16-19

Chapter 16: Summer

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"She makes me crazy."

Sirius huffs and gives Remus a side-along glance, before returning to his notes. He has a tutorial tomorrow that he needs to prepare for, which he conveniently pushed in front of him until the last minute. And, of course, this is the moment Remus decides to bother him. He should have stayed at the library.

"You'll manage," Sirius says absentmindedly and zooms in on a scheme of the metabolic pathway of butanol production by Clostridium acetobutylicum .

Remus groans and pushes Sirius' laptop away with his forehead, making himself comfortable in his lap with a suffering expression. Sirius unceremoniously places the laptop on his head instead.

"She asks me all these questions; I can't stand her."

Sirius glances down with a raised eyebrow. "I ask you questions all the time, and you can stand me just fine. I hope so, at least," he argues.

Remus sighs and nuzzles his head into Sirius' abdomen, sounding a little muffled, "You ask relevant questions. She just wants to show how clever she is," he whines. "'Oh, this is how you do it? I read a paper yesterday where they used a xeno-free medium with added growth factors that greatly enhanced the proliferation'," he mimics her in an annoyed tone.

"This would eliminate differences between media batches," Sirius says pensively.

He gets ignored. "She asked me if she could read my dissertation ," Remus says derisively. "The audacity!"

Sirius snickers and pushes Remus' head away from his lap, placing the laptop more comfortably again. "Can I read your dissertation?"

"Sure," Remus agrees instantly. "Because you're not an insufferable know-it-all and I would actually enjoy hearing your opinion."

" You're an insufferable know-it-all," Sirius remarks but has to smile a little. "At least she would understand what you're talking about. I'd be completely lost."

Remus scoots down the bed further and wraps his arms around one of Sirius' thighs like a monkey, pushing his laptop closed with his head. Sirius makes a protesting noise, putting his hand on the display and holding the laptop up and out of Remus' reach again.

"Sirius, please, can I fire her?"

"No," Sirius says sternly and gives his head a light slap. "Bad boy. Don't you dare."

He just wraps his arms tighter around Sirius' leg and places a sting of kisses to his thigh. "Can you come back? Please? I need you."

Sirius shakes his leg a little to get Remus off him, but he holds on stubbornly. "No, you can't have me back. I'm busy. Grow up."

"I am a grown-up," Remus grumbles. "I have set up a pension. I pay taxes. I have a five-year plan. I'm so grown up."

"Yes, yes," Sirius murmurs, placing his laptop back and trying to type up an answer for one of the tutorial questions. "Very mature. Much old. So reliable. Get a grip, Remus, and deal with your intern like an adult."

"What can I do to get you back?"

The production of acids like acetic acid and butyric acid is an essential step that allows for the conversion of ADP to ATP, which is needed for optimal growth. These acids are then reused by Clostridium for further production of solvents like acetone and butanol, while only a small percentage of production is conducted from the initial carbohydrates of the substrate…

"Huh?" Sirius rips his eyes away from the screen and looks at Remus. "What did you say?"

"Sirius," Remus groans, "give me attention."

Sirius pats him on the shoulder distractedly. "Baby, I'm busy."

"Always so busy," Remus grumbles. "I miss you."

"Remus, you see me every single day," Sirius says and cocks his head to read the graph description on his slides better. "You can't miss me if I'm always here."

Remus huffs into his thigh, his breath tickling the hair on Sirius' legs, and trails his hand over his knee and calve. "Wrong. You're always at uni or hauled away at Peter's lab with his nasty bacteria, and then you come home and read some more about it."

That is only partly true, of course. Sirius has enough free time in the evenings and on the weekends, but Remus, being in the final phase of writing his dissertation, is mostly occupied at those times.

"The sooner you let me finish this, the sooner I will be free to give you all the attention you want," Sirius argues.

Of course, Remus ignores him. "Do you even care about our cells anymore?" he murmurs. "All you talk about now are prokaryotes. How boring."

"I care about getting a degree," Sirius says and laughs. "That involves dealing with 'boring prokaryotes', as you very well know. Now shush and let me finish."

Remus huffs and is silent for a while before his patience runs out and he rudely turns Sirius' laptop to himself. "Let me do it for you, you're taking too long."

Sirius pokes him in the ribs. "Give it back. I need to do it myself!"

"'How did the handling of Clostridium acetobutylicum change since the 1920s?'," Remus reads aloud and huffs. "The answer is – who cares? Who even needs this shit?"

"My professor," Sirius growls. "And you are wrong. The production of biobutanol from ABE fermentation is very important for the biofuel industry."

He takes the laptop away from Remus again and tries to push him off with one hand, but Remus just takes his hand and kisses the inside of his palm. "You know how hot you are when you say words like biobutanol and fermentation?" he murmurs. "You're so smart, I need you in my team, love."

Sirius sighs, exasperated, but can't help the warmth spreading in his chest at Remus' words. "You don't need me, you need someone . And that someone is Mary, so stop whinging."

Remus laughs softly and slowly trails a hand up Sirius' thigh, dipping his fingers inside his boxers. "Why are you talking about a strange woman in our bed, hm?"

" You are talking about her, not me," Sirius reminds him and squirms. "Baby, you're distracting me."

With a low hum, Remus rolls over on his stomach, placing himself between Sirius' outstretched legs and tugs on his hips, making him sink lower in the bed. "I'm not distracting you," he says smugly. "You can continue your studies."

Sirius' breath hitches a little when Remus runs his mouth over the inside of his thigh, and he closes the laptop with a frustrated groan. "You're unbelievable," he complains. "I would have been done already if you didn't torment me all this time."

Remus grins without a trace of remorse and nudges the closed laptop down from Sirius lap, before pulling his pants down. Sirius sighs and raises his hips a little to help him.

"Forget about that stupid tutorial," Remus urges and palms his half-hard cock. "I'll give you my notes on it."

"Will you write my exam on it too?" Sirius asks and gasps when Remus drags his tongue teasingly all the way along his shaft. "Fuck, Remus…"

All thoughts about university escape Sirius' mind when Remus takes him in his mouth in earnest. Sirius hums and grabs the edge of the bed frame above him, his eyes rolling back on their own at the sensation of a wet, hot mouth closing around his cock.

Remus takes Sirius' other hand and places it on his own head, before resuming his hold on Sirius' hips. With a small smile, Sirius trails his fingers through the soft curls and grabs him firmly.

"Oh, that's how you want it?" he asks and chuckles. "Are you sure?"

Remus just hums in agreement, and Sirius bites his lip, applying pressure on the back of his head. Well, if Remus wants him to fuck his mouth like that, who is he to argue?

Sirius tries to be careful, afraid to make Remus gag or close off his air supply, but Remus' hold on his hips is loose, artificial at best, and he lets himself go, plunging into the heat of his mouth forcefully.

"Baby, I'm close," Sirius pants and moans when Remus relaxes further, swallowing around him, making something impossible with his tongue.

The tight spring in him uncoils way too soon, making him thrust up one last time, before coming into Remus' ready mouth. Sirius goes completely slack, breathing heavily and grimacing at the tight feeling in his calves from too much strain.

When Remus lifts up again, his eyes are dark and hungry, and he licks his lips in a criminally obscene way. Sirius grins at him and runs his fingers through his hair gently.

"Sorry, was it too much?"

Remus huffs, amused, and places a wet kiss on his hipbone. "I liked it, don't worry."

Sirius tugs him up by his hair for a kiss, making his back arch, tasting himself on his lips. Remus kisses back, hard and needy, and Sirius chuckles into his mouth. "You want to fuck me?"

"Do you want to?" Remus asks, smiling and Sirius tuts at him.

"I won't ask you twice, I can just go back to my tutorial prep," he says teasingly and laughs at the offended face Remus makes.

There is no need to ask twice though because Remus is already sitting up and reaching for the bedside table to get the lube and condoms.

"Shall I do it or do you want to do it yourself?" he asks suggestively and tosses the tube in the air repeatedly.

"Do I need to do all the work here?" Sirius asks and raises his eyebrows.

Remus huffs and shakes his head with a smile. "I just sucked you off, love, that doesn't count?"

"Indulge me," Sirius drawls and turns on his stomach, pulling off his shirt at the same time.

"Gladly," Remus whispers into his nape, settling between his legs and hauling his hips up so Sirius stands on his knees, chest laying on the mattress.

There is some shuffling while Remus takes his sweatpants off and puts on a condom, and Sirius already feels a little excited again, his backside high in the air.

"God, but you are beautiful," Remus murmurs and kisses his lower back, pressing a finger to Sirius' hole.

After weeks of very thorough explorations of each other's bodies, he knows every single button he needs to push, and by the time he adds the third finger, Sirius is already squirming and panting, fully aroused.

"To be young and horny again," Remus muses before taking away his fingers and positioning himself.

"You're horny alright," Sirius breathes and moans hoarsely, pressing his forehead to his fist when Remus thrusts inside slowly.

Remus hums, a low, filthy sound, and drags his hands down Sirius back, making him arch even more, and thrusting again. "Only because of you," he presses out and grips Sirius' hips firmly, setting up a pace.

Sirius grins into the sheets and pushes back, a jolt of desire going through his spine every time their hips meet with a loud snap. He never gets tired of hearing Remus say these things.

"So, I've been thinking," Sirius says casually and gasps when Remus changes the angle just right.

"Love, now?" Remus asks breathlessly. "Right fucking now?"

"I've been thinking for a while," Sirius says and smirks.

"Fuck, okay," Remus says through clenched teeth and thrusts a little harder, making Sirius grasp the sheets tighter. "Tell me then if it's so urgent."

"How about…" Sirius can't suppress a moan, but continues, "we get tested together, hm?"

He feels Remus losing his rhythm for a second, but he doesn't say anything, so Sirius adds, "And ditch the condoms?"

Remus groans and freezes, one hand leaving Sirius' hip and, from what Sirius can feel, gripping the base of his cock desperately. "Fuck, Sirius!" he exclaims. "Do you want me to come right away? Why would you say something like this now?"

With a satisfied grin, Sirius pushes back again, making Remus double over and press his damp forehead against his back.

"I thought you might like the idea," Sirius says innocently.

Remus growls quietly and bites him, slowly releasing himself and putting the hand on Sirius' cock instead. He thrusts forward again, a bit shakily, still draped over Sirius' back.

"Do you mean it?" he asks, sounding a little uncertain.

"No," Sirius says sarcastically, "I'm just kidding. Of course, I mean it."

"God, I love you," Remus breathes in between thrusts and then more urgently, "Fuck, Sirius, I can't hold off much longer."

Despite his words, he does last until he unwinds Sirius with some firm, rapid pumps, and they come almost simultaneously, gasping, and trembling at the peak.

Afterwards, they lay together, arms and legs entwined, Remus placing soft kisses on Sirius' temple every once in a while. And Sirius doesn't even feel guilty for the neglected work. He can figure something out tomorrow morning, probably.

"You missed a spot," Remus supplies helpfully. "Right… there."

Noah sends him an annoyed glare through the mirror and continues dragging a brush over her face. "Are you going to bug me the whole time?" she asks acidly. "Go trim your pubic hair or something."

Remus smiles at her. "You are in my bathroom, dear."

She ignores him and puts the brush away, rummaging through an enormous make-up bag. Sirius peers into it from his front-row seat on the closed toilet, curious to see what she will do next. Because right now she looks a bit… bland. With her bleach blonde hair and pale face, she even looks a bit sickly.

Noah settles on a weird, glossy compact in the shape of a diamond with gold cursive lettering, and opens it swiftly, dragging her fingers over the pink… powder? No, some sort of gloss? Paste?

Basil meows demandingly and Sirius picks him up, draping his furry body over his legs. His allergy test results came back a while ago, confirming that he was indeed not allergic to cats. Instead, he was allergic to almost everything else, in different capacities. Early blossoms, grasses, fungi, dust mites… The whole assortment. What joy. Sirius is pretty sure it's the Black family inbreeding – it's a wonder he has all four limbs (and not some extra ones) and a functioning dick at all.

"What's that for?" he asks Noah, scratching Basil's head absentmindedly.

"Don't you see," Remus drawls, "it's her warrior paint. It shows that she is the goddess of lust and fertility, ready to shag your head off or swallow it whole."

