Fanfic: The Meaning of Christmas
“Moonie. We are warlocks. Wizards. You’re even a werewolf,” Sirius muttered with great exasperation even as he untangled the strings of lights. “We do not celebrate Christmas.”
“Whyever not?” Remus retorted while he put up the finishing touch to the Christmas decorations. “Christmas is just about the only time I love London.”
“The origin of the holiday, Moonie,” Sirius rolled his eyes and turned away to take in the ridiculously cheerful and festive atmosphere in the apartment they both shared. He obviously had no idea what he was in for when he coaxed Remus to stay with him that winter break - I should never make life-changing decisions after a copious amount of alcohol and most certainly not in the afterglow of fantastic love-making, he grumbled silently.
“I know,” Remus walked up to his partner and hugging him loosely around the waist, waited till he had Sirius’ full attention before breathing, “The season of peace, love and joy.”
The gentle smile on Remus’ face reminded Sirius again why he had asked his lover to join him for the season, but clearing his throat, he mumbled, “But still, witches and Christmas…”
“Sirius?” Remus interrupted and pulled himself closer to Sirius.
“Mmmm?” Sirius could not remember how many arguments he had lost in such a way.
“Look up?” Remus asked.
Sirius did and looked uncomprehendingly at the drapes of green on the ceiling.
Remus rolled his eyes and raising his hands, pulled Sirius’ face back to face his own. Leaning in, he kissed Sirius gently on the lips and whispered, “Mistletoe and Muggle customs.”
“Muggle customs?” Sirius replied in a slight daze.
“Muggle custom,” Remus replied softly, hopefully. “For a life time together.”
“We kiss under mistletoe?” Sirius frowned and looked up at the plant again. “Didn’t we use it for the last potion in Dark Arts class?”
Remus bowed his head and rested against Sirius’ shoulder in resignation. There were honestly some days when he wanted to strangle Sirius and hang him outside the apartment. “That was holly.”
“I would have sworn they look the same,” Sirius pondered, considering the plant again before looking back at Remus and planting a small kiss on the latter’s temple. “Why the mistletoe?”
“Do we need a reason?” Remus muttered miserably into Sirius’ shoulder.
“No,” Sirius considered while he pulled Remus away from him until their noses touched. “So why do we need the mistletoe?”
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Sirius kissed the corner of Remus’ lips subtly, before pulling his lover closer against him and reveled in sweet, long kiss. He had missed this - Merlin, how he had missed this - with a keen hunger not unlike a man’s need for a sip of water after a long drought. He felt the first, tentative touch of his lover’s tongue against his and immediately craved for more, gently licking the smooth underside, and inviting the nearly foreign intrusion into his own mouth. He wound his hands around Remus and slipping his hands underneath the latter’s sweater, began to deepen the kiss.
It was a long while before they parted, and even then, Sirius had not had his fill. Stepping reluctantly apart from Remus, he waited as they both tried to catch their breaths and looked at his lover with no little wonder. He is so beautiful, Sirius thought as he leaned in and raised his lips to the close eyelids. Dropping the softest of kisses on one eyelid, before the other, he ran his lips down Remus’ nose, pausing to plant a kiss on the bruised lips.
Just as he was about to dip his head and bite into the gentle curve of his lover’s neck, he heard Remus gasp out, ”Sirius. Not here. Please.”
Yet again pulling himself away, Sirius looked at Remus with unfettered frustration.
Remus tried to resist from raising his hand to the stubbled cheek but failed. He replied between heavy breaths, “The others will be back soon.”
“I don’t give a flying damn,” Siirus grumbled.
“I do,” Remus replied with a small smile.
Sirius combed through his unruly hair with his fingers and rolled his eyes, “I know. I stopped, didn’t I?”
Remus pulled his hand away and the smile on his face grew wider. Some things, he knew with greater certainty had not changed with time.
Stepping away from Sirius, he looked for a distraction and found it immediately. He had not had a good look at the room since Sirius pulled him into his arms almost immediately on his arrival at Number 12, Grimmauld Place.
And small wonder that he could have actually ignored the flood of red and green in the dreary old place. A Christmas tree stood in the corner, right next to the Black’s family tree, blinking ironically with cheerful, colourful lights. Christmas wreaths hung from doors and windows, and a festive carpet was even laid out on the floor.
Phineas Nigellus Black is probably screaming from his grave. Or from his portraits, Remus thought with glee and breaking into what sounded suspiciously like giggles, he asked Sirius, “I thought we do not celebrate Christmas.”
“I thought you do,” Sirius frowned.
Remus’ grin softened. Wounding his arms around Sirius’ waist once more, he walked into the familiar warmth and laid his head on the latter’s shoulder. “I haven’t, for the longest time.”
