"our love is like an oasis
when our gazes intertwine
my heart climbs up
the staircase of paradise."
-via wander owl

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London, December 1978

Sirius looked up from his place next to the Christmas tree at the sound of the doorbell, his fingers parting the curtain of hair that had fallen in his face. He watched carefully as a flustered and busy Lily Evans weaved in and out of the sea of bodies, laughing as she passed the punchline of a joke or making one herself, and answered the door. Sirius couldn't tell who it had been that who'd entered, couldn't hear the holiday greeting from the other side of the room, and couldn't allow himself to slip into ease until he'd known it was him who entered. Of course, it hadn't been, and he returned to his thoughts as his friends bickered amongst themselves.

Sirius sipped his wine tastefully, looking around as they squabbled. The living room was alive with movement and laughter, the aroma of Lily's honey-glazed ham filling the flat. A fire roared near him, crackling with weak wood and old pine needles James collected from the park nearby. Lights were strung up on the walls, ornaments clinking beside him as Frank adjusted the tree with Alice. Between the shuffling feet, both bare and covered, Sirius could pick out the trail of snow from the threshold of the door.

If you asked him, Christmas was a waste of a holiday and a waste of good money. Muggles spent an entire month, sometimes more, decorating their houses with obnoxious, blinking lights and candy canes that smelled too strongly for some fictional man to bring them validation in the form of gifts. The same songs played over the radio in shopping departments and supercenters; he couldn't get any grocery shopping done without hearing some lady rock around a tree. If that hadn't been enough, they threw these ridiculous parties in flats that were too small with not enough food to dream of feeding the occupants, records that skipped too often to be enjoyed, and Sirius was sure that if one more person did decide to show up the floor would cave in.

Being Muggle-Born, Lily was happy to throw a small get together for her friends. James was obliged to do anything that made Lily happy in the hopes that she'd agree to move in with him, and Sirius was sure this final act would seal the deal. In ways, Sirius hated it; he hated seeing everyone so damn joyful and carefree, so absent-minded and content in this blip of a moment. It was hard for him to shake the war from his mind, and he envied the others' ability to do so. If he could sit around the fire with Remus as he told stories of the Order training, he would do it. If he could help Lily in the kitchen with her cooking, he would do it. If he could join James for a drink, he would do it.

However, he found himself glued to his seat by the fire, unable to do much at all because the sense of unease and impending doom seemed to follow him around no matter where he went. This Christmas party wouldn't be any different, he'd told himself. He needed to remain vigilant, he told himself. In the back of his mind, like a nagging little parasite that never left him the fuck alone, Moody's voice barked orders at him. Find the exits, find the entries, find the weak spots, and find a defendable position. Always know your options, and never let the enemy get the upper hand. Not even clapping his hands over his ears or shouting different trains of thoughts could deter the bug, so he'd been stuck in a tense position by the Christmas tree that gave him a clear shot of all the windows and doors.

James clapped his hands together merrily, "I daresay, it is time to open our gifts!"

The crowd, and Sirius really considered it a crowd, hurried toward the sitting room, shoving themselves against each other on the sofas and floor, cheeks flushed with drink and laughter. Sirius let his eyes flit over to Remus, watching his tall figure situate himself in the back of the room like some looming shadow. Their eyes met momentarily, and Sirius wasn't quite sure what unspoken message had passed between them. It sent a jolt through his chest, a warmth, spreading to his fingers and toes; Remus flashed a weak smile, and looked away. Even though he couldn't read his mind with his wolfly powers, Sirius begged him to look at him once more.

Lily appeared in the room, taking her place under James' protective arm, and smiled, "I've put everyone's name into this bowl, and I'll draw them to see who opens their present first."

"How will we know who gave it to us," Benjy Fenwick, eye twitching rhythmically.

"That's where the fun comes in," Lily beamed. "You've got to guess which one of us gave it to you!"

Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes, mostly for Lily's sake, but also because James was watching him with a warning glare. His best friend knew how much he despised gift giving. Hell, he knew of Sirius' aversion to the holiday in general. However, he expected him to qualm his nerves for rest of his guests, and Sirius would oblige. Even if it did make him want to blow his brains out…

Lily fished her slim fingers around the bowl, manicured nails plucking out a thin slip of paper. She handed it to James, who then announced, "Edgar! You're up."

Edgar had once been hesitant to join their ranks. Their group was loud and rowdy, too rambunctious for a quiet soul and far too reckless for civilized folk, but, one could say, he'd grown quite fond of some of them. Sirius thought it had mostly been for Marlene's sake, however something had changed since their little graduation party. He joined them for the occasional brunch and attended the Order meetings every once in a while; Sirius didn't blame him for his caution, but he did blame him for his indecisiveness.