"Blush," she says, unbothered, and spreads the 'blush' (what?) over her cheekbones in a practised motion. "Makes me look less dead in the face. And like I'm shyly reddening all of the time."

"Dear, I haven't seen you blush for real since you were fourteen and I took you to that university party," Remus remarks.

She glares at him again but doesn't say anything. Instead, she puts the compact away and picks up a huge, fluffy brush (how many does she have?) and another, seemingly different compact. With quick swishes she powders her face, looking unnaturally matte afterwards. Sirius watches her in fascination.

"How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?" Sirius asks curiously.

Noah shrugs, searching for something in her bag again. "I don't know? Anything between five minutes and an hour, depending on where I'm going."

Sirius gapes at her. "One hour? The fuck? It takes me like ten minutes to take a shower and put on some clothes. When do you wake up?"

With a sceptical glance in his direction, she picks up yet another compact, this time with some brown powder, and a third fucking brush. "You can't convince me that you wake up looking like this ," she says in disbelief. "How many products do you use in your hair?"

"Shampoo?"

"Oh, come on!" she groans, making Remus laugh loudly.

"Believe me, he really does just wake up like that," he confirms and smiles at Sirius.

"Unfair," Noah grumbles, dragging the brush over her face and under her pointy chin. "Lucky you, big brother."

"Wait, wait, wait," Sirius says, confused. "What is that? First, you painted your face one solid colour. And now you're putting a different colour back on?"

"Yep. That's contouring."

'Contouring' Sirius mouths and looks at Remus questioningly, to which he just shrugs.

"But why?"

"Look," she says, annoyed again, and points the brush in his face, "this is not a make-up 101 class, okay? Aren't you supposed to know about stuff like that, anyway, being gay and all that?"

Remus laughs again, tipping his head back and holding his stomach.

"Excuse me?" Sirius asks, offended, and blinks slowly. "I'm still a man! Just because I like cock doesn't mean I'm somehow proficient at painting my face."

"Men wear make-up too," she says and looks at her reflection critically, turning her face that way and this way. "Can I beautify you two?"

"Absolutely not," they say in unison.

"Some mascara?"

"Nope."

"Lipstick?"

"I actually would like to see you in some lipstick," Remus muses and winks at Sirius.

"You would like to see it come off, is what you wanted to say," Sirius corrects him with a smirk. "No chance. I'm not putting any colour on my lips."

"I can put some colour on your lips alright…"

"Boys," Noah exclaims, exasperated, "can you take this somewhere else?"

Remus looks at her with a straight face. "You are in my bathroom," he reminds her again. "If I want to shag my boyfriend right here, I very well can."

She grins at him, showing white teeth and slightly too-long canines. "Actually, do that. I'll watch."

"And I thought my family was weird," Sirius murmurs and picks up Basil, who remains hanging lazily in his arms. "Come on, bestie, I've seen enough. Let's do some pregaming."

"I want some too!" Noah yells after him.

"Not with that attitude, Missy!" he responds.

They are all invited to a gig of Frank's band that plays in some shoddy bar full of questionable folk and even more questionable beer. Sirius doesn't mind, he feels like he's been spending all his time working or sleeping anyway, so this outing is a nice distraction.

And it would do Remus some good to think about something else for a night. The deadline for handing in his dissertation is just in one and a half weeks and he's in that phase where he is basically finished, and just fretting over small details endlessly.

The only thing Sirius is looking forward to at the moment is the trip to Prague that Lily has gifted them for Remus' birthday in March. Being the angel that she is, she bought the tickets for the time after Remus would be done with his PhD. It will be a great opportunity to wind down a bit from all the stress for Remus and to get some fresh air for Sirius.

Sirius has very fond memories of Prague, a place where it all sort of began for them. It will be nice to go back and really feel how things have changed since that cold spring. Just like they promised each other.

He picks up a couple of beers from the fridge and opens them, having to set Basil down for that, to which he promptly flops on his back and stretches out his paws, ready for belly rubs. Sirius smiles and pats him carefully with a socked foot.

"You are not as cute as you think," Sirius lies and hisses when Basil sinks his claws in his foot. "Ow, you fluffy bastard!"

With a wounded foot and wounded ego, Sirius stomps back to the bathroom with the beers in hand. "Who wants to play never have I ever?"

"No!" both Remus and Noah shout and burst into laughter.

"Oh, I will get to your secrets one day, Lupin," Sirius says threateningly. "You just wait."

Sirius paces the university hall nervously, his steps echoing from the dark walls and high ceiling. Back and forth, back and forth. He sighs for the millionth time and looks at his phone again to check the clock. What takes so long? It's been ages !

For lack of anything else to do, he unlocks the phone and opens his messenger. The lab group chat is blinking an all colours of the rainbow from the wide assortment of emojis the crew was posting for the past hour. It buzzes again a couple of times, James sending strings of incoherent text and mystical emoji combinations – a hand with pinkie and thumb sticking out, a pink tongue and an ambulance? What is that supposed to mean? Peter sends a crying laughing one and then one with a set of big eyes. Sirius hopes that Remus has turned his phone off before going in.

Sirius himself has just finished an exam, unable to concentrate on anything else but his thoughts about Remus the whole time. He ran to the right hall across campus, afraid to get there too late, but it seems like he needn't have worried about that.

After another fifteen minutes of pacing, Sirius stops in his tracks and listens closely. There is the sound of applause from the other side of the closed door and raised voices. He nervously chews on his lip. Applause is good, right? That's a good sign.

The door opens abruptly, and people start filtering out of the auditorium – some students, a couple of lecturers Sirius knows from his own courses, then two professors, one of them Remus' supervisor, and a couple of people in business attire. That's a pretty large crowd in Sirius' opinion, but what does he know about dissertation defences?

Finally, everyone else seems to have left and Sirius peeks into the auditorium carefully, in case Remus is still busy talking to someone. But he's leaning over the presentation desk, scrolling through something on his laptop, alone.

Remus looks up at him then smiles giddily. "Hello," he says, which is very uncharacteristic of him.

"And?" Sirius urges, stepping closer. "How did it go?"

"Very well," Remus says and sounds like he can't decide between being surprised and happy about it. "I don't know the results yet, but I've been told that I definitely passed."

The overwhelming feeling of pride floods Sirius' chest and he whoops excitedly, punching the air, and then crushes Remus in a tight hug, which he returns with a startled laugh.

"Oh, baby, I'm so proud of you!" Sirius exclaims and rocks Remus a little in his arms. "Congratulation on your doctorate!"

Remus lifts his head with one hand and kisses him, smiling. "Thank you," he says quietly. "I don't know how I would've done it without you."

It's an obvious lie, Sirius knows, because he's Remus – he would have done just as wonderfully all on his own. If anything, Sirius was a huge distraction, but he doesn't want to argue about that. It's the thought that counts, right?

"Shall I call you Doctor Lupin from now on?" Sirius jokes and grins.

Remus grimaces and shakes his head, then smiles again. "Only in the bedroom."

Sirius hums and chuckles. "I knew you would say something like that."

They stay in that position for a short while, holding each other, before Remus finally detaches himself with a last kiss and packs up his bag. Sirius admires him from afar, still feeling a bit too excited. He looks good in formal attire – straight black trousers that hug him in all the right places, a simple white button-down shirt, carefully tucked in, black leather shoes. All hot and smart, Dr Remus Lupin.

"How did your exam go?" Remus asks, stopping next to him and ready to leave. "All good?"

Sirius shrugs. "Don't know, can't remember a single thing about it," he admits. "I was too worried about you. And annoyed that I couldn't be there for your presentation because of this stupid exam."

Remus gives him a sympathetic look and adjusts the strap of his messenger bag. "You didn't have to worry about me, love," he says somewhat guiltily. "I'm sorry it didn't work out, but I wanted to have the defence out of the way before we go on holiday."

"Sure, I understand that," Sirius says and smiles. "I just know how important it is for you and I wanted everything to go smoothly."

"Everything was fine," Remus assures him and takes his hand as they step out of the dark university building into the burning afternoon sun.

"You should text the lab crew," Sirius says when they get into the car. "They've been going crazy all day."

Remus rolls his eyes, but there is a fond smile on his lips. "I'm sure they'll manage for a while longer," he drawls and then turns to Sirius. "So, do you want to celebrate?"

Sirius bites the inside of his cheeks, hiding a smirk, and shrugs. "Sure, what do you want to do?"

"We can go out for a nice dinner, maybe some drinks?" Remus suggests and then places a warm hand on Sirius' thigh. "Then you can practice addressing me correctly," he continues in a lower tone.

Oh, fuck. Sirius tries not to squirm and bites his lip again. He needs to turn this around quickly without making a fuss.

"How about…" he begins and hopes he sounds flirty instead of anxious, "we do that but in reverse order?"

Remus smirks and nods. "Okay," he agrees easily. "Yours or mine?"

"Yours," Sirius says, relieved, and feels a tiny bit guilty for leading Remus on when he squeezes his thigh promisingly one last time before starting the engine.

He quickly types a text into the group chat, trying to look inconspicuous, and hides his smile behind his palm, gazing out of the window at the sunny, summer-heated streets rushing by. Life is good. He finished all his exams (and hopefully passed them as well), Remus is done with his PhD, the weather has been beautiful lately, they have a wonderful holiday planned, and Remus has not moved his hand from his thigh except for shortly changing the gears for the whole ride to his flat.

Sirius promptly lets Remus go up the stairs first, hoping that he wouldn't notice that Sirius doesn't actually have his keys on him. The flat is dark and quiet when they enter, only the smell of food lingering suspiciously in the air and Basil does not come out to greet them, but Remus doesn't seem to notice. Good, very good.

"…and when it got to the discussion part, I just thought–" Remus cuts himself off mid-sentence, freezing in front of the open living room door. "Oh."

"Surprise!" The whole room explodes in applause and cheers, someone turns the lights on, and music starts playing from the boxes as if on command.

Sirius peers around a gobsmacked Remus to see the living room completely remodelled. The couch is turned with its back to the wall to make more space, the dining table and chairs are gone somewhere, and there are long buffet tables along the other wall that definitely do not belong in the flat, filled with all kinds of food and drinks. The walls are decorated with garlands and fairy lights, a large golden banner hanging in the middle of the room with big red lettering saying 'Congratulations, Dr Grumpy!". James has outdone himself.

Remus drags a hand over his face and laughs. "Oh my God, what the fuck?"

"My man!" James cries dramatically and almost topples them both over, giving Remus a bone-crushing hug. "You've done it! You've finally done it!"

Everyone laughs and cheers again, people lining up chaotically to give their own best wishes to Remus. The whole lab crew is here, including the Friday night regulars from other departments. Remus' university friends came as well, inviting other people along that Sirius didn't meet yet. Noah is standing with Alice and Frank at the back, finetuning something with the music. There are even some students that Sirius has seen leaving Remus' defence presentation earlier. The flat is packed.

"A surprise party? Really?" Remus asks a while later when the stream of people wanting to talk to him has diminished and he found Sirius chatting to Lily in the bedroom.

It's obvious that he tries to sound annoyed but is failing miserably. Sirius grins mischievously at him. "You're welcome!"

Remus huffs, giving up his act, and leans against his desk, joining them. "How did you even manage to pull this off? You've been studying non-stop for the past week. There is catering here!"

Lily giggles, her drink sloshing dangerously near the rim. "Oh, the idea was Sirius'," she says, "but the execution is all James."

There is a 'no shit' expression on Remus' face. "I can smell his signature on everything from a mile away," he drawls and smiles. "I shall kill him later for rearranging my flat."

"I don't even know where he got those tables from," Sirius admits and shakes his head in amusement. "I hope you enjoy yourself."

Remus kisses him lightly on the cheek and murmurs in his ear quietly, so that Lily can't hear it, "You will pay for getting my hopes up."

Sirius feels his cheeks heat up slightly and he raises his eyebrows. "I'll take you up on that promise, Dr Lupin."

Notes:

We are almost done, my friends :( I'm already wistful about this fic ending soon, but I hope you haven't lost the joy of reading it over the last chapters!

Chapter 17: Prague II

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

There is a strong feeling of déjà vu when Sirius walks next to Remus to their gate. It's a weird feeling he can't seem to shake, even though things are definitely very different now than they were in spring. Remus' gentle hand on the small of his back indicates that very clearly.

