Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Francis of Assisi created the nativity scene in 1223, performed on Christmas Eve in a cave near Greccio. 

It was created to help people understand that Christ would come in poverty and humility. 

Yet now, 801 years later. The nativity has become some sort of elaborate yearly spectacle for parental amusement, complete with Pinterest-inspired props, toddlers dressed as sheep chewing on their costumes, and inexplicably, a Darth Vader or two lurking near the manger.

But for teachers? Oh, the nativity is no charming holiday tradition. It is a logistical nightmare. A Herculean burden. The ghost of Christmas stress that haunts educators every December, from the moment someone chirps, “Wouldn’t it be lovely if we did a nativity play this year?”

Because behind the scenes of every adorably chaotic performance is a teacher frantically trying to keep the peace. They are herding Mary and Joseph away from a fistfight over who gets the better donkey costume, convincing a weeping angel that her wings are perfectly symmetrical , and fielding an urgent call from a parent asking if their son can be a Transformer shepherd instead of a regular one.

It’s a job that Remus Lupin has narrowly avoided for the six years that he’s worked at Gryffindor Primary School. A school that, despite every teacher's dismay, continues to host a nativity each year to please the parents and the school board. 

And now, it’s the first day back after half term, the dreaded date that the teacher organising it this year is announced. 

“Good morning everyone, I hope you all had a good half term.”

Minerva McGonagall, the headteacher who's forced into this each and every year by the higher ups and hates it just as much as the rest of them, greets them all. 

Every teacher is sat around the large round table in the staff room whilst Minerva stands at the head of it, a notebook and pen in hand. There are chorused responses from some of them, mumbles from others. 

No one ever likes returning from a two week holiday. 

“We have a few things to go over today. But first I have the… fun and exciting task of telling you all who will be in charge of running the nativity this year.” 

She says that with a straight face and her voice dripping with sarcasm, because no, nobody wants to be in charge of organising the nativity. In fact, there are a few sharp intakes of breath at her words, and other groans of distaste. There's also the unmistakable sound of someone muttering, "Not it."

“Like always, I pulled a name out of a hat. Poppy was there to supervise, to check that there was no foul play.”

Poppy nods next to Minerva, confirming the integrity of what is essentially the school’s version of a Hunger Games draw.

“So this year's lucky teacher is…” 

Remus Lupin crosses every finger and toe under the table. 

Not me. Not me. Not me , he thinks again and again.

It’s not that he doesn’t love teaching. But wrangling thirty overexcited primary schoolers into playing pretend Biblical characters for the sole purpose of impressing their parents? Hard pass. He barely has time for his regular duties as it is, let alone adding this to his workload.

“Remus!” 

For fucks sake . 

Remus’ jaw drops as everyone turns to look at him. James is laughing, of course he is and Lily isn’t doing a great job at hiding her smile behind the hand covering her face. Benji visibly relaxes beside him, as do many of the other teachers that would rather eat a pile of shit than direct thirty odd children in a nativity. 

At this moment, Remus decides that he hates Francis of Assisi.

“Will you come to my office after the meeting? I have something to talk to you about.” Minerva then asks him. 

Remus just nods, deciding to say nothing, because quite frankly, he doesn’t think he can muster words without a sarcastic or rude tone.

The meeting continues. Dates are discussed, a few minor repairs from half term are reviewed, and the glue stick shortage is lamented yet again. There’s a mention of a new staff member, but it barely registers because all Remus can think about is the month of hell that is about to grace him.

Once the meeting is over, Remus avoids the smug looks from the other teachers and refrains from shoving a sock in James’ laughing mouth. 

“It’s not that bad!” Lily chirps once the meeting ends, catching him by the coffee station.

Remus fixes her with a look. “The last time you were in charge of the nativity, you ended up in A&E.”

She shrugs, as if it was nothing. “That was my own fault for thinking that a bunch of seven year olds would be responsible enough with fake snow. I was bound to slip.”

“Okay what about Mary! She had fifteen parent complaints about hers.” Remus continues. 

Lily laughs at that. “That was because she had Mary and Joseph sing ‘Pony’ whilst riding on the donkey to Bethlehem. If anything she should’ve had more complaints.”

Remus can’t help the small, reluctant smile that creeps onto his face. That nativity had been infamous—wildly inappropriate but hysterically funny. Mary had claimed it was an honest mistake, though everyone suspected otherwise. It was, admittedly, a genius move to ensure she’d never be asked again.

Maybe he’ll take a leaf out of her book and have the children sing ‘Apple Bottom Jeans’ or ‘WAP’. 

He talks with Lily for a little while longer whilst he makes himself a coffee and then he takes himself to Minerva's office. When he gets there, he can hear muffled noises of a conversation, so rather than just walking in like he usually does, he knocks and waits.

“Come in!” Minerva calls.

He pushes the door open, fully prepared to negotiate his way out of this disaster. But the words die in his throat when he spots the other person in the room.

Because fuck me. This man is beautiful. God-like with his long dark curls that fall to his shoulder and his sharp cheekbones. He’s shorter than Remus, perhaps by a few inches and he looks around the same age, if not younger. 

The man smiles—a wide, dazzling grin that has Remus’s stomach doing acrobatics.

“You must be Remus?” The beautiful man says instantly, reaching a hand out in greeting. 

Remus takes it, struggling to form the words because he is now touching the beautiful man. “I am, and you are?”

“This is Sirius Black.” Minerva tells him before he can respond. “He’s your new classroom assistant.”

“Right.” Remus looks at Minerva and raises a brow, she just smirks at him, a teasing glint in her eye. “I wasn’t aware I needed an assistant.”

“It’s mostly to help with the nativity” Sirius tells him, looking up at Remus with light grey eyes in a way that makes his stomach twist and turn. “I love a good Christmas production. Minnie thought it might be nice to have someone… creative to bounce ideas off. Plus, I’ve got a background in the arts—drama club captain back in the day,” Sirius says with a wink, as if that explains everything.

Remus blinks at him. This man, this stunningly gorgeous man, is going to help him wrangle thirty-odd children into learning lines, not picking their noses on stage, and maybe—just maybe—remembering which way to exit after their scene? This has to be a joke.

“Right,” Remus says finally, his voice catching slightly on the word. He clears his throat. “Well, welcome aboard. I’m sure your… expertise will come in handy.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will,” Sirius replies, his grin growing wider. Remus knows, with absolute certainty, that Sirius is going to be trouble. The fun kind. The dangerous kind. The far-too-attractive-to-be-real kind.

“Remus,” Minerva says, interrupting his increasingly unhelpful thoughts, “Sirius will be shadowing you for the next few weeks, getting a feel for how things are run here. And of course, assisting with the nativity as needed.”

Shadowing. Of course. That means Sirius will be in his classroom, his personal space, practically glued to his side during what is already the busiest, most stressful time of the year. Brilliant.

He’d be more pissed off if Sirius wasn’t so attractive.

“That sounds… great,” Remus says weakly, shooting a glare at Minerva that says he knows she planned this, and she’s going to owe him. Big time.

Minerva just smiles, clearly unrepentant. “Wonderful. Sirius, I’ll leave you in Remus’ capable hands. I’m sure you two will make an excellent team.”

“Thanks Minnie!” Sirius tells her. Remus’ eyes widen when Minerva doesn’t so much as react to the nickname.

Once the two of them have left the office, Sirius turns to him as they walk in the direction of Remus’ classroom and asks, “so what's the plan then?”

“Er, well today we have Maths and English before lunch and then History and Art after.” Remus tells him. “We’ll probably do a bit of handwriting and silent reading too.”

Sirius pulls a face. “But we need to start doing auditions.”

“Auditions?” Remus repeats, furrowing his brow as he glances sideways at Sirius. “For the nativity? It’s not even December yet.”

“Exactly,” Sirius replies, his expression entirely serious. “The sooner we start the better it will be!”

Remus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s a primary school nativity, Sirius. They’re not training for the West End.”

Sirius looks amused. “You don’t seem too happy about this arrangement.” He points out. 

“No shit Sherlock.” Remus deadpans. “I could think of a million things I’d rather do than this nativity.”

Sirius chuckles, unbothered by Remus’ bluntness. “Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad.”

Remus gives him a withering look. “Oh, really? Let me paint you a picture: thirty kids hyped up on advent calendar chocolate, five different versions of Away in a Manger butchered beyond recognition, and parents ready to riot if their kid doesn’t get a speaking role. Shall I continue?”

“You could at least attempt to be optimistic.” Sirius tells him. “The sooner we start, the longer they have to practice and learn to sing on pitch. I really want this to be good! I’ve got a few different ideas for you to look over when you get the chance.”

They’re nearing his classroom now. Remus just shakes his head and says, “we’ll discuss it properly later, at lunch or after school.”

“But school doesn’t start for another twenty minutes?” 

Remus feels his cheeks go a bit pink as he says “I thought maybe we could spend it getting to know each other a bit…if you’re okay with that.”

“Oh” Sirius says, a smile creeping onto his lips. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

Remus smiles back at him, “I’ll give you a quick run through of what to expect as well. The children are all lovely, but a few of them just need a bit of extra assistance.” 

“Okay” Sirius nods. 

