Shameless fluff (because God knows I haven't done that in a while)
Title: When Morning Comes
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: PG
A/N: Belated birthday drabble for the lovely sleeper6!
It’s ridiculous, really, the way they’re giggling like school-girls at two in the morning. There is a fire in the hearth, and fairy lights glitter red and gold around the sleeping portraits, but the air is warm and heavy in their alcoholic haze and all Sirius can concentrate on is the way his legs brush casually against Remus’, pyjama-clad and sprawled out on the sofa. Sirius knows he should be paying attention to the telly, but he finds his gaze wandering to the lines of Remus’ lazy smile, the fire-bright joy in his eyes, and the mesmerizing way he throws his head back when he laughs, exposing the barely-there freckles on his throat.
“Pads?” Remus chuckles, elbowing him hard in the ribs, “You forgot to drink; he said ‘jellybaby’ again!”
His attention flitting briefly to the enchanted screen, Sirius grins and knocks back another shot. Remus grins back, and Sirius feels it like the slow burn of alcohol down his throat: familiar, heady and intoxicating. He is drunk on Remus’ smile, and other parts besides, but knows there’s a very high chance neither of them will remember anything come morning. Sirius isn’t worried. He’ll say it sooner or later, he thinks, slumping against Remus’ shoulder.
Hopefully sooner.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: PG
A/N: Belated birthday drabble for the lovely sleeper6!
It’s ridiculous, really, the way they’re giggling like school-girls at two in the morning. There is a fire in the hearth, and fairy lights glitter red and gold around the sleeping portraits, but the air is warm and heavy in their alcoholic haze and all Sirius can concentrate on is the way his legs brush casually against Remus’, pyjama-clad and sprawled out on the sofa. Sirius knows he should be paying attention to the telly, but he finds his gaze wandering to the lines of Remus’ lazy smile, the fire-bright joy in his eyes, and the mesmerizing way he throws his head back when he laughs, exposing the barely-there freckles on his throat.
“Pads?” Remus chuckles, elbowing him hard in the ribs, “You forgot to drink; he said ‘jellybaby’ again!”
His attention flitting briefly to the enchanted screen, Sirius grins and knocks back another shot. Remus grins back, and Sirius feels it like the slow burn of alcohol down his throat: familiar, heady and intoxicating. He is drunk on Remus’ smile, and other parts besides, but knows there’s a very high chance neither of them will remember anything come morning. Sirius isn’t worried. He’ll say it sooner or later, he thinks, slumping against Remus’ shoulder.
Hopefully sooner.