Additionally, it's the first time they are going on holiday together, as a couple. Their last trip to Prague was nice, of course, but very different – they were going as colleagues, Sirius was still with Fabian, Remus was incredibly nervous about his presentation, and everything felt so uncertain. They were only going for two days instead of a full week too.

"Are you excited?" Sirius asks him when they take their seats on the plane.

"Very," Remus admits with a smile and takes his hand, placing it on his thigh. "It feels like we've come full circle, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, definitely," Sirius agrees and sighs. "I'm so happy you took me with you back then."

Remus squeezes his hand and laughs a little. "I was really nervous to go with you," he says quietly.

"Really?" Sirius raises his eyebrows in surprise. "You seemed so composed, I would have never thought."

"Really. It felt a lot like I was kidnapping you," he says and bites his lip. "I couldn't really ask you out, for a hundred different reasons. It was like I tricked you into spending time with me."

This is something Sirius still struggles to comprehend – the fact that Remus liked him for a long time before Sirius even noticed anything.

"You didn't trick me, I was over the moon that you invited me," Sirius says sternly. "God, I remember us sitting on that plane and I don't even know what we talked about anymore, but you touched my knee for like half a second and I completely freaked out."

Remus looks at him, wide-eyed, and shakes his head. " You freaked out? How about when you took my hand in the metro? I almost fell down the stairs, feeling like I'm in some sort of fantasy."

Sirius snorts and then bursts out laughing. "That's what you were fantasising about?" he asks, amused. "That's really cute. I wasn't so prude in my mind, I'm afraid."

He conveniently doesn't mention that he was thinking about the innocent things as well, maybe even more than any sexual fantasies he might have had. The amount of time he spent imagining what it would be like to fall asleep next to Remus was larger than he would ever dare to admit to anyone.

"Sirius," Remus hisses quietly and leans closer. "Stop this now. This is not a conversation for public spaces."

"Aha," Sirius drawls smugly, "I see. Don't worry, Dr Lupin, I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

Remus just closes his eyes and sighs, throwing himself back in his seat. His hand never lets Sirius' go, though.

The city is absolutely packed. Hordes of tourists roam the narrow streets, talking in all possible languages, laughing, eating, shopping. Only the vibrant, colourful flags and umbrellas of city tour guides stick out of the sea of people, making sure the attendants don't lose their groups in the masses.

The sun beats down mercilessly, reflecting from the shiny, cobbled streets and old facades, creating a feeling of suddenly stepping into a sauna. The whole city centre is made out of stone, almost no greenery to be found, and it feels at least five degrees hotter than it actually is.

"Summertime in Prague for you," Remus mumbles and wipes his damp forehead.

Sirius thought that it was full in spring, but it was nothing compared to this, and he suddenly doubts that it was a good idea to go here during the summer holidays, instead of some removed, tropical island.

"I hope you brought sunscreen," Sirius jokes and passes Remus a bottle of water. "You look a bit red around the nose already."

Remus huffs and eyes him incredulously. "You don't seem to mind the heat at all."

Sirius shrugs. "I like it warm," he says and smiles. "My comfort temperature begins when you start overheating, apparently."

"Apparently," Remus repeats and shakes his head. "Okay, where do you want to go first?"

"I don't mind," Sirius says and looks around. "You're the expert here, I will follow wherever you go."

Remus kisses him then, right in the middle of the street, completely unbothered by the looks of people around them. Sirius hums, surprised, and tugs him to the side, afraid to be tramped over by annoyed tourists. Remus smells like summer, like sun and blue skies, like coffee and his heavy aftershave. He smells like home.

"What was that for?" Sirius asks, laughing a little, Remus' hands on his waist a steady presence.

"Nothing," Remus says and smiles, leaning his forehead against Sirius'. "I love you."

"I love you too," Sirius says breathlessly.

Remus leads them expertly through the sun-flooded streets, holding Sirius' hand casually, taking less busy routes until they emerge on a cobbled square. The outdoor patio spaces of restaurants and cafés are bursting with people, there are street musicians playing instruments in three different spots, their music mixing into a weird, out-of-pace symphony. But Remus strides over the square towards an old building with a truly astounding, complicated-looking clock. Sirius figures it must be the astronomical clock, one of the most important sights in Prague, but it looks a bit different in real life than in the pictures he's seen.

"You'll like this," Remus says with a smile. "It will go off in about five minutes."

"Every full hour, right?" Sirius asks, remembering having read about it.

"Yes. It also shows the movement of planets and the yearly movement of the sun and moon through the zodiac sign constellations," Remus says. "The clock was made in early 15th century, so the theory was still that the sun circles the earth back then."

Sirius can't really make sense of the different dials, but it looks beautiful. It's mind-boggling to him how someone could create something like that with their own hands, especially such a long time ago. Would the clockmaker have believed if someone told him that over six hundred years later his work would still be admired by people from all around the world? Is there anything people create now that would withstand such a long time, anything that people would even want to see?

The clock strikes noon and Sirius watches in fascination how the two small windows over the clock open and the procession of the twelve Apostles shuffles through. There are gasps and sounds of cameras going off, but Sirius is too focused on Remus' voice whispering about the different figures into his ear. The show is over very quickly, and Sirius feels a little disappointed.

"You probably have some interesting fun facts about the clock?" Sirius asks hopefully and smiles at Remus.

Remus purses his lips in thought and then smiles. "I can think of two legends off the top of my head," he admits. "The first one is pretty widely known. About eighty years after the clock was built, it stopped working – that happened a lot throughout history, by the way – and another clockmaker repaired the clock, modernising the chime mechanism as well. He was so talented that the government of Prague was really worried about him creating something similar again and ordered him to be blinded."

Sirius gapes at him. "Blinded? Just because he did a good job?"

Remus hums and chuckles. "Yeah, absolutely mad. But don't worry, he retaliated and disabled the clock altogether. It didn't work for a hundred years after that."

Wow, one hundred years? A whole generation never experienced the clock in its full capacity. Suddenly, Sirius feels very small and insignificant compared to such a long stretch of time. And weirdly grateful to be born in a time where he gets to see it in full glory.

"The second one is about a prophecy," Remus continues.

Sirius shivers despite the pressing heat. "I don't like prophecies," he murmurs. "They freak me out."

"Me too," Remus admits and squeezes his hand, motioning to the skeleton figure next to the clock. "This is Death, it is striking the time. The legend says that if something happens to it for a longer period, the Czech nation is going to face challenging times."

Sirius looks at the skeleton, unable to avert his eyes, and feels a little hypnotized by Remus' low voice.

"The prophecy says that only a boy, born on the night of New Year's Eve, can break that fate. When the skeleton starts working again and nods his head at midnight, the boy must run as fast as he can from the Tyn Church, across the square, all the way to the Town Hall," Remus continues and motions from where the church must be located and back to the clock, "before the chimes strike for the last time."

The 'or else' hangs unsaid in the air between them and Sirius wonders who came up with that story. Why is it always a small boy, destined to hold the fate of a nation in his hands, fighting against death and destruction all on his own?

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Sirius says, feeling uneasy.

"Let's hope not," Remus agrees and sighs. "Sorry for the sad tone. I can tell some fun stories about the time I got really drunk with my friends and made a complete fool of myself right in front of this beautiful clock?"

Sirius laughs, the moment broken, and raises his eyebrows. "Oh, I'd love to hear that," he drawls.

Remus smiles at him and cringes, probably regretting the offer already. "How about some lunch first? I know a nice place not too far away from here."

They walk the streets again, and Remus leads them to a small pub that also seems to be part of an actual brewery, tucked away in some unassuming alleyway. The food is amazing, the place is tiny and comforting, and there are almost no tourists present. Sirius once again feels the same way he did the last time they were in Prague – like he's part of some carefully hidden secret, a personal mystery of Remus that he, for some unknown reason, gets to witness.

"Would you like to come back at some point?" Sirius asks and plays around with his coaster. "Move to Prague?"

Remus cocks his head in thought, looking somewhere above Sirius' head. "I would lie if I said I've never considered it since I left after that semester abroad," Remus says pensively. He looks older somehow, in the dim light of the pub, and there is an ache in Sirius' chest he doesn't know how to place. "I had an amazing time here. I love the city. I still have some friends here."

"But?"

He sighs and lowers his gaze to look Sirius in the eyes. "But my life is in England," he says softly. "With you."

Sirius never tires of being surprised by the easiness such statements come out of Remus' mouth. The certainty in his tone makes Sirius' insides clench in the most beautiful way and for a moment he wonders if it's even possible to fall deeper in love with the person you already love.

"Also," Remus continues, "I am in some way a big patriot."

"Are you now?" Sirius asks and laughs. "You don't make an impression like that from the way you talk about England."

Remus laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners, white teeth flashing briefly in the dim light of the pub. "Like Michael Moor said: I refuse to live in a country like this, and I'm not leaving."

Sirius lays his head on his crossed arms and laughs, the small table vibrating under him.

They chose a different hotel for their stay this time, a bit further away from the bustle of the city, on the other side of the river. It's a shiny, new building, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the old houses around it, but the room is spacious and, most importantly, has air conditioning.

"For fuck's sake," Remus curses under his breath.

Sirius lifts on his elbows and looks at him curiously. Remus just finished showering, hair darker and slicked back, little droplets of water still covering his shoulders and chest, only a white hotel room towel slung around his narrow hips.

"Hm?"

Remus bites his lip and narrows his eyes slightly, gaze roaming over Sirius' naked body slowly. "Do you even know how gorgeous you are?" he asks in a husky voice. "How dare you lay there like some Greek God? Do you have no shame?"

Sirius smiles and raises his eyebrows. "Not a speck," he agrees and eyes the obvious bulge under Remus' towel with calculating eyes. "Are you complaining?"

"Fuck, no," he says resolutely and stalks closer on soft feet. "I want to swallow you whole."

"I think you did that yesterday," Sirius mentions casually and grins at his advances.

"And I'll do that today," Remus says, placing a knee on the edge of the bed, the towel sliding dangerously low under his sharp hipbones. "And tomorrow. Any day."

Sirius hums and reaches out to remove the towel altogether, dragging his palm gently over Remus' lean hip. "This is a vow I can agree with," he jokes.

Remus smirks slightly and leans over him, gripping his neck firmly for a kiss. It's wet and dirty, making Sirius' breath hitch at the way he slides his teeth over his lower lip. He moves over seamlessly along his jaw, down his neck, over his chest. Sirius gasps a little and shivers when Remus licks one of his nipples, rolling the other one gently between two fingers.

Unable to hold himself up, Sirius falls on his back again, already completely hard and aching for touch. But Remus takes his time, ignoring his cock altogether, stroking his thighs, kissing his stomach. It's a game he likes to play a little too much – seeing how long he can make him wait, who will give up first, if he can make him beg for it. A game Sirius is happy to lose every time.

"Mhh." Sirius trails his fingers into Remus' damp locks and tugs a little. "Remus, please, I can't…"

"I think you can," Remus retorts and comes up for a kiss again.

Sirius kisses him hard and needy and then slides his leg to hook under Remus' knee and topple him over sharply, before landing on top and smirking into his mouth.

"Got you," Sirius whispers and presses their hips together, delighting in the most needed friction. "You're a cruel man. How would you like it if I did something like that to you?"

Remus laughs and kisses him again. "You are more than welcome to," he says cockily.

"Uh-uh." Sirius grins. "You don't fight fire with fire. I think the best way to show you what it's like is to make you watch, unable to touch. Hm?"

A choked sound escapes Remus' throat and Sirius feels his erection throbbing against his own.

"A Greek God you said?" Sirius continues in a low tone. "Just imagine it then. Me, naked and hard for you, stroking myself, wriggling and panting. Maybe even fingering myself, slow and thorough."

Remus' eyes actually roll back at that, and a shiver goes through his whole body, hips jerking against Sirius' thigh. Sirius smiles and leans closer to his ear, catching his earlobe with his teeth for a second.

"You can touch yourself , of course, but that's not fun, right?"

"No," Remus breathes shakily.

"No," Sirius agrees and trails a hand over his chest, grazing his nipple with a thumb. "You know you could do it better, deeper, sweeter. But you're not allowed. You can only watch…"

Remus lets out an undignified whine, eyes pressed close, chest heaving under him. Sirius smiles.

