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small_giftsTitle: The Things We Do For Love
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snow_blossoms
Written for:rufus
Rating: PG-13 (for swearing only)
Summary and/or Prompt: Remus tricks Sirius into being St. Nick for Christmas in the children's ward of the hospital.
Any other random notes, warnings, etc.: Beta'd by my little sister, the only person in "real life" that I let read my fanfic :)
“What. The. Fuck.”
“Sirius. We’re at a children’s hospital. Watch your language.”
“Is this some sort of fucking joke?”
“What?”
“I’m wearing a costume. And it’s velour. Red, fucking, velour.” Sirius tugged pitifully at the itchy collar of his coat.
“If you don’t stop saying that Lily’s going to come over and hex your tongue off, you know.” Matching involuntary shudders slipped down the spines of Remus and Sirius. For now, at least, Lily was at a safe distance, bustling about the children’s ward putting the finishing touches on the décor and altogether aglow with holiday spirit. Still, the boys knew from experience that the low down dirty rotten wench had better hearing than McGonagall herself and quicker with a curse, too.
“Why do I have to be the one in costume?”
“What do you mean? I’m wearing a costume too.” Remus insisted, patting the fraying wool of his absurdly green sweater with a bit of a wicked smile.
“It’s a sweater vest Remus. For Merlin’s sake, it’s not a costume it’s your apparel of choice.” And so it had, afterall, come from his own closet. But that was beside the point, wasn’t it?
“It’s an elves sweater, Sirius.”
“Elves don’t wear sweaters, Remus. If you want to play dress up, don a towel and dance me a jig. And when you’re through, bring me an extremely strong cup of whisky,” Sirius announced with all the elitist grandeur he could draw forth from the recesses of his stuffy childhood memories.
“I’m one of St. Nick’s elves, Sirius.”
“Oh ho. And do St. Nick’s elves bid their master everything he commands?” Sirius wondered allowed, with a waggle of his eyebrows. Remus gave one of his elusive smiles, perfectly placid, as though he was not playing a highly charged game of sexual cat and mouse, and went off in search of a way he could be helpful, leaving Sirius left in the middle of the room looking every bit an anorexic Santa Claus.
It was not long, however, that our underfed St. Nick was joined by one of his comrades, another fallen soldier in the war against holiday cheer and goodwill towards men.
“Nice beard old man,” James said, clapping a hand a little too forcefully on Sirius’ back.
“Fuck off Prongs,” Sirius scowled, watching while Remus and Lily tangled themselves in a bi of man-eating holiday foilage. James scratched at his head thoughtfully, carefully.
“The things we do for love, eh?” Sirius looked up, curiously, and only just then noticed the rapidly blinking ball attached to James’ nose and the ridiculous pair of antlers sprouting from his head.
“Rudolph?” James nodded miserably. “Ta, mate.”
Across the room, Lily was congratulating Remus on his grand accomplishment that morning.
“I really think his agreeing to come is a step in the right direction Remus.”
“Well the thing is…” Remus tried to interject, struggling with a particularly resistant strand of garland.
“I know it’s out of his comfort zone, but showing that he cares about these children is showing that he cares about you, your future,” Lily babbled on.
“Yes, it’s just that…”
“Maybe he’s even thinking about having children with you someday.” Oh that was just too much. It had been an epic battle, but the garland had finally triumphed.
“Remus?” Lily asked, peering down to where he lay, dumbstruck, among the pine needles, from the heavens like a purveyor of very bad omens. “Are you alright?”
“No. Children.”
“Oh. Right. I suppose I was getting a little carried away, wasn’t I?” Remus wimpered slightly and nodded.
“I tricked him.”
“What?”
“I tricked him into coming. And tricked him into taking off his clothes. And then tricked him right into that ridiculous velour jumpsuit. I’m a horrible excuse for a man,” Remus sighed. Lily gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Do you see that pair of antlers coming from James’ head?” Remus looked over to where James and Sirius were standing, rather awkwardly, arms crossed, scowls carved into their faces, and nodded.
