Blood and Chocolate
Summary: It's Christmas time, and Yule Logs are eaten.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Flangst!
Author's Notelet: And no, I haven't read the book. Yet.
Sirius Black has a smile that could stun a first-year at a hundred paces. He is the most beautiful thing in the Gryffindor Common Room late at night, staring moodily into the fire, and he is never lost for words.
And Remus Lupin is not in love with him. This is where everything falls down.
"You're a great mate, you know, Sirius," he'd said. A great mate. A great mate. A great mate.
Mate: colloq. noun. Friend. Someone with whom you have a platonic relationship. Someone who you should not think about kissing, or touching, or marrying. Someone who is not in love with you.
Definitely not. He sighs, and turns away from the fire.
At least he still has his dreams.
------
Remus stares at the Christmas tree. It twinkles. He has the feeling it is Dumbledore in disguise, but he doesn't know why...
He shakes his head to clear it. Sleepless nights are taking their toll, and he is not concentrating as well as he could be. Should be, he reminds himself sharply, gazing helplessly at the undone Transfiguration homework that lies before him.
It's all Sirius' fault, he realises. If he hadn't started that prank with the house-elves and the turkey... but he shouldn't have gone along with it. Prefect, meant to be the responsible one, but he knows he isn't, not when it comes to Sirius.
Sirius can make him do anything. That's the price of being crazy about someone, you lose control, and Remus hates doing that. Needs control, craves it. Can't lose himself in the moment, because then he wouldn't be there to control... the other. The part that isn't him, which always needs looking after, caring for and restraining in equal measures. The part which wants to kill every first-year that he meets (however, after a few too many dungbombs thrown in corridors, every part of him has a little of this in). So maybe being in love with Sirius is the worst thing he could ever do.
It doesn't feel like it. He sighs, and turns away from his thoughts.
Transmogrification spells. Right.
------
Sirius sighs in his sleep and turns over. He's dreaming, of course.
There's Remus, always. Not a surprise any more. He's smiling gently as Sirius is flying around the common room on his broomstick, grinning and waving. He needs to get his attention. It's important to make him see, get his attention-
"Sirius?" He didn't think James had been in the room in this dream, but he carried on nevertheless.
"Sirius? Wake up, you idiot." Sirius bites his tongue, and the pain wakes him up rather than the shout.
"Jameth..." he mumbles into his pillow. "I need to tell Moony- shh! I need it to work-"
"Sirius, you daft bugger, you're asleep, you're dreaming, you don't need to tell Remus anything but what you do need to do is to get out of your bloody bed because I have the best prank ever invented planned in my head."
Sometime during this speech, Sirius had woken up. However, he is not particularly happy about it.
"I don't care if it's the best plan in the entire universe, I want to bloody sleep, alright?"
"Just because you want to go on fantasising about Moony, you want to miss out on the chance to turn all of Snivellus' clothes into tinsel?"
Sirius looks up.
"You didn't tell me that part."
"Trust me next time."
"Count me in."
------
Remus cuts a slice of yule log, feeling rather guilty as he does so. Celebrating Christmas alone is... wrong somehow. Especially when it hasn't arrived yet, but he can't resist the sweetness and the memories.
He eats it off the knife, the searing edge just meeting with his tongue. Blood for the wolf, chocolate for the boy.
Blood and chocolate. (lick)
Adventure and comfort. (lick)
Metal and felt. (lick)
Remus and Remus. (lick)
Sirius and Sirius. (lick)
Remus and Sirius. (lick)
Sirius and Remus. (lick)
Blood and Remus. (lick)
Sirius and chocolate. (choke)
Best not to think about that. Especially not when I'm supposed to be working.
It's rather depressing, really. He's meant to be getting ready for the end-of-term feast and instead, here he is, scribbling notes about something he doesn't understand, eating something he shouldn't be and fantasising about someone who he could never have.
Probably.
Because Sirius isn't in love with him. Except that he might be.
Remus is really tired of unquenchable optimism.
------
"James?" hisses Sirius, trying not to bang his head on the low ceiling of this rather improbable tunnel.
"What?" James is now in a bad mood. His plans rarely go wrong, but this seems to be one of those times.
"Do you think Remus would go out with me if I asked him?" The other boy turns around, incredulous.