They make it to the door of his classroom, pushing open the door which is full of paintings from his class or little notes they’d written him over the past few months. “This is us, 3L, well I guess 3LB now.”

“What an honour” Sirius mocks, hand on his heart, stepping in behind Remus. “3LB has quite the ring to it.”

“The kids will be happy to have someone new, they’re all a bit bored of me now.” Remus tells him, making his way over to his desk and taking a seat, placing his mug in front of him. 

“I highly doubt that, I’ve heard good things about your teaching.” Sirius assures him, following behind.

Remus cocks his head slightly, “from who?”

Sirius pulls over a chair and sits down. “James. He talks about you all the time, I think my brother gets quite jealous actually.”

“Your brother?” 

“James’ husband.” Sirius tells him. 

Remus raises an eyebrow, piecing together the connection. “Regulus?” Sirius nods, “I can see it now actually, you both look quite similar.”

“Except I'm more handsome though, right?”

He feels his cheeks flush again, more aggressively this time. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Sirius doesn’t seem too bothered by his sarcasm and instead starts looking around at the classroom, specifically at the work that covers the walls. “The school I last worked at didn’t let us put stuff on the walls, they had to be all plain white.”

“Really?” Remus asks, because it shocks him that a school, especially a primary school with such young children would be so strict. “What school?”

“Slytherin.” Sirius tells him. It looks as if it pains him to say.

“Why did you leave?” Remus asks, pressing deeper, wanting to know Sirius more because honestly, he’s never heard a good word about Slytherin.

Sirius hesitates, chewing at his bottom lip. “I was ‘let go’ actually. They didn’t agree with my lifestyle .”

Remus’ eyes narrow, confused. “What does your lifestyle have to do with them?”

The other man laughs slightly, but it's more of a bitter laugh, an awkward one. “I was just too gay for them. Apparently it made some parents uncomfortable .” 

Oh . Oh oh oh oh oh .

Remus hates himself for the way he feels at that. The way that his heart rate most definitely speeds up and his hands start to feel clammy. 

Because God, there's a beautiful man who's straight and therefore you have no chance with. And then there's a beautiful man who is openly gay and you likely still won’t have a chance with because he is just that beautiful. 

He gathers himself quickly, mentally shaking off any thoughts. 

“Well, they’re not like that here.” Remus assures him, and then he adds. “Half the faculty are queer actually, thinking about it now, and the parents are all pretty decent.”

Sirius grins. “I’ll fit right in then.”

He then leans back in his chair, glancing around the classroom again. “You’ve made this place feel really welcoming. I like it.”

Remus clears his throat, trying not to over analyse the way the compliment makes him feel. “Thanks. The kids like seeing their work on the walls—it gives them a sense of pride. It’s their space too, not just mine.”

Sirius tilts his head, considering him. “You really care about them, don’t you?”

The question catches Remus off guard, but he answers honestly. “Yeah. They’re good kids. They deserve someone who gives a damn.”

Sirius’s smile widens. “You’re full of surprises, Mr. Lupin.”

Remus snorts softly, shaking his head. “You’re making it sound more noble than it is. Most days, I’m just trying to keep them from stapling their homework to each other or eating the glue.”

“Ah, the joys of primary school,” Sirius says with a dramatic sigh, but his grin doesn’t falter.

Remus looks at the clock. “I’ll quickly go over some of the things you need to know before they all arrive.”

He tells Sirius about where to find the hospital slip in case Trinity is to have a seizure, and he tells him where to find the toys that George likes to play with when he gets particularly overwhelmed. He shows him the seating plan and points out who needs extra help and who tends to need some extra encouragement. 

Throughout, Remus learns more about Sirius. He learns that he’s twenty seven, three years younger than himself, and he worked at Slytherin for four years before he was let go. 

He also learns that Sirius loves art, which he’d already gathered from his appreciation of the children's artwork hung up around the room.  

He also has a motorbike. Remus is speechless at that, hardly managing to form a coherent response just at the thought of Sirius sitting on a motorbike. 

He’s enjoying getting to know Sirius, but soon enough, the playground outside starts to get louder and Remus can hear the familiar screams and laughs of some of his students. 

With only a minute to spare until the bell rings for the start of day, he turns to Sirius and asks “you ready?”

He nods, somehow appearing both nervous and confident at once. “Do you think they’ll like me?”

And although Remus would usually lie and just say yes to spare their feelings, this time he doesn’t need to lie. “I’m certain that they will.”

Chapter Text

Sirius Black has been working at Gryffindor primary school for a week and a half now. That’s eight shifts, nine hours each day, and Remus Lupin has somehow managed to avoid talking to him about the nativity on every single one of those days. 

Sirius has been relentless, bringing it up when he can, sharing some ideas or telling Remus that he’s sent him an email with some links to costume websites. But every single time, his co-worker finds an excuse to continue the conversation on or a reason to leave Sirius’ proximity. 

On his first day, Remus had told him that they could discuss it at lunch, or after school. But Remus had been suspiciously absent from the staffroom at lunch and he’d let Sirius leave early after school, which Sirius had only realised the ulterior motive behind once he’d gotten home. 

So he tried again the next day but Remus had brushed him off again and said that they had stuff to prepare for that day, so they didn’t have time. 

He’d mentioned it again before the weekend but Remus had excuses again, saying that he had to leave quickly to get home to his cat. 

And feeling optimistic, on Monday, he’d asked if Remus had looked at his ideas over the weekend and Remus had just pretended that he’d forgotten.

It’s starting to really piss him off. 

But then he’ll look at Remus, with those warm honey brown eyes and his stupidly adorable cardigans and he can’t find it in himself to be angry anymore. 

“I just don’t understand why he hates it so much!” Sirius complains to James. 

He’s come to James and Regulus’ house after work for dinner, like he does every Wednesday, and the three of them are sitting around the dining table.

“Because it sounds like literal hell on earth.” Regulus deadpans. “I couldn’t think of anything worse than having to plan a primary school nativity.”

Sirius looks to James for some support, but James is nodding in agreement. He glares at him. 

“Don’t look at me like that! You watched my attempt at the nativity and you both slandered me for months afterwards.”

“The costumes were literally taped together, James.” Sirius reminds him. 

“One of the kids was obsessed with scissors! He cut everything up!” 

Regulus laughs. “I don’t blame Remus at all for being pissed off.”

“But he’s being a right Scrooge about it.” Sirius continues, “he won’t discuss anything Christmassy with me, not even when I asked him what his favourite Christmas song was.”

Regulus rolls his eyes, “you sound ridiculous right now. Not everyone starts celebrating in November like you do.”

Sirius huffs, because fine, maybe his brother’s right and maybe he is being a bit over eager. But he wants to prove himself, this play is a way of showing everyone that he’s good at what he does. He wants the children to have fun, he wants the parents to enjoy it, he wants to impress the other teachers, he wants to help Remus the best that he can. 

It sounds stupid, he’s using a nativity to prove his worth. But the people at Slytherin never thought he was good enough, constantly criticising him, putting him down, complaining. Nothing was ever good for them and it made Sirius feel like he wasn’t good enough, that he wasn’t good at his job.

He needs this to prove to himself that he’s good at what he does.

It also doesn’t help that this year, Slytherin is also doing a nativity, and of all people, it’s Severus Snape who is in charge. The man that Sirius was constantly in competition with, both of them doing their most to be better than the other at all times. 

And this is just another example of something that he needs to beat Snape in. 

“I suppose,” Sirius says, pushing the last of his pasta around in his blate (a bowl plate. Regulus is obsessed with them.)

“Just give Remus a bit of time,” James urges him. “He’s a tough nut to crack.”

Sirius frowns because he honestly thinks that he and Remus have been getting on fine. The other man has been nothing but kind to Sirius over the past week, despite his avoidance tactics. He’s funny, the two of them often laugh together, and they’re never short on conversation topics. 

Yeah, okay, sometimes he can be a little grumpy, often when he’s overwhelmed. But everyone gets like that, right? Or is that just how Sirius sometimes makes him feel? 

God, he really wants Remus to like him, more than anyone else at that school. 

Regulus is looking at him, an intense look in his eyes. “You fancy him.” He states eventually. 

“Uh-” Sirius splutters defensively. “I do not!”

James laughs “oh my God you do! You fancy the shit out of him!” 

He groans, putting his fork down and abandoning that last bit of penne to bury his face in his hands. 

“Fine. Yes I fancy him. Have you seen that man?” He finally admits. 

Both of the other men nod. 

“He’s very tall.” Regulus points out.

“And very smart.” James adds. 

“He’s a really really good teacher too,” Sirius adds, “the children worship him, and just watching him with them, ugh, it makes me fancy him more.”

James grins. “You’ve got it bad already.”

“Do you know if he even likes men?” Sirius asks James.

His friend shrugs “he’s quite private about all of that stuff, he’s never mentioned anyone and he never brings anyone to the staff parties.”

“I’m sure he does,” Regulus says, sipping his wine. “I remember us having a drunken conversation about Chris Evans arse once.”

“It doesn’t matter, I can’t exactly date him anyway. Can I?” Sirius says.

“Why not?” James asks. “Minnie doesn’t have any rules against it, as long as there's no drama she doesn’t care.”

