gaudia solis

“If anyone was thinking of buying tickets to the next Lions game, how about you don’t,” Finn said as he took the camera; someone off-screen was giggling. He scrubbed a hand down his face, then through his hair, and finally sighed. “Actually, no, that’s how I get paid. Do I really have to do this?”

“Yes,” several unseen voices chorused.

“The team has unanimously voted that I won the ‘Ego’ award this year, which, fuck you guys, I’m not that bad.” Protests tripped over each other until he waved them off with a mock glare. “In honor of my landmark win, I have been charged with the annual punishment. These are the top five times I have been atrociously humbled on the Lions hockey team, ranked in order of sheer agony.”

He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and sighed again. “Number five, going for a coast-to-coast goal in my rookie season—and making it past everyone—only to trip on my skate and knock myself out less than three feet from the goal.

“Number four, still having voice cracks at age 23.” He grimaced slightly as he looked to the camera. “Nothing like meeting the Arthur Weasley and sounding like a rottweiler’s favorite chew toy.

“Number three…” Finn trailed off and leaned his head back against his stall as more snickering broke out behind the camera. “You guys are the worst. We shouldn’t even have this award.”

“You seemed to think it was pretty funny when it was me,” Dumo remarked.

“Number three,” Finn continued, scrunching his nose up. “We’re getting into the painful stuff now. Playing the Tampa Bay Lightning and following my brother, Alex O’Hara, to the wrong bench not once, not twice, but four times throughout the game. This was unfortunately the end of my second full year in the NHL.”

“He hasn’t let you live that down,” Logan said gleefully.

“Shut the fuck up,” Finn half-laughed. “Number two, foolishly listening to my best friend’s French tutoring and—I don’t wanna say it.”

“Them’s the rules, Harzy,” James snorted, ignoring Finn’s pleading look.

Finn closed his eyes, a red blush creeping up his neck. “I foolishly listened to my best friend’s French tutoring and told the captain he—ugh—he had a nice ass instead of a good game.”

Cheers erupted throughout the locker room as the blush reached Finn’s face and he pressed the paper over his eyes. “Number one! Number one! Number one!” they chanted.

“I’m never doing anything for you ever again.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose as if it would help decrease the vivid redness of his face, then gave up and turned back to his notes. “Alright, number one. This happened about two weeks ago, if anyone was making a timeline. I came to the rink early to run some drills, and while I was in the shower I started singing along to the music I had put on—”

“He can’t sing, by the way,” Leo noted offscreen.

“Couldn’t carry a tune if he had a bucket,” Remus added.

Finn raised his eyebrows at them. “Is this your story? No? Then shut your fuckin’ mouth. I started singing along to my music because I thought the place was empty, but when I left the showers about three songs later, I came face-to-face with the entire 7 am men’s water aerobics class.”

Sirius placed a gentle kiss on his hair, combing through it, making Remus want to stay awake and fall asleep faster at the same time. He could almost see the smile in his dream when Sirius told him, “Com’on, mon loup, let’s get you into bed.”

Sirius didn’t see Remus even think about moving a muscle today, much less standing up and walking to their bedroom, so he took his hands from the soft strands and put one under his knees and one around his shoulders instead, gently lifting him off the couch, into his arms. Remus curled into him almost instantly. Sirius couldn’t really tell if his boyfriend was already asleep or not at this point, but did it really matter, when he was looking so adorably peaceful either way? Sirius had been a little worried about him, constantly running around, getting last minute gifts and adjustments and making everything as perfect as ever; even more so. The only breaks Sirius had actively seen Remus take were a few hours of sleep he got after the last phone calls and text conversations about all the preparations, before they headed out to practice again. He was very visibly exhausted every night, but he had managed to hide it from most of the team, leaving them wondering how Remus was able to do all that work in one day and still keep up with their superstitions perfectly. 

Sirius himself didn’t really know how Remus had managed it all. He was working so hard for them. Not only for the team, but for all their families and all the staff and coaches and everyone helping even the tiniest bit at the rink. 

He was just too good. Too good for his own good. Sirius thought, placing his now definitely asleep boyfriend onto their bed, taking off his shoes and jeans, so he wouldn’t have to change out of them during the night to be comfortable. His own bedtime routine took some time, but after about 20 minutes he was back in front of their bed, pj’s on, face cleaned, teeth brushed, lights turned off and two glasses of water set on the night stands for him and his boyfriend. He crawled under the blanket and carefully put an arm around Remus, drawing him in the tiniest bit, only to have his boyfriend turn around in this embrace, pressing his face into his chest. Letting himself drop onto his back, so that Remus was half on his chest, and actually able to breathe properly, he let his mind shut off and focused on the even breathing next to his neck. His did the same only a few minutes later.

•

Remus woke up to a delicious smell. He couldn't quite place it, but it smelled heavenly and since his stomach seemed to need to know the cause of this smell, he would have to trade it for the one of Sirius shampoo lingering on the pillow next to him. He was willing to sacrifice that smell, but he wasn’t ready to leave the warmth yet. Luckily, his brain was working again after the absolute puddle of exhaustion it had been yesterday, so he wrapped the blanket around himself and made his way in the direction of the smell.

He looked at the clock they had in the hallway, making his way downstairs, blanket dragging on the floor behind him. It was afternoon. He couldn't remember a time he’d been able to get that much rest in the last month, a couple of months, half a year, he didn't even know anymore. All he knew was that he actually felt rested for the first time in a long time.

He breathed in deeply, also inhaling more of that smell again, a smile on his face, he stepped into their kitchen.

Sirius had expected the arms that wound around his waist the second he heard steps coming down the stairs. What he hadn’t expected was the blanket that came with them, which left him giggling to himself before turning the stove off and turning around to let Remus cover him in the warmth of the blanket. He leaned down without looking and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Sirius drew back immediately though, leaving his boyfriends puppy dog eyes to themselves while he tried to comprehend what was in front of him.

