"Happiest Yet"
Title: Happiest Yet
Author: museme87
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: PG-13, because Sirius can't go one fic without swearing
Word count: 739
Warning: domestic!fic, AU, gender bend, kids
Summary: It's Remus' 28th birthday.
Author's Note: Well, this is another fic that fits into my AUverse, post-war. It's short, done in honor of Remus' 51st birthday, though I intended it to be longer. That's what I get for waiting last minute to write it. If you've read "Memories Are Made of This", you'll recognize Al. However at the time I wrote "Memories", I hadn't quite fleshed the post-war verse out very well, so some things are different. Unbetaed, so mistakes are my own. Enjoy!
"Oi, Al! Don't poke your brother in the eye!"
It's not two seconds after Sirius raises his voice at his eldest that both boys fall into a mess of tears-Al because he's terribly sensitive and Leo because he's just been assaulted with a finger. Sirius struggles to get up from where he sits behind the coffee table-balls deep in paper work-and finally crawls to his sons on the opposite side. He scoops up Leo and assesses the damage, while Al is clinging to him, arms around his neck, and sobbing his apologies.
Sometimes Sirius wishes they had conceived Leo after Al had gone off to Hogwarts rather than before the elder boy's second birthday. Sometimes he wishes for a lot of things, like his bloody sanity for starters.
Leo, apparently significantly less injured than he let on, suddenly occupies himself with sucking on his father's shirt. Al, however, is still hiccupping his cries, face red and blotchy. With kisses to his forehead, Sirius tries to comfort him, hushing him with a there there and it's okay, mate.
Just as he moves to swap sons, placing Leo back on his blanket and taking Al into his arms, the door to the kitchen swings open. A cake hovers into the room first, followed by Remus who is somehow juggling Al's child cup, a bottle of beer, a glass of something else, plates, forks, and the camera. How exactly any one person can carry so much is completely beyond him, but he's entirely certain that it's a skill that develops with motherhood.
Al immediately runs to what is-for all intents and purposes-his mum. Sirius still hates how Remus has been stuck as girl for what's nearly four years now, still blames himself for somehow allowing Remus to take that ruddy potion in the first place. Always the fucking martyr-Moony.
She's Remus, of course, down to the very scars on her body. Beautiful and funny and witty and everything he's ever wanted in a lover, everything he's ever had with Remus. The only difference is the bits, really. And the fierce necessity to remember contraceptive charms-a hard lesson learned. But they've a legitimate marriage now, which they could have never had before. And legitimate children-two boys who carry the protection of the Black name. They're both healthy-Al bursting with Remus' creativity and Leo bursting with magic just like him at that age.
So Sirius shouldn't be sad, but somehow he still is.
He looks up at Remus, who is swaying Al on her hip and coddling him like she's done since he was born. It's probably why he's so sensitive, so desperately needy when it comes to his mum. And Sirius can't quite blame her for doting on their eldest; they fought tooth and nail for his existence. With the baby, both of them are still stretched thin on time, and Sirius has to admit that Al has been taking it in stride-aside from the occasional eyeball poking.
"Ready for birthday cake?" Remus asks him, smiling that warm, brilliant smile.
"Me!" Al exclaims, now squirming from his mother's grasp.
Sirius grins. "Looks like the peanut gallery has spoken."
Remus busies herself with cutting the cake and periodically pushing Al's fingers from the frosting. Sirius thinks that they ought to have sung happy birthday to her first, but then recalls that Al has been doing nothing but all day. It's gotten to the point that it's grating on her nerves now, so he thinks better of opening his mouth and instead pops the cap off his beer.
"More, more!" Al says, doing a little dance as he examines his slice. "Mummy!"
"Do you think I want to be up all night with you, Altair Arcturus Black?" She kisses his temple, before giving his bum a pat. "Off you go."
Al settles next to Leo on his blanket, the baby reaching for his brother's plate. He jerks it away from the grabbing hands-thoroughly upset with his little brother-and the cake nearly topples in the process. Sirius laughs, watching the whole scenario play out with a sense of paternal pride, while Remus settles in next to him.
She offers him a plate. "Cake?"
"Thanks."
Placing his arm around her shoulders, he pulls her in to plant a kiss on her sweet smelling hair, lingering near her ear for a whispered, "Happy twenty-eighth birthday, love."
