FIC: Wrap Me Up [Remus/Sirius]
Title: Wrap Me Up
Author: SNAX0
Prompt: # O40: Indoor Picnic
Pairing(s): Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 1,270.
Rating: PG-13.
Warning(s): OotP era, very light angst, hurt/comfort.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thank you to S. for the quick beta and the mods for running the fest.
Summary: Remus and Sirius share a moment of peace.
Sirius’ bad mood is far from a surprise.
With things the way they are, Remus can’t blame him. He knows how much Sirius detests Grimmauld Place, knows how hard it must be for him to stay cooped up inside all day. He knows the house is filled with ghosts, with history; knows that Sirius must be reminded of something he’d rather forget every time he so much as opens his eyes.
With all of this in mind, Remus sets out to give him a spot of momentary calm; to give him one good memory to counter all the bad. He feels rather ridiculous doing it, but. Well. He thinks it’ll be worthwhile.
He’d returned from a mission two days ago, a fortnight long visit up north. Dumbledore had asked him to gather as much information on Greyback’s pack as he could, and so Remus had; mingling with people he’d otherwise never talk to.
When he’d come back to Grimmauld Place, Sirius had been in a particularly foul mood. Molly had said he was refusing to leave his room, had suggested his poor temperament could be blamed both on the usual nonsense and the fact that he quite obviously missed you, dear.
Her words had been mirrored by Sirius himself, and so now here Remus is, working to make up for the absence. He knows it wasn’t his fault he’d had to go, but he still wants to do something. Still wants to reignite the spark that’s been missing.
"Padfoot." He stands just outside Sirius’ bedroom, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe. Sirius is lying flat on his stomach, a book Remus doesn’t recognise laid out in front of him. He grunts in answer, turning to look over his shoulder. "You busy?"
"You know I’m not." It’s sulky, but he looks interested. He shuts the book and sits to give Remus his full attention. "Why?"
"I’ve got…" Remus trails off with a sigh. He’s not quite sure how to put it. "Just come."
Sirius’ brow arches, but he shrugs, sliding off the bed and following him through the house. They end up in the hall that’s hardly used, standing in the doorway of a room that’s not been touched since they cleaned it out. Sirius is looking at him confused, but Remus just shushes his questions and opens the door.
Inside, the floor has been cleared, the furniture pushed against the walls. Remus has laid out a blanket for them to lie on, the material a classic tartan. Sitting atop the blanket is a picnic basket he’d had to transfigure, it’s insides filled with some of Sirius’ favourite foods. There are pillows, too, and flames crackling in the fireplace.
Closing the door behind them, Remus looks to Sirius. "Going outside for a picnic in January seemed like a bad idea," he explains, "but I thought this would work. It’s like ou-"
"-r first date," Sirius finishes for him.
Remus nods, thinking back to what a disaster that had been. He’d suggested going on a proper date, and Sirius had agreed; had said it was a great idea, had claimed they’d have loads of fun, that it was about bloody time they gave their relationship an appropriate start. Remus had been pleased, right up until Sirius had given him full control over the plans.
It’d been with no shortage of panic that he’d settled on a picnic. The plans had been run by James and Lily so many times he’d been surprised when they hadn’t just told him to piss off, but he’d eventually settled on something he thought they’d both enjoy.
Naturally, it had rained the day of. Not just a drizzle, either. Buckets of rain had pelted against the dorm windows, the sky a dark and stormy grey outside. Peter had hidden under his blanket at the thunder, Remus recalls, and James had almost jumped out of his skin when lightening had lit the room unexpectedly.
Going outside had been out of the question, so they’d had to improvise. Sirius had found them an abandoned classroom, and Remus had set everything out just like he would have had they been outside. He’d been disappointed, but Sirius had claimed to love it, so it hadn’t been a complete failure.
Now, Sirius is grinning at him. The big, fat grin that lights up his entire face, the one that makes his eyes sparkle. That makes him look incandescent. It’s the same expression Sirius had looked at him with all those years ago, the same expression Remus hasn’t seen in a long time. He feels exceptionally pleased with himself for bringing it back.
"You bloody romantic, Moony." Sirius leans forward just long enough to peck his mouth, and then he’s all but diving onto the blanket, settling down amongst the pillows and eagerly looking inside the basket.