"You wouldn't," Remus manages to press out.

"I could," Sirius assures him and thrusts his hips deliberately slowly against Remus'. "But I won't if you ask me not to."

Remus opens his eyes then, pupils blown out so much that his iris is just a thin, bright ring around it. He licks his lips and focuses on Sirius. "Don't."

It's a command and not a request – they both know it, it's part of the game. Sirius smiles gently and then grips the hair on his nape firmly, making him arch his neck.

"You have to ask nicely," Sirius says softly.

"Please, don't do it," Remus relents.

Sirius narrows his eyes and scans Remus' face carefully. He looks pained at first sight, eyebrows raised and furrowed a little, eyes big and shining. But there is an ever so slight quirk to his lip, a small crease at the corner of his mouth. He gave up, but not completely. Too quickly, too readily. Sirius grins wider.

"Not good enough," he says sternly. "I want to hear you beg. You have one last chance."

Remus' nostrils widen minutely, quick tongue wetting his lower lip, and he stares at Sirius for a short moment. Sirius looks right back, unwavering. And then something snaps in him, expression going slack for a millisecond, and Sirius feels a well-known jolt of excitement at that. Remus lifts both hands, cupping Sirius' face, bringing him closer.

"Sirius, please, I beg you," he says and there is honest desperation in his voice. "Please, don't do it. I couldn't stand it."

Sirius kisses him then, sucking on his lower lip, trailing his tongue over Remus' teeth, swallowing the small noises he makes at the light rocking of their hips together. Sirius couldn't care less about the dominance aspect of their foreplay, there is nothing there that arouses him about hearing Remus beg for something. What gets him off is how much he enjoys it, his reaction when that itch is satisfied, the way he can let go afterwards when that bridge is crossed.

"What do you want, baby?" Sirius asks when they separate again, panting, lips aching pleasantly.

"I want to make you feel good," he breathes, and his hands are suddenly everywhere – Sirius' neck, shoulders, chest, lower back. "Please, love, let me fuck you. I promise you will feel so good."

Sirius smiles and nods. "Okay," he says readily. "Do it."

Remus lifts up, taking Sirius with him, sliding from under and positioning him on his knees, facing the padded headboard of the hotel bed upright.

"Just a second," Remus murmurs gently, placing a quick kiss on the back of his neck. "Be right back."

With a grin, Sirius waits patiently for him to shuffle through an open suitcase at the end of the bed. Soon, the mattress behind him dips again and Remus presses his chest against Sirius' back. One hand, warm and slippery, closes over Sirius' hard cock, the other glides in between his cheeks, and it's Remus who moans when he slides a finger inside of him.

It's torturous, even though Remus is far beyond the point of teasing now. Sirius can feel his impatience by the slight shaking of his hands, the way he bites down on Sirius' shoulder, his fast, urgent movements.

"Remus, I swear to God, I will do it myself if you don't get a move on," Sirius growls and rocks down on his fingers impatiently. "I'm not a virgin, stop treating me like one."

"Shh," Remus whispers and kisses somewhere behind his ear hurriedly, taking away his fingers and pressing the tip of his cock to the entrance. "I'm here, love, I'm here…"

Sirius moans through clenched teeth when he thrusts in and tips his head back to lay on Remus' broad shoulder. It's slow, way too slow at first, but Remus miraculously finds the exact right angle on the first try, and Sirius blisses out instantly.

Blood rushes through his ears and his fingers hurt from gripping the headboard too tightly. He clocks in that Remus is saying something, murmuring in his ear hotly, but he can't make out the words – it's all a massive blur, shots of pure pleasure going through his spine at every thrust, every stroke.

"Fuck, I'm coming," Sirius moans and freezes suddenly, head swimming because Remus stops pumping him and instead grips the base of his cock firmly.

"Not yet," Remus says smugly and sucks at the junction of his neck and shoulder hard, still fucking into him at a rapid pace.

Sirius shakes violently, gasping for air, unable to say anything. It's an overwhelming sensation, he feels his cock pulsing dangerously and every time Remus grazes his prostate, he thinks he will come anyway. But he doesn't, balancing on a hair-thin brink instead, just before the peak but not quite there.

He hears himself sob loudly, and his whole body aches from tensing up so much, every muscle clenched in preparation. Remus behind him moans quietly and slings his other arm tightly around Sirius' chest, dragging him down on his cock with every thrust.

"Oh God," he breathes and presses his damp forehead against Sirius' nape, his hips snapping faster and faster, trembling from the impact. "I love you, I love you, I love you…"

Sirius feels him come inside of him, hot and hard, and cries out suddenly, because Remus releases his hold, pumping him again one single time before his vision goes completely and an orgasm so strong, he thinks he might choke ripples through him.

They slump against the headboard, completely spent, and Sirius laughs helplessly into his elbow. Remus nuzzles his neck, breathing fast and shallow.

"Damn, Remus," Sirius says giddily. "What the fuck. This was something else."

Remus huffs into his neck and places a gentle kiss on his sweaty skin. " You're something else," he says breathlessly. "Fuck, I don't think I even had real sex before I met you."

If that isn't true… It really feels like any sex Sirius had before has been just some inconsequential, awkward fumbling. Satisfying on a physical level, maybe, but nothing compared to this.

"I did nothing, it's all you," Sirius says surely and winces when Remus slides out of him with a filthy sound. "Baby, you have to help me, I can't move. My legs completely cramped up."

"Sorry, sorry," Remus says hurriedly and wraps his arms around Sirius to lift him up.

What are you apologizing for, Sirius wants to ask, laughing inwardly. This is absolutely perfect.

The week goes by way too quickly in Sirius' opinion. It's absolutely magical. They spend their days roaming the city, visiting every landmark they've missed before, dining in small pubs and cafés, lazily eating ice cream on fountain ledges and hiding from the heat in all kinds of peculiar museums and galleries.

Sirius gets to know the city he already adores even better. Remus has an incredible amount of historical knowledge and fun legends to tell about almost anything they visit. Sirius jokes that Remus would be very successful if he was to guide any walking tours, and Remus is, surprisingly, even a little offended at that.

"I'm not telling all of that to random strangers," he says and tuts. Sirius feels unbelievably warm inside.

Remus shows Sirius the university he studied in during his semester in Prague, takes him around the neighbourhood he lived in over that time – it's not as impressive and grand as the old town centre, but it's all the more beautiful with the stories Remus tells him about everything he's been up to. One evening they meet with his friends that have stayed in Prague, getting absolutely shitfaced on rich beer and, to Remus' unsuccessful protests, tequila.

Remus' friends are all incredibly kind people, some of them already finished their education and are in very serious, adult positions in life. Some are still struggling a bit with what they want to do when they grow up. It's a comforting mix and Sirius doesn't feel left out at all.

But after dozens of thousands of steps, six days of a healthy mix between cultural and fun experiences, a lot of amazing hotel sex and an unknown amount of Czech beer, the holiday is almost over.

On their last day in Prague, they retrace their first day here from the convention weekend. It's a silent agreement between them all this time, they don't even have to discuss it, it's just very obvious that they save it up for last.

It's very early in the morning when they walk over the Charles Bridge – the air is still a bit fresh, there are almost no tourists around, the small vendors and street musicians haven't set up their stands yet and there is a huge flock of seagulls sitting on the sculptures.

They stop in the same spot they did last time and Remus climbs on the ledge with a grin, facing Sirius.

"Here we are."

Sirius squints at him against the bright morning sun and smiles. "I have noticed that you haven't smoked at all this week," he says. "You know you can smoke if you want to? I'm fine, really."

Remus frowns a little and then cocks his head, confused. "What?" he asks and then smiles. "Are you having me on?"

Sirius shrugs. "No, of course not."

After a small stretch of silence, Remus puts a hand on Sirius' forehead as if testing his temperature. "Love, you alright? I quit smoking literally months ago."

Sirius blanks for a long moment and then snorts. "No, you haven't."

"Yes," Remus says slowly and raises his eyebrows. "I'm pretty sure I did. It was horrible at first. How haven't you noticed?"

"I thought you did it when I wasn't around," Sirius says, still confused. "To not trigger me or something. You really quit? But why?"

"Sirius," Remus says, exasperated, "you have asthma. Of course, I quit."

"You quit for me?!" Sirius exclaims. "What happened to the 'I'd rather cut my hand off'?"

Remus scrunches up his nose and laughs. "This doesn't sound like something I would say."

"Err, yes, yes it does," Sirius argues and positions himself between Remus' legs, rubbing his thighs softly. "That's exactly what you said. And then you said that you loved it."

With an expression Sirius' can't easily identify, Remus trails a hand through his hair and cups his jaw. "I love you ," he says simply and kisses Sirius. "Things change, I guess."

That's what Sirius has been thinking all week, actually. He, for some reason, expected Prague to be different from how it was when he first visited, but it was a silly idea – the town is incredibly old, and if some clock can survive over six hundred years, two world wars and the rapid gentrification, then nothing would change over a couple of months. The city is exactly the same – it's Sirius who changed.

New home, new work, new partner, new friendships, reactivated ties to his family, even a new feeling of certainty that what he's studying is exactly what he wants to do. He feels different as well – more calm, definitely happier, less anxious, more secure.

Things still catch up with him unexpectedly, of course. Sometimes, he sees a random redhead in the crowd and his heart drops, or he sits in his lectures and can't understand anything, feeling lost and useless all over, before his phone pings up with some notifications from the lab chat.

Sometimes, he walks into the cell culture lab, Remus sitting with his back turned to him, and Sirius is instantly transported to that first day he met him – snarky and reserved – feeling small and insignificant, until Remus turns around and smiles at him, or makes a joke, or asks him to pass something with a 'please' and 'thank you'.

And things snap back to the present.

They walk off the bridge then, past the narrow steps with the traffic light, into the museum yard. Remus buys them coffee and breakfast at the café there, sitting down at the exact same table they sat at last time. Sirius waits for a déjà vu moment, but it never comes, because Remus is telling some silly story about his university days, and his hand is a warm weight on Sirius' thigh.

The yard starts filling up with people soon after, and it's like someone turned up the volume on everything – the early morning calm is almost over, and Remus takes his hand when they walk down the steps to the place where it all began.

It's empty, thankfully, and they sit down on the wide stone ledge, letting their feet dangle over the shore of the river. Sirius leans a little against Remus' shoulder, feeling content and nostalgic in equal measure. He thinks back to the person he was, back then, and can't help but feel a bit sad. Wants to show his past self how far he would go in such a short amount of time. Tell him how many good things will come after all the nasty ones are done and over with. He wishes he had that kind of perspective then.

"You know," Remus begins with a smile in his voice, "this is my most favourite place in the whole world. Even more so after this year."

Sirius grins and nods in agreement.

"What's yours?" Remus asks.

"Oh," Sirius says mischievously, "see, there is this amazing coffee shop down the street from uni, it serves the best panini–"

Remus kicks his foot, annoyed, and Sirius laughs softly. When he turns to face Remus, there is a frown between his brows, but his eyes are laughing. Sirius sighs and brushes his fingers over his cheekbone, before leaning his forehead against Remus'.

"My favourite place is wherever you are, Remus Lupin," Sirius whispers, and his voice is much steadier than how he feels inside.

They kiss then, obviously, and Sirius has to rethink his opinion again – the anticipation before a kiss is nice in its own right, but there is nothing better than to kiss the person you love and have absolutely no doubts about it.

FIN

Notes:

I'm not crying, you're crying...

Chapter 18: Epilogue

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

One year later

Sirius turns this way and that way in front of the large mirror and tries to tuck his dress shirt in more neatly. Then fumbles with his tie.

"You look good," Remus' deep voice sounds behind him and Sirius looks up from his fingers to watch him standing in the door frame.

He's wearing the same formal suit as Sirius, but somehow it looks way better on him – tidy and impossibly casual at the same time. It's completely unfair how he looks amazing in everything – baggy, knitted jumpers, old hoodies, button-downs, t-shirts, naked…

"Here, let me," Remus says, amused, and walks over to fix Sirius' tie for him.

Sirius sighs and lets him, watching his concentrated face with a small smile. He smooths down the fabric one last time and smiles too, content with his work.

