Title:
Yes
Author:
Ex-Professor Remus Lupin
Rating:
PG
Genre:
Romance
Era:
Post-Half-Blood Prince
Pairing(s):
Remus/Sirius
Summary:
It's Remus' birthday and Sirius has more than a few complaints.
Disclaimer:
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by
JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to
Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner
Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended.
Author's
Note: This is part of Birds and Drapes series (which includes at the moment "Sean Connery and Killer Drapes"). You don't need to read the other one to get this, but it's all relative...or something. I blame HK of course for being the Sirius to my Remus. Comments are
loved of course for the random BS that is inspired by my real life.
-
Sirius
huffed.
Here he was, thirty-nine years old – not that he would ever admit it to anyone but Remus – and wondering if he'd gone insane. I mean really, here he was, a free bloody man, back from the dead and slightly saner than usual, trying to decide whether or not he should smack his lover upside the head for being a self-sacrificing prat.
Having only just returned a few days earlier from an extended stay with Fenrir's pack, Remus had literally fallen asleep and stayed that way. He had only just now gotten up and when Sirius had insisted that today was his birthday, he could stand to be waited on, he'd gotten yelled at! Honestly, it wasn't as if he asked to care. Stupid self-sacrificing arse with his stupid bloody thing about birthdays and presents and being hostile when it's not even close to the full moon.
Remus sat down next to him on the couch. He's upside down. Or rather, because Sirius has his feet up where his head ought to be, he looked as if he were upside down. Really, Sirius was the one who was upside down. In all honesty, he was upside down all the time, though in less figurative terms.
"What are you doing?" Remus asked, gazing at him from over the edge of his teacup.
"Sulking," Sirius grumbled.
"Whatever for?"
"Because it's your birthday and I can't give you a proper gift because of your crap rules," Remus arched an eyebrow at him and Sirius gazed down – or was it up? – at the carpet, his dark hair melding with the dark blue threads.
"Since when have you listened to my crap rules?" he asked finally.
"I always listen to your crap rules!" Sirius snapped.
"Sirius, if you don't like me saying something, you should tell me. I don't write up a list of rules," Remus said quietly, setting down his cup on the table.
Sirius fumed, glowering up – down? – at the carpet.
"But all you ever say is that I can't buy you things unless its for your birthday or Christmas and even then only so much and yet you wander about in rags! I shouldn't have to tell you I don't like that rule!" he had raised his voice again, which was really a new sort of thing. Before Azkaban he never yelled at Remus.
"Sirius," Remus, of course, is still calm. Bastard. "Sirius, I don't like you spending your money on me."
"And I don't feel right knowing you're wearing rags," Sirius said lowly. "Or that you have to wait to buy the new book you want until they're old enough to be in the second hand book stop, stained with Merlin only knows what, and…"
He paused, glaring up at Remus.
"I don't mind and you should know I don't, that I never did. After everything you've been through, it's the least I can do. You deserve so much more Remus and I'm only trying to give you what you deserve and," he snorted, "you make it so bloody difficult with your messed up self-sacrificing bullshit excuses."
He felt Remus' hand on his stomach, a heavy pressure, too much to tickle, "Sirius, I don't deserve anything from you. You've given me too much all ready."
"Says who?" Sirius growled, sitting up.
"Says me."
"Bullshit," he snapped. "I'm the one that doesn't deserve anything from you. You can't tell me that I'm not an arse and if you'd had any sense, you would have washed your hands clean of me sixth year."
Remus shifted uncomfortably, looking away from him and Sirius growled, reaching out and grasping his chin, forcing him to look at him.
"You deserve a hundred times more than you get and it's not fair to me that you don't let me," he said quietly. "If you're so worried about me spending my money, then we'll get married."
Remus gasped.
"Sirius?"
"We'll get married and this way it'll be our money and then you won't have to feel so guilty about accepting gifts from me."
"I…Sirius, that can't be legal," Remus whispered.
"Who says it has to be legal?" Sirius demanding. "I don't need some fancy papers saying I want to spend the rest of my life with you.
He grinned, releasing Remus' jaw and raking his fingers through his hair, gazing nervously at his lover and wondering if he had lost it in Azkaban.
"So? Will you marry me?" Remus was silent, staring at him in surprise, as if trying to understand what he had asked.
"Yes," he breathed, surging forward and pressing his lips firmly to Sirius', pulling him into an awkward sprawl on the couch. When they separated, both of them breathing deeper now, Sirius grinned.
"Say it," he said lowly, pressing soft kisses to Remus' jaw line.
"What?"
"Remus," he growled, nipping lightly at the junction between throat and jaw. "Say it or I'll never kiss you again."
Remus laughed, amber eyes filled with amusement, "Yes, I'll marry you, you git."