Remus joins him, happy to see Sirius so excited. He helps Sirius set out the food, pulling pastries and sweets and a few sandwiches out from the basket. He’d brought a box of muggle chews back from his mission, and Sirius already has two popped in his mouth, the obnoxiously pink candy held between his teeth.
At the very bottom of the basket sits three blocks of chocolate, and Sirius holds them out in one hand, looking at him with a smirk. "You can never have too much," Remus says, because he knows what Sirius is going to say. It’s an age-old argument - the teasing an inside joke.
They eat until they’re full, until the basket is empty and Remus has to lie on his back to feel comfortable. Sirius is curled against his side, his cheek pressed to Remus’ chest. He nuzzles him in a way Remus knows means play with me hair, and so he does, long fingers threading through long black curls, fingertips massaging the scalp softly.
The fire is still going, warming their bodies against the cold outside. Sirius’ cheeks are tinged pink, and Remus knows his must look the same. Sirius has never been exceptionally well at thank yous, but the way he clings to Remus, the way his hand rests above his heartbeat, the way he goes out of his way to make sure they’re close-Remus knows he is.
"One day we’ll do this outside," Sirius murmurs, the words said like a promise. Remus smiles and hums, his hand still cradling through Sirius’ hair.
He feels light in a way he hasn’t for a long while, can tell my Sirius’ behaviour that the sentiment is shared. There is no war in this room, no impending threat. There is only the two of them, only the potential of a future and the love they have for each other.
It’s the perfect atmosphere to nap in, Remus thinks, but Sirius shifts against him just as his eyes start to shut, and in the next second Sirius is leaning over him. He has an elbow resting on either side of Remus, his face low enough that they breathe the same air
"Moony," Sirius whispers, mouth pulled in a half-grin. "You know what else we did on our first date?"
Of course I do, Remus thinks, but doesn’t say. Instead, he plays along. "What?"
Sirius moves closer still, his lips brushing Remus’ when he answers, "Snogged."
And then Sirius’ lips are on his own, soft and plush, and Remus is laughing as Sirius kisses him, laughing just like he had at sixteen. He can feel Sirius grinning against his mouth, too, the force of it almost rendering him incapable of kissing.
But kiss they do, and, well. It’s much better than a nap.
Author: SNAX0
Prompt: # O40: Indoor Picnic
Pairing(s): Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 1,270.
Rating: PG-13.
Warning(s): OotP era, very light angst, hurt/comfort.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thank you to S. for the quick beta and the mods for running the fest.
Summary: Remus and Sirius share a moment of peace.
Sirius’ bad mood is far from a surprise.
With things the way they are, Remus can’t blame him. He knows how much Sirius detests Grimmauld Place, knows how hard it must be for him to stay cooped up inside all day. He knows the house is filled with ghosts, with history; knows that Sirius must be reminded of something he’d rather forget every time he so much as opens his eyes.
With all of this in mind, Remus sets out to give him a spot of momentary calm; to give him one good memory to counter all the bad. He feels rather ridiculous doing it, but. Well. He thinks it’ll be worthwhile.
He’d returned from a mission two days ago, a fortnight long visit up north. Dumbledore had asked him to gather as much information on Greyback’s pack as he could, and so Remus had; mingling with people he’d otherwise never talk to.
When he’d come back to Grimmauld Place, Sirius had been in a particularly foul mood. Molly had said he was refusing to leave his room, had suggested his poor temperament could be blamed both on the usual nonsense and the fact that he quite obviously missed you, dear.
Her words had been mirrored by Sirius himself, and so now here Remus is, working to make up for the absence. He knows it wasn’t his fault he’d had to go, but he still wants to do something. Still wants to reignite the spark that’s been missing.
"Padfoot." He stands just outside Sirius’ bedroom, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe. Sirius is lying flat on his stomach, a book Remus doesn’t recognise laid out in front of him. He grunts in answer, turning to look over his shoulder. "You busy?"
"You know I’m not." It’s sulky, but he looks interested. He shuts the book and sits to give Remus his full attention. "Why?"
"I’ve got…" Remus trails off with a sigh. He’s not quite sure how to put it. "Just come."
Sirius’ brow arches, but he shrugs, sliding off the bed and following him through the house. They end up in the hall that’s hardly used, standing in the doorway of a room that’s not been touched since they cleaned it out. Sirius is looking at him confused, but Remus just shushes his questions and opens the door.