"You know," Remus muses, "maybe one day it's going to be James who wears the best man outfit instead of us."

With a cheeky grin, Sirius wraps his hands around his waist and cocks his head. "Is this your way of proposing?" he jokes.

Remus' face does something complicated, before smoothing into a neutral expression again. Sirius suppresses a laugh.

"Just testing the waters," he murmurs and places a soft kiss on Sirius' forehead.

"Where's the fun in that?" Sirius quips. "No pain, no gain, baby. If you want an answer, you have to ask first."

There is no reaction to that, but Sirius doesn't need any. He knows very well that Remus already has a ring and is currently going through his usual fretting before scraping up the courage to present it. It can happen at any moment now, and Sirius is a bit annoyed about having to carry his own ring at all times, just in case. Sometimes, he thinks about asking first, simply to annoy Remus by beating him to it.

Would it be bad taste to propose at someone else's wedding? Would Lily be mad at them for stealing the show? Sirius ponders it for a brief moment and decides that it would definitely be too rude, at least before the ceremony. Maybe after, at the party. He might as well do it if Single Ladies comes on or something.

"My men," James says with a flourish, turning up at the entrance to the dressing room, "it's time."

They both turn towards him and grin.

"You lucky bastard," Sirius says and punches his shoulder, walking past. "You don't deserve her, and you know it."

"You really don't," Remus says in a grave tone, patting his shoulder as well.

"Thanks, guys," James grumbles, following them out, "really appreciate your support right now."

The event hall is a good size – not too small, not too big. About sixty people are invited to the wedding, just family and close friends with their plus one. Of course, the whole lab crew is assembled for this miraculous occurrence – James Potter has finally gotten the girl. They almost lost faith that it would ever happen.

Lily looks absolutely stunning, walking down the aisle, her father – just as ginger and tall as her – by her side. Sirius can't see James' face, standing behind him next to Remus and Peter, but he's sure that he's either smiling like a fool or crying already. Suddenly overcome with feeling, Sirius grabs Remus' hand behind their back and draws in a shaky breath when he holds on just as tightly.

Everything goes smoothly – they say their vows, they kiss, they cry. Every box is ticked, especially after Remus delivers his best man speech at the table after the ceremony. It's funny and just the right amount of obscene, then suddenly heartfelt and beautiful. Sirius watches him proudly, laughing and clapping along with everyone else, and is again grateful that he offered to do it – Sirius wouldn't have done such a great job at that.

"Your delivery was on point," Sirius tells Remus at the bar after the dinner is over and the night has moved on to the dancing and drinking part.

Remus turns around with a blinding smile and salutes with his champagne flute. "Thanks, I practised a lot in the shower."

Sirius laughs and smooths out some invisible wrinkles from Remus' suit jacket. "I heard," he says and smiles. "I wish you didn't cut out the 'getting acid all over himself and stripping in front of the whole lab' part."

"I figured he'd probably get in trouble for that because he wasn't wearing a lab coat like he's supposed to," Remus says and chuckles. "Or else there would have been no need to actually get naked."

"Rules are there for a reason," Sirius agrees in a grave tone.

"I'm glad you remember," Remus murmurs and kisses him softly, setting the flute down on the bar without looking to wrap his arms around Sirius.

They get rudely interrupted by someone making an honest-to-God choking sound next to them. Sirius looks over his shoulder, confused and a little offended, but ready to give the person the benefit of the doubt.

Two stools over is a large man with a thick, black moustache that stands in high contrast to his rapidly reddening face. Next to him, a woman with an unnaturally long neck and outrageous pink dress makes a face of utter disgust.

"Yes?" Remus asks them in his 'don't fuck with me' voice and Sirius tenses up.

The man splutters, getting, if at all possible, even more red in the face. Sirius honestly worries that he might crumble with a heart attack right on the spot.

"This is revolting," the man spits in their faces and clenches his meaty fists.

Remus cocks his head and Sirius looks at him, nervous, clocking in his widened eyes and lips pressed into a firm line. Oh-oh.

" Excuse me?" Remus growls. "Are you, by chance, talking about my partner and me?"

The woman wrinkles her nose and lays a bony palm on the huge shoulder of her companion. Sirius has never met them before and doesn't really know whom they belong to – they are definitely not their co-workers.

"Come on, Vernon, no use in talking to this sort," she says acidly.

The man, Vernon, grunts something under his breath that Sirius doesn't quite catch over the music, but Remus is already on his feet, eyes burning with rage, and makes a threatening lurch at him that Sirius just about manages to stop by gripping his shoulder.

"Remus," he whispers feverishly, "don't! Not at the wedding! Forget them."

"Let me go," Remus hisses, eyes not once leaving the pair behind Sirius. "I'm not going to ignore that!"

Just as Sirius thinks this is going to escalate too quickly, Lily steps out of the crowd and to the bar, holding up her long gown with one hand. Her face is cold as stone, but her eyes are narrowed and fiery, wisps of hair falling out of her complicated up-do and framing her face. Sirius has never seen her so beautiful before, not even during the ceremony.

"What is going on here?" she asks demandingly, looking between Remus and Vernon with suspicion, then at the woman. "Tuney?"

Oh, so this is her sister! And her wonderful, homophobic husband. Terrific. Remus seems to calm down a bit at that, taking a step back and jerkily adjusting his jacket. Sirius lets him go but remains on guard, just in case.

"Nothing," Remus says with disdain and takes a large gulp of his drink. Sirius can see his hand shaking with suppressed rage.

It would have been over at that if Vernon had the decency to take his bigoted ass somewhere else. But, unfortunately, he didn't.

"I didn't realize freaks were allowed here," he says to his wife. "I wouldn't have come if I knew."

Things happen a bit too quickly for Sirius to react in time. For a man of his size and complexion, Vernon seems to have a very sensitive bone structure. At least, in his face. He rears back from the impact of the hit, holding his hands up to his bloodied nose and grunts loudly. His wife shrieks and tries to hold him up.

"Fuck!" Sirius exclaims and looks at Remus with shocked eyes, not believing what just happened.

Remus looks back at him, just as shocked. Then they both simultaneously turn to Lily, who is shaking out her hand and wincing. Vernon and her sister leave then, stumbling and cursing, his white shirt soaked with blood from his, hopefully, broken nose.

"Oh my God," Sirius says excitedly and shakes his head, watching Lily climb on a barstool and lean over the counter to grab some ice and a napkin for her hand. "That was brilliant!"

She laughs and looks at them a little proudly. "I'm sorry about what they said. But I was dreaming of doing that for a very long time."

Sirius places a soft hand on her elbow. "Lily, honey, it is not too late to dump Potter," he says conspiratorially. "Marry me instead! You know, I have better hair than him."

Lily gives him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, babe, I think that ship has sailed." She winks at Remus. "Also, I think your boyfriend might object."

"Absolutely not," Remus says casually. "I support that notion. You should join us – we can get a custom bed made, and I brew amazing coffee. We will be everything you ever need."

"Yes!" Sirius claps his hands. "I don't know if I can get a hard-on for you, Lily, but I will definitely try my best. I heard that I am very proficient with my mouth too, and I'd like you to know that."

Remus nods vigorously. "I can confirm it. I'm sure we can figure something out. If we would go straight for someone, it's going to be you."

"Dreamgirl!" Sirius sighs dramatically.

"Soulmate!" Remus quips.

"Boys!" Lily bursts out laughing and lays her face on the bar. "That's quite enough."

Their hysteric laughter continues even as James appears next to them with a bright grin. "I heard a rumour that my wife was involved in a fistfight !" he announces and looks at her iced hand with pride. "What are you laughing about?"

"They are set on stealing me from you," Lily snitches and giggles. "Thank you for coming to my rescue, now they will leave me alone."

Sirius purses his lips and gives James an assessing once-over. "I guess Potter can stay as well, I kind of dig his messy style," he drawls and smirks. "I know it's a bit unconventional, but we would make a beautiful patchwork family."

James laughs and claps him on the shoulder. "I appreciate it, mate, but who told you that I would want to bump uglies with you?"

"Oh," Sirius says, disappointed. "He's straight as an arrow. I forgot." Then he turns to Remus and grimaces. "I guess that leaves only you…"

Remus kisses him soundly, not at all offended. "My condolences for your loss, love."

Three years later

Sirius bites some skin on his thumb absentmindedly, reading through an email from Kingsley. It's long, rambling, and there are three Excel sheets attached that, frankly, Sirius is a bit afraid to open.

The auditorium around him is filling up slowly and Sirius returns some greetings from fellow students. He hasn't seen any of them over the summer, busy with exams, work, and enjoying the most perfect trip to Spain that gave him a nice tan and a clear head before the next semester.

He closes his laptop just in time to see the lecturer walk in – curly hair, light-brown jumper, a crisp white collar sticking out of it, black jeans – and grins excitedly. The auditorium quiets down quickly, it's only about forty people here, and there isn't even a need for a microphone so that everyone can hear the lecture.

"Welcome to your last Master's semester." Sirius nods along with everyone else. "My name is Remus Lupin, and I will be your lecturer for Advanced Applications of Cell Therapy over the next months."

Sirius watches Remus from his middle-row seat and feels a familiar pride at the way he speaks, the way he perches casually against the presentation stand, the way he flicks effortlessly through the slides accompanying his speech. Sirius thought that Remus' place was in the lab, but he was wrong – he was truly in his element when he was teaching.

"This module constitutes of one lecture, held by yours truly." Remus smiles indulgingly. "One seminar, led by my very capable assistant." He points to Mary in the front row, who stands up for a second and gives a friendly wave to the auditorium. "And a two-week lab course with me at the end of the semester."

Sirius smiles to himself, remembering how much Remus hated Mary at the beginning. It was a constant struggle between them, right until the time when her internship was over. Then, suddenly, they seemed to have reached an understanding – for some reason Sirius can't quite grasp, but is grateful for, nonetheless. It irks him a little that she is now working with Remus all the time instead of him, but then he remembers that he was the one directly responsible for the fact that she even made it through the internship and pushes the feeling away. It's not like he has any time for another job.

Just as he thinks that Remus adds, "I am willing to exempt you from the lab course if you have already worked with cell therapy applications before. Part-time work, internships, thesis work." Then his eyes land directly on Sirius, and he smirks evilly. "Except for Mr Black," he drawls, very content with himself, "who will definitely have to finish this lab course with me."

It's like the whole auditorium turns to gape at him, and Sirius bites his lip and sends his most annoyed glare at Remus, trying not to smile and not to blush at the same time. That fucker.

"Excuse me, Dr Lupin." Sirius raises his hand, but only for show. "Can you please elaborate on why I am apparently suffering discrimination in your module?"

Some people laugh, others start whispering furiously. Remus seems unbothered by all of that. He smiles, as if he expected that, and raises his eyebrows challengingly.

"You would need a confirmation letter from your supervisor that describes your work, listing all the applications you have performed," he says calmly and lets his eyes wander over the rest of the class. "That goes for everyone, obviously. No discrimination here, Mr Black."

Sirius grinds his teeth and huffs, slumping in his chair. It's not like he's mad about having the opportunity to work with Remus again, it's just the principle of it. Also, it's embarrassing to be picked out in front of everyone like that.

"What makes you think my supervisor wouldn't write such a letter, Dr Lupin ?" Sirius asks loudly over the noise.

He knows that it makes Remus crazy when he calls him that. And he also knows that others in this class will now start calling him 'Doctor' as well, now that Sirius has set an example. It's his petty, but sweet revenge.

"See me after class," Remus says with a frown, but Sirius knows this expression well. The corners of his mouth are twitching slightly, and the tilt of his head is too relaxed to be real annoyance. Sirius huffs and rolls his eyes.

The rest of the lecture goes well – it's just an introduction and Sirius knows most of it already, thanks to his official internship where he worked closely on cell therapy applications . With Remus. What a brat.

When the lecture is over, Sirius remains seated while everybody else filters out of the auditorium. He gets some sympathetic glances from students that don't know him well and some amused grins from friends that know exactly who he is to Remus.

"Dr Lupin," Sirius says apprehensively and smirks, walking up to him. "You wanted to talk to me?"

