Fic: A Midnight Clear for chiralove
Title: A Midnight Clear
Author/Artist: onehundredmoons
Recipient: chiralove
Rating: All ages
Contents or warnings: None
Word count: 1,000
Summary: And man, at war with man, hears not the love-song which they bring; O hush the noise, ye men of strife, and hear the angels sing.
Notes: chiralove, I hope you are having a lovely holiday season and that this makes you smile!
Tea, vegan scones and heaps of thanks to lyras for the thoughtful beta. The full text of "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear," which was the inspiration for this story, can be found here.
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring;
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing.
“I’m tired, Moony.” Sirius’ statement was muffled in the pillow of Remus’ couch, which served to underscore his point. Remus smiled into the paper he was grading; war or not, he had work on Monday. He put down his red pen and gazed unabashedly at the back of Sirius’ head.
“I’m tired too, but I’ve got to finish these. Close your eyes for a bit, why don’t you? I’m not going anywhere.”
His words were wasted. Sirius was already snuffling softly, a bit of the dog coming through in his snore. These unplanned crashes at Remus’ flat were starting to seem less than accidental. Weeks had passed since the night they’d come back here from a tedious Order mission that had left them both exhausted. They’d fallen asleep on opposite sides of the scratchy couch, lights and shoes still on. Following that evening, Remus had found himself in Sirius’ company with increasing frequency. They’d decorated the Christmas tree together, shared several dinners, and Sirius had even left quite a few odd articles of clothing lying around the flat. It felt a bit like being back at school, but without James and Peter and the safely fraternal air of the dormitory.
Remus spent a lot of time trying not to question just how else things were different now, and if they were different for Sirius as well. Thinking about it too much might lead him to do something that would make Sirius get up and leave the couch for good. A year out of school, he missed being with Sirius all the time. His feelings may have been unrequited, but Remus was happy to go on this way if it meant he could wake up in the morning with the person he had wanted to be with for so long.
He finished the papers and sent them wordlessly into his briefcase, which sported shiny gold lettering Sirius had insisted on adding just the other day. The room was cozily lit by fairy lights in midair and electric strings of bulbs across the mantle, which Remus left on. He considered keeping his glasses on as well so it would look as though he’d fallen asleep unexpectedly but decided to remove them in the end. After all, he could just as well have taken them off in the middle of the night, he reasoned. Even in his heightened emotional state, he realized that these rationalizations were ridiculous. Perhaps this is what being in love does to a person, he told himself.
Slouching low into his corner, he allowed himself to press one sock-clad foot against Sirius’ leg. Sirius murmured and shivered. It would be too deliberate to throw a blanket over the both of them, Remus thought. He warmed the air with his wand, said a little prayer of thanks to the heavens, and closed his eyes.
At midnight, Remus awoke to a gentle tugging on his arm. Sirius’ warm hand was wrapped around his wrist, and it felt softer than he ever had imagined.
“Remus,” Sirius whispered hoarsely, though they were quite alone, “I’m too old to kip on the couch.”
Had Sirius been any other person, Remus would have asked him what the hell he’d been doing then, falling asleep there for the better part of the last fortnight. But inspiring Sirius to reconsider this newfound practice wasn’t what Remus wanted at all. He swallowed thickly and turned to look into Sirius’ face, feeling suddenly very alert.
Sirius was rumpled, his hair slightly askew in a style more reminiscent of James. The top buttons of his shirt were undone. His appearance reminded Remus of the mornings following the full moon, when after hours of adventure they’d don wrinkled clothes that had spent the night piled on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. Remus was sure James or Peter had caught him watching Sirius dress on more than one occasion. It was awkward times like those that made him into the overly cautious man he’d become.
Sirius added a second arm to his efforts, pulling Remus up to stand. “Come on. How long are we going to go on like this?” His hands circled Remus’ own and stayed there.
Remus’ mouth fell open slightly. Sirius’ actions seemed deliberate, which sent his heart soaring somewhere into the vicinity of his Adam’s apple. “Are we talking about sleeping on the couch?” He felt absurd asking, but this was too important to misunderstand.
Sirius smiled, a familiar glint in his eye. “There’s a war on, Moony. You have a job. Prongs is going to be a father, for the love of all things holy. I don’t want to sleep on the couch. I want to sleep in your bed - with you.”
Too surprised by this confession to feel relief just yet, Remus reached for the fabric of Sirius’ shirt, grasping it - it felt real and warm and Sirius’ skin was just on the other side. “All these years, I thought -”
“I know you did. I’ve been trying to show you, to let you know.”
Remus lowered a hand to Sirius’ waist, near the leather of his belt. Testing, he sent a thumb under the shirt to caress the soft skin of Sirius’ side. As he wondered if this could really possibly be happening, Sirius pulled him into an embrace.
The nervous lump that had been pulsing somewhere between Remus’ throat and his heart faded with every shaky breath taken in. The scent of Sirius’ skin, the hardness of their collarbones pressed together, the softness of his hair between Remus’ fingers - he couldn’t get enough of it. “So you do mean this,” he said, breathing into Sirius’ neck. “I’ll kill you if you don’t mean it, you know.” He placed a kiss just under an ear.
Sirius sank his head lower onto Remus’ shoulder. He nodded, and squeezed tightly.