“Really?” Sirius asks, shocked. 

“Yeah. Lily and Mary are dating and I’m pretty sure Benji and Caradoc hooked up after the end of year work party.” 

Regulus then asks, “why don’t you just ask him out? What's the worst that could happen?”

“He could say no and then I’d die of embarrassment.” 

James then has the most brilliant idea and it reminds Sirius of why he chose this man as his best friend. “Why don’t we ask a few people to the Marauder on friday after work? I could mention it to Lily and Mary, maybe Benji, and you could ask Remus. Then you have some time to get to know him outside of work.”

Regulus is nodding along “flirt with him a bit and see how he reacts, then you can see if he’s into you or not.”

Sirius stares at them, his stomach a mixture of nerves and excitement. “I’ll ask him. But if this goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming both of you.”

They both raise their glasses in solidarity, smug, proud, grins on their faces.

So Friday comes around and Sirius is trying to figure out how to ask. He’s been practicing in his head all morning, trying to sound as casual as possible but not in a careless way but not in a way that makes him seem like he cares too much. 

He walks into the classroom and Remus is there as usual, two mugs in front of him. He smiles up at Sirius and says “I made you a coffee.”

Sirius wants to pounce on him then and there, but instead, he smiles back and says “thank you. How was your evening?”

“Pretty uneventful, I watched Labyrinth with my cat and I was asleep by ten. Did you end up making that curry that you were talking about?”

So he’s thoughtful and he listens to what Sirius tells him? Fuck me could this man get any better?

“I did, it was really good actually. I could send you the recipe if you’d like?”

Remus smiles, a warm smile that makes Sirius’ legs feel a little bit like jelly. “I’d like that.”

Now, do it now , he tells himself. Just fucking do it .

“If you’re not up to much tonight, James and I are heading to the Marauder with a few people. I think Lily and Mary said they’d come and Benji seemed up for it.” 

He refrains from letting out an anxious breath afterwards, remaining somewhat calm and collected. 

Did he sound too casual maybe? Too flippant? 

The thoughts in his head are so overwhelming he almost doesn’t register it when Remus answers.

“Can’t miss out on that can I?” 

Sirius grins, relief flooding him. “Definitely not.”

At lunchtime he practically runs to James’ classroom on the other side of the building to tell him and the two of them celebrate like over excited idiots for a few minutes.

That is until Sirius starts to panic. “Oh fuck, what do I wear?”

“Text Reg, he’ll know.” James tells him. 

So after school, Sirius bids Remus a quick goodbye with the promise of seeing him at the pub at six and rushes home to change into what Regulus has planned out for him. Burgundy shirt, black denim jeans, boots, leather jacket. 

He spends an hour trying to make his hair look right, using far too much curling cream to make sure that they sit just right. He puts some eyeliner under his eyes, not enough for it to be too obvious, but enough to make his steel grey eyes pop. 

James and Regulus come over ten minutes before they need to leave.

“Wow Pads,” James says when he sees him. 

Regulus elbows him in the ribs “don’t look at my brother like that.” But then he looks at Sirius and says “I should’ve picked you out an ugly outfit.”

“Is that your way of saying that I look good?” Sirius asks, an eyebrow raised. 

“You look annoyingly good. Just don’t let it go to your head.”

James laughs, clapping Sirius on the back. “Come on, can’t leave Remus waiting.”

“James, I am begging you to please be subtle.” Sirius says. 

“Oi! I’m always subtle.” James defends himself. 

“You’re about as subtle as a whale in a swimming pool” Regulus tells him. “I’ll make sure he behaves, don’t worry.”

“Did you just call me a whale?” James pouts.

Regulus nods. “Love you though.”

James smiles and says it back. “Love you too.”

They make it to the pub not much later. It isn’t a far walk, only twenty minutes, but the Marauder is their favourite pub because their good friend Pete owns it alongside his dad, so there isn’t anywhere else they’d consider for a pint. 

Sirius has to turn to James and Regulus mid way on the walk and say “stop holding hands, you’re making me look like a third wheel.”

“Because you are one?” Regulus says, eyebrow raised.

He doesn’t let go of James’ hand. 

Lily and Mary are already there when they arrive. They managed to snag the big booth in the corner, away from all of the noise of the bar. No Remus yet, which makes Sirius nervous that maybe he’s changed his mind. 

As if she read his mind, Lily tells him, “Benjis stuck in traffic and Remus’s cat is really picky and he has to be fed at exactly six. They shouldn’t be too long.”

Sirius nods, feeling much less nervous. 

“I’ll get the first round, what are you all having?” He announces and then four different orders are reeled off to him. 

He chats to Pete at the bar for a while whilst he makes the drinks. His friend updates him on how his wife, Sybill, is doing with her new business venture, psychic readings. And Sirius tells him about how his new job at Gryffindor is going. 

“Hi.”

Sirius turns to see Remus beside him, smiling softly with his hands in his jacket pockets. His heart skips a beat, and for a moment, he’s sure his brain has short-circuited because all he can do is stare at Remus. His hair is slightly tousled, his honey-brown eyes crinkling at the corners, and he’s wearing a dark brown jumper under a coat that looks ridiculously soft.

“Hi,” Sirius finally manages, his voice just slightly too high. He clears his throat and adds, “You made it.”

“I told you I couldn’t miss it,” Remus says with a smile that’s just shy of shy. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“It’s nice to see you outside of work.” Sirius tells him. “What's your poison? I’m first round.”

“I’ll just have a Guinness if that's alright.” Remus says, leaning against the bar so that he’s facing Sirius fully.

Pete comes over with the other drinks that Sirius had ordered and he apologetically adds a Guinness to the order, knowing how annoying that is for a bartender. 

“How’s your cat?” Sirius asks, suddenly feeling like all words have left his head. How does he flirt? How does he even have a normal conversation without sounding weird?

“She’s fed and happy.” Remus smiles. “I tried giving her dinner at half five but she just wouldn’t eat it.”

“I saw a cat on tiktok that would only eat if its owners sung to it at the same time.” 

The other man laughs which makes Sirius feel a sense of pride, his eyes falling to look at his lips and those smile lines tha curve around his mouth. 

“Thank God my cat isn’t like that, I don’t quite have the musical talents.” 

Pete brings the Guinness over and Sirius pays, thanking him profusely. 

Remus glances down at the drinks Sirius is holding. “Need a hand with those?”

“Oh, uh, sure, thanks!” Sirius stammers, quickly handing him two of the glasses. Their fingers brush, and Sirius hopes to every deity out there that the pub is dark enough to hide the flush spreading across his face.

As Sirius carries the drinks back to the table with Remus beside him, the others are already deep in conversation about their respective classes. 

“You would not believe what I caught Charlie doing with the glitter,” Lily is saying as Sirius and Remus set the drinks down. “Thank you Sirius. It was like a crime scene, glitter fucking everywhere. I had to stay behind after school and help the cleaners, they already hate me enough after the pain incident last year. I’m going to need to get them bottles of wine for Christmas to say sorry.”

Mary grins, a hand placed on her girlfriends glass whilst she takes her glass with the other and raises it in a mock toast. “Here’s to teaching the next generation of gremlins.”

“Hear, hear,” Benji chimes in, grinning as he slides into the booth. 

Sirius sits back down, stealing a glance at Remus as he does. Remus is nursing his drink, seemingly at ease despite being relatively quiet. Their knees bump under the table, and Sirius swears it’s deliberate—except Remus doesn’t look at him, his face frustratingly neutral.

They continue sharing stories from the week and Sirius can’t help but keep stealing glances at Remus. He remains quiet, listening to everyone else talk, laughing when somebody makes a joke, occasionally making a comment to Sirius under his breath. 

“So how are you finding Gryffindor Sirius?” Lily asks him. 

“I’m loving it so far. Everyone’s been really welcoming.” Sirius tells her. He can tell that Remus is watching him, so he adds “Remus has done really well with the class, they’re all amazing.”

With about as much subtlety as a brick, James grins, raising his eyebrows. Regulus jabs him in the arm. 

“The kids all love him.” Remus says, their knees bumping again. “George told me today that Sirius is the coolest .”

Sirius grins, a pink tint spreading across his cheeks. “The novelty will wear off in a few weeks, it’s just because I have long hair and a motorbike.”

“I’m not sure, George usually isn’t so fond of other teaching assistants.” Remus tells him, and Sirius can tell that he isn’t lying. He smiles to himself, feeling somewhat prideful and accomplished at that. 

“You used to work at Slytherin right?” Mary asks. 

Sirius cringes, “unfortunately.”

“God, is it that bad?” Benji chimes in “I've never heard a good thing about that place.”

“It's just– it’s different,” Sirius says, choosing his words carefully. “The kids were fine for the most part, but the parents hold such high standards and I never really got along with the rest of the staff.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” James mutters, earning a glare from Sirius and a stifled laugh from Regulus.

“Does Severus Snape still work there?” Lily asks, earning an “oooo” from James and a pained look from Regulus. 

“You know him?” Sirius responds. 

“I was in the same training programme as him. An absolute knobhead if you ask me, I’ll assume from that reaction that he hasn’t changed?”

