Harry Potter, Flakes

Title: Flakes [Remus/Sirius]
Rating/Warnings: R
Summary: Sirius likes the snow.
AN: Written for the 24-Hour Ficathon. For musesfool.

Flakes

“Remus!” Sirius whispered, shaking the werewolf’s shoulder gently.

“Mmm?” Remus cracked open an eye. “Wha?”

“It’s snowing!” Sirius reported with glee, careful to keep his voice low.

“Really?” Remus’ sleepy face crinkled into a grin and he leaned up on an elbow to squint at the window behind Sirius. Sirius pushed the hanging further to the side to let him see, then tied it back so he wouldn’t have to stand and hold it open.

“Brought these for you,” Sirius said, handing Remus his glasses carefully before crawling onto the bed and over top of him. He slid underneath the warm blankets and curled up against Remus’ back so he wouldn’t block Remus’ view of the window.

Remus slid on his glasses and laid his head back down, putting a hand between the pillow and his face so his glasses wouldn’t be knocked askew. He snuggled into Sirius’ warmth against his back, watching the delicate flakes rush down against the eerie pink of the snowy night sky.

“How did you know?” Remus asked.

“You said,” Sirius replied, hiding his blush in the curve of Remus’ shoulder. “You said you liked to watch the snow, when we were in the library, next to the big windows. You said you were reading, but really you were watching the snow fall, for hours.”

“You watch me too much,” Remus tried to wriggle around in Sirius’ arms, but Sirius squeezed him too tight to roll over.

“Don’t,” he said, pressing a kiss against Remus’ neck. “You can see me anytime, watch the snow.”

“So pretty,” Remus sighed sleepily, and Sirius murmured an assent, running fingers down Remus’ chest lightly, repetitively. The fingers began to stray lower and lower and Remus hummed in his throat.

“Padfoot,” he gasped when Sirius finally slid his hand underneath the elastic of Remus’ pajama pants. Remus tried again to roll over, but Sirius clutched him tighter than before.

“I said watch the snow, dammit!” he whispered into Remus’ ear, laughing softly, and the warm breaths made Remus press backwards into him, even as the firm hand urged him to arch forward.

Sirius continued to stroke him at the same deliberate pace, despite Remus’ whispered pleas for more, until Remus reached behind his back and slipped his own hand into Sirius’ pajamas, forcing him to speed up at last.

Remus came with a soft, breathy gasp; through the haze of pleasure, he felt Sirius muffle his own groans wetly against the back of Remus’ neck before slumping bonelessly against him. Remus took advantage of the relaxed grip to roll over suddenly and press his lips to Sirius’.

“Thank you for my snow,” Remus whispered, pressing his cheek against Sirius’ chest, the heartbeat in his ear still slowing from the rush of the moment before. Sirius lifted a hand to slide off Remus’ glasses and lobbed them towards the foot of the bed, murmuring nonsensical affections, before burying his nose in Remus’ hair and losing consciousness.

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