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Remus was sitting propped up on his bed when he heard steps thundering up the stairs to the dorm. Usually, this was a sure indication of an approaching Sirius, so he was surprised when it was James who burst through the door, face flushed and hair even more askew than normal.
“Moony, you need to come put the dog in his kennel.”
Looking back to his book, Remus turned the page unconcerned. “Why do I have to do it?”
James rolled his eyes and sat on the edge of his bed. “Because I’m the good friend and brother, and you’re the prefect. I procured the alcohol to help get him through his first Christmas away from his family, but now we’re approaching ‘singing on the table’ levels of drunken Sirius, so-”
From where the door was still open the two heard the sound of bagpipes, which was normally a cause for concern anyway, but especially given there was a drunken Padfoot in the common room.
Sighing in defeat, Remus set his book on his desk as he passed by, shoving his feet into the first pair of trainers he found. Luckily they were Sirius’ and not Peters, so they actually fit his feet. Plodding down the stairs after James, he paused to lean against the wall at the foot of them.
Sirius was, as expected, on a table, clutching a mug that sloshed as he swayed in time to the music.
The season's upon us, it's that time of year
Firewhiskey and eggnog, there's plenty of cheer
There's lights on the trees and there's wreaths to be hung
There's mischief and mayhem and songs to be sung
He raised his glass higher for mischief and mayhem and managed to splash himself with a bit of firewhiskey, but didn’t seem to notice and just continued singing. Barefoot on a table in bright red Christmas pyjamas, his hair was mussed and he should look like a right mess, but Remus just stared wishing he could mess it up even more.
There's bells and there's holly, the kids are gung-ho
True love finds a kiss beneath fresh mistletoe
Some families are messed up while others are fine
If you think yours is crazy, well you should see mine
Groaning, Remus understood why Sirius had chosen this song and knew that James was right and he better stop him before it really got out of control. Pushing off the wall he came to stand at the base of the table, dodging sprinkles of drink. Sirius’ eyes were closed though, so he didn’t notice, as he sang the next verse.
My cousins are wack jobs, I wish I had none
Their husbands are losers and so are their sons
My nephew's a horrible wise little twit
He once gave me a nice gift wrapped box full of shit
He likes to pelt carollers with icy snowballs
I'd like to take him out back and deck more than the halls
With family like this I would have to confess
I'd be better off lonely, distraught and depressed
Remus is grateful that not many students stayed for this holiday break. Wouldn’t due to ruin all the little first and second years idea of the happy-go-lucky Sirius Black with the image of him depressed and drunk off his ass on top of a table. Gripping his friend by the shins, Remus finally gets his attention.
Sirius’ smile doesn’t reach his eyes when he looks down, but he does stop singing. “Wotcher, Moons. Come to see my performance.”
“Yes, I thought it deserved an audience. What do you say we go up to the dorm though and let Lily have some peace down here.”
Shooting a glance toward his friend, Sirius made an apologetic gesture, but seemingly missed the overt display of concern etched on her face. Even before Remus or James, Sirius spilled the gruesome details of his fleeing from Grimmauld place to Lily immediately upon returning for sixth year.
Remus held a hand up and helped Sirius climb down off the table, steadying him as they climb the stairs and close the door solidly behind them. He plucked the mug from the other’s hand before he can spill it on anything in the room, and doesn’t protest when Sirius dropped heavily onto Remus’ bed instead of his own.
“Well that was quite a show down there, care to talk about it?” The grumble he received in response hardly qualified as an answer. Sitting down next to him, Remus hesitated for a moment, before allowing himself the indulgence of brushing Sirius’ hair from his face. “Your family was awful at the holidays. Why are you upset?”
He thought he wouldn’t be receiving an answer when Sirius rolled over so his back was to him, laying silently for a long time, but Sirius surprised him while plucking nervously at the blanket. “Family is supposed to love you. Especially at the holidays. And if mine couldn’t even love me then, then maybe no one ever will,” he mumbled.
Remus felt like his heart was being torn in two. Before he could come up with any sort of response, Sirius was continuing, but it seemed like he had forgotten it was Remus who had led him to the dorm. Remus , whose bed he was currently lying in.
“I don’t blame him for not loving me, James. I just. It doesn’t make it any less painful knowing I do and I don’t deserve him.”
Him? Sirius loved a him? Not just liked, or crushed, but loved? Was it James he loved, or was it James he thought he was talking to?? Either would make sense really, but guiltily Remus hoped it was the second.
Sirius’ breath was evening out, and Remus knew he’d be asleep in seconds, lulled into dreams by the heat of the fire and the whiskey. “Don’t tell Moony,” his voice was barely a whisper, mumbled through the encroaching haze of sleep into the pillow beneath his cheek.
Remus’ heart beat double time and he sat frozen, staring at the slow rise and fall of Sirius’ back. He chewed his lip, pondering the moral dilemma he was in. On the one hand, all of them frequently slept in the same bed. Whether it was because one was compromised from a potion gone wrong, or because of nightmares, it was an unspoken agreement between the Marauders that it wasn’t weird. However, in light of Sirius’ confession and state of drunkenness, was that still the case?
After hemming and hawing for ages, Remus decided he couldn’t let Sirius wake up alone, thinking himself unloved, especially if he realised it had been Remus he confessed it. Gently, he pulled back the covers, tucking Sirius under them before sliding in himself and closing the curtains with a wave of his wand.
He laid very still next to Sirius, entirely too aware of the few inches between them and mind too active to sleep. Eventually he must have drifted off though, because the next conscious thought he was aware of was how pleasantly warm he was. He wished, however, the bed would stop shifting so he could sleep some more. Trying to say as much, just came out as a disgruntled growl.
“Moony?” he heard, hesitantly.
Cracking one eye open, he saw Sirius peering at him over his shoulder. The boy shifted, rolling over beneath Remus’ arm that must have found its way around his waist in the night. Sirius didn’t seem to mind though, as he shifted closer. His voice was scratchy, and he winced at the motion, but Sirius’ tolerance for whiskey was equally a blessing and a curse. He rarely was hungover, but he knew that and took more advantage of it than Remus would have liked.
In the back of his sleep addled mind, Remus remembered the night before, but was too tired to be much concerned or analyse it too deeply. Instead he just hummed in confirmation.
Fingers brushed his jaw and he automatically smiled and nuzzled against the hand. “Am I dreaming?”
Remus tightened his hold on Sirius, and shushed him vaguely. “Sleep.”
That was apparently all it took for Sirius, or perhaps he was just too confused to fight it, but either way he allowed himself to be drug closer. He buried his face in Remus’ neck, breathing deeply through his nose in a way that tickled.
Pressing a kiss to the top of his head and hugging the boy as tight as he could, Remus whispered, “love you, Pads. Happy Christmas.”