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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I do not own Harry Potter, its characters, or anything associated with it. I'm not making any money from this story, and I don't intend to.
Challenge & Summary: Challenge #55: "I saw Moony kissing Santa Claus.." - someone walks in on Remus & Sirius kissing under the mistletoe.
Author Notes: Billions of thank-yous and fresh-baked cookies to my betas, LJ Users blackmurtlap and siryn99!
Sirius was staring at him again, and if he didn’t soon stop, Remus thought there was a very good chance he might go mad.
He glanced sharply up from his Charms text, hoping to catch him in the act, but Sirius was already innocently looking down at his own book.
There was, however, an unmistakable mischievous glint in Sirius’ slate-grey eyes.
Irritably Remus scribbled a note on a scrap of parchment and shoved it at Sirius.
Quit staring at me!
Sirius took his quill down from where it had been jauntily stuck behind one ear, and wrote Mr. Padfoot cordially requests that Mr. Moony please stop interrupting Mr. Padfoot’s studying.
If you don’t stop, Remus’ note threatened, then I will go mad and scream, thereby causing us both to be tossed out of the library and it will be your bloody fault! And since when do you study?
Sirius frowned. Mr. Padfoot suggests that Mr. Moony is more than slightly delusional. After a moment he added, They put you in St. Mungo’s for that, you know – but I’ll visit.
Remus groaned. Crumpling up the note, he slammed his text shut and stalked out of the library.
Sirius grinned to himself, swiftly gathering his own books and hurrying after his friend.
The problem with Sirius, Remus decided, was that he was simply too good-looking, and he knew it.
He can’t help but be arrogant, he reflected, admiring the way Sirius’ hair fell casually across his eyes without actually obscuring them. He glanced surreptitiously at the other boy, who was sprawled comfortably in one of the armchairs that dotted the Gryffindor common room. His eyes were closed, and his long legs dangled over the side of the chair. He was sucking idly on a sugar quill. Every now and again, Remus caught a glimpse of Sirius’ tongue as it flicked up against the quill, drawing the sweetness further into his mouth.
Remus quite forgot about surreptitious glances.
The sugar quill was beginning to melt, sticky dribbles sliding slowly across Sirius’ palm. Eyes still closed, Sirius transferred the sweet treat to his other hand and began leisurely licking the melted sugar off his sticky palm. Mid-lick, he suddenly opened his eyes, catching Remus’ open-mouthed gaze full-on.
“Want some?” Sirius said innocently, popping just the tip of the sugar quill back into his mouth.
Remus let out a strangled squeak. He slammed his textbook shut, Charms essay forgotten. Thank Merlin for loose robes, he thought wildly as he fled for the relative safety of the dorm.
Sirius watched him hasten up the stairs, robes billowing out behind him. A tiny smile curved the corners of his lips as he licked the remaining sugar from his hands.
Remus threw himself onto his bed, yanking the curtains closed around it. He flung off his robes, tossing them in a crumpled heap at the foot of his bed atop his Charms text.
I can’t take this for the entire Christmas hols, he thought despairingly. He’s bloody torturing me! Why the hell couldn’t he and James have gone skiing like they’d planned?
Swiftly he unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down just far enough to access his prick. The head already glistened with precome, and he ran his palm roughly over it, unable to shake the vision of Sirius licking melted sugar off his hands. Remus groaned aloud, stroking himself relentlessly as the images crowded his memory. Black hair falling carelessly across gently closed eyelids. The tip of the sugar quill disappearing between Sirius’ wet, sugary lips. Sirius’ tongue flicking slyly along the underside of his rigid cock… No, it was the quill, licking the quill that he wished was his cock. The way Sirius had caught him watching, gazing up at him innocently with wide gray eyes. The drips of melted sugar quill, translucent white, just like –
Remus groaned again, spilling hotly over his hand as his orgasm overtook him. He lay on his back, panting slightly, messy and sticky with semen. Bad enough to be a werewolf, he thought dazedly, but perving on one of my friends? One of my straight best friends? He shivered slightly; it was always so drafty in the castle.