Once he couldn’t ignore his lovers eyes any longer, they locked and he saw the adorable confusion etched in them. “What’s wrong?” Remus asked, voice still rough from sleep, hugging him a little tighter, a spark of worry in his eyes.

“Remus,” was apparently all Sirius' brain managed to come up with his gaze now fixed on Remus cheeks again. Okay, he probably needed to explain his thoughts more than that. But honestly, Remus had to know. He just had to. Sirius remembered all the busy weeks leading up to now then and the thought of it really not being deliberate made more and more sense. So he started again. “Remus, love, you have a stubble.”

Remus snorted, all the worry draining out of his eyes at once. As if to feel for himself he 

scratched his cheek on the material of Sirius’ Pyjama shirt. It caught onto it the tiniest bit, which left Sirius watching a sheeping expression form on his boyfriend's face. “Well, I was just really, really busy the last couple of days and weeks and months, I didn’t really think scheduling time for shaving should be my top priority. I know it’s scratchy. I’ll shave it off after breakfast, what did you-”, Remus had muttered into Sirius's chest before his head was lifted from it.

“Don’t you dare,” was all Sirius said at first. Then he continued, pressing kisses onto Remus cheeks, dragging his soft lips over the stubble that had formed. “I didn’t even know you could grow real facial hair.”

That earned him a grumble he could feel through his lips, which were currently working their way around Remus’ jaw.

“No, I’m-” he stopped, considering, then decided on “I feel betrayed! I could have had this for so long and you just shaved it clean without me knowing. That certainly doesn’t seem fair to me,” he whispered into Remus' neck, making his boyfriend squirm and laugh in their embrace.

“You’re such a dork,” Remus snorted and leaned up for a kiss. Sirius happily complied. When they broke apart Sirius lifted his hand to his boyfriends face, his finger caressing Remus cheek. It was a bit rough with all the tiny hairs growing and it did feel unusual, but it also felt new and great somehow. 

“C’mon, Pads, why don’t you shove your face a little further into his neck?” James teased, sinking into the armchair closest to the fire with a grin and a fresh cup of eggnog. “I’m sure there’s an inch or two you haven’t found yet.”

Sirius glared at him over the collar of Remus’ sweater, though the edges of his eyes crinkled as laughter washed over the room. “He’s just jealous,” Sirius said with a light kiss to the hinge of Remus’ jaw, earning himself an amused look. “Wishes it was him.”

“As if,” Lily snorted. She settled into James’ lap and slung her legs over the armrest, then gave one of his curls a tug that mirrored the skip of his heart at her familiar weight on his thighs. Her skin was warm from the fire when he slipped a hand under her thick sweater to rest at the small of her back; her red-painted lips curled into a smile. “You did good, Black, but I think we can agree Potter won the jackpot.”

Sirius raised his head to rest his chin on Remus’ shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Agree to disagree, Evans.”

“At least none of the rest of us have matching sweaters,” Kasey countered mildly with his head in Nat’s lap as she braided small strands on his hair. “You four are downright sickening sometimes.”

“Jealous,” Remus whispered, drawing a snicker from Sirius that was muffled by the thick knit.

Dumo had finally fixed his secondhand record player—a passion project, he had called it as long as James knew him—and light music floated throughout the house as the fire crackled merrily and cast the living room in a reddish glow. At least half the team was piled into the small space, but it was surprisingly quiet; they were all drowsy from the potluck dinner and the last practice before the holiday break.

James flexed his sore feet in his fuzzy socks and grimaced, then relaxed as Lily combed her fingers through his hair. She still smelled like butterscotch from the cookies they baked and brought as their contribution—he made a mental note to get the picture of her and Harry at the kitchen counter printed and framed as soon as possible.

Honestly, he thought as Sirius nudged Remus’ ear with his nose until he laughed under his breath and ducked his chin. It’s like you two are trying to live a Hallmark movie.

“Parents coming up this year, Loops?” Talker asked around a yawn.

Remus looked over in surprise, away from the light kisses his cheeseball of a husband was scattering over his cheek. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, they’ll be up ‘til New Years.”

“Jules?”

“Nah, they’re gonna pull a Home Alone and see how he does.”

Talker shrugged, unfazed by the sarcasm save for the half-smile pulling at his mouth. “I’d put my money on him. Tough kid, that one.”

“Yeah, real tough,” Remus snorted.

“Reg’s coming down, too?” James asked.

Sirius glanced up with a smile. “He’ll be here next Tuesday. His last exam is the 20th.”

“Poor kid,” Remus said as Talker made a noise of sympathy.

James craned his neck back toward the kitchen, never loosening his hold around Lily. “Hey, Knutty, your partner in crime is coming home to help you torture us for the holidays!”

There was no response. Olli sat up from his place splayed out in front of the fire with a groan and squinted into the kitchen, then rolled his eyes with a fond shake of his head before flopping back down. “Harzy’s tormenting him with a cookie cutter, and Tremz is eating the dough. How did a nice boy like him get tangled up with those two, again?”

“Someone should probably save him,” Lily remarked without making even a twitch to get up. James kissed the sliver of bare skin between her sleeve and shoulder and she winked, dropping one on his cheekbone in return. Even after nine years, the brush of her lips still made his stomach flip-flop.

“And you have the nerve to call us embarrassing,” Sirius said drily. James stuck his tongue out and Sirius pulled a face right back at him.

“You two cannot be in the same room together,” Lily half-laughed. “Re, I think we married five-year-olds on accident.”

Remus scrunched his nose up. “D’you think it’s too late to return them?”

“Yes,” James and Sirius chorused, causing a fresh wave of laughter to ripple through their friends.