Remus looks up from his laptop screen and gives him an assessing once-over. Sirius bites his lip and looks around quickly to make sure that they are really alone, before grabbing him by the collar and kissing him. Remus' lips are stretched in a smile as he eagerly reciprocates.

"I would appreciate it if you toned down your cheek during my lectures, Mr Black," Remus says sternly but his eyes are glittering with mirth.

"Oh," Sirius drawls in mock disappointment, "but I thought this is exactly how you like me?"

Remus huffs a laugh. "You're a little shit and you know it."

"Oi! You started!" Sirius exclaims. "What was that even supposed to mean? Will you really not accept my internship at the lab for your course."

"I'm afraid not, Mr Black," Remus says and sighs theatrically. "I guess you'll have to suffer through some more time with me."

Sirius shakes his head fondly. "You are unbelievable," he grumbles but doesn't actually feel annoyed. "You are using your position to take advantage of me."

Remus smiles slowly and brushes an invisible speck of dust off Sirius' hoodie, before leaning in for another kiss. "You didn't complain when I did that this morning though…"

"Scandalous!" Sirius gasps into the kiss and laughs. "You should be ashamed of yourself, professor."

"Not yet," Remus corrects him.

"Soon," Sirius assures him and sighs. "Okay, baby, I've got to run. Pub with the lab crew tonight?"

Remus nods and smiles at him. "See you there, love."

Five years later

Sirius discards the pipette tip in the waste bin and rolls his tense shoulders. There was an emergency power shut-off this morning, and he had to be in the lab by six to wrap up the cultivation without losing this week's batch completely. The whole downstairs lab has been going crazy all morning, with people running around in panic trying to prepare everything. The shut-off was only scheduled for two hours but that would be enough for the cells to die on him without the proper temperature regulation.

He strongly considers crashing on the small two-seat couch in his office until lunch, but just as he's about to do that, the lab door opens and someone walks up to him hesitantly.

"Hi. Are you Sirius?"

With an inward groan, Sirius swivels around on his stool and faces the guy who is standing behind him. He's incredibly tall and lanky with bright-red hair in a low ponytail. Sirius musters him pensively for a moment. He looks young, barely over twenty if he had to guess. And is that a fucking shark tooth hanging from his ear?

"Hello," Sirius says and nods, "I am. And you are?"

"Bill. Bill Weasley," the guy says and thrusts a bare hand in his direction. Sirius raises an eyebrow and looks pointedly at his own gloved hands. Bill blushes and gives him an awkward wave instead. "I'm your new intern."

Ah, of course. Sirius thought his name was William, but who is he to judge people's reluctance to use their full names. And if he didn't know that already he would have guessed by the fact that Bill is wearing a lab coat. Inside his cell culture lab. Fucking James.

"Brilliant," Sirius says and hopes it doesn't sound too annoyed. He's just very tired and stressed, not actually an asshole. At least, that's what he would like to believe. "I have to finish this, but I'll be with you in a sec. While I do that you can go on and take off this nasty coat before you contaminate my cells. And wash your hands."

Bill makes an apologetic noise and runs off. Sirius rolls his eyes.

He inoculates the new culture bag and quickly places it on the reactor tray before the medium cools down too much. His whole experiment plan is fucked now – he wasn't supposed to stop this week's cultivation until Monday morning, but it would be a waste to not start a new one over the weekend. His due date was creeping up slowly but surely.

Bill comes back as Sirius finishes hooking the bag up, now with gloves on and lab coat off.

"What are you working on?" he asks curiously.

Sirius leans against the lab desk and points to the reactor. "This is a WAVE bioreactor. I'm writing my dissertation on the production of the Wnt3A protein with HEK293 cells on an industrial scale."

"Cool," Bill decides.

Sirius grins tiredly. "It is, isn't it?" He sighs and rubs his eyes. "Come on, I'll show you around now. There is not much left to do in the lab today. You should come in sooner from now on."

"Oh." Bill nods eagerly. "When should I be here?"

"I think eight-thirty would be enough," Sirius says. "I arrive around seven or eight every day, but I don't do any lab work until about nine. This is the only calm hour I have to get ahead on my dissertation."

By the time Sirius is done with the tour, he has developed a headache and feels like the neon lights are stabbing him in the eyes every time he is careless enough to look up. The lab is emptier now, most of his colleagues have gone to lunch already – they have been working at least two hours earlier than usual. Coffee is needed.

"Hey, mate." James peers out from the kitchenette when Sirius walks into the communal area with Bill by his side. "Coffee?"

"Please," Sirius groans and slumps in a chair. "You want one too, Billy?"

"Sure, thanks."

James gives them a thumbs up and the sound of grinding beans is like music to Sirius' ears.

"Are you coming to the pub tonight?" Sirius asks when James sits down at the table with them and places three cups down. "Or are you on Harry duty?"

"Harry duty," James confirms. "Lily is visiting her sister tonight."

Sirius makes a face but decides not to comment, opting for a large gulp of the sub-par coffee. He didn't even have the time to brew his own this morning. What a day.

"Speaking of Harry…" James begins and grins. "Would you babysit tomorrow?"

"Sometimes I think you made me the godfather of your child to save money on real babysitters," Sirius drawls but grins as well.

"You're just great with kids."

"I'm great with everyone," Sirius corrects him loftily and winks at Bill.

"Except for in-laws," James says with a loaded look.

Sirius groans and closes his eyes, slumping further in his chair. "God, don't bring that up again." He shakes his head and chuckles. "Lyall called me a corporate slut yesterday over Facetime."

Bill snorts into his coffee and Sirius makes big eyes at him, laughing along.

"Did he really say that?" James asks, scandalized.

"That was the gist of a twenty-minute lecture," Sirius says gravely and waves a hand, dismissing the topic altogether. He really likes Lyall and Hope and knows that it's not a personal attack on him – Remus actually takes these things way closer to heart than Sirius himself. "You want us to take the little monster for the whole weekend?"

James clasps his hands in silent prayer. "You're my saviour. Is that really okay?"

Sirius nods and smiles. "Sure, we love Harry, the house has been awfully quiet while you were on holiday. We can take him into the woods or something."

"Perfect," James says gratefully.

With a final gulp of coffee, Sirius claps on his thighs and stands up, feeling a bit better already. "Alright, let's grab some lunch, Billy. I will show you how to prepare the lab for a workday after that. Are you down for going to the pub with us later?"

Bill smiles shyly. "I'd love that!"

The rest of the day seems to stretch forever. On any other day, Sirius would have finished sooner and gone home to write a bit more on his dissertation before Remus is off, but he doesn't want to miss the pub night. Especially not the first time Bill has joined them.

Sirius actually enjoys having interns, never really forgetting what it was like to be in their shoes even if it has been over five years since he first stepped foot into this lab. He thinks about meeting Remus for the first time and smiles to himself while Bill babbles something about his little brothers on the way over to the pub. How things have changed since then.

He remembers Remus, a little younger, a little brasher, a little less patient. Time has the tendency to smooth over sharp edges and both of them have not been removed from that notion. Now, years later, Sirius can't really recognize himself as he was during his Bachelor's. He was a hot mess, so lost and unsure. But now, with the help of Remus, always unwaveringly supportive, bless him, and a painful but liberating year in therapy, Sirius feels like he can look back on himself without the drowning feeling of doom as has been customary for him before that.

It's funny how Remus said that he wouldn't for the life of him agree to be twenty-two again and Sirius didn't really believe he meant it. Now Sirius is twenty-seven, almost as old as Remus has been when they met, and fully agrees with that sentiment. It has taken a lot of time and effort to get to the comfortable place he is at now, and he wouldn't want to repeat that journey again.

The pub is bustling, like always, and Sirius guides Bill through the crowd to their usual table, waving at Kingsley at the bar on the way. From a distance, he can see the familiar curly hair and smiles. Remus is sitting at the table already, reading something on his phone, but looks up as soon as Sirius and Bill emerge from the crowd as if having a sixth sense for his presence.

"You look like death warmed over," Remus says by way of greeting and gives Sirius a worried look.

Sirius snorts and shakes his head. "Remus, this is Bill Weasley, my new intern. Bill, this is–"

"Professor Lupin!" Bill exclaims, awed and apparently in no need of an introduction. "Wow, this is so nice to meet you! Your presentation at the symposium was truly inspiring."

Teacher's pet, Sirius thinks with some annoyance and rolls his eyes. Remus gives Bill an indulgent smile, pocketing his phone and extending a hand. "Nice to meet you too, Bill. Sorry, I don't think I remember you."

"Oh, no, no, it's fine," Bill babbles on, shaking his hand eagerly. Sirius raises an eyebrow at Remus and grins – when he was still a student it wasn't a thing to give your professor heart-eyes like that. Not even if they were as young and good-looking as Remus.

With a quiet groan, Sirius plops down on the bench beside him and strokes a stray lock away from his forehead. "How was your day, baby?"

Remus smiles at him. "Good. Mostly meeting with the research groups. Beginning of the month, you know how that goes. How was yours?"

Sirius pouts and sighs "Objectively good. Subjectively horrific. My whole planning is fucked now, I might have to go in for an hour or so on Sunday to check the bag." Remus hums sympathetically. "Oh, and we have Harry for the weekend. James will drop the bugger off tomorrow morning."

"Sweet," Remus says enthusiastically. "I missed him over the summer."

He drags a hand over Sirius' thigh and leans down for a kiss. Sirius smiles and kisses him back, never not amazed by how perfectly they fit together, like two puzzle pieces. Remus teasingly swipes his tongue over his lower lip but retreats quickly after that without deepening the kiss further, mindful of the company.

When they look up, Bill is watching them with wide eyes and an open mouth, before his eyes inevitably travel down to the ring on Remus' finger. Sirius rolls his eyes and holds up his own left hand. "Before you go around spreading rumours about your professor," he adds with a smirk.

Bill flushes instantly, closing his mouth with an audible click, and clears his throat. "Err…" He looks around desperately and Remus chuckles next to Sirius. "Can I get you both something to drink?"

Good boy. Sirius nods gratefully and looks over to Remus with raised eyebrows. Remus grins and reaches into his pocket to toss Sirius the car keys. "You're driving tonight."

Sirius sighs and shrugs. "A coke for me then and a red wine for Professor Doctor Lupin," he says, and smirks at the way Remus tightens the hold on his knee. Bill nods and disappears into the crowd, a look of utter humiliation on his face. "You'll have to drop me off on Monday then. My bike is still at the lab."

Remus places another short kiss on his lips. "Anything for you, love."

Notes:

And that's a wrap, my friends!
Thank you so much for going on this journey with me, rooting for our boys, hurting for them and laughing with them. Thank you for talking to me and motivating me to write more. I appreciate every single one of you. This was the longest work I've ever written and I'm so over the moon that the majority of you liked it.
Tell me what you think of the fic as a whole in the comments and I hope I will see you again in the next stories I will post.
Love you!

Chapter 19: Bonus: Christmas with the Lupins

Notes:

Oh, hey, not me casually dropping a bonus chapter ;)
This is my Christmas gift to you, I hope you enjoy!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Ah… Uoooahhh…

Sirius startles awake and takes a few moments to collect himself and figure out what is going on. His nose and exposed shoulders are cold, and he shimmies further down under the blanket, trying to escape the harsh reality that is winter in England.

Ahhahhhh…

The blanket cocoon next to him starts moving in annoyance.

"For the love of God, why do you keep doing this…" Remus groans.

Sirius grins and stretches, accompanied by the soul-lifting crooning of Wham!. He has been putting various Christmas songs as his alarm for the past two weeks and only partly because Remus hated it. To be fair, he was less against the Christmas cheer and more annoyed by Sirius setting up alarms at what he called 'the middle of the night' on full blast.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart…

To be fairer, it was the middle of the night – even for Sirius, who was a self-proclaimed early bird, five in the morning was a stretch. With immense power of will, Sirius sits up and sighs.

"It gets me in the mood," Sirius says through a yawn, satisfied with himself.

"Me too," Remus admits darkly. "In the mood for murder."

"Homicide," Sirius muses. "Don't say it too loudly, or Father Christmas will know you've been a very, very naughty boy…"

He chokes on a laugh when Remus grabs him forcefully by the waist and drags him back under the blanket, rolling on top of him and essentially pinning him down into the mattress. He's all hot and soft from sleep, and Sirius shivers a little from the difference of temperature to the room around them

"I was, wasn't I?" Remus murmurs hotly and brings their hips flush together. His morning wood is hard and prominent through the soft material of their pyjama bottoms.