Author: museme87
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: PG-13, because Sirius can't go one fic without swearing
Word count: 739
Warning: domestic!fic, AU, gender bend, kids
Summary: It's Remus' 28th birthday.
Author's Note: Well, this is another fic that fits into my AUverse, post-war. It's short, done in honor of Remus' 51st birthday, though I intended it to be longer. That's what I get for waiting last minute to write it. If you've read "Memories Are Made of This", you'll recognize Al. However at the time I wrote "Memories", I hadn't quite fleshed the post-war verse out very well, so some things are different. Unbetaed, so mistakes are my own. Enjoy!
"Oi, Al! Don't poke your brother in the eye!"
It's not two seconds after Sirius raises his voice at his eldest that both boys fall into a mess of tears-Al because he's terribly sensitive and Leo because he's just been assaulted with a finger. Sirius struggles to get up from where he sits behind the coffee table-balls deep in paper work-and finally crawls to his sons on the opposite side. He scoops up Leo and assesses the damage, while Al is clinging to him, arms around his neck, and sobbing his apologies.
Sometimes Sirius wishes they had conceived Leo after Al had gone off to Hogwarts rather than before the elder boy's second birthday. Sometimes he wishes for a lot of things, like his bloody sanity for starters.
Leo, apparently significantly less injured than he let on, suddenly occupies himself with sucking on his father's shirt. Al, however, is still hiccupping his cries, face red and blotchy. With kisses to his forehead, Sirius tries to comfort him, hushing him with a there there and it's okay, mate.
Just as he moves to swap sons, placing Leo back on his blanket and taking Al into his arms, the door to the kitchen swings open. A cake hovers into the room first, followed by Remus who is somehow juggling Al's child cup, a bottle of beer, a glass of something else, plates, forks, and the camera. How exactly any one person can carry so much is completely beyond him, but he's entirely certain that it's a skill that develops with motherhood.
Al immediately runs to what is-for all intents and purposes-his mum. Sirius still hates how Remus has been stuck as girl for what's nearly four years now, still blames himself for somehow allowing Remus to take that ruddy potion in the first place. Always the fucking martyr-Moony.
She's Remus, of course, down to the very scars on her body. Beautiful and funny and witty and everything he's ever wanted in a lover, everything he's ever had with Remus. The only difference is the bits, really. And the fierce necessity to remember contraceptive charms-a hard lesson learned. But they've a legitimate marriage now, which they could have never had before. And legitimate children-two boys who carry the protection of the Black name. They're both healthy-Al bursting with Remus' creativity and Leo bursting with magic just like him at that age.
So Sirius shouldn't be sad, but somehow he still is.
He looks up at Remus, who is swaying Al on her hip and coddling him like she's done since he was born. It's probably why he's so sensitive, so desperately needy when it comes to his mum. And Sirius can't quite blame her for doting on their eldest; they fought tooth and nail for his existence. With the baby, both of them are still stretched thin on time, and Sirius has to admit that Al has been taking it in stride-aside from the occasional eyeball poking.
"Ready for birthday cake?" Remus asks him, smiling that warm, brilliant smile.
"Me!" Al exclaims, now squirming from his mother's grasp.
Sirius grins. "Looks like the peanut gallery has spoken."
Remus busies herself with cutting the cake and periodically pushing Al's fingers from the frosting. Sirius thinks that they ought to have sung happy birthday to her first, but then recalls that Al has been doing nothing but all day. It's gotten to the point that it's grating on her nerves now, so he thinks better of opening his mouth and instead pops the cap off his beer.
"More, more!" Al says, doing a little dance as he examines his slice. "Mummy!"
"Do you think I want to be up all night with you, Altair Arcturus Black?" She kisses his temple, before giving his bum a pat. "Off you go."
Al settles next to Leo on his blanket, the baby reaching for his brother's plate. He jerks it away from the grabbing hands-thoroughly upset with his little brother-and the cake nearly topples in the process. Sirius laughs, watching the whole scenario play out with a sense of paternal pride, while Remus settles in next to him.
She offers him a plate. "Cake?"
"Thanks."
Placing his arm around her shoulders, he pulls her in to plant a kiss on her sweet smelling hair, lingering near her ear for a whispered, "Happy twenty-eighth birthday, love."