“Tremzy, leave baby goalie alone,” Kuny said sleepily as he leaned back against Nado’s legs from his spot on the floor. “Want snowman cookies before nap.”

“He loves me!” Logan’s disembodied voice called back.

“No, I don’t!” Leo laughed. “Now stop eating everything, you’ll make yourself sick!”

“But it’s good!” Logan protested.

There was a light snap of a towel and James buried his laughter in Lily’s upper arm. “Out of my kitchen, all of y’all.”

Y’all, James mouthed to Talker, who hid his smile in his hand as his shoulders shook. Finn and Logan trooped out a moment later, looking thoroughly admonished—they snuggled up on the smaller couch, though James noticed the gap left between Logan’s feet and the arm rest. He wondered if they were doing it on purpose, or if it had simply become a habit over the past two years. The thought warmed him to his bones.

They sat in relative silence, enjoying the fire and each other’s company as snow fell heavy outside and quiet murmurs buzzed through the house. A storm had been brewing all day; he hoped the flurry wouldn’t get too bad before it was time to head back. Harry was out cold in Katie’s old nursery, but he never liked being away from home for too long. Then again, James didn’t think any of them would mind a few days to spend together. Dumo and Celeste always invited people to stay over after parties.

Leo padded out of the kitchen a moment later, wiping his floury hands on his thighs before sliding right into the free space and folding himself against Logan with a hum. “They’re so cute,” Lily said, barely above a whisper. He nodded, resting his head on her collarbone; her hand settled back into his hair a moment later and he ran his thumb in small circles over her hip. “I’m glad they found each other.”

“Ditto,” he mumbled.

The conversations lulled after that; the earlier drowsy haze slid fully into naptime territory and James felt the shift in the warm air. Dumo and Celeste were still putting the kids to bed, but it seemed the day had finally caught up to them all. Kuny’s light snoring picked up within five minutes, and Finn began to blink slower and slower until he nodded off with Logan curled up under his arm—Sirius yawned and tucked his face in the crook of Remus’ neck once more.

In the time it took for James to cast a cursory look around the room, Talker fell asleep as well. Kasey and Nat traded three kisses before he shifted onto his side and closed his eyes. A heavy, comfortable feeling blanketed James’ brain and he leaned his head into the bend of the armchair, close enough to nuzzle his cheek against Lily’s shoulder, but far enough that she could easily snuggle into him.

Families would start arriving soon, holiday chaos would reign until James wondered if this was the year he finally said Christmas was a scam and meant it, and practices would be back before they knew it. But there would be days of snowball fights and big family dinners and gathering everyone for pickup games, of gifts and troublemaking and a million mistletoe kisses from the most beautiful woman in the world.

He would watch the Cubs wend and weave in their own special way; he would see his best friend spend his very first holiday season as the second-happiest married man in the world. He would certainly get to snap a photo of Talker’s face when Noelle showed up three days early to surprise him, and drive Kasey and Nat to the airport to pick up Alex as they nearly vibrated out of his car in excitement.

Attends!" he yelled, eyes widening at the screen that had lit up. "I think -" The backlight faded before he could comprehend what had been there. He jogged the short distance to the door they had just managed to get open, craning his head around the frame. Finn had crammed himself into a small rowing boat that was sank into the wooden floor, his knees tucked up against his chest. "Harzy, pedal again?"

"Yes! Pedalling the boat makes the screen light up. It looks like an, putain -" Logan growled, "- Sirius, comment dis-tu énigme en anglais?"

"Don't ask me, I don't speak English," Sirius said, his eyes knitted into a focused frown as he attempted to move a key through a Perspex covered maze using a magnet. The problem was the key was hidden under a layer of sand which made tracking its movement difficult.

"Enigma works; a puzzle or riddle is probably closer to what you mean though," Leo answered, squeezing Logan's hip discretely as he passed by.

"A puzzle, a riddle, whatever, somebody just needs to pedal the boat so we can solve it."

"Loops!" The chorus rang through the room unanimously.

"Why do I have to -"

"Mon loup, now is not the time for modesty." Sirius cursed as he lost the key again.

Remus rolled his eyes, but the smug smile set on his lips told a different story. Once he had began pedalling, they moved through the puzzle pretty quickly, managing to open the treasure chest and get a key.

"Sirius, are you still doing that maze?" Remus laughed as he re-entered their half of the room. "Maybe somebody else -"

The sound that left Sirius' mouth could only be described as a growl.

"Alright, be stubborn, Black," Remus kissed the back of his neck.

"I found something!" Logan turned to see Finn his head buried in one of the distressed cargo crates scattered around the room. "It's a message in a bottle," he stood, hands clutching the item. He shoved it in Leo's direction. "Here, get this open. I'm going to see if there's more things to find."

The tinny sound of metal hitting the floor, grabbed Logan's attention, looking just in time to see Sirius' discreet fist pump before he bent to pick up the key.

"You did it then?" Logan teased, "took you long enough, Cap"

"Shut up," Sirius huffed, smiling softly. "Don't think I won't have you skate laps until you puke."

"Loops, your fiancé is bullying me. Make him stop."

"I'm not getting involved," Remus chuckled, not lifting his eyes from the puzzle he and Leo were trying to solve.

"Finn, where did you get a pen and paper from?" Leo's question stopped the inevitable squabble about to break out, the four of them turning their attention to Finn. He was crouched over a typewriter, his eyes flicking between the metal buttons, a yellowing shred of paper and a newer lined piece.

"I brought it with me," Finn shifted his glasses up the bridge of his nose, cocking his head a little. Shit, he was hot.

The four of them looked between themselves. "Is that allowed?" Logan broke the silence.

"Nobody's shouted at me yet?" Finn shrugged again, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the camera.

They looked at each other again. "He's got a point," Remus muttered, going back to the bottle.