Upon unwrapping the gift, Edgar gasped at a sort of holster. It had a sheath for his wand, a few pockets for floo powder, and several other magical additions that even made Sirius slightly interested. As it turned out, Benjy had been the one to give this gift and smiled brightly when thanked.

Dorcas had gifted James a new broom cleaning kit, a gift he clearly enjoyed more than anything in the entire world, minus Lily, and vowed he would use it to its limits. Lily had gifted Marlene a few plants – some magical and others not – for her flat; Marlene was a gifted botanist, according to Dorcas, and nearly split her face in half with a smile Sirius had never known she was capable of. Benjy had managed to unwrap a box of sweets from Frank, gasping at the Language Lozenges he'd always wanted. For the remainder of the night, he spoke fluent Russian. Edgar had given Alice a new camera that looked, vaguely, like a Muggle edition Remus had once, but she didn't seem to mind in the slightest. In fact, she was delighted to see that, as soon as she took the picture, it popped out from the bottom! James surprised Caradoc with a limited-edition spell book; he needed to up his game if he wanted Moody's hounding to stop. He was thankful.

Sirius jumped to attention as Remus' name was called, watching carefully from beside the tree. When Lily had given him his assigned receiver, if he had to be honest, he was only a little peeved. If anyone knew Remus, it was Sirius, and she knew that. They'd known each other inside and out for year, and Sirius felt as though he deserved to give a gift given the way he'd been a complete ass that year. But no. Lily felt as though Alice would be the better choice; he frowned.

Remus, with his now healed fingers, carefully and strategically, unwrapped his present.

"Oh, just tear it off, Rem," Peter shouted.

Remus scowled half-heartedly, "Some of us are sophisticated, Wormtail."

"Sophisticated my arse," James snickered, but left him alone.

Remus smiled fondly down at the gift, not showing it immediately, but rather admiring it. Sirius felt his neck stretching; what had the bint gotten him that made him so happy? Chocolate? If Remus ate anymore chocolate he would become a diabetic. Besides, he'd been receiving chocolates for seven years; he didn't need anymore.

So it turned out, Alice had somehow come up with an old looking book about the size of a textbook. Sirius could bet that Remus already had that exact copy in his library at home and fought back a triumphant smirk. He knew how much Moony loved reading; the bloke went to the bookstore on his corner at least twice a week. If he hadn't bought their entire stock yet, he would by July.

"It's the Everlasting Book," Alice explained. "It's got all kinds of special charms on it, like unlimited pages and a huge choice of mundane and magical books. When you turn a page it keeps creating new pages in the direction you are turning while vanishing pages on the opposite end of the book."

Remus broke into a grin, "Can I write in it?"

"You can write with a dry quill," she nodded, "either on blank pages or add annotations to existing writing. The book will magically shift any previous writing to give you room to add your comments."

Everyone, even Sirius (though he hated to say so), was astonished at such a gift. None more than Remus, however, who looked so happy he could cry. Sirius felt a pang of joy despite not being the source of this delight. It'd been months since he'd seen him smile like that, looking so young and wild with glee, and he was afraid he'd never see it again.

They'd had their difference that year; Sirius wouldn't pretend otherwise. It was foolish to say that it was a necessary hardship because that just wasn't the truth. He'd been an utter shithead to Remus since the attack on London, and, for that, he didn't blame Remus's aversion to his company. Yet, in moments like this, Sirius could make-believe that their relationship hadn't been altered by his harsh, edged words. He could tell himself that things were how they used to be before they grew up. He could pretend that Remus' heart still belonged to him, and he'd be content with their silent agreement.

He smiled for him then, glad that Alice had given him something so special. After his year, Remus deserved it.

"Thank you so much, Al," Remus muttered. "I love it."

And like the spell had broken, the night moved on. Gifts were exchanged and thanks were given, but Sirius wasn't paying much attention to any of it. His attention had remained on Remus, watching him throw his head back in laughter as he chattered away with Benjy near the door. He observed him as his cheeks and ears grew red, how his lips perched on the cusp of his butterbeer, how his fingers ran through his long hair.

The last time he'd seen Remus look so content, if content was really the correct term, was before their final year. That summer spent at Lupin Cottage. The nights of stolen kisses and wandering hands. In a way, he missed that. No. He didn't just miss the sexual tension; it was temporary. He missed the way Remus looked at him in awe, like he'd hung the moon and the stars, not because he was wrapped up in the idea of himself, rather because there had been so much love in his eyes. So much adoration. So much emotion. Sirius missed the way Remus laughed at his jokes, the way he draped himself over Sirius' lap in the heat of summer.

