#old wolfstar

Turns out spending 12 years in Azkaban and sleeping in a cave does not do wonders for your hair...

Remus groaned as he pushed himself out of his armchair, bracing heavily on his cane as he stood. His hip protested the movement sharply.

“Where are we going?” he muttered.

“I’ve got you,” Sirius said, already there, hooking an arm through Remus’ and steadying him as they shuffled toward the coat rack.

Remus slipped his arms into his jacket while Sirius held his cane patiently.

“So where are we going?” Remus asked again as he took the cane back and leaned into Sirius’ shoulder. “You know surprises stopped being fun sometime around my fiftieth birthday.”

Sirius only grinned.

Remus rolled his eyes, though his fingers slipped easily into Sirius’ hand as they stepped outside the front door.

The house behind them sat warm and familiar in the late afternoon light. They’d lived there thirty years now. Every corner of it held a memory.

“Can’t an old man just rest on his birthday?” Remus grumbled.

“You’ll have plenty of time to rest, babe,” Sirius said, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“When I’m dead?” Remus said lightly.

Sirius stopped walking.

He gave Remus a very unimpressed look.

“Not funny.”

Remus smiled faintly.

“My heart couldn’t take that,” Sirius added more quietly, squeezing his hand.

Remus’ teasing softened at once.

“Well,” he murmured, “I’ll do my best to keep breathing then.”

“Please do.”

Sirius stepped closer and wrapped an arm around him before they Disapparated with a soft pop.

They landed gently in a grassy field.

Remus blinked.

The wind rustled through tall grass around them, carrying the smell of lake water and warm stone.

Slowly, Remus turned.

Across the water, unmistakable against the horizon, stood Hogwarts.

The castle rose above the Black Lake just as it always had—towers and spires glowing gold in the late afternoon sun.

Remus stared.

“What are we doing here, Padfoot?”

Sirius stepped dramatically to the side.

“Ta-da!”

Remus followed his gesture.

Spread across the grass was a familiar blanket—slightly faded, patched in one corner and fraying on the edge.

Remus knew it instantly.

“You nicked that from the linen closet.”

“I did not nick it,” Sirius said indignantly. “It has been in my careful possession since approximately 1976. Courtesy of one Mr. Moony.”

Next to the blanket sat a basket. Beside that, a bucket of ice holding a bottle of—

Remus leaned forward, squinting.

“…Blueberry wine?”

Sirius looked extremely pleased with himself.

Remus hobbled closer, lowering himself carefully with Sirius’ help onto a conjured cushion.

“This is…”

Sirius sat beside him.

“Everything from our first date,” he said simply. “On your birthday. Fifty years ago.”

Remus looked up at him slowly.

“You remembered all of this?”

“Of course I did,” Sirius scoffed. “I’m old, not senile.”

He uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses.

“I got those biscuits too,” he said, rummaging in the basket. “And the house elves made the finger sandwiches you liked.”

Remus peered inside.

“Are those—”

“Jammie Dodgers,” Sirius confirmed proudly.

Remus barked a laugh. “They taste like red glue.”

“That’s awfully specific, babe.”

Sirius handed him a glass.

Remus took a sip.

The sweetness hit him immediately.

He winced.

“Gods,” he said. “It’s just as awful as I remember.”

Sirius grinned. "Great, isn't it?"

Remus took another sip anyway.

Then he fell quiet.

He turned slightly to look at Sirius.

Really look at him.

The man beside him was no longer the reckless boy he’d fallen in love with by the lake all those years ago.

Lines creased the corners of Sirius’ eyes now, carved there by decades of laughter and stubborn joy. His hair had stayed the same except for that one stubborn gray stripe that ran down one side.

Fifty years.

Remus reached for his hand without thinking.

Sirius took it instantly, just like always.

He lifted Remus’ fingers and pressed soft kisses against them.

The same gesture he’d done when they were sixteen.

When they were thirty.

When they were fifty.

When Remus had woken from nightmares.

When Sirius had come home late.

Always the same gentle kisses.

“Happy birthday, Moony,” Sirius said softly.

Remus looked out across the lake again.

The castle stood exactly where it always had.

Time had moved forward. Friends had come and gone. The world had changed in ways their younger selves could never have imagined.

But Sirius’ hand was still warm in his.

Remus squeezed it.

“Best date I’ve had in fifty years,” he murmured.

Sirius snorted.

MY OLD MEN!! They do not let their creaky bones stop them from being insatiable :p

I think they start switching a bit more the older they get. Younger wolfstar heavily leans top Remus/bottom Sirius with occasional switching, but as they get older some positions hurt when they do them for too long or too often. Also they've been together so long and they are determined to try every position in every variation possible.

They also gravitate away from having penetrative sex often. They almost revert back to teenagers in that way, its more frottage and dry humping and oral.

Remus confides in Sirius about how he's struggling to get hard and Sirius is just like "do you really think that'll stop us? I can get creative, love"

They genuinely love and find sexy how eachothers bodies have changed. Every wrinkle, every flabby bit of skin, every grey hair is a reminder of all the years they've spent together.

Sirius gets anxious that the novelty of him will wear off when his looks 'fade' (they really don't, he's still hot as an old man) he's convinced remus will get bored now that he's has Sirius' best youthful years. Remus sets this record straight and makes sure its known that he still finds sirius very attractive.