"What the fuck was that?" Logan jumped, spinning around. The door of the previous room was shut. "Oh no, no, no, no." He rushed over, pushing against the thick wood. His hands searched, looking for some way to open it.

"I think it's locked, Lo." Thank you Leo for that incredibly helpful input.

"Why is nobody else panicking?" Logan rubbed at his temples. "What if we needed something in there?"

"Tremblay," Sirius' hands found his shoulders. "Get it together. Even if there was something in there then there's nothing nothing we can do about it now. We've just got to keep our heads and push forward."

"Aww, look at Cap go," Finn cooed. "Loops, does he give you pep talks in bed too?"

Remus' eyes tracked to the camera, casually moving another mechanism of the puzzle. "I wonder if they've ever had a murder in this room"

"Can we murder people later, please?" Leo's next words were muttered so Logan couldn't hear them, but Remus gave a loud snort. "We've only got 15 minutes left on the clock," he continued.

The next 13 minutes went by with multiple successes: the bottle was opened revealing a note with a series of numbers they had no idea what to do with; Logan and Sirius managed to find a third key on a small hook hidden behind some giant palm leaves, and Finn's tapped his deciphered code into the typewriter unlocking a battered looking wardrobe that contained a treasure chest. There in, lay the problem.

The games master had told them at the beginning they needed to find the chest because it contained a 'flare' which would be there only hope of getting off the island they had washed up on. Except, the chest had four padlocks, one of which was numerical and the other three opened with keys.

"I guess we just try them?" Leo mused.

"We don't have enough time, surely there's a logic to it"

"Stop wasting time chatting and starting trying codes."

Finn's fingers worked quickly at the combination lock, groaning each time he didn't hear the click he was after.

"The keys the wrong way round, Logan," Leo said.

Logan hissed. "Sssh! I can't concentrate with you all shouting at me."

"I wasn't shouting. I was trying -"

A speaker crackled, an ominous voice filling the room. "Would you like a clue?"

"No!" It was the only thing they had all agreed on in what seemed like a long time.

Seconds later, there was a joyous click and the padlocks popped open.

"Congratulations, you managed to escape the island with 4 seconds left." The same brunette man who had briefed them earlier was back. He might have mentioned earlier that his name was Kyle. What Logan knew for sure was his smile was too wide and it was setting him on edge. "Would you like a photo?"

"Yes," Finn nodded eagerly. "The other boys will never believe us other wise."

The games master nodded, scrawling their time messily on a chalkboard proclaiming they had successfully escaped. A light flooded the room and maybe-Kyle swung a camera up from his hip.

Several photographs later, he asked for an email address to send them to, any pretense that he was even vaguely happy to be there lost now.

"Aww, it's cute," Leo said, thrusting his phone in Logan's direction. "Look at Finn," he laughed, pointing at their boyfriend, smile wide, and his fingers thrown up in a v.

"Merde, we're so lucky. Do we have to go to dinner with Cap and Loops?" Logan whispered.

"Oi! We can hear you. And no ditching, you owe me a pizza," Remus shot him a playful glare.

"Sid's?"

“Pas de problem,” Sirius corrected for the third time. He had been unable to keep his grin down for about five minutes and another blurt of giddy lava flowed through his heart when Remus smiled back at him, sideways and unsure. In less than twelve hours, Remus would be gone for two weeks for some sort of certification, and Sirius planned to enjoy every second of the time they still had. “Not ‘pass’. Pas.”

“Pah de problem?” Remus tried again, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

Sirius hid his laughter in the rim of his glass. “Your accent makes it so flat, mon dieu.”

“Hey!” Remus said, playfully indignant as his foot nudged Sirius’ shin under the table. Sirius fired back with one of his own and tried not to get too distracted by the blush on his fair cheeks. There was an art to Remus Lupin’s face—an art that a bit of alcohol only enhanced by pouring color into it. “Alright, alright, jeez. Pas de problem. Better?”

It took a second for Sirius to remember how to breathe; he felt his heart kickstart hard and knew his smile was downright dopey. “Ouais. Très bien, Loops.”

The proud smile he received in response was absolutely dizzying. Sirius coughed into his hand and grabbed their glasses, mumbling something about a refill as he slipped around Kuny’s broad frame and tried to quell the pounding of his heart. It had grown worse ever since Remus started helping him with his ankle; what he used to admire from afar had suddenly become up close and personal three times a week, and he found himself getting distracted almost every time Remus appeared on the bench during practice.

Every touch of his warm, callused hands on his still-sore ankle made Sirius’ heart skip a beat—every smile he received when he showed progress tucked itself next to his lungs. He had even printed out the sneaky picture he took of Remus and Moody and hidden it behind the others, where he could see it from the perfect place on his pillow.

It was a nightmare.

“Seltzer and vodka soda, s’il vous plait,” he said absently as he set their glasses down on the bartop and scanned the crowd. People-watching always calmed him down; it was hard to focus on just one when there were so many new faces. It wasn’t like he could have Remus in that lifetime or the next, so what was the harm in letting his eyes wander a bit?

“Scuse me?”

Sirius jumped slightly and turned, meeting the shy gaze of a young woman whose friends were huddled in a group behind her. Here we go, he thought, steeling his courage. Time for the nightly performance of heterosexuality. “Can I help you?”

She tilted her head toward their table. “You’re with those guys over there, right?”

“Ouais.”

“Do you think—” She faltered, biting her lip as a blush rose to her cheeks and she held out a crumpled napkin. “Do you think you could give your friend my number?”

Sirius paused, taken aback. Most nights he had to gently decline any offers—nobody had ever asked him to be a messenger before. “Uh, which one?”

“The cute one in the sweater.” She gestured and he squinted to follow her line of sight. “With the brown eyes and the jawline?”

They’re not brown, they’re hazel-gold, was his first thought.