“Not even a little,” Sirius replies, shaking his head. 

Knowing exactly what he’s doing, Regulus says “he’s organising the nativity this year isn’t he? I’m sure that’ll be a treat for your rivalry.”

Remus looks at him, brows knitted together, “rivalry?”

Sirius groans, rubbing a hand down his face as the table collectively perks up, sensing a story. “It’s not a rivalry,” he says, but his tone lacks conviction.

“It’s absolutely a rivalry,” James interjects, grinning ear to ear. “Snivellus has had it out for Sirius since day one.”

“We were pitted against each other a lot because we both started at the same time, we just never really got along after that–everything was a competition.” He explains. Lily nods along knowingly. 

Remus looks thoughtful but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Sounds like you’re much better off with us then mate” Benji grins. 

“Toast to that” James announces, holding up his glass. Embarrassingly so, everybody clinks their glasses together, grinning at Sirius. 

They stay at the pub for well over three hours, each of them buying a round—well except for Benji who’s driving and therefore nursing a pepsi max, which caused a coke vs pepsi debate.

Lily and Mary announce that they need to leave first with a busy day ahead tomorrow and an earlyish night needed. Benji offers to drop them home to save the bus journey and the three of them say their goodbyes and head off. 

“We should make this a weekly thing.” James suggests, his glass empty. “I’ve had a brilliant time.”

“I agree” Remus says, “it's nice to talk to you all without worrying that a child is listening in.”

Sirius smiles, a triumphant and slightly tipsy grin. “Definitely. Have you ever slipped up in front of the class before?”

Remus pulls a face. “A few weeks ago, Lily came in to steal my glue stick and I told her to fuck off whilst the whole class was doing silent reading.” 

“Could be worse, when Mary and Lily were first getting together, Mary was telling me all about the first time that they shagged and Analise Foreman was standing in the door listening to the whole thing.” James tells them. 

“You win” Sirius declares once he’s contained his laughter. “I didn’t verbally slip up, but last year I bitch slapped Severus in front of my after school drama club.”

Regulus shakes his head, a smile playing at his lips as he sips the last of his merlot. “You all make me so thankful that I work from home, far, far away from children and annoying co-workers.”

The four of them continue chatting, despite their finished drinks, mostly discussing their weekend plans. That is until James brings up Christmas. 

“Up to much this Christmas Remus?” James asks. 

Remus’ body language changes and Sirius notices the way that his smile drops a little, quickly replaced by one that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“Not much no, I just kind of play it by ear really.” Remus says. Quickly pushing the conversation away from himself, he asks “what about you three?”

“We always spend it with my parents down in Devon.” James explains “I think we’re heading down on the 21st this year and staying for about a week.”

“I wanted to go earlier but James and Sirius refuse to miss the Christmas quiz that Pete and his dad do.” Regulus complains.

“You should come with us, Remus,” Sirius says. “They do it every year on the 20th. We haven’t missed one in five years.”

“Maybe” Remus says, that fake smile still plastered across his face. “I’ll have to let you know.”

Sirius tries not to seem too disappointed and just nods. 

“It’s getting late, I should probably head off.” Remus declares, moving to grab his coat from the back of the chair. 

“You’re right, I think we’re far too old to be here so late on a Friday.” James grins, putting his coat on. 

They all make their way outside, thanking Peter on their way out with the promise of returning next week. James and Regulus say goodbye to Remus first, discreetly walking away slightly to give Sirius and Remus space. 

“Thank you again for inviting me tonight” Remus says with a smile, his nose slightly pink from the cold. “I had a really nice time.”

“Of course, thank you for coming” he responds, shuffling awkwardly on his feet. 

“I, erm, I’ll have a look at those ideas you sent me this weekend.” Remus tells him, “sorry that it’s taken me so long to get round to it.”

Sirius grins. “It’s alright, I know I’m a little over eager about it all.”

Remus shakes his head, “not at all. I’ve been putting it off out of pure dread.”

“What changed your mind?” Sirius asks. 

The other man leans in a little, his voice dropping in volume. Sirius feels like he’s going to faint then and there, barely managing to stop himself from leaning in the full way and snogging the living daylights out of Remus. 

“We need to get started soon if we want ours to be better than Snapes, don’t we?’”

His self control is really being tested today, because that might just be the hottest thing anyone has ever said to him. It’s his equivalent to dirty talk honestly. 

He blinks, his mouth falling open slightly. The only response he can begin to muster is a breathy “yeah.”

Remus laughs, backing away. Sirius yearns for him to come back.

“Goodnight Sirius, I’ll see you on Monday.” Remus says.

“Yeah–Yep. I–See you on Monday,” Sirius splutters. 

He can hear Remus laughing to himself as he walks away. 

James claps him on the shoulder and Regulus looks horrified as he goes over to join them. Despite the distance, it’s clear that they were still eavesdropping and spectating the whole conversation. 

“What the fuck” Regulus asks in disbelief. “I thought you had more game than that?”

“That was pretty appalling Pads” James agrees, linking his hand with Regulus’ again. “I’ve never seen you like that before.”

Sirius groans. “He does something to me, it’s like I forget how to talk normally.” He groans again, “oh my God that was so embarrassing. He laughed at me, he laughed at me .”

“It's done now. Come on,” James says, using the hand on Sirius’ shoulder to guide him away. “I fancy a McFlurry.”

“It’s two degrees James.” Regulus points out, his face straight. 

James just sticks his tongue out at his boyfriend and the three of them head off in the direction of the nearest McDonalds.

Chapter Text

Remus hates to admit that the ideas Sirius has sent him are really good. 

He spends most of Saturday reading through the various emails Sirius has sent him over the past two weeks, researching further into them and making notes on his favourites. 

Sirius, always so patient, emails him a few more times to check that he actually is reading them. The subtle prodding doesn’t bother him—if anything, he knows he deserves it. Sirius has every right to doubt his reliability after he’s put it off for so long.  

He’d had far too much fun at the pub on Friday, which can be judged by the slight headache he woke up with the next day. The memory of the evening makes his stomach twist, though not because of the drinks.

Seeing Sirius outside of work felt like something different, far more personal. At the pub, Sirius had been his usual charming self, but there was something softer about him, something that made Remus feel both at ease and utterly off balance.

It didn’t help that he looked really fucking good. 

Remus had spent the whole night trying not to stare too much at the other man, instead looking down into his drink. But every now and then, his gaze would betray him, drawn back to Sirius’s easy smile, his dark hair falling just-so against the collar of his shirt, the eyeliner smudged under his eyes.

The memory is enough to make Remus scrub a hand over his face in frustration. He glances down at his notes for the nativity play, now organised into categories: costumes, set design, staging. He hates himself a little for how invested he’s become.

What surprises him most, though, is the excitement he feels at the thought of Monday. He wants to get back to school, wants to share his ideas with Sirius. The thought of Sirius’s face lighting up at his suggestions—at finally seeing that Remus has taken this seriously—sends a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Sirius Black might be a lot of things, but it turns out he’s also annoyingly hard to resist.

On Monday, he gets into work at his usual time to find that Sirius is already in the classroom setting things up for the day. 

“Morning” Remus smiles, walking over to his desk to place his things down. There's a mug of coffee waiting for him. “You made me coffee.”

Sirius grins “Yep. Black with two sugars.”

Remus stares at him for a moment, caught off guard by the gesture. “How did you even—”

Sirius interrupts with a nonchalant shrug, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I’ve seen you make enough coffee to notice.”

“Thanks,” he says finally, sitting down and wrapping his hands around the mug. “I looked over your ideas and I made some notes.”

Sirius grins again, somehow wider than before. “Can I see?”

Remus nods, fishing around in his briefcase for his notebook. “I really liked the one that incorporated all of the 70s rock music, I thought it was quite unique.”

He finds the notebook and passes it over to Sirius.

“That's my favourite one,” Sirius says. 

Remus chuckles softly. “It’s ambitious,” he says, watching Sirius thumb through his notes. “But I think it could work. The kids would love it, and the parents would probably eat it up too.”

“When should we start auditions?” Sirius asks, his enthusiasm practically contagious. He interrupts himself with, “ooo I like the idea of using Starman when the angel tells Mary about the baby.”

“I can work on getting letters sent out to parents over the next few days. Does next Wednesday work?” Remus offers.

Sirius looks up, clearly disapproving. “That's ages away. Why don’t we just do them this lunch?”

Remus blinks at Sirius, “we can’t just do it without warning Sirius. They need time to practice.”

Sirius waves a dismissive hand, “Why bother? Half the fun is seeing what they come up with on the spot.”

Remus tilts his head, giving Sirius a skeptical look. “I don’t think so. Let me speak to Minerva and I’ll try and get it sorted.”

Sirius groans dramatically, “fine.”

But he should’ve known that Sirius would never listen to him. 

It happens after break time. Remus has finally calmed the class down after their playground antics to get started on maths. They’re counting money today, which is honestly quite a taxing task. Children really struggle to tell apart fifty and twenty pence. 

Sirius is sitting in the back corner like usual, but he looks restless, spinning around on his chair and distracting the children. 

Remus shoots him a look, a sharp what the fuck are you doing glare. But Sirius ignores it and carries on. 