“You don’t even want to know the sort of sexual favors I’ve promised him for this one. And to think, I’m still trying to work off dressing him up like Elton John for Halloween.” Remus blushed, but chuckled. “Let’s go get some cocoa and I’ll tell you this amazing trick for getting him out of bed in the mornings…You’ve got an apron right?”
***
An hour later, the room was full to the brim with children of varying ages. Some were sick, others newly orphaned by the war outside the snow-covered windows. All were, to Remus’ mind, too thin, too somber, and too young to live with ghosts behind their eyes. It was not surprising that none were all too eager to sit upon St. Nick’s lap. The older kids were beyond belief, the younger, virulently taught not to talk to strangers, let alone crawl upon their laps and whisper wishes into their ears. Lily was beside herself. Sirius was a moment from blowing something, everything up.
Remus cleared his throat.
“Um, hello,” Remus tried. Thirty-two pairs of beady eyes fixed on him as though he had suddenly grown antlers. “Happy Christmas.”
“It’s not Christmas yet,” one child, an older boy with a sallow face, shouted from near the back. Cheeky little goddamn bastard, Remus thought to himself, it’s only three days away.
“Yes, well that’s very lucky for you all, because if it were Christmas it’d be too late to tell St. Nick what you wanted,” Remus tried again. Lily smiled encouragingly at him, but Sirius continued examining his cuticles as though he were not supposed to be the manifestation of everything good and hopeful in the world. Still, some of the children were looking slightly heartened. That is, except for the trouble-making brats at the back of the room.
“I’m not sitting on his lap. He’s not even St. Nick. I saw greasy black hair sticking out of his hat!” One girl exclaimed. What the hell was wrong with children these days anyways? Remus wondered. Little baby Death Eater brats, the whole lot. Looking behind him, Remus noticed that Sirius had moved on to preening his hair, twirling a so-called greasy lock around his middle finger.
“Um, he’s really nice. I promise.” Remus was at a lost for what to do next and Lily looked like she was on the verge of tears. “He doesn’t bite.” Well that was an out-and-out lie, but it almost received a giggle from a few kids.
“Hey. Elf!” Remus turned around, cringing, hoping Sirius had not hit his breaking point.
“Yes?”
“Why don’t you come up here and sit on my knee and tell me what you want?” Remus blushed the color of Lily’s hair.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, St. Nick,” Remus growled, through gritted teeth.
“Yes it is!” A little girl called from the front row.
“Yeah, if he doesn’t eat you then we’ll know he’s safe,” another child piped up.
“See, be a good little elf and hop up here,” Sirius said, patting his knee with the most lewd grin the children’s ward had ever seen. Remus shot a glance at Lily to gauge her thoughts on the idea, but she just shrugged dejectedly. Remus made his way slowly to the podium on which Sirius was perched. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“What do you want for Christmas?” Sirius had adopted a booming voice, like the jolly sort of grandfather he’d never had.
“Siriusss,” Remus moaned.
“Speak up, lad, they can’t hear you out there.” A rumble of laughter went through the crowd of children.
“Um, books. I’d like some books. And perhaps a new umbrella. And maybe some chocolate.”
“Is that all?” Sirius asked with a wink.
“Yes, now let me down.” Sirius acquiesced, and with a pat of Remus’ arse sent him on his way. It was only another moment before the first of the kids were scurrying up to sitting on this very unusual St. Nick’s lap.
That night at home, devoid of all things velour, Sirius slipped under the covers of their bed.
“Alright, alright, what do you want me to do?” Remus asked, knowing he probably deserved at least a month of servitude for getting Sirius dressed up as St. Nick.
“I’d say we’re about even,” Sirius said, yawning widely.
“Even? Just for making me sit on your lap for a few minutes while a room full of children looked on?” Remus asked incredulously.
“No. Even just because. It turns out being St. Nick isn’t so bad. I even liked a few of the ankle-biters.” Remus laughed.
“Sirius Black, I do believe you’ve gone soft in your old age.”
“I beg to differ!” Sirius exclaimed, shocked by such an insinuation.
“Prove it?”
Sirius didn’t have to be asked twice.
Author/Artist:
snow_blossomsWritten for:
rufusRating: PG-13 (for swearing only)
Summary and/or Prompt: Remus tricks Sirius into being St. Nick for Christmas in the children's ward of the hospital.