His second was fuck.

“He’s—” Mine. “Taken. In a really serious relationship.”

The young woman’s face fell and an embarrassed flush rose to her cheeks. “Shit, really?”

“Mhmm,” Sirius lied. “Almost engaged, actually.” I wish.

“Oh. Okay, then.” She crumpled the napkin up in her hand again and offered a weak smile that he did his best to return with false sympathy. “Thanks for letting me know before I made an idiot of myself, or something.”

“No problem,” he said, and meant it with every bone in his body. Some woman in a bar was not about to swoop in and rob him of the last precious moments he could get of Loops time before half a month of his absence. Not if he had anything to say about it.

“Merci,” Remus said with a teasing grin as Sirius set his new drink down. His accent made the word so bouncy, so light, so fun. “Did I say that one right, Captain Quebeçois?”

“Parfait,” Sirius responded. Talker squeezed in next to him half a second later, and he resigned himself to listening to them chat until it was finally time to say goodbye.

------------------

It was 2:17 am, and Sirius was bored out of his mind. Their last game played out in colorful blurs on the screen in front of him; he absently took notes now and then, but it had been close to a perfect game for them. Everything they needed to work on had already been noted down ages ago.

“Black takes it down the middle, weaving past the defense like he was born to do it—”

Maybe Sirius had made a mistake in lying to the woman at the bar earlier. She looked like a nice enough person, sweet, like Remus. Maybe he should have let her pass her number over and let them both have a good time and congratulate Remus on pulling and then eventually show up to their wedding in support and—

“—Potter is wheeling tonight! Helluva a goal by our Boston boy—”

--and he was catastrophizing again. Heather always told him to take things slow, follow a natural progression. Sirius backtracked. Maybe he should have let her lead Remus to the dance floor and spend the next twenty minutes wishing it was him who could press up close and run his fingers through the fluffy curls that were just starting to flop into his eyes. The jealousy would be as bitter as licorice, but he would find a way to handle it.

“—blay stops a killer move by number 16 on the Bruins with an outstanding check, and I think the Lions might be roaring louder than the fans, Frank!”

The tape changed from the ice angle to the bench. Sirius’ thumb clicked ‘pause’ before his thoughts stopped whirling, and then everything came to a standstill. He could hear his own breathing in the dark of Dumo’s basement, along with the creaking floorboards overhead, though he saw nothing but the bright rectangle ahead and the face shining among his friends’ helmets.

Remus’ hands were in the air, slender fingers splayed in celebration—he beamed at the ice in a mix of surprise and fierce pride. His strong forearms were only a bit visible as the cuffs of his tracksuit slid down, and Sirius had to swallow back the urge to kiss his pulse points. He set the remote aside and pulled his knees up under his chin, memorizing every pixel of the pure joy in Remus’ expression.

That was one of the things Sirius liked most about him, after all. Remus just loved hockey. He loved it as much as or more than any player on the team; he loved it for every little intricacy and could analyze a play like a captain. He was fully involved in every game, his sharp eyes flicking back and forth while he juggled all of their batshit superstitions. It was the sexiest thing Sirius had ever seen.

Did that confirm his status as a true-blue hockey nerd? Yes. Did it make him a lovesick idiot? Without a doubt. Was it deeply, tragically unfortunate that there was a negative percent chance Remus was a) into men and b) into the neurotic mess of a captain? That knowledge had effectively nipped every single one of Sirius’ horny thoughts in the bud. Well, most of them.

He sighed through his nose and resettled his chin on his knees, sparing an absent glance at the clock to see how much time was left. They had evening practice. He could stare for a few more minutes, then finish the tape and hope it made him drowsy enough to sleep.

“Sirius?”

“Jesus!” he spluttered, jabbing the ‘play’ button so hard it clicked angrily. His heart hammered in his chest as he turned to see Dumo standing in the doorway, squinting sleepily at him. “Quoi?”

“Why are you awake?” he asked, voice scratchy.

“I, uh, couldn’t sleep.” Calm down, calm down, no heart attacks at 24. “Thought I’d watch tape until I got tired. Did I wake you?”

Dumo shrugged one shoulder as the fans cheered on the screen. “Was getting water and heard noises.”

“Sorry, I’ll turn it down.”

“You should sleep.”

“I will.”

He nodded, then paused in the doorway. A shaky, nauseated feeling began to grow in Sirius’ gut. “Why did you stop the tape on the bench?”

Because I’m gay. Dumo, I’m gay. I’m gay and I should tell you and also I am specifically gay for the PT who I lied about to a stranger so he wouldn’t get married. “I was making a note about Tremzy’s check to give him a shoutout tomorrow.”

Dumo hummed and ruffled his hair before padding back up the stairs. “Sleep, mon fils. Tape will be there in the morning.”

---------------------

Sirius liked Moody. He was intimidating, sure, but he knew his stuff and gave gruffly kind encouragement that would have sounded insulting to anyone who hadn’t grown used to it over the past six years.

But two weeks was a long, long time for Sirius’ heartsickness. So when he walked into the PT office for his Thursday session fully expecting the familiar perma-scowl, he was more than a little shocked to be met with a friendly smile instead.

“Hey, Pads,” Remus said as he finished up the knot on a set of exercise bands and wiped his palms on his pants. “How’s it going?”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Sirius blurted, then immediately backtracked as Remus blinked in obvious surprise. “I mean—no, I mean, aren’t you getting your certificate?”

The easy calm returned to his expression and he shook his head. “Nah, I finished up a little early because I skipped the intro speakers. Why go to stuff you already know, right?”

“Missed you,” he said before he could overthink it.

“Missed you, too, Cap. C’mere.”

Sirius stepped toward the table, saw Remus’ arms spread and watched him lean forward, and acted on complete lizard-brained instinct to wrap his arms around him and pull Remus into a hug.