"How can you be thinking about your lovelife at a time like this?"
Sirius shrugs. "Because otherwise I'd have to think about the gang of seventh-year Slytherins standing outside, looking for us?"
"Fair enough. I really don't know. Might not be a good idea to try, though."
"Why not?"
"Must I point out the obvious? Yes, I suppose I must. You don't want to scare the poor boy. He's already got his secrets which he doesn't want to tell us - you don't want him thinking you're going to jump him, do you?"
"No, I suppose not." He exhales slowly. "Fine."
"Glad to see you've seen reason. Now, when we get to the door over there, we need to open it quickly and run like buggery until we get to the Slytherin Common Room. Under the cloak, obviously. Right?"
"Right."
------
Remus returns to the dormitory late that night. He is a little surprised to find it deserted, but assumes Sirius and James are up to something. They usually are.
He curls into a ball in his sheets and waits for the morning.
------
"Remus! It's Christmas!" James is sitting on the end of his bed. On his feet, to be precise.
"Humbug." Although it is nice to be reminded.
"Even Scrooge was happy by Christmas day," Sirius replies, bounding over from his pile of presents (which, Remus notes with a certain degree of envy, is considerably larger than his), and wriggling under the covers next to him.
"Any idiot who goes around with 'merry christmas' on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart."
"Hear, hear!" calls Peter from across the dormitory.
"Grump," comments James lazily, stretching.
"Here, open mine first!" Sirius thrusts a garishly-wrapped present into the blond boy's hands, beaming.
Remus opens it carefully. There's silver paper, and then brown, and then...
"Chocolate! Is it your favourite?" Sirius is looking rather like a puppy. One that's just about to run into something due to hyperactivity.
"Yes, it is." He opens it slowly, breaks off just one chunk and places it on his tongue, letting it melt. He loves it.
Sirius grins even more widely. "I'm glad. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you too."
"You have another present, too."
"Oh?"
Sirius leans over, takes a square of chocolate and eats it quickly.
"Yes."
The kiss is sticky, and chocolatey, and awkward, and warm, and a little slimy. Remus can taste blood in Sirius' mouth.
Blood and chocolate.
And it is perfect.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Flangst!
Author's Notelet: And no, I haven't read the book. Yet.
Sirius Black has a smile that could stun a first-year at a hundred paces. He is the most beautiful thing in the Gryffindor Common Room late at night, staring moodily into the fire, and he is never lost for words.
And Remus Lupin is not in love with him. This is where everything falls down.
"You're a great mate, you know, Sirius," he'd said. A great mate. A great mate. A great mate.
Mate: colloq. noun. Friend. Someone with whom you have a platonic relationship. Someone who you should not think about kissing, or touching, or marrying. Someone who is not in love with you.
Definitely not. He sighs, and turns away from the fire.
At least he still has his dreams.
------
Remus stares at the Christmas tree. It twinkles. He has the feeling it is Dumbledore in disguise, but he doesn't know why...
He shakes his head to clear it. Sleepless nights are taking their toll, and he is not concentrating as well as he could be. Should be, he reminds himself sharply, gazing helplessly at the undone Transfiguration homework that lies before him.
It's all Sirius' fault, he realises. If he hadn't started that prank with the house-elves and the turkey... but he shouldn't have gone along with it. Prefect, meant to be the responsible one, but he knows he isn't, not when it comes to Sirius.
Sirius can make him do anything. That's the price of being crazy about someone, you lose control, and Remus hates doing that. Needs control, craves it. Can't lose himself in the moment, because then he wouldn't be there to control... the other. The part that isn't him, which always needs looking after, caring for and restraining in equal measures. The part which wants to kill every first-year that he meets (however, after a few too many dungbombs thrown in corridors, every part of him has a little of this in). So maybe being in love with Sirius is the worst thing he could ever do.
It doesn't feel like it. He sighs, and turns away from his thoughts.
Transmogrification spells. Right.
------
Sirius sighs in his sleep and turns over. He's dreaming, of course.
There's Remus, always. Not a surprise any more. He's smiling gently as Sirius is flying around the common room on his broomstick, grinning and waving. He needs to get his attention. It's important to make him see, get his attention-
"Sirius?" He didn't think James had been in the room in this dream, but he carried on nevertheless.