“Wow,” said Sirius.
Remus’ eyes flew open.
The bedcurtains, he noted with dismay, were not tightly closed as he’d thought, but hung haphazardly ajar. And worse, Sirius was leaning against the footboard of Remus’ bed, quite unconcernedly drinking in the sight of a partially clothed and rather sticky werewolf.
“Fuck,” said Remus, and squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t work. When he reopened them a moment later, Sirius was still there.
“We could,” Sirius said thoughtfully.
Remus stared at him, trying to look dignified as he ducked under his blankets. “We could what?”
“You offered first,” said Sirius, hauling his jumper over his head and sliding under Remus’ covers.
Remus was too stunned to move. He could feel the heat of Sirius’ skin as he pressed up against him, long legs sliding sinuously between Remus’ own. Remus breathed in the clean scent of Sirius’ Muggle shampoo (“It makes it all silky, Moony. Here, feel it.”) and wondered how he could ever have thought the dorm beds not big enough for two. He and Sirius seemed to fit perfectly in his, Sirius’ bare muscled torso lined up snugly alongside Remus, who suddenly felt very overdressed. He could feel the hard length of Sirius’ erection pressing insistently against his thigh.
Sirius is in my bed, Remus thought, automatically nestling into the other boy’s embrace. Sirius is in my bed. Sirius –
-- is in my bed?
Abruptly Remus sat up, shoving Sirius as hard as he could until the other boy fell backwards out of the bed with an undignified thump.
“Hey!” Sirius yelled, rubbing his hip. “That hurt.”
“If I find this is some… some elaborate prank,” Remus seethed, “I will cast any number of injurious hexes on your most intimate of body parts.”
Sirius mumbled something.
Remus sighed, irritated. “You know I didn’t hear that.”
“I said I brought you something,” Sirius said quietly. He fished about in his trouser pockets and finally brought out something cupped in his hand. “I’m going about this arse-backwards, I know.”
Remus narrowed his eyes, watching suspiciously as Sirius tapped the mysterious thing in his hand and whispered an incantation. He watched, too, with growing horror as the thing grew, flinging itself out of Sirius’ hand and into the air, where it settled just out of reach over Remus’ head. He gaped at it in disbelief. “Mistletoe, Sirius?”
Sirius grinned at him hopefully, looking for all the world like a great overgrown puppy. “Well, it is Christmas, after all. It won’t go away till you kiss me either,” he announced cheerfully. “It’s charmed to you and me.”
Remus looked aghast. “Why?” he moaned.
“Because I like you, Moony,” Sirius explained.
“Of course you do,” Remus said. It was difficult to concentrate while the sprig of greenery kept bobbing around overhead. “We’re friends.”
“No,” said Sirius. “I mean I like you. Like James likes Lily.”
“But James loves Lily,” said Remus.
Remus blinked. “Oh,” he said in a very small voice. “Since when?” He hesitantly patted the mattress next to him and Sirius immediately climbed back up.
“Last year. After… Well, you know. The thing with Snape. For which I’m eternally sorry,” he added hastily as Remus’ face darkened at the memory. “Before you forgave me, I thought I was going to lose our friendship forever. That’s when I realized…” His voice died off as he chewed on his lower lip. He glanced furtively up at Remus, wide gray eyes fringed thickly with dark lashes. Sirius, Remus realized, had rather girly eyes.
“Yes?” Remus prodded.
Sirius took a deep breath, and the words tumbled out all in a rush. “I didn’t want just to be your friend. You’d already come out to us, and somehow Snivellus found out. And, well, you’re always nice to him, though I can’t think why. And then I realized afterwards that I’d been jealous.”
Remus sat back against the headboard, arms folded across his chest, contemplating. “You like girls, Padfoot. I’ve seen you with them. The entire school has seen the way you are about girls.”
Sirius shrugged. “Well, sure. They’re soft and snoggable, and most of them smell pretty good, and they’re mostly nice to look at, and…”
“Yet,” Remus interrupted, “you’ve charmed mistletoe to hang over my head until I kiss you.”