He missed him.

They'd grown apart since the graduation party, Remus putting off any interaction with Sirius due to rain checks and busy afternoons. He spent most of his afternoons at his new job, avoiding Sirius at all costs, not that he blamed him much. He'd made an arse of himself lately, as he knew very well at this point. He'd tried making it up to him, but it would've appeared that he'd pulled the last straw for Remus and condemned himself to a life of a hermit with only Lily and James. Peter would come around, however it was no secret he preferred Remus to Sirius any day.

"Sirius," Lily called. "Your turn."

There was a look in her eye, one that made him wary. It was like she knew something no one else did, and he knew, then, that she'd been scheming. There was probably some prank in the box just waiting to attack him. Perhaps it would be a pixie to assault him or a doxy? Karma was coming to shove its foot up his arse for terrorizing Kreacher all those years. He cautiously took the box from Dorcas, eyeing Lily suspiciously as he unwrapped it.

He faltered. There were new brushes and a collection of oil pants that he knew he would love, but it wasn't what caught his attention.

It was a cherry wood palette just as Georgia O'Keeffe's. It was round and flat, sanded down and polished to near perfection so that the surface was as smooth as glass. He held it up for inspection, knowing that he loved it regardless of any other discrepancies he would never find. As he ran his fingers over the dips of the surface, he could imagine himself mixing colors and dipping his brushes into different shades. He smiled.

"What's that on the back," Cress asked, pointing to a small slip of paper taped to the bottom of the palette.

Sirius flipped it over and, in fact, found a parchment tied with a ribbon. Whoever had gifted this to him had gone out of their way to make this a gift to remember.

"Well," Marlene urged. "Are you going to read it?"

Sirius blinked dumbly at the sound of Remus' snickers, "Erm… yeah, sorry."

He unrolled it, finding familiar handwriting scrawling beautiful lines:

You say it's for the best
because the prosthetics in your chest
won't let you express or access
the feelings that would let us
coalesce under the candescent rays
of a summertime sunset.

Love,
Moony.

Sirius stared down at the now trembling parchment, hotness welling in the pits of his eyes. He breathed through his nose, ignoring the pain in his chest as he remembered how many people had been staring at him. He didn't want to cry in front of all of these people, didn't want to show weakness as it would make him too vulnerable in public. He kept his gaze down, hoping that conversation would fill the lifetimes of silence that echoed in his ears.

"Merry Christmas, love," he heard beside him, a soft hand coming down on his shoulder.

Sirius looked up, hoping that gravity wouldn't betray him and release the tears, and found bright, amber eyes gazing down on him with fondness. Without much thought, he found that his shaking fingers snaked through Remus', holding on for dear life.

A chorus of "awe's" rang through the flat, Lily clapping hysterically in James' arms, though neither of them really seemed to hear it. They were, once again, wrapped within each other, and were content on staying there for the remainder of the night. It was his chance to prove to Moony he'd been changing, that he'd been getting better with the help of Slade and Euphemia. Sirius wanted to show him that he would keep that promise.

"Why don't we eat," Peter suggested suddenly, earning a uniform agreement from all but two of the guests that night.

Everyone filed out of the room into the small dining area, yammering away about their gifts and extra appreciation, but Remus and Sirius remained in the sitting room.

"It's beautiful, Moony," Sirius said. "I don't know how I could ever –"

Remus put his hand over Sirius' mouth then, allowing himself a coy grin, "I don't expect you to repay me because this was your Christmas gift."

Knowing that he wouldn't get anywhere arguing with Remus (and secretly hoping to get back in his graces), he nodded begrudgingly and let his eyes fall back on the palette and paints. Now able to take a better look, he noted that the collection consisted mainly of purples and pinks, perfect for painting sunsets from his terrace. He also noted, rather quickly, that purple was Remus' favorite color and frowned.

Remus was everywhere, and he hated it. Sirius was reminded of him in the morning when he drank his tea; he found that, for several weeks after moving into his own townhouse, that he would always make a cup for Remus just in case he stopped in like he'd promised he would. He was reminded whenever he passed the old bookstore on the corner of Packard and Rowe that Remus would've adored. He was reminded in the evening as he ate takeout, ordering enough for two people in hopes that he had specific company.

"I know that you and I have been on distant terms lately," Remus began awkwardly, wringing his fingers in front of him, "but I want you to know I've missed having you around."

Sirius, feeling that flutter of hope rummaging in his chest, took a deep breath, "How come you've been avoiding me then?"

Remus looked down at his shoes bashfully – no – shamefully, and said, "I needed to get over you, Pads."