He’s trying to explain to Matilda that no, twenty pence add twenty pence is not two thousand and twenty pence, when Sirius gets up.

“Who wants to start the Nativity?” He asks the class. 

The class starts to cheer, a few screams of “ME!” and a few start to celebrate. 

“Sirius, what are you doing?” Remus asks in a hushed voice. He turns to the class and says “everyone calm down. Sit back down Megan.”

Sirius turns to Remus with an innocent grin that doesn’t fool him for a second. “What does it look like? 

Remus pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to summon every ounce of patience he has left. “We agreed we’d wait. I haven’t even spoken to Minerva yet.”

Sirius shrugs, completely unfazed. “Look at how excited they all are.”

Remus looks around at the class. A sea of eager, wide-eyed faces is gazing back at him. Some are bouncing in their seats, others waving hands frantically in the air. Even the usually reserved students seem caught up in the excitement.

He takes a deep breath, trying to temper his frustration. “Fine.” He lowers his voice and mutters, “fuck you.” 

There's a small gasp. “Mr Loops said a bad word!” 

It takes Sirius a good twenty minutes to stop laughing. 

So that's how he finds himself sitting at a table in the main hall with Sirius beside him and a notepad and pen in front of him. Currently, one of the children from James’ class is spinning on his head, or at least attempting to, to a Pitbull song. 

“That was brilliant Max!” Sirius tells the boy, clapping frantically. 

Remus, still slightly shell-shocked, stares at the boy in disbelief. Max crashes to the floor after his attempt, grinning proudly.

When Remus doesn’t start clapping, Sirius nudges him with his elbow. Hesitantly, Remus begins clapping along with him. 

“Do I get to go through to the next round?” Max asks excitedly, practically bouncing on the spot. “Please please pleaseeee.”

“There isn’t a next round–” Remus starts. 

“Of course!” Sirius interjects. 

Max excitedly wanders off to the ‘stage door’ which is just the door to the hall. They’ve employed James and Lily to organise the queue of people wanting to audition outside of the hall, so they send somebody else straight in. 

“You could at least try to be enthusiastic” Sirius whispers to Remus with a teasing smile.

“I am trying! Some of them are just leaving me speechless. I never, ever thought I’d have to experience watching someone head shuffle around on the floor to hotel room service by Pitbull.” Remus says. “This feels like a fever dream.”

Sirius chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “I told you it would be entertaining.”

“I’m not sure ‘entertaining’ is the word for it.”

Poppy from year one is now standing before them, wearing a sweet little tutu. 

“Hello Poppy” Remus smiles, “what are you doing for us today?”

“Singing” she tells them in a quiet, nervous voice. 

“That’s lovely” He tells her. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Poppy takes a deep breath and begins to sing

“ You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. ”

Remus tenses, his breath hitching for a moment, not because Poppy is a bad singer—if anything, it’s the opposite. Her little voice is clear and full of innocence, but the song itself stirs memories that he’d been trying his best to forget. 

It’s the song that his mum would sing softly to him to help him sleep, her voice soothing, her fingers absentmindedly running through his hair as she held him close. It was their song, one that he grew up with, one that he’ll always associate with her – a tender reminder of the motherly love she always gave him.

He swallows hard, his eyes momentarily distant.

He doesn’t register the rest of the song until Poppy is singing the final lines. 

“ You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away. ”

“That was lovely Poppy” Sirius tells her, his voice warm with genuine admiration.

Remus blinks, remembering where he is. He feels a lump in his throat, one that makes him feel sick. 

“Thank you,” he manages to say, his voice quieter than usual. He offers Poppy a small smile, which she returns shyly before skipping off the ‘stage.’

Sirius is looking at him, but Remus refuses to meet his eye. 

“I just– I’m going to refill my coffee.” 

He doesn’t give Sirius a chance to say anything, quickly getting up and leaving the hall. 

He rounds a corner and leans against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment. The lump in his throat hasn’t eased, and his chest feels tight. His fingers brush against the wall, grounding him as he breathes deeply.

Fuck . He thought he was doing better, thought he had a better grip on things. He’d gotten so good at pretending, putting on a smile and acting as if he’s completely okay. 

He’s doing his best not to cry, not to break. But everything he’s been pushing down over the last few months just comes up in tidal waves, completely destroying the carefully built walls inside him.

“Remus,” a familiar voice breaks the silence softly, pulling him back to the present.

Sirius. Of course it’s Sirius.

Remus doesn’t turn immediately, his head bowed as he takes a few more deep breaths. “I’m okay,” He assures him. “I just need a minute.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sirius asks carefully. He leans against the opposite wall, watching with a quiet understanding.

Remus doesn’t know. He’s never spoken to anyone about it before. He’s never had anybody that he feels comfortable enough with to speak to about it. 

“My parents passed away almost two years ago.” Remus explains.

It had been the worst month of his life. The beginning of December had been gruelling, a bad breakup and mental health struggles. But what kept him going was the promise of Christmas at home with his parents, reuniting with them after months apart for their favourite time of year. 

They’d always been a festive family. His parents always went out of the way to make the holidays special for him, every single year without doubt. They’d cook together, decorate together, wear matching pajamas and sip on Baileys hot chocolates as they opened presents. 

It was his favorite time of year.

Until it wasn’t.

Christmas now consists of him barely holding it together, doing his best to make it through the period without breaking down. He doesn’t celebrate, he can’t bring himself to do it alone. He doesn’t have anybody else, no other family, no close friends. 

He puts on a smile at work Christmas parties and avoids talking about Christmas plans and activities, doing his best to ignore the way that his heart aches at even the mention of the holiday. 

“That song just brought back some memories.” He continues, doing his best to dull it down, acting as if it’s nothing. “I’m okay though.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says softly. “I can’t imagine what that feels like.”

Remus lets out a choked sound “it’s just a lot at this time of year. It’s not even December yet and I’m a mess.”

Sirius frowns “I’m sorry. I’ve been the one pressuring you about this nativity.”

Remus shakes his head quickly, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t know. No one knows”

“No one?” Sirius asks, concern etched onto his face. 

Remus exhales slowly, glancing down at the floor. “No one.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Sirius's voice is quiet but filled with sincerity. “I’m sorry if I’m over eager sometimes. I just– growing up I was never allowed to be excited about Christmas. It was all quite a sordid affair, no music or presents. I dreaded it every year. So when Reg and I finally got out of that house and moved in with James and his parents, it was the first time we ever got to experience a real Christmas. I understand how hard it is to start loving something that brings up so many bad memories.” 

Remus looks up, their eyes meeting. 

“I want to start loving it again. I know that they’d hate to see me like this, but I just– I can’t.”

Sirius holds his gaze. “I could– I can help you. If you’d like.”

Remus blinks, the offer catching him off guard. He studies Sirius's face, searching for any trace of pity, but finds none. Instead, there’s something steady in his expression—a quiet determination, maybe even hope.

“How?” He asks. 

Sirius smiles, a warm one that makes him feel as if he can finally breathe again. “When James was teaching Reg and I how to love Christmas, he took us to do all of his favourite things. We watched his favourite films and went to the Christmas markets. It isn’t something that you need to do alone… sometimes it’s a little easier to have somebody there to distract you.”

Remus listens, chewing at his bottom lip. 

“Okay.” He agrees. “That sounds… really nice.”

Sirius’s smile widens, soft and genuine. “Are you ready to head back in? Jack Richards is getting ready to rap for us.”

He laughs despite himself, pushing off against the wall. “What a treat.”

Sirius chuckles, falling into step beside him as they make their way back toward the main hall.

Remus can’t help but feel a little lighter as he takes his seat back at the table, ready for the rest of the auditions. 

Chapter Text

Sirius is determined to help Remus love Christmas again.

After their conversation—after seeing Remus like that—he wants to do everything in his power to help Remus see the beauty in Christmas again. Just like James had helped him and Regulus ten years ago.

He starts small. They listen to Christmas music at lunchtime as they sit and plan the nativity the day after auditions. They go through their notes, assigning the students to different parts, making sure that everyone has the roles they’d like.

At one point, Remus starts to hum along to ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham. Sirius doesn’t say anything, pretending he hadn’t even acknowledged it. But he can’t help but smile as he looks down. One small step at a time.

“The angel could have a Bowie lightning bolt,” Sirius suggests.

Remus laughs, writing the idea down. “You can be in charge of face painting then.”

“Only if you organise stage cues.” Sirius bargains. 

“Fine. But you have to do the opening speech.” 

Sirius rolls his eyes playfully. “If it makes you happy then I’ll do it.”

He doesn’t miss the way that Remus’ cheeks flush. 

The planning takes a week or so, leading them into early December. This leads into Sirius’ next plan, the Christmasification of their classroom. 

He propositions Remus on Thursday afternoon. 

“Are you busy tomorrow after school?” He asks him, leaning against one of the display boards in an attempt to seem casual. 

“I thought we were going to the Marauder again?” Remus says, looking up from the work that he’s marking on his desk. 

“Before that.” Sirius corrects himself, “I was thinking about staying for a few hours to decorate the classroom, so that they can all come back to it fully decked out on Monday.”