This year, to save me from tears…

Sirius nods eagerly, his mouth already occupied with Remus'. They have kissed thousands, maybe millions of times, and it is, quite predictably, not a burst of fireworks or the birth of a supernova, or whatever people like to describe kissing as. But even after six years together, four years of marriage, a house, a tree, a car, a dog, it's no less amazing.

A lot of things have happened over the years – good and bad – but the only thing that changed is that they've been brought closer together. They fit like puzzle pieces now. It hasn't always been like this, although they definitely clicked from the start, – time, and love, and patience have the tendency to soften the edges, round the corners, and only after the initial honeymoon phase of a relationship is over, does it become clear whether it will stick or not.

Needless to say, Sirius stuck to Remus like superglue.

Remus kisses down his neck, a little more urgently than he usually would if it wasn't five in the morning and Sirius didn't have to leave in an hour, smoothing his palms over Sirius' ink-covered shoulders and arms. That motion is so simple, could even be mistaken as friendly in another situation, but it makes Sirius break out in gooseflesh instantly. He's a very tactile person, he's learned, and Remus knows that.

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart…

With an annoyed sound, Remus bats the blanket away from his head where he's already slithered down to Sirius' stomach and glares at him.

"I will not blow you to the sound of George Michael bemoaning his unrequited love," he says.

Sirius just grins and crosses his arms behind his head on the pillow, looking down at him expectantly. "You will and you know that," he says smugly.

Remus follows his motion with hungry eyes and Sirius makes sure to flex his arms casually, knowing very well that he looks good, and, most importantly, that Remus thinks he looks good.

"You're a brat," Remus says and narrows his eyes. With vindictiveness that is probably mostly due to being woken up three hours before he actually had to get up, he wraps his long fingers firmly around Sirius' cotton-covered cock and gives him two breath-taking pumps. "Turn. It. Off."

Sirius loses his act quickly, arching his back involuntarily, and scrambles blindly for the nightstand where his phone is still spitting out distorted synth sounds. Remus waits patiently, making a point, and Sirius hides a smirk as he snoozes the alarm instead of turning it off completely. It's his little rebellion. If he's lucky, it will go off when it will be him returning the favour, and Remus will be too far gone to do anything about it. That would be hilarious.

"There, satisfied?" Sirius asks into the, admittedly preferable, silence of their bedroom.

Remus just quirks an eyebrow, saying without words that he will be soon, and resumes his mission.

Six years together, four years of marriage, a house, a tr– Oh, fuck!

"Fuck," Sirius moans and cards his fingers through Remus' curls, grabbing him firmly at the nape. "Yeah, baby, like that–"

…a tree, a car, a dog, and Sirius is still not tired of the way Remus gives head. He does it with such undistracted devotion that this alone makes Sirius' stomach clench with pleasure – no one has ever made him feel so wanted, almost worshipped, as Remus in moments like this.

Sirius doesn't last long, Remus makes sure of it, working him quickly and expertly – ever the responsible one, even if it's Sirius who would be late and not him. And when he comes, Remus is there to catch him. Like he always is.

"Good morning, love," Remus says hoarsely and chuckles, coming up again and dragging the discarded blanket with him because it's cold .

"You planned for this, didn't you?" Sirius asks, still a bit breathless. "Just to say it like that."

Remus cuddles up to him, swinging his leg over Sirius' hips and Sirius grabs his thigh to drag his leg higher, closer. "I don't plan anything before coffee," he murmurs.

Sirius nods and shrugs. Touché.

"I plan on seeing you come before coffee," Sirius offers suggestively and drags his hand along Remus' thigh, up to his ass.

"Mhh." Remus smiles into his mouth and then kisses him, deep and sweet. "I could live with a plan like that…"

They laugh and Sirius rolls them over, landing on top of Remus and grinding down with his hip in a way that he knows makes Remus keen. He weighs his options quickly and decides that he can forego his coffee in favour of a better orgasm for his husband, which is really one of the easiest decisions he has ever had to make.

Sirius braces the cold again and reaches over to the nightstand to fumble through the drawer. Remus latches onto his neck and hums appreciatively, correctly guessing the turn of events, when Sirius comes back with the lube.

"Looks like my Christmas present has come earlier?" he jokes as Sirius frees him of his bottoms and positions himself between his legs. "Boxing Day is tomorrow, remember?"

Sirius snorts and quickly slicks up his hand before nudging Remus' legs further apart. He complies eagerly and lets out a long exhale when Sirius drags his fingers over his hole.

Sliding just the tip of one finger in, Sirius stills and smirks. "Oh, really? Shall we wait until tomorrow then?"

Remus moans and throws his head back, rolling his hips urgently, only the idea of waiting making him lose it. His cock is flushed and stiff against his stomach – a picture Sirius has the utmost privilege to see very regularly, and still, he would gladly etch it onto the insides of his eyelids if he could.

He relents and slides his finger in fully, revelling in the way Remus' walls pulse around him, the way he fists the sheets, the sounds he makes when Sirius adds a second finger and crooks them up just right.

Remus' cock is now letting out what seems like a continuous stream of pre-come, and Sirius leans down to take him into his mouth, matching the movement of his fingers.

Six years together, four years of marriage, a house, a tree, a car, a dog, and Sirius still can't get enough of how Remus tastes on the verge of orgasm. It's a heady feeling, something he barely gotten used to over the years – reducing his usually so composed and calm husband into a pile of moaning, shivering, writhing hot mess.

"Fuck, Sirius," Remus presses out through his teeth. Sirius smirks around his cock, as much as he can, anyway. There he goes, sliding familiarly into a stream of unfiltered, unguarded dirty talk. "I fucking love your mouth– Ah! For God's sake, don't you dare stop… Mhh– So good…"

Sirius debates running late just to have the pleasure of doing exactly that, just to edge Remus a while longer, to make him beg for it, which Sirius knows he will do eventually and with great eloquence if the need arises. But it's equally as difficult for him to stop – having sex with Remus is like a drug. Unbelievably euphoric and instantly addicting.

And so, he fucks Remus with his fingers, steady and rhythmic, just the way he likes it, until Sirius feels his climax coming by the way he tenses up all over, if not by the way his blabbering has dried up into a quiet, dazed whine. He comes hard and gasping, thrusting up into Sirius' mouth instinctively which would have been detrimental to Sirius' gag reflex if he wasn't prepared for it from years and years of repetition.

Remus slumps instantly, breathing heavily and trembling a little from the aftermath. Sirius knows that in these couple of minutes, he could do anything to him, could get him to agree to everything if he so wished. That right now was the purest form of Remus Lupin, stripped away of any and all worries, obligations, thoughts and expectations.

Sirius swallows again and clears his throat, feeling the slight burn and smiling to himself as he leans his head on Remus' thigh to gather himself too. He's hard again, could never not get hard when Remus gets like this, and if he didn't have to go to work, he knows they could go at it for a long while – bringing each other up and down, again and again, until they would be both utterly spent and dead on the feet. They have done it countless times before and will undoubtedly do so in the future. Sirius hums and grins at the prospect – he'll have at least four days off until the new year, and he very much looks forward to spending at least half of that time in a horizontal position. Or, actually, whatever position, as long as it involved Remus' cock in his ass. Yeah, that was the only imperative here.

He gets ripped out of his daydream by a loud vibration and the opening notes of his alarm. Remus groans and swats his head lightly. "Are you for real?" he asks, scandalized. "You didn't turn it off?"

Sirius cackles and kisses his hipbone with an air of finality before detaching himself from Remus to start his day. "I actually wanted to time it to go off when you come, but I seem to have miscalculated."

"I hate you," Remus murmurs. "I would never come to that ."

"You would and you know it," Sirius singsongs.

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart…

Sirius strolls down the hallway, the helmet of his motorcycle tucked securely under his arm and hums the catchy melody to himself. He might rethink his Christmas carol alarm for next year, as much fun as it is at when it rings. This damned song. It's not even good.

The security door opens with a beep when he logs in the code, and he continues down the lab hall. The walls are still covered in thesis posters, although mostly different ones since he started working here six years ago. One of them is his, from his Master thesis, hanging proudly next to the cell culture lab door. On the other side is Remus' doctorate poster – a steady reminder of whom he has to thank for everything he managed to achieve since he first walked in here; lost and miserable from all the abuse he suffered, insecure and doubtful about his skills.

He's really come a long way.

Sirius drops off his things in his office and eyes his messy desk guiltily. He might have to clean up before he takes his leave, or else the organisms in the labs won't be the only thing growing in here…

When he walks into his lab, he's greeted, predictably, with the low hum of his reactor, and, unpredictably, with the view of Bill Weasley, sitting on the floor of all places. He has earbuds in and mouths along enthusiastically to whatever he's listening to while he's meticulously wiping down the trays from an incubator.

"Oh, fucking hell!" Bill exclaims, startling violently when he catches Sirius from the corner of his eyes. He tugs out the earbuds and clutches his heart, heaving like he's run a marathon. "What are you doing here?!"

Sirius huffs a laugh and crosses his arms. "What are you doing here?"

Bill's time as his intern is long over now. Since then, he left their lab, focussing on his Bachelor's, then went to Egypt for a semester, and came back for his Master now. He really was good at what he was doing, so, naturally, Sirius offered him a position at the lab as soon as one opened up and Lily asked him if he knew anyone who wanted it.

Now they were working together again, and although Sirius missed having the opportunity to teach students, never having had the chance to work as a tutor himself, he didn't miss the constant stream of interns of varying levels of competence. Good science lived off reproducible results and it was really better if the experiments were all done by the same person and not three different people one after another, taking over from each other at the most random moments during the process. Sirius reverted more and more to doing the majority himself because he could trust his own skills, but now he had the opportunity to relax a little with Bill here permanently.

"Are you blind?" Bill grumbles in a way that makes Sirius smile. "I'm cleaning your nasty hot box."

"Cell sauna," Sirius supplies, falling easily into their favourite game.

"Lively Dutch oven," Bill says in a bored tone, continuing his wiping.

"Contaminated whirlpool," Sirius says, thinking frantically about his next name.

"Crowded beach retreat," Bill continues with a sly smirk.

"Err…"

"Ha!" Bill exclaims victoriously. "I win, old man."

"Who are you calling old, snotty nipper?" Sirius scoffs. The audacity. "Fine. I'll give you that one."

Sirius goes over to the sink to wash his hands and put on gloves, a ritual that stuck with him all the way since he worked with Remus. He did it even if he wasn't going to work with alive organisms – the image of Remus judging him when he would touch the culture fridges or clean benches without gloves already enough to make him go through with it.

"Why are you on the floor?" Sirius asks incredulously as he taps the space bar of the computer hooked up to his bioreactor twice to wake it up from sleep mode.

"More space," Bill answers easily and sets down the tray he's finished with before retrieving the next one.

"I really hope you sanitized the tiles before you did that," Sirius mutters.

Bill snorts. "No, actually, I spat on them before laying the sterile trays on top," he says snarkily. "Thought I'd test how well the antibiotics in the media perform."

Sirius rolls his eyes and doesn't say anything. He's seen much worse from other interns before, but he should stop questioning Bill all the time – the boy was competent enough to warrant some trust.

"You didn't answer why you're here," Sirius mentions, setting up his clean bench with practised ease.

"I did," Bill replies stubbornly. " You didn't."

They stare each other down for a long while until Bill breaks with a huff and shrugs. "Hiding from my family. You?"

Sirius grimaces – he suspected as much. "Hiding from my family," he says back truthfully. "Why are you hiding?"

Bill sighs and raises his red eyebrows sardonically. "I have six siblings, all of them younger, all of them back at home for the holidays. It gets…" He pauses, looking for the right word. "Chaotic." With a mocking grin, he cocks his head at Sirius. "Why are you hiding? Aren't you properly loved up with one of my professors?"

Sirius laughs. "That I am," he says smugly. "No, it's not him. We're hosting Christmas Eve with the in-laws this year."

Bill makes a sympathetic noise and nods. "You don't like them?"

Sirius tugs a little on his glove where it has caught unpleasantly on his wedding ring and sighs. "No, I do like them."

