten for:
crookedRating: PG
Prompt: Three wishes were: 1) Scarves! Woolly hats & mittens okay, too; 2) First post-Hogwarts Christmas; 3) spiked eggnog.
Summary: Sirius pays Remus a holiday visit.
A/N: Happy holidays! It's been a while since I wrote these boys; I hope this isn't too sweet for your tastes. *g*
Standing at the doorway, Remus wraps his scarf more tightly against the wind, huddling into his coat. Its Gryffindor red-and-gold has faded now from long use, and even the darned patches on it are wearing thin, but he is reluctant to throw it out for the faint smell of boy-and-dog and dubiously-clean socks that has lingered in the wool for the better part of seven years. He checks his watch: Sirius is late, again.
Even as he rolls his eyes, the sound of a motorbike approaching catches his attention. “Oi! Moony!”
Waving both arms and grinning manically, Sirius manages to stop the bike in front of Remus without killing either of them, although their boots are liberally spattered with gritty slush by the end of the process.
“Sirius, honestly,” Remus sighs, pressing one hand against his chest to reassure himself that he hasn’t had a heart attack. “Don’t do that!”
Sirius wraps his arms around Remus’ waist, cheerfully disregarding his comments. “Hullo, Moony,” he grins, pushing his cold nose insistently into the gap between Remus’ scarf and his neck. Remus yelps and swats him.
“You’re late, you twat.”
Sirius pouts, batting his eyelashes somewhat ineffectively. “Sorry.”
“Yes, yes. Put your rattling death-trap somewhere safe, please, so we can go inside?”
“Hey! It does not rattle,” Sirius huffs, digging his fingers into Remus’ sides. “It flies.”
“Ah, but you don’t deny that it’s a death-trap?”
“Mooooooony.” Remus grins up at him unrepentantly, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed with the cold, and Sirius’ attempt at a glare withers and dies. Sighing, he flicks his wand toward his bike and tugs at Remus’ hand. “C’mon then, your fingers are cold.”
Moony’s flat is a lot smaller than he’d thought it would be, Sirius realizes when they step inside. It’s a two-room setup, just a living area with a kitchen corner and a bathroom, and an alcove of sorts for Remus’ bed. The walls are cracked, the paint on the door- and window-frames peeling, and the furniture looks second-hand, but everything is neat and clean, with the exception of Remus’ sagging bookshelves.
“I know you’re used to better,” Remus says pragmatically, noting his silent appraisal.
“No, no, it looks-” Like home, Sirius wants to say. Biting his lip, he kicks off his boots. “Lived-in. Comfortable.”
“You can say shabby, you know,” Remus says wryly, taking his coat. “I’ll just put the kettle on, shall I?”
“I meant what I said,” Sirius insists. “And I’ve got Mrs. Potter’s eggnog, so unless you’d rather tea-”
“Ah, brilliant.”
Sirius grins, taking the thermos from inside his sweater and pouring two mugs. Remus settles on the couch beside him, feet sliding between his ankles.
“Thanks, Padfoot.”
“Y’re welcome,” Sirius mumbles, taking a sip. The smoky flavor of the brandy burns through the sweetness, scorching his throat as he swallows.
Remus looks up at him through the steam curling from his cup. “So, why didn’t you stay at James’ for Christmas?”
“I-” Sirius frowns, at a loss for words. The Potters are his family now, as near as makes no difference, but how to explain the sudden feeling of distance, of absence? He shrugs, looking away.
“You know that James would never push you out,” Remus begins.
“It’s not that at all!” Sirius protests. “I just wanted to do something different this year. And I wanted to see you.”
Remus looks at him inscrutably, then down at his eggnog. Sirius squirms. It’s been half a year since he last tried to talk about seeing Remus, but it seems that some topics are still to be avoided. “What about you? Why aren’t you home with your parents?”
Remus sighs. “You know what the werewolf propaganda’s been like recently. I thought it was best to lay low for a while, so it would be harder for- unwanted visitors- to find me.”
“Is that why you didn’t come to James’?”
“Well, it was the second most likely place for me to be, wasn’t it?”
“You should’ve talked to us, Moony. We could have worked something out.”
Remus laughs. “We’re Marauders, Padfoot. We of all people ought to know that no safeguard’s entirely foolproof.”
Sirius frowns. “Still-”
“It’s okay, Pads.” No, it isn’t, Sirius thinks, but he’s never been able to win against Remus when he uses that voice, so he subsides.
Remus looks up, confused at the abrupt silence. Sirius is staring out the window trying to look nonchalant, but the little furrow in his brow gives him away.
“Hey.” Remus sets his mug down, drawing his knees up beneath his chin. “Something bothering you?”
“No.” But Sirius’ voice is small, uncertain.
“Padfoot. Tell me.”
“It’s nothing.”
Remus merely raises an eyebrow, waiting.
“I just- I wanted to see you, okay? I did. I missed you, idiot. And it’s awfully bloody hard to find you when you’re always running off on Dumbledore’s errands.”
Remus blinks, caught off-guard. “I’m not-”
“You are.” Sirius hunches down, digging his heels into the sofa. “Or at least you are whenever I’m looking for you. You’ve met with Peter and Lily and James at least once or twice.”
“Maybe, but I’m not running away from you, either.” Remus reaches out, lifting Sirius’ chin with a finger. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
Sirius presses against his hand with a sigh, smiling reluctantly. “Yeah, guess I am.”
“Daft dog,” Remus says affectionately. “You’re always welcome here, you know that.”
Sirius wriggles at the warmth in Moony’s voice, uncurling inside his chest. Flopping over, he pulls Remus down until they end up, laughing, in a pile of tangled limbs, curled improbably around each other. This, he thinks. This is what I wanted, what I hoped for. Well, except for one thing.
“Moony?”
“Yeah?”
“What if I wanted to stay, not just for Christmas?”
Remus rolls his eyes, his long-suffering look somewhat ruined by the quirk at the corner of his mouth. “Then stay.”
Outside, the night is falling, but inside, Sirius thinks, it feels like sunrise.
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Date: 2008-12-30 06:59 pm (UTC)In fact, this whole thing is adorable and not at all over-fluffy. I appreciate how they are still boys who call each other obnoxious names and tease one another.
Well done!
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Date: 2008-12-30 10:10 pm (UTC)and i love the details of Remus' shabby little flat, the small things like the cheeks flushed from the cold and Sirius pressing his nose against Remus' neck, MOTORBIKE ♥, and the bit about Remus wanting to lay low because of werewolf propaganda. oh, and that last line is beautiful. in short: I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS.
thank you thank you! ♥♥
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Date: 2009-01-03 09:35 pm (UTC)I actually liked these two lines the best.
“What if I wanted to stay, not just for Christmas?”
Remus rolls his eyes, his long-suffering look somewhat ruined by the quirk at the corner of his mouth. “Then stay.”
Then stay...just so simple and easy and right.
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Date: 2009-01-03 11:13 pm (UTC)