"Sirius? Wake up, you idiot." Sirius bites his tongue, and the pain wakes him up rather than the shout.
"Jameth..." he mumbles into his pillow. "I need to tell Moony- shh! I need it to work-"
"Sirius, you daft bugger, you're asleep, you're dreaming, you don't need to tell Remus anything but what you do need to do is to get out of your bloody bed because I have the best prank ever invented planned in my head."
Sometime during this speech, Sirius had woken up. However, he is not particularly happy about it.
"I don't care if it's the best plan in the entire universe, I want to bloody sleep, alright?"
"Just because you want to go on fantasising about Moony, you want to miss out on the chance to turn all of Snivellus' clothes into tinsel?"
Sirius looks up.
"You didn't tell me that part."
"Trust me next time."
"Count me in."
------
Remus cuts a slice of yule log, feeling rather guilty as he does so. Celebrating Christmas alone is... wrong somehow. Especially when it hasn't arrived yet, but he can't resist the sweetness and the memories.
He eats it off the knife, the searing edge just meeting with his tongue. Blood for the wolf, chocolate for the boy.
Blood and chocolate. (lick)
Adventure and comfort. (lick)
Metal and felt. (lick)
Remus and Remus. (lick)
Sirius and Sirius. (lick)
Remus and Sirius. (lick)
Sirius and Remus. (lick)
Blood and Remus. (lick)
Sirius and chocolate. (choke)
Best not to think about that. Especially not when I'm supposed to be working.
It's rather depressing, really. He's meant to be getting ready for the end-of-term feast and instead, here he is, scribbling notes about something he doesn't understand, eating something he shouldn't be and fantasising about someone who he could never have.
Probably.
Because Sirius isn't in love with him. Except that he might be.
Remus is really tired of unquenchable optimism.
------
"James?" hisses Sirius, trying not to bang his head on the low ceiling of this rather improbable tunnel.
"What?" James is now in a bad mood. His plans rarely go wrong, but this seems to be one of those times.
"Do you think Remus would go out with me if I asked him?" The other boy turns around, incredulous.
"How can you be thinking about your lovelife at a time like this?"
Sirius shrugs. "Because otherwise I'd have to think about the gang of seventh-year Slytherins standing outside, looking for us?"
"Fair enough. I really don't know. Might not be a good idea to try, though."
"Why not?"
"Must I point out the obvious? Yes, I suppose I must. You don't want to scare the poor boy. He's already got his secrets which he doesn't want to tell us - you don't want him thinking you're going to jump him, do you?"
"No, I suppose not." He exhales slowly. "Fine."
"Glad to see you've seen reason. Now, when we get to the door over there, we need to open it quickly and run like buggery until we get to the Slytherin Common Room. Under the cloak, obviously. Right?"
"Right."
------
Remus returns to the dormitory late that night. He is a little surprised to find it deserted, but assumes Sirius and James are up to something. They usually are.
He curls into a ball in his sheets and waits for the morning.
------
"Remus! It's Christmas!" James is sitting on the end of his bed. On his feet, to be precise.
"Humbug." Although it is nice to be reminded.
"Even Scrooge was happy by Christmas day," Sirius replies, bounding over from his pile of presents (which, Remus notes with a certain degree of envy, is considerably larger than his), and wriggling under the covers next to him.
"Any idiot who goes around with 'merry christmas' on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart."
"Hear, hear!" calls Peter from across the dormitory.
"Grump," comments James lazily, stretching.
"Here, open mine first!" Sirius thrusts a garishly-wrapped present into the blond boy's hands, beaming.
Remus opens it carefully. There's silver paper, and then brown, and then...
"Chocolate! Is it your favourite?" Sirius is looking rather like a puppy. One that's just about to run into something due to hyperactivity.
"Yes, it is." He opens it slowly, breaks off just one chunk and places it on his tongue, letting it melt. He loves it.
Sirius grins even more widely. "I'm glad. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you too."
"You have another present, too."
"Oh?"
Sirius leans over, takes a square of chocolate and eats it quickly.
"Yes."
The kiss is sticky, and chocolatey, and awkward, and warm, and a little slimy. Remus can taste blood in Sirius' mouth.
Blood and chocolate.
And it is perfect.