Inside, the floor has been cleared, the furniture pushed against the walls. Remus has laid out a blanket for them to lie on, the material a classic tartan. Sitting atop the blanket is a picnic basket he’d had to transfigure, it’s insides filled with some of Sirius’ favourite foods. There are pillows, too, and flames crackling in the fireplace.
Closing the door behind them, Remus looks to Sirius. "Going outside for a picnic in January seemed like a bad idea," he explains, "but I thought this would work. It’s like ou-"
"-r first date," Sirius finishes for him.
Remus nods, thinking back to what a disaster that had been. He’d suggested going on a proper date, and Sirius had agreed; had said it was a great idea, had claimed they’d have loads of fun, that it was about bloody time they gave their relationship an appropriate start. Remus had been pleased, right up until Sirius had given him full control over the plans.
It’d been with no shortage of panic that he’d settled on a picnic. The plans had been run by James and Lily so many times he’d been surprised when they hadn’t just told him to piss off, but he’d eventually settled on something he thought they’d both enjoy.
Naturally, it had rained the day of. Not just a drizzle, either. Buckets of rain had pelted against the dorm windows, the sky a dark and stormy grey outside. Peter had hidden under his blanket at the thunder, Remus recalls, and James had almost jumped out of his skin when lightening had lit the room unexpectedly.
Going outside had been out of the question, so they’d had to improvise. Sirius had found them an abandoned classroom, and Remus had set everything out just like he would have had they been outside. He’d been disappointed, but Sirius had claimed to love it, so it hadn’t been a complete failure.
Now, Sirius is grinning at him. The big, fat grin that lights up his entire face, the one that makes his eyes sparkle. That makes him look incandescent. It’s the same expression Sirius had looked at him with all those years ago, the same expression Remus hasn’t seen in a long time. He feels exceptionally pleased with himself for bringing it back.
"You bloody romantic, Moony." Sirius leans forward just long enough to peck his mouth, and then he’s all but diving onto the blanket, settling down amongst the pillows and eagerly looking inside the basket.
Remus joins him, happy to see Sirius so excited. He helps Sirius set out the food, pulling pastries and sweets and a few sandwiches out from the basket. He’d brought a box of muggle chews back from his mission, and Sirius already has two popped in his mouth, the obnoxiously pink candy held between his teeth.
At the very bottom of the basket sits three blocks of chocolate, and Sirius holds them out in one hand, looking at him with a smirk. "You can never have too much," Remus says, because he knows what Sirius is going to say. It’s an age-old argument - the teasing an inside joke.
They eat until they’re full, until the basket is empty and Remus has to lie on his back to feel comfortable. Sirius is curled against his side, his cheek pressed to Remus’ chest. He nuzzles him in a way Remus knows means play with me hair, and so he does, long fingers threading through long black curls, fingertips massaging the scalp softly.
The fire is still going, warming their bodies against the cold outside. Sirius’ cheeks are tinged pink, and Remus knows his must look the same. Sirius has never been exceptionally well at thank yous, but the way he clings to Remus, the way his hand rests above his heartbeat, the way he goes out of his way to make sure they’re close-Remus knows he is.
"One day we’ll do this outside," Sirius murmurs, the words said like a promise. Remus smiles and hums, his hand still cradling through Sirius’ hair.
He feels light in a way he hasn’t for a long while, can tell my Sirius’ behaviour that the sentiment is shared. There is no war in this room, no impending threat. There is only the two of them, only the potential of a future and the love they have for each other.
It’s the perfect atmosphere to nap in, Remus thinks, but Sirius shifts against him just as his eyes start to shut, and in the next second Sirius is leaning over him. He has an elbow resting on either side of Remus, his face low enough that they breathe the same air
"Moony," Sirius whispers, mouth pulled in a half-grin. "You know what else we did on our first date?"
Of course I do, Remus thinks, but doesn’t say. Instead, he plays along. "What?"
Sirius moves closer still, his lips brushing Remus’ when he answers, "Snogged."
And then Sirius’ lips are on his own, soft and plush, and Remus is laughing as Sirius kisses him, laughing just like he had at sixteen. He can feel Sirius grinning against his mouth, too, the force of it almost rendering him incapable of kissing.
But kiss they do, and, well. It’s much better than a nap.