"Oh."

Sirius couldn't hide his disappointment, and fiddled with the packaging on the brushes. An uncomfortable silence fell over them, neither one sure what to say in the moment because, well, what could one say? Remus spoke first.

"It didn't work," he stated. "It never works, and it never will."

Sirius' neck nearly snapped as he looked at Remus, mouth ajar and hope spilling from his mouth before he could stop it.

"Moony, I have something to tell you," he uttered, but Remus laid a hand on his knee, giving him that look that Sirius hated.

"Don't say it until it's true," he told him plainly. "I'm not going anywhere this time, I promise."

"But," Sirius sputtered, "why would you stay if I didn't love you?"

"Well," Remus sighed, "I know you feel something for me, and I've decided I'd rather live with something than nothing at all. I'm sick of being sorry for myself because of all the times I didn't do what was necessary to make me happy."

Sirius felt heat creeping up his neck, a warmth spreading over his face, when he said, "What's necessary this time?"

Remus smiled warmly, letting his thumb rub circles into the fabric covering Sirius' knee, "You, stupid. When will you get it through that thick skull that it's you. Always has been, you git."

Sirius playfully swatted Remus' arm, "I'm not stupid, I'm just slow."

"Oh," Remus cackled, "I know that."

Sirius memorized the lines covering Remus' young face, the creases around his mouth from smiling too much so young, and the crow's feet in the corners of his eyes. He memorized the deepness of his voice, the rumbling in his chest as he laughed carelessly the way he used to. For a moment, Sirius had thought he'd never see it again, and the sound made his heart race.

Remus opened his eyes, watching something above their heads with confusion. Looking up, Sirius found that a plant of some sort had been sprouting in mid-air, leaves a deep green and berries looking so fresh they could burst.

"Don't eat it," Remus said then, clearly reading the interest on Sirius' face plain as day. "They make you sick."

"What is that," Sirius asked, reaching up and running a finger over the roughness of the leaves.

"Mistletoe," Remus replied distantly.

Sirius screwed his face up in confusion, "Why's it growing here?"

"Not a clue."

"What does it mean," Sirius asked then, looking back down at Remus with wide eyes.

Remus was watching him in a way he couldn't decipher. It was a mixture of fondness, heart ache, and longing – too many things to be labeled by a single word. There were too many things within Remus to be called a single thing, and Sirius just settled on extraordinary years ago since it was the next best thing.

"There's an old story," Remus said dreamily. "It's too long to tell right now, but Muggles kiss under it."

Sirius nodded, losing himself in the sound of Remus' words. The world around them seemed to freeze, and it was too dramatic not to grant it a small smile. It felt like the romance cinemas all over again; here they were, gazing into each other's eyes as if nothing else seemed to matter – not the war, not their presents, or the presence of others, not even dinner waiting just feet away from them. There was a lack of orchestral music, and the lighting was terrible, however it didn't exactly matter.

Sirius had said once that he didn't love Moony. Remus had once done his best to respect that. But the air seemed to push them towards one another, their lips meeting each other halfway. Remus tasted of peppermint chocolate – damn Lily for serving it – and cigarettes, and Sirius was sure he tasted the same. His lips were chapped from the cold, winter air, but this was soon remedied by the flicker of Sirius' tongue. His hand crept up to hold Remus' cheek, to make sure this had actually happened because, by all accounts and trials in their relationship, it shouldn't have been.

But it was. Remus was holding him by the back of his head, smiling as he gently pecked Sirius with chaste kisses. The warmth in his hands, the tingle in his stomach – it was all real.

Sirius concluded then, as they pulled away with mirrored grins, that Christmas might have been a reasonable holiday with this addition of Mistletoe.

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Hey guys. First of all, I am so, so so so sos os osososososososososososossososososoososso sorry for the lack of updates. I feel terrible. I got back from Uni about a week and a half ago, and before that I had to study for exams. However, I'm home and free now, which means I have more time to update. I was just honestly so burnt out from school. I've been sleeping till like two in the afternoon.

Also, again, I didn't come up with the idea to the Everlasting Book. Someone on Reddit did and I thought it was PERFECT for Rem. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it's part one of two, so stay in the holiday spirit. I think we all needed this fluff. And the next chapter will be even fluffier. So, stay tuned. It might be up either tonight or tomorrow depending on my mood. I love you guys so much. If you celebrate Christmas, I hope you have a lovely one. If not, I hope you enjoy the unity around this time of year. If you don't have much connection during these times, just know that I'm sending love and joy your way because you ARE loved and wanted.

Thank you guys for being patient.

Much love.

Always,

Nic.