Notes: this is short and nothing particularly dramatic happens, but warm fuzzies may be garnered from this fic. Unless you don't like slash, that is, two boys liking each other romantically, in which case I invite you to use the friendly back button.
Disclaimer: Remus and Sirius, et al., belong to JKR. I'm just playing with them for a while, and they shall be returned completely intact, none the worse for wear, and probably fairly happy.
Gift
It is Remus's birthday tomorrow.
"What?" Sirius says in horror, and stares at Peter.
The other boy blinks at him, frowns a bit, and adds another sentence to his mostly-completed essay. "It's Remus's birthday tomorrow," Peter repeats. "What do you mean, 'what'?"
James, across the room, chuckles and absently tosses a Filibuster Firework between his hands. "He means he forgot," James says helpfully.
Sirius groans and flops back on his bed. "Hell. I can't believe it."
"I can," James says, rather less helpfully.
"Have you lot gotten him anything?" Sirius asks, sitting back up.
"Honeydukes chocolate," Peter says, as James simultaneously adds, "Owl-order from Flourish and Blotts."
Sirius groans again. "Oh hell. What am I going to do?"
"Tell him the truth," Peter suggests. "And then say you're really, really sorry. And maybe grovel a bit."
"Yeah," James says, beginning to grin. "Groveling is always good. You can even turn Padfoot and lick his shoes."
"You're not helping," Sirius growls.
"Sorry," James says unrepentantly, and goes back to inspecting his firework. Peter is still writing his essay. Sirius is beginning to feel vaguely panicked.
"Where is he, anyway?"
"Library," Peter says. "What's the name of that centaur who signed that treaty with the Ministry about non-interference?"
"Kay," Sirius replies absently, and doesn't really notice when Peter gratefully scribbles down the answer. Sirius stands up and wanders toward the door. Halfway there, he spins and faces James. "I don't suppose you can think of anything I should give him."
James shrugs. "Dunno. Can't be real helpful there, I don't think – I mean, we got him the obvious stuff, didn't we? Books and chocolate. He likes that. But now that you're, you know …" He gestures vaguely. "I mean, I can tell you the sort of things Lily thinks are romantic, but Remus might think flowers are just really funny."
"Yeah," Sirius agrees. "Especially since it's the middle of winter."
"How about that Muggle music you've been listening to lately?" Peter volunteers.
"Nah," Sirius says, and laughs a bit. Remus probably wouldn't mind the Beatles too much, but he would probably wince at the rest of it.
"Sorry, can't think of anything else," James says.
"That's okay." Sirius gives both his friends a distracted smile and wanders down the spiral staircase that leads to the common room. It's bad enough that it completely slipped his mind that it is Remus's birthday tomorrow, but James is right – given his predilection for kissing Remus in abandoned classrooms and thinking dizzily IloveyouIloveyou, Sirius really should have something to give Remus.
His feet lead him out of the Gryffindor common room and on down the corridor, through tapestries and down corridors until he arrives at the library. Sirius pauses outside the doors; he does not really want to face Remus, knowing he has not gotten the other boy a present, but he is feeling at a loss, so he goes into the library and heads for a lone table near the back, where Sirius can see a thin boy with brown hair falling into his eyes as he carefully reads a thick book.
"Hey," Sirius says, sitting down next to him.
Remus looks up, and blinks once to rid his eyes of a faraway dreamy look. He always looks like this when he has been reading, slightly distracted and flushed with longing for that other place he has just been. Sirius feels almost repentant for dragging him away, but Remus smiles. "Hello," he says in return.
Quite often, Sirius finds himself acting on impulse, moving through life on instinct alone. Sometimes this gets him into trouble, but around Remus it always seems to work out. Therefore he says, "Happy early birthday, then."
Remus' smile widens. "Thanks. You're not hiding cake or something in those robes, are you? Madam Pince will be after our blood if you are."
"No worries about that," Sirius replies. "Though if you like we can go down to the kitchens; I'm sure the house-elves would love to give you some cake."
"I'm fine here," Remus says. "Besides, I expect James or Peter have gotten me something sweet, and I wouldn't want to ruin my appetite for tomorrow."