Remus smiles. “I’ll be there.” 

So Sirius goes out and buys a bunch of decorations that evening. He gets a small tree, tinsel, lights, and those snowflake stickers for the windows.

Remus’ jaw drops when he brings it all into the classroom after the students have left, having stored it in the boot of James’ car.

“Sirius, this must’ve cost a fortune.” Remus says, shaking his head in disbelief as he takes in the sheer volume of decorations. “You didn’t have to do all this. The school has decorations.”

Sirius waves a dismissive hand, grinning. “I wanted to. The school's decorations are all old and falling apart anyway.”

Remus huffs a laugh, crossing his arms as he watches Sirius start unloading the bags. “Still… It's a lot. Can I at least send you some money for them?”

“No way,” Sirius insists. “This is my festive good deed. Consider it my present to the class.”

Remus shakes his head, though a small, reluctant smile tugs at his lips. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Sirius winks. “I’ve been called worse. Make yourself useful and get us two hot chocolates from the staffroom.”

Rolling his eyes but unable to hide his amusement, Remus heads off toward the staffroom. Sirius watches him go, his smile softening as he turns back to the pile of decorations.

They listen to music and drink hot chocolate whilst they wrestle with the lights and stand on chairs to hang things from the ceiling. It takes way longer than expected, but there isn’t a second when either Remus or Sirius aren’t smiling or laughing. 

Sirius’ heart feels so full. 

“Do you want to do the honours?” Sirius asks, holding the small gold star for the top of the tree.

“You’re the one that organised all of this” Remus counters. “You should do it, you’re the one with the star name.”

“But I want you to do it” He argues, trying to push the star into Remus’ hands. “Please.”

Remus huffs, still smiling. He takes it, but it doesn’t leave Sirius’ hands. “We can do it together.” 

Their hands brush as they guide it into place, the gold catching the warm glow of the string lights. When it’s finally perched securely, they step back to admire their work.

The classroom is transformed. The lights strung across the ceiling cast a soft glow, the tinsel sparkles on every available surface, and the tree stands proudly in the corner, its ornaments gleaming. It’s everything Sirius wanted it to be. He knows that the children are going to go bonkers for it on Monday.

For a moment, they just stand there, the room bathed in warm light, the faint strains of music playing in the background. Sirius can’t remember the last time he felt this content, and judging by the relaxed expression on Remus’s face, he feels it too.

“Thank you for this” Remus says, his voice quiet. “I haven’t enjoyed myself that much in a long time.”

Sirius turns to Remus, his heart swelling at his words. “You’re welcome.”

Although they’re making progress, there have been times when it gets too much for Remus, or he doesn’t quite feel ready. Sometimes he’ll ask Sirius to skip a certain song, or he’ll ask him to turn the music off all together. 

But progress is linear, it isn’t straightforward and sometimes you go backwards. 

Sirius learns to read the signs. He notices the subtle ways Remus's shoulders tense or how his fingers fidget with the hem of his jumper. He never pries, but he’s always there when Remus does want to talk. 

He struggles to believe that he’s only known Remus for a month. Perhaps it’s the sheer amount of time that they spend together or the way that Remus makes Sirius feel so comfortable. But he feels as if he’s known him for years. 

His feelings are far more than just attraction now. He yearns for Remus. He spends the weekends wishing for it to be Monday again, just so that he can see him. He finds himself thinking about the other man constantly, always looking out for things that he’ll like, things to talk to him about. 

It’s intense, especially because he has no indication that Remus feels the same way at all. But sometimes, just sometimes, he catches Remus glancing at him from across the room, an unreadable look in his eye, and he sees that as hope–a chance. 

Nativity rehearsals become a biweekly occurrence, something else that Sirius spends his time looking forward to. He spent hours writing scripts and printing them out for each of the kids. Hours helping them learn the songs. Hours laughing at Remus trying to teach them how to dance. 

After rehearsals one week, Sirius and Remus are cleaning up the main hall, putting away props and chairs, and folding the stage back up. They’re both exhausted after having to go over multiple dance numbers multiple times. They’re running off of caffeine and adrenaline, but he’s sure that as soon as he’s home he’ll crash. 

“I um–” Remus says into the comfortable silence. “I was thinking of going to the Christmas markets this weekend. Do you–er–do you want to come with me?”

Sirius turns to Remus. For a moment, he just looks at him, processing what was just asked.

“You… want me to come?” he asks, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Remus shifts on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, I mean, if you want to. It’s just—” He hesitates, then finishes softly. “When I’m with you I kind of…forget to be sad…do you know what I mean?”

Sirius nods, knowingly. There would be times that James would make him laugh so hard that he’d forget why he was upset in the first place. It’s as if James radiates so much happiness that it’s impossible to be sad around him. 

“I know what you mean. Of course I’ll come.”

Remus smiles bashfully, making Sirius’ heart leap. “Okay. Cool.”

So Saturday finds him standing by the huge Christmas tree–wrapped up in a coat, scarf and gloves–waiting for Remus. He’s early, because he’s spent the whole day waiting for it to be five pm and he didn’t have it in himself to wait any longer. 

He grins when he sees Remus walking over, also wrapped up to keep warm. 

“Hi,” Remus smiles. “How are you?”

“Freezing and in desperate need of a mulled wine” Sirius says, “I’ve also been eyeing the yorkshire pudding wraps.”

Remus laughs. “Let's get you a mulled wine then.”

They head to the bar, sitting at a table close to a fireplace and sipping on their mulled wines. Remus insisted on paying, despite Sirius’ reluctance. But after he’d refused Remus’ money for the decorations, he knew that he didn’t have much bargaining room. There's faint music playing in the background which is overpowered by the chatter of other tables. 

Sirius is short for breath when Remus takes off his coat and reveals a burgundy jumper underneath which fits him perfectly. He’s used to the baggy and oversized ones that Remus wears at school. This is different, especially because it’s paired with the cold flush of his cheeks and the orange glow of the fireplace. 

He looks fucking ridiculous. Insane. Good enough to render Sirius unable to look anywhere but at the man sat across from him. 

“You alright?” Remus asks, his brow furrowing slightly as he takes another sip of mulled wine.

“Hmm?” Sirius blinks, realising he’s been staring. He quickly looks down at his own drink, swirling the rich, spiced liquid in the cup. “Yeah, yeah. Just… this is good. The wine. Perfect. It tastes really good. Very, erm, warm and red.”

Remus raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It is,” he agrees. 

Sirius groans inwardly, lifting the mug to his lips to hide his face. Warm and red? What kind of idiot says that? He chances another glance at Remus, who’s still watching him with that faintly amused expression, his lips quirking around the rim of his own cup.

To ease the tension, he says the only thing that comes to mind, “I’ve been thinking about getting into pottery.”

Remus raises an eyebrow, setting his mug down on the table. “Pottery?”

“Yeah,” Sirius says, fully committing now, even though he has no idea where this came from. “You know, like… making vases and mugs and stuff. I think I’d be good at it.”

Remus tilts his head, clearly amused. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius says, waving a hand vaguely. “I’ve got… steady hands.”

A look crosses Remus’ face, one that Sirius cannot quite seem to understand. “Steady hands?” he murmurs, his voice lower, with a teasing edge. “I suppose steady hands would be… useful.”

Sirius blinks, his brain grinding to a halt at the shift in Remus’s tone. “Uh, yeah,” he stammers, feeling a flush crawl up his neck. “For, you know, pottery. Mugs and—vases…”

“Vases,” Remus repeats, his lips curving into something decidedly wicked. “Right.”

Sirius has never actually considered pottery before. But now, he just might. 

After they’ve finished their mulled wine, they wander around the different markets, chatting about everything and nothing at the same time. 

Sirius drags Remus to a stall selling wooly hats to buy James a particularly ugly reindeer hat which he and Remus find particularly amusing because although it’s ugly, they both know that James will absolutely adore it. 

Afterwards, they stop at a stall selling handmade ornaments, and Remus picks up a delicate glass snowflake. He turns it over in his hands, the soft curve of a smile forming on his lips.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

Sirius watches him, his chest aching with something he can’t quite name. “You should get it,” he says, his voice quieter than usual.

Remus hesitates, then places it back on the display. “Maybe. Let’s keep looking.”

Sirius doesn’t press, but as they move on, he makes a mental note of the stall’s location.

They continue walking, stopping at a few different stalls until they finally end up at the food truck selling yorkshire pudding wraps. They both get one–Sirius doesn’t give Remus much of a choice, telling him that there is nothing else that will be anywhere near as good so he just needs to get one.

“Oh fuck” Remus mumbles whilst they’re waiting for their order number to be called. He looks visibly panicked, stepping back as if to shield himself behind Sirius. 

“What?” Sirius panics alongside him.

“Ex boyfriend. Twelve o'clock.” Remus whispers.

Sirius’ head jolts up, both at the confirmation that Remus really does like men, and the fact that his ex boyfriend is actively approaching them, an annoyingly large smile on his face. 

“Remus. Hi.” The man grins, reaching a hand out. 

Remus shakes it begrudgingly, not bothering to force a smile. “Fabian.”