Okay, Sirius thought. Well. Bad decision, but too late to back out now. Too early to let go without being weird. “I—tape, um—” Remus broke off, then tentatively returned the embrace as the screaming in Sirius’ head rose to a fever pitch. It had easily been ten seconds. Sirius was frozen in place. The palm resting gently over his shoulder blade patted it, then rubbed a small circle over to his shoulder. “Sirius, you okay?”

Real life. Alright. Make this un-weird, Black. He pulled back and held Remus by the shoulders. “Moody was a fucking nightmare while you were gone. Never leave me with him again.”

Remus stared at him for a moment, then let out a snort that quickly devolved into both of them hooting with laughter in the middle of the PT room. “I think we can call that an acquired taste,” he snickered as Sirius laid out on the table and gave himself a mental high-five. “Let’s see if I can un-fuck his work, eh?”

“Sirius!” Andromeda called over her shoulder as she scrolled through the literal thousands of comments for her favorites, popping her gum at her cousin when he poked his head around the corner.

Sirius pulled a face right back at her. “What?”

“You’re stealing my spotlight again.”

“You don’t like the spotlight.”

Andromeda raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, which of us was the first to be deemed a family disappointment based on their choice in partner?”

Sirius rolled his eyes with a huff and padded over to the couch, leaning his elbows behind her head to see the phone screen. “What did I do this time?”

They had filmed the video as a bit of a joke, not intending for anyone to see it—Andromeda only had twenty followers on TikTok at the time, and she was pretty sure half of them were bots. When your racist/ sexist/ homophobic family members start getting a little too comfortable at Thanksgiving dinner, read curly script across the top of the screen as Eminem’s Without Me played in the background.

Andromeda stepped into frame a moment later, walking past the camera in slow motion with a smirk and a casual flip of her hair. The black dress was one of her favorites, knee-length with a slightly low-cut bodice; her mother used to say it looked ‘slutty’ and ‘debasing’, which obviously meant she wore it on every possible occasion. The cousin that married ‘below her class’ was written in the same cursive lettering at her side.

Sirius followed in her footsteps, a devious smile on his face as he adjusted his rainbow tie and slid his wedding ring on. The gay cousin signed to the family’s rival team who they can’t get rid of because the disownment papers are still processing sat happily in a text box by his head as he passed the camera as well.

And then came Regulus, wearing a cocky grin that Andromeda had only seen blossom over the past year. He shook out his suit cuffs and straightened the purple-gray flag pin on his lapel, then stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled past as the cousin that dropped out of the NHL to go to college and made sure the bloodline ended with him stood stark white against the bushes in front of Sirius’ house.

None of them had actually gone to the annual holiday dinner hosted at Sirius’ parents house, of course, but it was the thought that counted. They had made the video for a laugh before heading off to Dumo’s; when Andromeda returned to her phone eight hours later, the video had 200,000 views and just over 40,000 likes.

She craned her neck back to look at Sirius as he laughed at the replay. “Read these fucking comments, you fame thief.”

Lionsfan89: HELLO??? IS THAT SIRIUS BLACK???

mandomallow: First of all ma’am please stomp on me second of all are you aware you have TWO famous hockey players in your driveway

LupinLover3: THAT’S SIRIUS FUCKING BLACK WTFFFF WHO ARE YOU LADY

tromblerone: Are we just ignoring the fact that Sirius and Regulus Black are making tiktoks with random ppl now :sobbing emoji:

nhl4days: Oh my god Regulus looks so happy stop I’m gonna cry

merqueen15: I litcherally have no words imagine being related to THEE Sirius Black couldn’t be me

21macattack: There are too many hot people in this video pls have mercy

bibibiboba: If being sexy is a gene this family has all of it and honestly I can’t even complain

lemonsqueezy8437: LMAOO CAN YOU IMAGINE ROLLING UP TO FAMILY THANKSGIVING AND SIRIUS AND REGULUS BLACK ARE SITTING AT THE TABLE WITH YOU

lillyofthevallley: How many people did that family kick out oh my god???? Also drop the skincare routine queen you’re GLOWING

Dozens more comments focused specifically on Andromeda—the vain little part of her heart appreciated the ones that asked for her curl routine—but she couldn’t quite get over the fact that all it took to bump her follower count to over twenty thousand people (and counting) was her geeky baby cousins.

“Hey.” She poked Sirius’ arm as he reached over her head to scroll through the comments, giggling to himself. “Hey. I’m the hot one, remember?”

“Tell that to your followers, Andy. Reg! Get in here!”

“What?” a distant voice called.

“Andy’s TikTok famous!”

There was barely half a second pause before footsteps came pounding up the stairs with all the grace one would expect from a 20-year-old college student. “How the hell did you get TikTok famous?” he asked, perching on the back of the couch like some rumpled bird.

She cocked a brow. “Remember that video from Thanksgiving?”

“Ouais.”

“You and your stupid brother are stealing my fans.”

Sirius flicked her forehead lightly and she batted him away. “Hey, we gave you those fans.”

“I’m going to post all of your embarrassing baby pictures in my next video,” she threatened around a smile with a playful kick to his pajama-clad thigh as he skirted around her to go back to the kitchen. “All of them! Oldest cousin privilege!”

Hope watched silently in the doorway to the living room; the house was quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace and the rush of running water as Lyall scrubbed their dinner dishes. Jules made a noise in his sleep and Remus curled tighter around him, unconsciously smoothing a hand over his head. He was almost back to a normal, healthy color.

Tears welled in her eyes and she covered her mouth, taking a few deep breaths before she moved back to the kitchen. Watching the three of them nap, with Jules safely cocooned and Sirius squished against the back of the couch in a protective curve, would only make her think of how lucky they were. Lucky that Remus was a quick thinker, lucky that Sirius was strong enough to carry him all the way, lucky that Jules knew the path home by heart.