Sirius laughs a little at that. "I don't really think it's fair, you knowing ahead of time what we'll get you."
Remus bites his lip, an unconscious gesture of amusement. "So I suppose it's not fair that if one of them got me chocolate, the other one is bound to have gotten me a book of some sort?"
"No, not fair at all."
"Then I don't suppose," Remus grins, "that it would be fair to guess what you've gotten me either."
"No," Sirius says again, but he feels suddenly nervous, because nothing that Remus guesses will be right, because Sirius Black had to be a bloody idiot and forget his Moony's birthday.
"Let's see," Remus says, oblivious. "I don't suppose it was books, then. Or chocolate. Is it music?"
"Muggle rock-and-roll, Remus," Sirius points out dryly.
Remus's grin widens. "I see your point. All right, not music then. Hmm. You didn't suddenly become an artist and paint me something?"
"No," Sirius says, and though he is still worried about what will happen when Remus finds out he has nothing, he finds himself grinning too. "My mother tried to teach me to paint, once. She got out of that experience with drippy green hair."
Remus laughs outright at that. "Well, thank goodness you didn't try again, or James and Peter would probably be out to kill both of us by now." He pauses. "James didn't coerce you into getting me something he would get Lily, did he?"
This question is slightly more seriously put than the others. Sirius only shrugs, and says lightly, "He did mention something about flowers, but I wrote that off as a bit silly."
"Yes," Remus agrees, and Sirius sees with some relief that the other boy doesn't look disappointed. "So," Remus says softly. "I give up. What have you gotten me?"
Sirius thinks. Sirius thinks he could say, I won't tell you until tomorrow. Sirius thinks he could tell Remus the truth, say I forgot and I haven't gotten you anything. Sirius thinks some more, but thinking has always been a bit of a nuisance, as it's always been so much easier to simply be impulsive. So he gets out of his chair, and sprawls himself in Remus's lap instead, and grins lazily up at him.
"Hello," Remus says again, and looks as he did when Sirius first interrupted him from his book, flushed and rather distracted.
"I did not," Sirius finds himself saying, "buy you a present."
"Oh?" Remus says, and begins running his fingers distractedly through Sirius's hair, which is exactly the right length and feels marvelous. "But apparently you haven't made a present, either, unless I'm mistaken about that whole painting business."
"Not bought or made," says Sirius, who is doing this completely off the cuff now and feeling completely at home with himself again. "You see, the present just is."
"Is what?" Remus asks softly.
"This," Sirius says, and traces the line of Remus's cheek. He has not said it yet, even though he thinks it every time they kiss, whenever he looks at Remus or thinks of Remus or anything, anything at all, because it's there, it simply is, this present. So he traces the line of Remus's cheek and says, "I love you."
Remus smiles again, and ducks his head so that they are pressed against each other, and nods silently against Sirius's shoulder. He says, a little muffled, "I love you too," and then he looks back up, and adds, "That is, if I am allowed to give presents on my own birthday."
"Technically," Sirius says, glancing at a clock in the corner of the library, "it's not really your birthday yet. I gave you your present a bit early."
"You can give it again tomorrow," Remus says.
Sirius nods. "That I can. Now." He stands, and pulls Remus up with him. "Let's get back to the dorms, eh? Peter and James thought I hadn't gotten you a present, and since I'm not back yet, they're probably wondering where you've left the body."
Remus snickers at this. "You're horrible."
Flashing him a grin, Sirius counters, "You know you love it."
Remus's face grows serious again. "I do."
"Is it fair to give two presents in one night?" Sirius asks.
Remus grins again. "Hardly."
They race up to the common room. They more or less tie, because neither is keeping careful track, and so arrive at their dorm flushed and panting. Peter is asleep already, and James is lying on his bed reading. He looks up when they arrive, looking momentarily surprised, and gives Sirius an exaggerated wink. Sirius blinks, gives due consideration to the fact that he and Remus are very out of breath, and makes a very rude gesture at James, who snickers and shuts his curtains.
Before they both get changed for bed, Sirius grabs Remus's shoulder again. "Happy birthday, Moony."
Remus smiles a little crookedly. "You too."