Any other random notes, warnings, etc.: Beta'd by my little sister, the only person in "real life" that I let read my fanfic :)
“What. The. Fuck.”
“Sirius. We’re at a children’s hospital. Watch your language.”
“Is this some sort of fucking joke?”
“What?”
“I’m wearing a costume. And it’s velour. Red, fucking, velour.” Sirius tugged pitifully at the itchy collar of his coat.
“If you don’t stop saying that Lily’s going to come over and hex your tongue off, you know.” Matching involuntary shudders slipped down the spines of Remus and Sirius. For now, at least, Lily was at a safe distance, bustling about the children’s ward putting the finishing touches on the décor and altogether aglow with holiday spirit. Still, the boys knew from experience that the low down dirty rotten wench had better hearing than McGonagall herself and quicker with a curse, too.
“Why do I have to be the one in costume?”
“What do you mean? I’m wearing a costume too.” Remus insisted, patting the fraying wool of his absurdly green sweater with a bit of a wicked smile.
“It’s a sweater vest Remus. For Merlin’s sake, it’s not a costume it’s your apparel of choice.” And so it had, afterall, come from his own closet. But that was beside the point, wasn’t it?
“It’s an elves sweater, Sirius.”
“Elves don’t wear sweaters, Remus. If you want to play dress up, don a towel and dance me a jig. And when you’re through, bring me an extremely strong cup of whisky,” Sirius announced with all the elitist grandeur he could draw forth from the recesses of his stuffy childhood memories.
“I’m one of St. Nick’s elves, Sirius.”
“Oh ho. And do St. Nick’s elves bid their master everything he commands?” Sirius wondered allowed, with a waggle of his eyebrows. Remus gave one of his elusive smiles, perfectly placid, as though he was not playing a highly charged game of sexual cat and mouse, and went off in search of a way he could be helpful, leaving Sirius left in the middle of the room looking every bit an anorexic Santa Claus.
It was not long, however, that our underfed St. Nick was joined by one of his comrades, another fallen soldier in the war against holiday cheer and goodwill towards men.
“Nice beard old man,” James said, clapping a hand a little too forcefully on Sirius’ back.
“Fuck off Prongs,” Sirius scowled, watching while Remus and Lily tangled themselves in a bi of man-eating holiday foilage. James scratched at his head thoughtfully, carefully.
“The things we do for love, eh?” Sirius looked up, curiously, and only just then noticed the rapidly blinking ball attached to James’ nose and the ridiculous pair of antlers sprouting from his head.
“Rudolph?” James nodded miserably. “Ta, mate.”
Across the room, Lily was congratulating Remus on his grand accomplishment that morning.
“I really think his agreeing to come is a step in the right direction Remus.”
“Well the thing is…” Remus tried to interject, struggling with a particularly resistant strand of garland.
“I know it’s out of his comfort zone, but showing that he cares about these children is showing that he cares about you, your future,” Lily babbled on.
“Yes, it’s just that…”
“Maybe he’s even thinking about having children with you someday.” Oh that was just too much. It had been an epic battle, but the garland had finally triumphed.
“Remus?” Lily asked, peering down to where he lay, dumbstruck, among the pine needles, from the heavens like a purveyor of very bad omens. “Are you alright?”
“No. Children.”
“Oh. Right. I suppose I was getting a little carried away, wasn’t I?” Remus wimpered slightly and nodded.
“I tricked him.”
“What?”
“I tricked him into coming. And tricked him into taking off his clothes. And then tricked him right into that ridiculous velour jumpsuit. I’m a horrible excuse for a man,” Remus sighed. Lily gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Do you see that pair of antlers coming from James’ head?” Remus looked over to where James and Sirius were standing, rather awkwardly, arms crossed, scowls carved into their faces, and nodded.
“You don’t even want to know the sort of sexual favors I’ve promised him for this one. And to think, I’m still trying to work off dressing him up like Elton John for Halloween.” Remus blushed, but chuckled. “Let’s go get some cocoa and I’ll tell you this amazing trick for getting him out of bed in the mornings…You’ve got an apron right?”
