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The front door to the townhouse slammed shut with the wind behind Remus with a loud thud.
“Merlin, it’s cold,” Remus muttered under his breath to no one in particular. He dropped his worn leather messenger bag onto the bench in the small entryway slash mudroom, then started pulling off his snow soaked outerwear to hang on the hooks to dry. They were nearly drenched, but he decided to let them dry the Muggle way rather than cast a drying charm on them. It wasn’t like he was planning on venturing back out into the surprise blizzard again that day. He wouldn’t have gone out all if he hadn’t needed to give a final exam to the Introduction to Fantasy Literature course he was teaching as part of his graduate program.
The wind howled outside, sounding eerily like the wolf Remus transformed into once a month. Remus shivered. No, he definitely would not be going out again. His plan was to go upstairs, change out of his snow soaked trousers, and curl up on the couch with his husband. Maybe with some Chinese takeaway that they ordered by Floo. He sat on the bench to unlace his boots—well, Sirius’ boots. They were a bit too big for him, but were better in the snow and fit alright as long as he wore the thick, swollen socks that his mother had knitted for him for Christmas last year. Grabbing his bag off the bench, he padded up the stairs. The sound of the Carpenters’ Christmas album replaced the sound of the howling wind outside as Remus stepped into the warm sitting room. He could hear Sirius’ crooning along with the record player coming from the kitchen, which Remus figured was also where the delectable smell of tomato and basil that wafted through the flat was coming from. Remus smiled to himself and set his bag down on the chair by his roll-top desk before making a quick detour to the bedroom to change into warmer clothes.
Sufficiently warmer now that he was wearing the pair of flannel pajama bottoms he liked to steal from Sirius despite being about five inches too long for him, Remus padded out of the bedroom, through the sitting room to the dining room. Flickering candles floated above the table, which was set with the nice tablecloth and china that Lily and James had gotten them as a wedding present. In the center was an open bottle of wine and a solitary glass of red wine. Remus continued through to the kitchen to find Sirius standing in front of the stove.
Remus watched his husband of eight months pick up the glass of wine from the counter and take a sip as he lazily waved his wand over the bubbling pot of tomato sauce. The stolen t-shirt he was wearing was the littlest bit too short, revealing just how low the grey joggers hung on his hips. It was moments like these that had Remus wondering how he’d gotten so lucky.
It seemed as if Sirius was still oblivious to his presence, so Remus crept up behind him and wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist from behind. “It smells good in here,” he mumbled, nosing at the space between Sirius’ shoulder blades.
Sirius flinched in surprise, but quickly recovered and set his wine down to place his hand over Remus’ where they rested on his stomach. “Hey, Moons, how was class?”
“Fine, but I wish I hadn’t needed to go in, especially since you had the day off.”
“Well, I have the next two weeks off, and you’re done for the semester now, right?” Sirius asked.
Remus nodded against his shoulder. “So, what is all of this about?” he asked.
Sirius let out a dramatic gasp. “Remus, did you forget? Today is our anniversary.”
“Pads, I love you, but I think you’re confused because that’s not until April,” Remus said with an amused tone.
“Not the anniversary I’m talking about, love.” Sirius turned in Remus’ arms and held out a beaten-up wooden spoon. “Taste that.”
Remus complied, licking a small bit of sauce off of the spoon. He held it in his mouth for a moment to let the flavors wash over his tongue. “Hm, just a touch more salt, I think.”
Sirius bought the spoon to his mouth and tasted the sauce. “Yup. Salt,” he agreed.
Remus let go of his waist and leaned on the counter next to the stove to let Sirius work. He picked up Sirius’ wine glass and stole a sip. “Oh, you broke out one of the good bottles. What are we celebrating then, if not our wedding anniversary?” he asked, trying to wrack his brain for whatever event could possibly warrant a fancy dinner and wine. But he was coming up empty.
Sirius smiled and plucked the wine out of Remus’ hand. “That's mine, thank you very much.” He waved his wand, summoning the other glass from the dining room table. It glided through the air, right into Remus’ still outstretched hand.
Remus took a drink from his glass as he waited for Sirius to take pity on him and let him in on the big secret.
“Honestly, Remus. Stealing my wine, forgetting our first date.” Sirius shook his head and tutted.
“Alright,” Remus began, “I’ll admit to the wine stealing, but I will not admit to forgetting our first date. That was one of the best days of my life, I’ll have you know.”
“Well, that day was exactly five years ago,” Sirius said, punctuating the statement with a kiss that tasted of Merlot, tomatoes, and home.
Remus smiled against Sirius’ lips and pulled him back for another, longer kiss. “We’ve never celebrated that before. Why now? Not that I’m complaining.”
“Five years is a big deal,” Sirius said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Remus’s smile softened. Merlin, he loved this man who, underneath the aloof, bad-boy persona, was actually soft, kind, and sentimental. But only for Remus.
He set his glass on the counter and gently took Sirius’ from him, setting it on the counter as well. “Come here, you.”
Sirius grinned and let Remus pull him against his chest. “Hi there,” he said, settling his hands on Remus’ waist.
Remus’ arms came to wrap around Sirius’ neck. “Hi,” he whispered before lifting to his toes to press their lips together. Sirius hummed into the kiss and flicked his tongue over Remus’ lip. Remus sighed and let his mouth fall open for him to explore in a way that only came with five years of familiarity.
All too soon, Sirius was pulling away with a gentle nip at his lower lip. “I’m going to burn dinner at this rate,” he said, his voice low and slightly raspy.
“Well, we can’t have that,” Remus said matter-of-factly.
Sirius brushed a kiss on Remus’ nose. “Grab our glasses and I’ll bring out plates.”
Remus smiled and pressed his lips to the corner of Sirius’ mouth before grabbing their wine and heading to the dining room. He topped off their glasses and sat in his usual chair. Moments later, Sirius followed, carrying two plates with steaming penne and marinara sauce. He set the plates down, dropping a kiss to the top of Remus’ head as he did, then sat down.
“Shall we toast?” Sirius suggested.
“To what?” Remus asked, picking up his glass.
“I don’t know. To us, I guess?” Sirius said with a shrug.
“Eloquent.”
“Shut up, I made dinner. I’ve fulfilled my romantic quota for the evening.”
Remus smirked and tangled their legs together under the table.
Sirius waggled an eyebrow. “Are you playing footsie with me, Moony?”
“Mmhm,” he hummed without a trace of embarrassment. “How about this: may the next five years be just as ridiculous and wonderful as the past five have been. And may we never again be as helpless and oblivious as we were for the five before that.”
“We were a little helpless, weren’t we?” Sirius said with a laugh.
“A bit.”
They clinked their glasses and took a sip. “Happy anniversary, Rem.”
Remus smiled and leaned forward to bring their faces within an inch of each other. “Happy anniversary, Pads,” he said before closing the distance between them.