Lucky that all her sons came home safe.

The sink shut off as she pressed a kiss to the back of Lyall’s shoulder—he dried his hands and made room for her under his arm, humming softly. “They’re asleep,” she said on an exhale.

He tucked a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. “You okay?”

Hope went to answer, then faltered. She had grown up in Wisconsin; her childhood had been full of warnings about the ice that she bestowed on her own kids their whole lives. It wasn’t like Remus and Jules were doing anything stupid or out of the ordinary, either. It was simply a touch of bad luck that made her worst nightmare creep too close for comfort. “I don’t know,” she said honestly, glancing up. The same troubled feeling in her gut was reflected back in Lyall’s deep brown eyes.

He let out a breath through his nose and kissed the peak of her forehead, letting it linger. “They made it back alright.”

“I know.”

“I’m talking to myself.”

That drew a light laugh from them both, but it was weak even to her own ears. “God, he was so pale,” she whispered after a moment. Lyall’s chest hitched under her cheek.

“I’m glad Sirius was there. Poor kid looked scared out of his mind, though.”

There was a tight edge to his voce; Hope rubbed the small of his back in comfort and felt light pressure on the top of her head. She didn’t think the image of Sirius’ palpable panic as he held her nearly-unconscious and soaking wet son in his arms would be leaving her anytime soon. Julian had been a mess of tears and trembled in every cell when he fell into her—the choice to let Lyall have the first move at helping them had gutted her, but she couldn’t very well leave her baby to crumble all by himself.

Hope cleared her throat, blinking back the horrible what ifs. “He probably won’t even catch a cold. Sirius said it was only thirty seconds or so, right?”

Lyall made a noise of agreement and kissed her once more before returning to the dishes. Thirty seconds too long hung unspoken between them. Jules had babbled out some form of the tale through his sobbing while Remus warmed up and Lyall coached Sirius through some deep breaths; from what Hope could tell, Remus hadn’t even had the chance to catch himself on the more stable ice, but had been dunked head-first.

A chill raced down her spine. She padded back out to the living room, breathed in the faint smell of woodsmoke to calm the latent energy pulsing through her fingertips, and curled up in the armchair across from the couch.

Her mother’s blanket was warm as she pulled it over her shoulders like she was suddenly ten years old again and waking from a nightmare—the shaky feeling had returned. Hope had never really outgrown her wariness of winter ice despite the fact that her sons took to it like fish to water. Ice was a cold, biting, unforgiving force, playful and fun until it brutally wasn’t. She had never imagined Remus or Jules in their ease and confidence would ever fall victim.

Sirius was barely visible over Remus’ shoulder, one arm thrown over both her boys with his fingertips brushing Jules’ back. His ink-black hair covered most of his face, so dark in contrast to the bronze of the other two. He had been shivering and blue-lipped as well when they flooded inside like a herd of elephants—Hope still wasn’t sure he had fully registered the walk back to the house.

Wind whipped the windows and she sighed, then got to her feet and unwound the blanket. She was careful to tuck one end under Jules’ side without tipping him off his precarious position and slipped the other between Sirius’ back and the cushions. He shifted, but did not open his eyes, keeping his nose pressed to the back of Remus’ neck.

She bent to kiss Remus’ temple—warm and dry at last, she noted with no small sense of relief—then headed back out to turn Sirius’ sweater over on the radiator.

--------------

Sirius watched the heavy snow gathering outside as he stroked his thumb down Remus’ upper arm, shifting impossibly closer until their bare skin pressed together and Remus leaned into his warmth. “I love you,” he murmured once again in the darkness.

“I love you, too.” Remus reached back and combed through one of his curls—Sirius closed his eyes, hooking his chin over strong muscle. After a long minute, he felt a sigh beneath his palm.

“Can’t stop thinking about it?” he guessed.

“Nope.” The hand in his hair disappeared and Remus took his wrist instead, pulling it down to splay over his chest. “I’m so glad you were there, Sirius. So glad.”

You have no idea, he thought as he kissed the top notch of Remus’ spine. His childhood bed was almost too small to fit them both, but Sirius was the last person to say no to cuddles. The flannel sheets were soft as he bent his knees slightly. Words pushed and pressed at his lips; he worked them around for a moment before letting out a slow breath. “I was so fucking scared, Re.”

A shuddering exhale was loud in the blanketlike hush of their bedroom. “Me, too.”

He could feel Remus’ heart beating steadily under his palm as he toyed with Sirius’ fingertips and sank into the feeling, letting the smell of his soap and sheets ease the lingering nausea from his near-panic attack earlier in the day. Bless Lyall Lupin and his calm in the face of stress. Sirius had tried so hard to keep it together, but the second Remus and Jules were safe, he had felt himself coming apart at the seams; Lyall had kept his shoulder and the back of his head in a gentle hold and kept on talking until the black spots dissipated from his vision.

A sniff broke his train of thought and he glanced up in time to see Remus’ forearm come up, silhouetted in moonlight as it swiped over his cheek. “Re?”

“I really thought he was gonna fall. I thought—I thought I wouldn’t be able to get him in time. I could feel it breaking under me and all I could think about was making sure he was safe.”

“Hey, hey,” Sirius soothed, sitting up on his elbow to kiss the peak of Remus’ shoulder blade. He was quaking with the effort of keeping his tears in and Sirius carefully guided him onto his other side, wrapping both arms around him. “We’re alright, mon loup. Jules didn’t even have a scratch.”

But he couldn’t deny the way Remus’ words resonated in his stomach. That same fear had turned his mouth bitter as he watched the ice begin to crack under Remus’ feet, unable to do anything in case he made it worse. Sitting on the sidelines and being useless had never been Sirius’ forté—he was even worse at it when the love of his life and baby brother-in-law were in immediate danger. “It was so cold it burned, and I didn’t even care,” Remus mumbled into his chest.