Fabian doesn’t acknowledge Sirius. If anything, he is purposely angling himself in a way that turns his back to Sirius in an attempt to remove him from the conversation. 

“How have you been?” The red headed man asks. 

“I’ve been fine. Busy.” Remus tells him. 

He seems to notice the way that Sirius is being left out of the conversation and he moves to the side slightly so that Sirius can step closer to him, no longer shielded away by Fabian. 

Forced to now acknowledge him. Fabian looks to him and asks, “whose this?”

“Sirius Black” He answers, not bothering to extend a hand in greeting. “Nice to meet you, Favian.”

“Fabian” Fabian corrects. 

“Oh right” Sirius nods. 

Remus stifles a snort, clearly caught between amusement and mortification as Fabian’s smile tightens. Sirius doesn’t miss the slight narrowing of his eyes, the way Fabian sizes him up.

“Fifty two!” The woman shouts from the truck, holding their order out. 

“That's us!” Sirius grins, thankful for her timing. “Lovely to meet you Favian but we better be off.”

Sirius grabs their order with one hand while lightly nudging Remus with the other, steering him away from Fabian without giving the man a chance to protest.

Once they’re a safe distance away, Sirius turns to Remus, who is biting his lip, clearly holding back laughter.

“Thank you for that.” Remus says. 

Sirius grins, “no need to thank me. He seemed like a right knobhead.”

Remus snorts, finally letting out the laughter he had been holding back. “You’re not wrong. The bastard dumped me a week after my parents died because he ‘couldn’t handle it’ .”

Sirius freezes for a moment, his mouth falling open. “Now I wish I’d done worse. Should we go back so that I can throw my yorkshire at him?”

Remus grins “that would be a waste of good, and expensive, food.” 

“I’m sorry that he did that to you.” Sirius says, voice laced with sincerity. 

The other man just shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong, it fucking sucked at the time, but we both knew it wasn’t going to work out. It’s just a shame his timing was so poor.”

Sirius nods, his expression softening. “Well, I’m glad that you’re rid of that tosser. You deserve much better.”

Remus glances at him. “Yeah. I’m starting to think that I do.”

They eat their wraps whilst sitting by the huge Christmas tree. Sirius thinks that it’s far better than any food he’s eaten before, that's including the many five star restaurants his parents dragged him to when he was younger. Remus seems to enjoy his as well which makes Sirius happy. Remus’ enjoyment feels more important to him than his own. 

Even after finishing their wraps, they stay seated on the steps, the quiet hum of the Christmas market around them fading into the background. The soft strains of All You Need is Love by The Beatles play from a nearby speaker, echoing in the cool air.

“This song reminds me of Love Actually” Sirius says as a flippant remark. 

Remus looks over at him, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve never watched it.”

Sirius gasps dramatically. “You’re kidding me.”

Remus shakes his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Nope. Never seen it.”

Sirius stands abruptly, brushing himself off as he does. Remus watches him curiously, a flicker of panic crossing his face.

“Where are you—” Remus begins, but Sirius cuts him off with a raised hand.

“Come on,” Sirius says, offering his hand to help Remus up. “We’re going back to mine to watch it right now.”

Remus blinks in surprise, still sitting on the steps as Sirius pulls him up by the hand. "Right now?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yep," Sirius grins, leading him away from the Christmas market. "No arguments, we're doing this. I cannot let you continue without watching Love Actually."

And that's how Sirius Black ends up with Remus Lupin in his house, sitting on his sofa, sharing a blanket and sipping on hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. 

It’s like a wet dream. 

Like everybody else, Remus is absolutely appalled when Harry gives the necklace to his secretary rather than his wife. He curses him out under his breath and Sirius is sure he sees his eyes start to glisten as Karen breaks down in her bedroom as she listens to her Joni Mitchell CD. 

He’s grinning ear to ear as Jamie proposes to Aurelia—expressing that they’re definitely his favourites—and they’re both rooting for Sam as he runs through the airport for Joanna. 

In the final montage, the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport, Sirius chances one more glance over at Remus to see that he’s crying. He’s looking away, trying to hide it, but Sirius can see the tears falling silently down his face.

“Remus,” Sirius says softly, his voice barely above a whisper, edging closer to him.

“Sorry,” Remus murmurs, wiping quickly at his cheeks. “I’m being silly.”

Sirius squeezes his arm gently in response. “You’re not being silly. I promise.” 

“I loved the movie. I promise.” He laughs awkwardly, wiping his cheeks again. “I just—It’s hit me that I don’t have anybody to pick me up from Heathrow Airport.” 

Sirius doesn’t need to think about it. Not a second thought. 

“I’d pick you up.” 

The words hang in the air, quiet but firm. Sirius watches as Remus's breath hitches slightly, his gaze flickering between Sirius’s eyes and his lips. The distance between them feels almost negligible now—just a breath, maybe two.

Remus’s lips part slightly, as if he’s about to speak again, but no sound comes. Instead, he lets out a shaky breath, a soft chuckle that feels more vulnerable than awkward this time.

“Of course I would. I’d even bring an ugly sign and balloons just to embarrass you.” Sirius carries on. “It’s really important to me that you believe me when I say that.”

Remus looks at him, his eyes studying Sirius’ face. “I believe you.”

“Good.” Sirius smiles warmly, his thumb brushing away the final tear from Remus’s cheek in a tender motion.

The touch lingers just a moment too long. It feels as if his heart stops. His grey eyes meet Remus’ warm brown ones and any words die in his throat, left unsaid, because he’s completely gone, completely lost in them.

But what makes him feel as if his heart might never beat normally again, is the way that Remus’ gaze drops down to his lips, slowly travelling back up to his eyes again.

As if to test the waters, he leans forward just a fraction. He’s relieved when Remus too shifts to move closer, their breaths mingling, the distance between them shrinking until it’s only a whisper away. 

Every heartbeat seems to echo louder, each second stretching into an eternity, their lips so close yet so far. He’s having a hard time believing that this is even real, feeling as if he needs to pinch himself to wake up from whatever dream this is. 

But before they can close the distance completely, the doorbell rings again—sharp, sudden, and jarring.

Sirius pulls back with a soft exhale, his breath uneven, his fingers brushing through his hair as if trying to steady himself as he stands up. “I’ll just–I’ll get that.”

Before he can fully step away, the door swings open, revealing James standing there with a grin so wide it’s almost obnoxious. 

The bell was clearly a warning of his arrival, not his way of asking for permission to come in. He regrets giving him a key more than ever at this moment. 

“Hey, Pads!” James beams, stepping inside. “Remus! What’s up? What are you guys watching? Love actually? This is my favourite, did Pads tell you? Can I join?”

Sirius scowls at James as he continues to ramble, completely ignorant of any social cues that he is not welcome. He wonders where the fuck his brother is and why he’s let James out of his sight. 

“I’m about to head out actually” Remus says, getting up from the sofa. 

Sirius hesitates, his lips parting as if to argue, but the words don’t come. 

“Okay.” Is all he can think to say. 

Remus gathers his coat, slipping it on slowly, his movements measured. The space between them feels stretched, every moment that passes heavier than the last. James is just stood there like a fucking idiot, chatting away, completely unaware. 

“I’ll see you both on Monday.” Remus says, offering a gentle smile. 

Sirius watches him leave, gutted and confused. His lips feel as if they’re tingling from the loss of what they hadn’t gotten to experience. 

As soon as the door is closed, he turns on James and smacks him right over the top of the head. 

“You fucking idiot.”

Chapter Text

Remus doesn’t mention the almost kiss. Sirius doesn’t mention the almost kiss. They don’t mention it, they ignore it, they pretend as if they’re both oblivious to what almost happened. 

Remus Lupin can't tell if he likes it or not. 

A small, quiet part of him wants it. He wants to talk about it, to stop ignoring it, to acknowledge that it almost happened. And then he wants to make it happen, wants to close the gap and kiss Sirius properly, kiss him until they cannot breathe, until there’s no room for doubt or hesitation left between them.

But a larger, much louder and obnoxious part of him doesn’t. He’s happy to pretend that nothing had happened, to continue as normal, as friends and colleagues. He wants to keep things simple and uncomplicated. He doesn’t like being vulnerable and he doesn’t like how easy it is for him to be vulnerable around Sirius. 

He never talks about his parents, he never cries around other people, he never expresses how he feels. But Sirius Black has somehow waltzed into his life and changed this. He’s seen Remus cry, they’ve had difficult conversations about his parents, he’s seen Remus vulnerable and emotional. Within a month he has seen more of Remus than anyone else. 

It’s terrifying. 

And then there’s the doubt—the gnawing, relentless voice in his head that whispers that it wasn’t real, just a spur of the moment slip up that Sirius will regret. They were emotional and vulnerable and perhaps Sirius wasn’t thinking straight, getting caught up in the intimate moment between them. Or maybe it was just pity, trying to make him feel better in some misguided way.

So yes, as much as Remus would love to kiss Sirius—and much, much more—he pushes it all down. The doubt and the fear outweigh the desire and the need.

He doesn’t let himself want too much. Because wanting too much—expecting too much—only leads to disappointment. He’s learned that lesson before, over and over again.