"They don't like you?"

"No, I think they do like me," Sirius says pensively. "It's complicated."

Bill rolls his eyes in an obvious display of 'duh'. "When is it not?" he asks rhetorically. "They got a problem with you being gay?"

"Nah, that's not an issue at all," Sirius says dismissively. "It's just hard for me to be around… parents. I haven't had a picture-book childhood, you know?"

It's not just that, of course, but Sirius doesn't feel comfortable talking about Remus' parents with another person. Opening up about his own mental issues is one thing, but gossip is different. No matter how taxing the Lupins are, he won't go around moaning about it to colleagues.

"So, what, your husband is chill with you fucking off on Christmas Eve to hide in the lab?" Bill asks with his trademark bluntness. "That's a bit suspicious, no? Who works on Christmas Eve?"

"I'm almost done with my experiments for the dissertation," Sirius says with a shrug. "I want the cultivations to be over sooner so I can start with the data analysis and writing. I told him I would have to let them run over Christmas to be on time."

It wasn't exactly a lie, but Sirius has the strong impression that Remus knows fully well why Sirius is still working despite the holidays. The somewhat difficult relationship he has with Lyall and Hope is not a secret, especially not to Remus, and he knows that Sirius doesn't cope well when he feels stuck without a way out. He hasn't said anything against Sirius working through the holidays, apart from being annoyed at his early alarms.

"Yeah, yeah," Bill drawls, "tell that to someone else, buddy. I'm here for all of it. I know what you're doing."

"Watch it, tosser," Sirius says, and Bill shoots him an assessing look, trying to decide whether it was still part of their usual banter, or he actually overstepped.

"Sorry," he says more gently. "I feel you. Sometimes we gotta do what we gotta do, even if it's pretending to be extremely busy science lads in order to regain some sanity."

"Cheers to that," Sirius murmurs and stands up. "I need a coffee. You want?"

"Me want," Bill agrees eagerly and gets up as well, the trays forgotten. "Me much want."

It's late afternoon when Sirius arrives at home again. Lyall's car is already in the driveway – they were due to come over somewhere around noon, and Sirius is grateful that he at least shaved off three to four hours of having to interact with them.

It sounds worse than it is when he phrases it like that…

Although, he might not be the only one who thinks like that because as soon as he kills the engine and pulls off his helmet, the front door opens and Noah slides out sneakily. Without preamble, she jogs down the driveway to him and promptly sits down on the motorcycle behind Sirius.

"Thank God you're here," she moans dramatically. "Take me away from this hell. Come on, quick, before they reeled you in as well!"

Sirius laughs and pats her hands that she clasped around his torso. "It might be too late for that, this thing is loud as fuck. Besides, you're not in the position to ride a bike right now."

He feels her big belly against his back and grins. Remus' sister is very, very pregnant. He would lie if he said he isn't gleefully excited to finally hold the critter in his arms. It's been a journey, that's for sure…

"Nothing can be worse than that," Noah groans but lets go and allows him to gently lift her from the seat.

They walk inside together and are instantly greeted with the smell of Remus' cooking and the sound of classical Christmas carols sounding from the living room. They share a loaded look and Sirius tries his best to smile encouragingly. It's just one evening, they can do this. It's nothing compared to that horrible week in Glasgow they spent all together three years ago.

"Hello!" Sirius exclaims, overly cheery, and knocks twice on the doorframe of their living room, hoping that it would save him from going through individual greetings.

"Sirius, my dear," Hope croons and gets up from the couch, crushing his plan.

She's wearing a dress that looks more like five different, colourful scarfs wrapped haphazardly around her withering frame and smells strongly of incense sticks when she gives him three overwhelming kisses to the cheeks. Sirius has the urge to sneeze.

"Sirius," Lyall grunts and nods in a way that suggests that at least Sirius won't have to suffer through intensive physical contact with him. "Good to see you."

Remus is not in the room, as Sirius woefully notices, and he instantly tries to estimate how long he should stay and chat until it wouldn't be too rude to go find him. Noah walks into the room, shoulder-checking him as if saying 'you better get your ass in here or I'll make sure you won't be able to sit on it for the rest of the week'.

"It's really a shame you have to work even today," Hope says airily when they all sit down.

Stiff is a very understated description of how the atmosphere is.

Sirius smiles politely at her. "Yes, I'm very sorry, I just couldn't get away," he says apologetically, crossing his fingers in his mind. Noah hides a mocking snort in her glass – she's properly pissed that he had an excuse to be gone for most of the day.

"That happens when you conform to their capitalist agenda," Lyall remarks disdainfully.

Sirius doesn't know who 'they' are. Lyall himself probably doesn't know who 'they' are. But this is the first in a string of many comments about his, apparently, despicable ethics when it comes to employers, or career, or bank balance.

"I hope you still had fun without me?" Sirius asks lightly, choosing to ignore it for now.

"Ah, I'm happiest when I have my children around me," Hope says kindly and promptly adds, "I just wish my children would think the same way."

She looks over at Noah briefly and then smiles sweetly at Sirius. He smiles back, not entirely feeling his face while doing it. Sirius always wished to have a normal family, to feel loved and supported, and if he didn't experience the Lupins up-close and personal, he would have thought this is exactly the thing everyone strives for – a dad and mom, still happily married, a son, a daughter, all still talking to each other. But now he knows that even the most normal families have their own internal dramas, and holidays somehow to expand it tenfold. This was the magic of Christmas, surely.

"I'll go see whether Remus needs my help," Sirius says finally, tossing all pretence of politeness overboard in favour of escaping the tension.

Sirius walks over to the kitchen and, hurray!, finds Remus there, stirring something on the stove, his back turned to the entrance.

"Ah, I thought I heard you come back," he says and there is audible relief in his voice.

Remus turns around just in time for Sirius to walk into his ready arms and sigh. Like always, he is able to ground Sirius almost instantly, no matter how small or big the issue is. Even if there is no clear problem, as this family gathering is not really anything horrible, the feeling of his strong arms around Sirius is something similar to a cat carrying her litter by the skin on their nape.

As if on cue, Sirius feels the brush of something fluffy over his shins and grins, looking down at their feet. Basil has aged gracefully, and while he's gotten even lazier and maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit chunkier, he's still the same fiercely friendly cat Sirius met in what feels like another life.

"How nostalgic," Sirius muses. "Just us three, in the kitchen, doing our shenanigans."

Basil meows and Sirius could swear that if he had the gift of speech, he would tell them how little he thinks of any 'shenanigans' they might get up to. They both chuckle and Sirius feels his shoulders ease.

"Where's Padfoot?" he asks, glancing around Remus' shoulder and into the backyard where it was already drenched in darkness, the leafless twigs of the apple trees swaying menacingly in the cold wind.

"Probably hiding upstairs," Remus says, somewhat amused.

"Look at us, all hiding," Sirius says and grins, squeezing Remus' waist a little. "A family of cowards."

"Speak for yourself," Remus grumbles, but his lips are twitching with a badly concealed smile.

With a small laugh, Sirius tilts his chin up and kisses him.

It's careful and chaste, mindful of someone walking in on them, but it doesn't matter. Sirius loves kissing Remus in any kind of way. His lips are soft and gentle, and he smells faintly like cigarettes.

Remus has quit smoking ages ago, quite abruptly and very secretively. He played it off as nothing special back then but told Sirius after a while that he wasn't all that confident in his ability to stay away from it and didn't want to create any expectations he might not live up to. Needless to say, he has managed to quit permanently (Remus was nothing if not stubborn), and the only times he did revert back to smoking was on the rare occasions when he got absolutely pissed or when he was under a lot of stress. And because he was standing upright, the latter must be the case. It really must have been bad…

Sirius feels incredibly guilty for leaving Remus alone with his parents, only thinking about himself and his own comfort, and completely disregarding that for Remus this was difficult as well.

Remus was a grown-ass, married man, a homeowner, an academic with a PhD and a professorship at a respectable university. But when his parents were around, he seemed to revert back to some form of not-quite-a-child-not-yet-an-adult state. He didn't like to talk about it, but of course, Sirius knew that it wasn't all fun and games when it came to his parents.

He was hesitant to let them meet Sirius for the longest time, so much so that it made Sirius incredibly self-conscious, and he even started to doubt the seriousness of their relationship. He was still not over the whole Fabian situation, and, especially looking back now, definitely not mentally recovered from the impact it had on him, in addition to his fucked-up childhood.

Back then, the only logical explanation why Remus wouldn't want him to meet his parents was that Remus wasn't sure about him after all and didn't want to waste his parents' time on someone who might very well not be in his life next year. It took him all his courage (and maybe a strong pep-talk from James) to confront Remus about it and talk it through instead of anxiously tip-toeing around the topic.

Turns out, Sirius couldn't have been farther from the truth. When he blurted out all his insecurities, Remus just looked at him in bewilderment and then, in an uncharacteristic display of emotion, threw his hands up in the air and exclaimed, "For fuck's sake, you moron, I'm afraid you'll hate them and then you'll hate me!"

That was a thing Sirius struggled to learn – that he wasn't the only one dealing with self-doubt and ludicrous fears. That he wasn't the only person struggling. For someone so self-conscious, he could be incredibly self-centred.

He thought he was getting better at it, but, apparently, he still had a long way to go.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here," Sirius whispers, sincerely this time. "How bad is it?"

Remus huffs humourlessly. "It's alright…" He sighs and shrugs. "I mean, it's not really, but I'm fine. I worry about Noah a lot more, to be honest."

Oh. Sirius glances over to the kitchen door and winces. Yeah, that made sense…

It wasn't a coincidence that Noah was here alone today. It was in the middle of a horrible heatwave when she came all the way over, in a cab no less, her make-up smudged and hair a wild mess, and told them she was pregnant. As it happens, the father was just a random hook-up – she was drunk, she was lonely, she couldn't remember if they used protection.

After weeks of agonizing over it, she decided to keep the baby. Remus and Sirius played a big part in that decision, as she told them a couple of months after. They tried their best to show her support, in any way she might need it and whatever route she might decide to go. Remus showed an incredible amount of sensitivity while handling the whole situation, which was not exactly unusual, but definitely not a given for him.

Obviously, they would help her out. Remus would do anything for his sister, Sirius was incredibly excited to have another child to spoil rotten, and they had enough stability to offer Noah the aid a single mother desperately needed.

Unfortunately, their parents weren't as excited about the whole thing as she might have wished. Ensue continuous comments about her carelessness, diminishing prospects in professional and personal life, the difficulty of raising a child, peppered with horrible stories from friends-of-friends concerning pregnancies and single-parenting. It was painful to watch from the outside, and Sirius couldn't even begin to fathom how it might feel for Noah herself.

"We better get back in there," Sirius murmurs. "They will eat her alive."

Remus stifles a laugh. "Don't underestimate Noah," he advises. "She has been giving them a run for their money all day."

Ah, of course, how could Sirius forget that, unlike Remus, Noah didn't have any qualms about standing up for herself when confronted with their parents. Still, she shouldn't even be in a position to continuously defend herself – not at all, and especially not in her condition.

"It's my turn now," Sirius says resolutely and disentangles himself from Remus' arms.

He almost makes it to the exit, Basil following his every step as if he too was waiting for Sirius to give him enough strength to face a family Christmas dinner when Remus catches his wrist.

"Hey." He tugs Sirius back and trails a hand over his jaw before leaning down to kiss him properly. "I love you."

Sirius smiles into the kiss, their lips slotting together in a way that makes him feel like he is truly home now. "I love you too," he says. "More than anything."

Remus grins at him mischievously. "Oh, yeah? Well, that's convenient. I'm sure you won't mind breaking the news about our adoption plans tonight, alright, love?"

Sirius gasps and clutches his heart in mock-betrayal. "You sneaky son of a–" He clears his throat, glancing into the hallway cautiously, and lowering into an angry whisper. "This is not how we agreed to do this!.. No! No, don't give me these puppy-dog eyes, they don't work… Remus– Baby, no, I'm not doing that! Are you mental? If I tell them, you will be another single parent in this family!.. Stop kissing me! Stop it, Remus, this is– I take everything back! I hate y– Mmphh–"

Six years together, four years of marriage, a house, a tree, a car, a dog, and soon, a child.