Author/Artist: onehundredmoons
Recipient: chiralove
Rating: All ages
Contents or warnings: None
Word count: 1,000
Summary: And man, at war with man, hears not the love-song which they bring; O hush the noise, ye men of strife, and hear the angels sing.
Notes: chiralove, I hope you are having a lovely holiday season and that this makes you smile!
Tea, vegan scones and heaps of thanks to lyras for the thoughtful beta. The full text of "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear," which was the inspiration for this story, can be found here.
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring;
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing.
“I’m tired, Moony.” Sirius’ statement was muffled in the pillow of Remus’ couch, which served to underscore his point. Remus smiled into the paper he was grading; war or not, he had work on Monday. He put down his red pen and gazed unabashedly at the back of Sirius’ head.
“I’m tired too, but I’ve got to finish these. Close your eyes for a bit, why don’t you? I’m not going anywhere.”
His words were wasted. Sirius was already snuffling softly, a bit of the dog coming through in his snore. These unplanned crashes at Remus’ flat were starting to seem less than accidental. Weeks had passed since the night they’d come back here from a tedious Order mission that had left them both exhausted. They’d fallen asleep on opposite sides of the scratchy couch, lights and shoes still on. Following that evening, Remus had found himself in Sirius’ company with increasing frequency. They’d decorated the Christmas tree together, shared several dinners, and Sirius had even left quite a few odd articles of clothing lying around the flat. It felt a bit like being back at school, but without James and Peter and the safely fraternal air of the dormitory.
Remus spent a lot of time trying not to question just how else things were different now, and if they were different for Sirius as well. Thinking about it too much might lead him to do something that would make Sirius get up and leave the couch for good. A year out of school, he missed being with Sirius all the time. His feelings may have been unrequited, but Remus was happy to go on this way if it meant he could wake up in the morning with the person he had wanted to be with for so long.
He finished the papers and sent them wordlessly into his briefcase, which sported shiny gold lettering Sirius had insisted on adding just the other day. The room was cozily lit by fairy lights in midair and electric strings of bulbs across the mantle, which Remus left on. He considered keeping his glasses on as well so it would look as though he’d fallen asleep unexpectedly but decided to remove them in the end. After all, he could just as well have taken them off in the middle of the night, he reasoned. Even in his heightened emotional state, he realized that these rationalizations were ridiculous. Perhaps this is what being in love does to a person, he told himself.
Slouching low into his corner, he allowed himself to press one sock-clad foot against Sirius’ leg. Sirius murmured and shivered. It would be too deliberate to throw a blanket over the both of them, Remus thought. He warmed the air with his wand, said a little prayer of thanks to the heavens, and closed his eyes.
At midnight, Remus awoke to a gentle tugging on his arm. Sirius’ warm hand was wrapped around his wrist, and it felt softer than he ever had imagined.
“Remus,” Sirius whispered hoarsely, though they were quite alone, “I’m too old to kip on the couch.”
Had Sirius been any other person, Remus would have asked him what the hell he’d been doing then, falling asleep there for the better part of the last fortnight. But inspiring Sirius to reconsider this newfound practice wasn’t what Remus wanted at all. He swallowed thickly and turned to look into Sirius’ face, feeling suddenly very alert.
Sirius was rumpled, his hair slightly askew in a style more reminiscent of James. The top buttons of his shirt were undone. His appearance reminded Remus of the mornings following the full moon, when after hours of adventure they’d don wrinkled clothes that had spent the night piled on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. Remus was sure James or Peter had caught him watching Sirius dress on more than one occasion. It was awkward times like those that made him into the overly cautious man he’d become.
Sirius added a second arm to his efforts, pulling Remus up to stand. “Come on. How long are we going to go on like this?” His hands circled Remus’ own and stayed there.
Remus’ mouth fell open slightly. Sirius’ actions seemed deliberate, which sent his heart soaring somewhere into the vicinity of his Adam’s apple. “Are we talking about sleeping on the couch?” He felt absurd asking, but this was too important to misunderstand.
Sirius smiled, a familiar glint in his eye. “There’s a war on, Moony. You have a job. Prongs is going to be a father, for the love of all things holy. I don’t want to sleep on the couch. I want to sleep in your bed - with you.”
Too surprised by this confession to feel relief just yet, Remus reached for the fabric of Sirius’ shirt, grasping it - it felt real and warm and Sirius’ skin was just on the other side. “All these years, I thought -”
“I know you did. I’ve been trying to show you, to let you know.”
Remus lowered a hand to Sirius’ waist, near the leather of his belt. Testing, he sent a thumb under the shirt to caress the soft skin of Sirius’ side. As he wondered if this could really possibly be happening, Sirius pulled him into an embrace.
The nervous lump that had been pulsing somewhere between Remus’ throat and his heart faded with every shaky breath taken in. The scent of Sirius’ skin, the hardness of their collarbones pressed together, the softness of his hair between Remus’ fingers - he couldn’t get enough of it. “So you do mean this,” he said, breathing into Sirius’ neck. “I’ll kill you if you don’t mean it, you know.” He placed a kiss just under an ear.
Sirius sank his head lower onto Remus’ shoulder. He nodded, and squeezed tightly.