There wasn’t any easy way to explain it, Sirius realized. Remus was Remus; no one made him as happy just by being in the same room. No one was as thoughtful, or funny, or kind. No one else had the forthright amber eyes, or infinite patience for Sirius’ ever-changing moods. No one else made Sirius’ heart skip a few beats simply by smiling.
“You’re you, Moony,” Sirius said earnestly, by way of explanation. “So, will you?”
“Will I what?”
“Yes.” And Remus leaned in and did just that, lips pressing firmly against Sirius’, parting just enough to allow his tongue to slip into Sirius’ mouth. He felt Sirius’ arms creep stealthily around him, hugging him closer as the kiss deepened. Throwing one leg over Sirius, Remus began moving his hips in slow circles against the other boy, already half-hard.
“I liked your little exhibition downstairs,” Remus murmured as his tongue traced the outline of Sirius’ jaw.
“I’ve been practicing,” Sirius said solemnly. “Been going through a lot of sugar quills. I could show you later.”
Remus grinned. “That could be arranged,” he said, and rolled fully atop Sirius.
Both boys’ heads jerked up at the sound of James Potter’s scream. Sirius unceremoniously fell off the bed again.
James stood stock-still in the doorway, bright red. “You’re only supposed to kiss under that stuff!”
Remus stared. “You knew?”
“Of course I knew,” James grumbled. “I’ve had to listen to the two of you separately moaning for over a year about your bloody unrequited love. It was either enchanted mistletoe or just lock the pair of you in a closet somewhere.”
“Yes, well, the whole school’s had to listen to you gripe about Lily ignoring you for six years,” piped up Sirius from the floor.
James pointed at the mistletoe, which, mission now accomplished, had fallen limply to the bed. “Good thing for you, isn’t it, that she changed her mind, and that she’s got such a knack for Charms.”
It was decidedly strange, Remus decided some twenty-odd years later, seeing Grimmauld Place festooned with fairy lights, full of laughter and gaiety. Of course it was Christmas, but the old house wasn’t ordinarily conducive to festivity under even the best of circumstances. But the second war was over now, Voldemort destroyed at long last, and Sirius and he had somehow come through it all relatively unscathed.
“Nothing fazes me anymore,” Sirius had said to him just a few nights earlier. “Not after Azkaban, not after that bloody Veil thingy shot me a year into my own future, nothing.”
“Really?” Remus had laughed. “Did I ever tell you about when I was first teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts? About Neville Longbottom’s boggart?”
“Dozens of times,” Sirius had said happily. “Tell me again.”
And so he did.
Remus grinned as he felt Sirius’ arms sneak around his waist. “Enjoying the Christmas party?” he murmured into Remus’ ear.
“Yes, but it does feel a bit odd, doesn’t it? Having it here, I mean.”
Sirius laughed, a low chuckle in his throat. “Yes, but a good strange.” He turned Remus to face him. “I’ve got a surprise for you. Look up.”
Remus looked up, a smile spreading across his lips. “Mistletoe,” he breathed.
“Remember our first kiss?”
“As if I could forget,” Remus chided, snaking his arms around Sirius as their lips met, drawing him closer. “Got any sugar quills?” he teased.
They jumped at the nervous cough behind them. Turning, they saw Ginny, the youngest of the seemingly never-ending Weasley clan. Her face was nearly as bright a red as her hair. He had taught Ginny, Remus recalled, and she had excelled in his class.
“Just thought, um, you should know,” she stammered, pointing to the mistletoe floating serenely overhead. “That stuff’s usually infested with Nargles.”
They stared blankly at her.
“Er, Luna Lovegood told me,” she added, blushing even more fiercely as she hastened back the way she’d come.
They watched her go, bemused.
“What the bloody hell are Nargles?” Remus asked, confused.
Sirius shrugged. “You’re the ex-professor,” he said. “You tell me.”
“Haven’t a clue,” Remus confessed, pulling Sirius back into his arms. “And to be honest, right now I don’t really care.”