“I know.” I cared. He nuzzled into the fluff of Remus’ messy curls, basking in his warmth. “You passed out.”

“When?”

“On the way back.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat and leaned his face into the pillow. Getting tears and/ or snot on his fiancé wasn’t part of the snuggling process. “We were talking, and you just kind of went for a few seconds. It was fucking terrifying.”

“Oh, baby,” Remus whispered, sliding his thumb over the hinge of Sirius’ jaw. “I’m sorry—”

“You were so cold,” he said thickly. “And you wouldn’t stop shaking. I didn’t even know what to do. Jules was walking and I didn’t know how to tell him that you just—you just—”

He broke off with a sniffle and pressed their foreheads together, feeling the dense muscle of Remus’ back under his palms. He was warm, and conscious, and alive alive alive, still pink-cheeked but without the hazy confusion in his eyes. He cupped the side of Sirius’ face and nudged his nose in silent reassurance.

“I can’t lose you.” Sirius had thought the words many times before. It felt right to finally say them with the weight of three different blankets and the comfort of a home around them. “I just can’t, Re. As soon as Jules was safe, all I could think about was you.”

I

“What’s a four-letter word for ‘beautiful’?” Finn called from the living room, where he was no doubt hunched over his crossword. Leo didn’t bother turning away from the stove to check—he knew their Saturday routine by heart and didn’t want to risk any burning biscuits.

“Joli!” Logan answered from the bathroom, voice muffled by toothpaste. Silently, Leo took the orange juice and put it on the top shelf; a forgetful boyfriend would not appreciate the sudden wakeup call of mint and citrus together.

“…like Angelina?”

“Like French, dumbass,” Logan fired back affectionately.

Leo locked eyes with Finn, who was laughing under his breath. “Pretty sure it has to be in English, Lo.”

“Says who?”

“Will Shortz.”

There was a cranky hum and Leo stifled his grin—Finn winked from the armchair, sending butterflies through his stomach. “Four letters for ‘beautiful’?” Logan repeated.

“Ways, baby.”

“Ouais,” Leo and Logan corrected at the same time.

A familiar head of wild, sleep-mussed curls appeared from the doorway. “I’ve got one.”

Leo raised his brows as Logan’s eyes sparkled. “Really?”

“Finn.” A smug smile spread over his lips; he leaned against the wall, casual as could be in a sweatshirt that certainly didn’t belong to him. “Four letters for beautiful.”

A beat of quiet passed before Finn knocked his head against the back of their armchair with a loud groan, blushing vivid red, then tossed his puzzle aside to hurry across the room. Logan was laughing when he captured his lips in a kiss and dipped him back like some perfect scene of old-fashioned cinema. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Tremblay,” Finn said around his smile as he nudged their noses together. “Romantic little shit.”

“Devastatingly handsome, too,” Logan teased. “And smart, and funny, and multilingual…”

“Who’re you describing, again?” Leo asked with mock-sincerity, flipping the bacon. Logan tilted his head back to look at him upside-down as Finn glanced up with that same dopey smile that had entranced him from day one—he hardly had time to maneuver around the burner before they were on him, peppering his face in kisses.

“Both my boys are too smart for their own good,” Finn said between kisses. He planted one more big one on Leo’s temple, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind while Logan snuggled underneath one arm.

“I can’t cook like this. Your bacon will burn to a crisp.”

Logan breathed in deep through his nose. “Gives us plenty of time to help Harzy with his crossword, then, non?”

II

Flour scattered every inch of the kitchen. Normally, Sirius was a lot more careful with his ingredients, but Jules didn’t have the most delicate touch when it came to using the mixer for dry ingredients. It was a miracle none of them had accidentally been blinded when the first cloud went up.

“Can you grab the strawberries for me?” Sirius asked as he beat the egg yolks into a light froth with a whisk.

Jules scampered off with an enthusiastic “yeah!”, leaving him and Hope alone at the kitchen island. She looked up from her measurements with a teasing smile. “Good call.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Sirius laughed. He was warm all the way down to his bones, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from the oven behind him as he poured the yolks into the large mixing bowl and turned it to a low setting. “What do we need next?”

“Once I get the baking powder in, we’ll just need the strawberries and the batter,” she answered with only a cursory glance at the recipe. “Easy peasy.”

Sirius didn’t even think before he held the whisk out. “Oh, here.”

Hope took it, though she gave him a quizzical look. “Did you want me to put this in the sink?”

“What?” Sirius paused, taken aback. “No. You said you needed the batteur.”

She blinked at him. “Batter.”

“Batteur,” Sirius repeated, growing more confused by the moment. He was sure had had heard her correctly. “For the baking powder and the strawberries. If you’re worried about salmonella, I can rinse it off really—”

“Honey.” Hope broke off to laugh as she pressed the whisk back into his hand with a pat to his wrist. “Sirius, love, the batter. I need to add this and the strawberries to the cake batter once the yolks are in.”

Realization dawned slowly at first, then was rapidly overtaken by utter mortification. Sirius could feel the blood rush to his face. Batter, dumbass. The thing you’ve been making for an hour. “Oh. Right.”

“You are too cute,” she said with no small amount of amusement.

He covered his flushed face with his hands, paying no attention to the flour dusting every bit of his skin. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was an easy mistake.”

“Yeah, but it’s—” He waved vaguely at the mixer that was still happily humming along and made room for Jules, helping him set the large bowl of strawberries on the counter. “That’s not even the right word for whisk. I’m just going to do this now.”

Jules looked between them in obvious confusion. “What happened?”

“I failed at being bilingual,” Sirius informed him, dividing the strawberries evenly between their cutting boards. “Really disappointing my identity here.”