***
An hour later, the room was full to the brim with children of varying ages. Some were sick, others newly orphaned by the war outside the snow-covered windows. All were, to Remus’ mind, too thin, too somber, and too young to live with ghosts behind their eyes. It was not surprising that none were all too eager to sit upon St. Nick’s lap. The older kids were beyond belief, the younger, virulently taught not to talk to strangers, let alone crawl upon their laps and whisper wishes into their ears. Lily was beside herself. Sirius was a moment from blowing something, everything up.
Remus cleared his throat.
“Um, hello,” Remus tried. Thirty-two pairs of beady eyes fixed on him as though he had suddenly grown antlers. “Happy Christmas.”
“It’s not Christmas yet,” one child, an older boy with a sallow face, shouted from near the back. Cheeky little goddamn bastard, Remus thought to himself, it’s only three days away.
“Yes, well that’s very lucky for you all, because if it were Christmas it’d be too late to tell St. Nick what you wanted,” Remus tried again. Lily smiled encouragingly at him, but Sirius continued examining his cuticles as though he were not supposed to be the manifestation of everything good and hopeful in the world. Still, some of the children were looking slightly heartened. That is, except for the trouble-making brats at the back of the room.
“I’m not sitting on his lap. He’s not even St. Nick. I saw greasy black hair sticking out of his hat!” One girl exclaimed. What the hell was wrong with children these days anyways? Remus wondered. Little baby Death Eater brats, the whole lot. Looking behind him, Remus noticed that Sirius had moved on to preening his hair, twirling a so-called greasy lock around his middle finger.
“Um, he’s really nice. I promise.” Remus was at a lost for what to do next and Lily looked like she was on the verge of tears. “He doesn’t bite.” Well that was an out-and-out lie, but it almost received a giggle from a few kids.
“Hey. Elf!” Remus turned around, cringing, hoping Sirius had not hit his breaking point.
“Yes?”
“Why don’t you come up here and sit on my knee and tell me what you want?” Remus blushed the color of Lily’s hair.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, St. Nick,” Remus growled, through gritted teeth.
“Yes it is!” A little girl called from the front row.
“Yeah, if he doesn’t eat you then we’ll know he’s safe,” another child piped up.
“See, be a good little elf and hop up here,” Sirius said, patting his knee with the most lewd grin the children’s ward had ever seen. Remus shot a glance at Lily to gauge her thoughts on the idea, but she just shrugged dejectedly. Remus made his way slowly to the podium on which Sirius was perched. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“What do you want for Christmas?” Sirius had adopted a booming voice, like the jolly sort of grandfather he’d never had.
“Siriusss,” Remus moaned.
“Speak up, lad, they can’t hear you out there.” A rumble of laughter went through the crowd of children.
“Um, books. I’d like some books. And perhaps a new umbrella. And maybe some chocolate.”
“Is that all?” Sirius asked with a wink.
“Yes, now let me down.” Sirius acquiesced, and with a pat of Remus’ arse sent him on his way. It was only another moment before the first of the kids were scurrying up to sitting on this very unusual St. Nick’s lap.
That night at home, devoid of all things velour, Sirius slipped under the covers of their bed.
“Alright, alright, what do you want me to do?” Remus asked, knowing he probably deserved at least a month of servitude for getting Sirius dressed up as St. Nick.
“I’d say we’re about even,” Sirius said, yawning widely.
“Even? Just for making me sit on your lap for a few minutes while a room full of children looked on?” Remus asked incredulously.
“No. Even just because. It turns out being St. Nick isn’t so bad. I even liked a few of the ankle-biters.” Remus laughed.
“Sirius Black, I do believe you’ve gone soft in your old age.”
“I beg to differ!” Sirius exclaimed, shocked by such an insinuation.
“Prove it?”
Sirius didn’t have to be asked twice.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-12-26 08:29 pm (UTC)Bratty little children have much more charecter than the sweet ones.
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Date: 2006-12-26 09:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-28 03:51 am (UTC)This was a wonderful thing to come home to after 14 hours in the car!!
Thank you so much!!
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Date: 2006-12-28 09:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-03 04:43 pm (UTC)And the kids were ace. See, kids are evil!
no subject
Date: 2007-01-04 01:50 pm (UTC)