Blinking against the sudden tears, he added softly, “There had been no reason to.”
“Whyever not?” Remus retorted while he put up the finishing touch to the Christmas decorations. “Christmas is just about the only time I love London.”
“The origin of the holiday, Moonie,” Sirius rolled his eyes and turned away to take in the ridiculously cheerful and festive atmosphere in the apartment they both shared. He obviously had no idea what he was in for when he coaxed Remus to stay with him that winter break - I should never make life-changing decisions after a copious amount of alcohol and most certainly not in the afterglow of fantastic love-making, he grumbled silently.
“I know,” Remus walked up to his partner and hugging him loosely around the waist, waited till he had Sirius’ full attention before breathing, “The season of peace, love and joy.”
The gentle smile on Remus’ face reminded Sirius again why he had asked his lover to join him for the season, but clearing his throat, he mumbled, “But still, witches and Christmas…”
“Sirius?” Remus interrupted and pulled himself closer to Sirius.
“Mmmm?” Sirius could not remember how many arguments he had lost in such a way.
“Look up?” Remus asked.
Sirius did and looked uncomprehendingly at the drapes of green on the ceiling.
Remus rolled his eyes and raising his hands, pulled Sirius’ face back to face his own. Leaning in, he kissed Sirius gently on the lips and whispered, “Mistletoe and Muggle customs.”
“Muggle customs?” Sirius replied in a slight daze.
“Muggle custom,” Remus replied softly, hopefully. “For a life time together.”
“We kiss under mistletoe?” Sirius frowned and looked up at the plant again. “Didn’t we use it for the last potion in Dark Arts class?”
Remus bowed his head and rested against Sirius’ shoulder in resignation. There were honestly some days when he wanted to strangle Sirius and hang him outside the apartment. “That was holly.”
“I would have sworn they look the same,” Sirius pondered, considering the plant again before looking back at Remus and planting a small kiss on the latter’s temple. “Why the mistletoe?”
“Do we need a reason?” Remus muttered miserably into Sirius’ shoulder.
“No,” Sirius considered while he pulled Remus away from him until their noses touched. “So why do we need the mistletoe?”
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Sirius kissed the corner of Remus’ lips subtly, before pulling his lover closer against him and reveled in sweet, long kiss. He had missed this - Merlin, how he had missed this - with a keen hunger not unlike a man’s need for a sip of water after a long drought. He felt the first, tentative touch of his lover’s tongue against his and immediately craved for more, gently licking the smooth underside, and inviting the nearly foreign intrusion into his own mouth. He wound his hands around Remus and slipping his hands underneath the latter’s sweater, began to deepen the kiss.
It was a long while before they parted, and even then, Sirius had not had his fill. Stepping reluctantly apart from Remus, he waited as they both tried to catch their breaths and looked at his lover with no little wonder. He is so beautiful, Sirius thought as he leaned in and raised his lips to the close eyelids. Dropping the softest of kisses on one eyelid, before the other, he ran his lips down Remus’ nose, pausing to plant a kiss on the bruised lips.
Just as he was about to dip his head and bite into the gentle curve of his lover’s neck, he heard Remus gasp out, ”Sirius. Not here. Please.”
Yet again pulling himself away, Sirius looked at Remus with unfettered frustration.
Remus tried to resist from raising his hand to the stubbled cheek but failed. He replied between heavy breaths, “The others will be back soon.”
“I don’t give a flying damn,” Siirus grumbled.
“I do,” Remus replied with a small smile.
Sirius combed through his unruly hair with his fingers and rolled his eyes, “I know. I stopped, didn’t I?”
Remus pulled his hand away and the smile on his face grew wider. Some things, he knew with greater certainty had not changed with time.
Stepping away from Sirius, he looked for a distraction and found it immediately. He had not had a good look at the room since Sirius pulled him into his arms almost immediately on his arrival at Number 12, Grimmauld Place.
And small wonder that he could have actually ignored the flood of red and green in the dreary old place. A Christmas tree stood in the corner, right next to the Black’s family tree, blinking ironically with cheerful, colourful lights. Christmas wreaths hung from doors and windows, and a festive carpet was even laid out on the floor.
Phineas Nigellus Black is probably screaming from his grave. Or from his portraits, Remus thought with glee and breaking into what sounded suspiciously like giggles, he asked Sirius, “I thought we do not celebrate Christmas.”
“I thought you do,” Sirius frowned.
Remus’ grin softened. Wounding his arms around Sirius’ waist once more, he walked into the familiar warmth and laid his head on the latter’s shoulder. “I haven’t, for the longest time.”
Blinking against the sudden tears, he added softly, “There had been no reason to.”