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Remus hunched over the sink, gripping the sides of it as he stared deeply into the pair of green eyes reflected back to him in the mirror. Those pooling, inquisitive green eyes that had always remained the same, ever constant despite all of the changes he had endured over the years. He had learned to appreciate them in time, just as he had learned to appreciate the rest of his features. His hair, always brushed neatly to one side. His nose, prominent and strong. His moustache, a personal crowning achievement that secretly took years to properly grow. His scars, a pale reminder of a distant memory that now gave him strength rather than shame.
He straightened from his peering stance and took the time to fully examine himself in the mirror, his bath towel snug around his waist and his shoulders glistening with the water that had dripped off his wet hair. He was proud to admit that he liked what he saw.
Remus had always had a bittersweet relationship with his reflection. When he was younger, he refused to even look into a mirror because the person who looked back at him was not who he really was. If he did look at his reflection he would stare directly into his own eyes, because to stray from them would be to see the face and the body that caused him terrible grief. It was the face and the body that others saw; it was nothing like how he imagined himself to be. No matter how proud or how confident he strived to be, on some days all it took was a glance in the mirror to send his entire self-image tumbling down.
But all of that felt so distant now.
The sound of muffled footsteps followed by the gentle rapping of knuckles on the door reminded him that he couldn’t spend all night reminiscing and pondering the growth and acceptance of himself over the years ー at least, not while hiding away in the bathroom.
“You alright, love?” sounded a warm, patient voice. Remus could tell by the way the voice sounded that its owner was leaning close against the doorframe.
“I’ll be right out,” he replied, and hastily gave himself a once-over with his towel before clumsily tugging his clothes over his still-damp body. He gave one more look to the man in the mirror now, smoothing his sweater over his chest and turning to the side to view his profile. Then, with a smile, he nodded and opened the door.
On the other side of the door, Remus was greeted by a crooked smile and deep grey eyes that nearly overflowed with affection every time they settled upon him. “Handsome as ever,” said Sirius, and as his gaze slowly traveled up and down Remus in a way that had given him the same butterflies for years, he kissed each of Remus’s hands in turn.
“You’re such a sap,” teased Remus as he was led by the hand through the hallway towards the kitchen. Anyone who knew him could easily retort that he was making quite the hypocritical comment, but Sirius just hummed in amusement as a response.
Tonight Remus was particularly studious of Sirius’s hand in his own ー his long, slender fingers, his slightly calloused palms, his well-manicured fingernails, glistening with a fresh coat of red nail polish. They were perfect, just like the rest of him. As they walked together with a bit of haste in their steps, Remus couldn’t help but smile.
Once they arrived in the kitchen, Sirius made a grand bowing gesture in the direction of the countertop where a small cake with blue frosting and a single candle rested. “I made you a cake!” he announced boldly, but with a mischievous tilt of his head he quickly added, “But I burned it terribly, so instead I went to the store and bought this one.” It made Remus’s heart flutter just the same.
“It looks like someone got to the cake before me.” Remus chuckled and squeezed Sirius’s hand as he pointed in the direction of the high chair in which a very squeaky and excited Teddy Lupin was absolutely covered in cake crumbs and icing; even his hair was streaked with blue and white.
“Hey, you were taking a while and he was getting grumpy! Being a good dad means always giving your child exactly what he wants, right?” At that, they both laughed.
Sirius led Remus to the dining table and pulled out a chair for him in a very over-dramatic, very Sirius-Black way before going to get the cake and setting it down in front of him. Save for a missing corner piece, it was a quite beautiful cake with the words “Happy 10 Years!” piped across it in white icing. Just under the message was a small rectangle of pink, blue, and white horizontal stripes. Judging by the opened jar of frosting and the mess of empty piping bags and spilled food coloring bottles on the countertop, Remus could guess that Sirius had added that part in himself. He didn’t even realize that he was crying until a teardrop ran off of his chin and splashed onto his hand. Sirius stood behind him and kissed the top of his head.
“Happy ten years,” Sirius murmured, resting his chin now on Remus’s shoulder. Remus pulled his hand forward to give it a kiss, since he was too overwhelmed to form words. Ten years. Ten years since the first day that that nervous boy pulled a tiny vial of liquid out of a box with his name on it. Ten years since the day he felt that his life truly began. Ten years since he started his transition.
“I love you.” It was all Remus could manage to say aloud. But it wasn’t directed to his husband in particular. He loved Sirius. He loved Teddy. He loved the family they built together, and the home they shared, and the memories they had formed over the years since they were teenagers. He loved the thoughtfulness Sirius had put in to help him celebrate such a life-changing date. But most importantly, he loved himself. And that wasn’t something he could say ten years ago.
He blew out the candle. He didn’t need to wish for anything.