Remus has a hard time believing that anyone would want to kiss him. Maybe it’s the self-loathing, maybe it’s the shitty ex-boyfriends who’ve left him doubting his worth, but he can’t fathom what someone like Sirius Black—bright, brilliant Sirius Black—would see in him.

So he lets the silence win. They don’t discuss it and Remus is fine with that. It’s like the moment never existed at all. And maybe that’s for the best.

But every time Sirius flashes him that grin or brushes their fingers together when he hands him a cup of tea, it makes Remus feel like he’s drowning all over again.

They’re starting dress rehearsals this week, with the play very quickly approaching. Sirius has started a countdown in their classroom which the children excitedly chatter about every morning when they come in and there is one less day to wait. 

Seven days until the Nativity. Seven more days until the hall fills up with parents and teachers. Seven more days until they’re backstage helping the children get ready. Seven more days until the children get on stage to perform. Seven more days of preparing this with Sirius. Seven more days and it’ll be over. 

For somebody so reluctant to do the Nativity in the first place, he feels himself cursing at the clocks for continuing to tick, for letting the time pass so quickly. 

Because he’s worried that after this Nativity, things between him and Sirius will change.

After the holidays, Sirius will be taking Pandora’s year one class from her. She’s leaving to go travelling, her space as a full time teacher open. 

Sirius had come into his classroom last week grinning after Minerva had offered him the job. Of course Remus congratulated him, telling him that he deserves it and how great of a teacher he is. But a selfish part of him was gutted that Sirius won’t be with him in their classroom again. 

They won’t have the Nativity tying them together anymore and Sirius will be so busy with his own class that he might not have time for Remus anymore. No more break time conversations or lunchtime walks. 

Things are going to change and Remus isn’t sure if he’s ready for it. 

“Mr Lupin, I'm stuck in this costume.” Is what snaps him out of his daze. 

He looks down at Charlie who has somehow managed to tangle himself in the king costume, one arm poked through the neck hole and the other through the opposite arm hole. 

He represses a laugh because Charlie looks a little distressed. 

"Alright, Charlie," Remus says, kneeling down to untangle the boy. He gently guides Charlie’s arm out of the neck hole and adjusts the costume with a practiced ease. “There we go, good as new. Now let’s try putting it on the right way this time.”

Charlie grins up at him, his earlier distress replaced with a beaming smile. “Thanks, Mr. Lupin! You’re the best.”

As Charlie scurries off to rejoin the other children, Remus leans back on his heels, glancing across the chaotic classroom. Costumes and props are scattered everywhere, the sound of children rehearsing their lines and laughing filling the space. It’s mayhem, but it’s the sort of mayhem he’s come to love.

And then there’s Sirius, sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by a group of kids, holding a shepherd’s crook and dramatically acting out one of the lines from the play. The children are in fits of laughter, and Sirius looks completely in his element—his hair slightly mussed, his face animated, his laugh infectious.

Remus lets himself watch for a moment, the noise of the room fading into the background. Sirius catches his eye and winks, a small, playful gesture that sends a flutter through Remus’s chest despite his best efforts to ignore it.

He quickly busies himself with tidying up the nearby props table, trying to shake the thoughts that have been plaguing him for weeks now. Seven more days.

The dress rehearsal goes brilliantly. Better than he’d expected. If you’d have told him a month ago that they’d somehow managed to get thirty children to sing in tune and nail some dance choreo, he’d have laughed in your face. 

But now, he watches proudly as the children all sing the last song, ‘All you need it love’ by the Beatles—one that Sirius had decided needed to be in the play whilst they’d been watching love actually the other week— both in tune and with all of the right lyrics. 

“That was great everyone!” Sirius grins, giving them a round of applause. Remus joins in and all of the children do too. “I’ve left some snacks for you all in the classroom, make sure you grab one on your way out. See you all on Monday.”

The hall empties and the two of them begin tidying up. 

“Slytherins Nativity is tonight,” Sirius says. 

Remus looks up from where he’s folding a stray angel’s robe. He raises an eyebrow because he knows that there is more coming. 

“I think we should go,” Sirius carries on. “See what we’re competing with.”

“Are you sure?” Remus asks. He knows that Sirius wants to one up Snape, but going back to the school and being around the people that treated him so horribly seems like a bad idea. 

Sirius nods. “We can stay near the back and slip out before it finishes. It’s just– I want to see it.” He then smirks a little, “I promise I won’t cause any drama.”

Remus grins. “Bitch slapping Severus again is prohibited.” 

“Where's the fun in that?” Sirius complains. 

They meet outside of Slytherin primary school at 6pm that evening. Sirius is already there when Remus gets there, but he’s standing out of sight, presumably away from ex colleagues and students. 

“Ready?” Remus asks him as they approach the door. 

“I really hope this is shit” Sirius mumbles, keeping his head down. 

“It won’t be as good as ours, I’m sure.” Remus assures him. 

The stage is already set—extravagantly, of course. Velvet curtains embroidered with gold stars frame a shimmering backdrop, and the children are clad in immaculate costumes that look like they’ve been tailored by Madam Malkin herself.

“Bit much, don’t you think?” Sirius mutters, his voice low as they settle into chairs near the back.

The play begins, and to their credit, the children are excellent. Their lines are polished, their performances crisp, and the music—played by a small orchestra of students—flows seamlessly. It’s professional and flawless, a stark contrast to the fun and charming play. 

As the play draws to a close with a grand, overly rehearsed rendition of Hark! The Herald Angels Sing , Sirius finally turns to him. “Alright, I’ve seen enough. Let’s go.”

Remus nods, and together they slip out of the hall before the applause has even died down.

“That was… something,” Sirius says finally, his tone lighter now.

Remus chuckles. “You mean unnecessarily elaborate?”

“Exactly.” Sirius smirks, then bumps his shoulder against Remus’s as they walk. “Ours is better, though.”

Remus hums thoughtfully. “Ours has heart.”

“And The Beatles. ” Sirius grins.

They walk in comfortable silence for a few moments. “I’m excited for the staff party tomorrow.” Sirius says. 

Remus hums in agreement. “Minerva always goes all out. But make sure you get a fair few drinks out of the tab before Hagrid starts drinking. I don’t know how he does it but he needs at least ten to get even remotely buzzed.”

Sirius laughs, his breath visible in the crisp night air. “Ten drinks just to feel buzzed ? I’m both impressed and slightly terrified.”

“He is a very large man. Maybe that's why.” Remus suggests. “Mary will also hog the karaoke machine, just a forewarning. Last year we had to get Lily to distract her so that other people could use it.”

Sirius’s jaw drops in mock disbelief. “There’s karaoke?!”

Remus nods, already regretting saying anything. Sirius’s grin is positively devious. “So, are you going to sing us a song?”

“Absolutely not,” Remus replies firmly, rolling his eyes.

Sirius pouts, but Remus is unyielding. “No. Nothing you say or do could possibly make me sing.”

Sirius raises a skeptical brow. “We’ll see about that.”

Fast forward twenty-seven hours, and Remus Lupin is standing on a makeshift stage in the corner of the bar, microphone in one hand and a double vodka coke in the other. He is halfway through Somebody to Love by Queen, and it’s a complete disaster.

He is absolutely hammered.

This was Sirius’ plan all along, he noticed too many drinks too late. All it took in the end was a charming grin and a proposition of rock, paper scissors, whoever loses has to sing karaoke. 

Naturally, Remus lost.

Now, Sirius, James, and even Regulus are belting the lyrics along with him from their table, entirely off-key and utterly unapologetic. Mary is gleefully recording the whole thing on her phone, while Lily is doubled over, laughing so hard she’s wiping tears from her eyes. Minerva, seated with Poppy, is fighting valiantly to maintain her composure, though even she can’t hide a faint smile. Poppy, meanwhile, claps enthusiastically after every verse like Remus is delivering the performance of a lifetime. Benji and Caradoc, unsurprisingly, are too busy flirting to notice much of anything. And Hagrid, true to form, is stationed at the bar, likely working on drink number ten.

When Remus finally stumbles off the stage—still humming the chorus under his breath—he nearly trips over his own feet. James catches his shoulder, steadying him with a grin. “That’s it, mate. You’re never living this down.”

Mary waves her phone triumphantly. “This is going to haunt you forever. Forever! ”

Too drunk to care, Remus just grins. He’ll hate himself for this tomorrow, but right now, he’s having fun.

Later, needing a break from the heat and the noise, Remus steps outside for some air. The cold bites at his cheeks, and his breath comes out in soft, visible puffs as he exhales. Sirius follows shortly after, his coat draped lazily over his shoulders, his cheeks still flushed from laughing.

“You alright?” Sirius asks, leaning against the wall beside him.

Remus nods, exhaling a visible puff of air. “Yeah. I’m having fun,” he admits, the warmth of the alcohol loosening his words. “I haven’t felt sad all night.”

Sirius looks at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Me too. Tonight’s been... really good.”

For a moment, they stand in comfortable silence, the hum of distant laughter and music filtering through the open door. Then, Remus speaks again, his voice quieter. “I think I might actually be starting to like Christmas again.”

Sirius turns to him fully, his expression softening. “Really?”

“Really,” Remus says, his words slow but certain.

Before he can register it, Sirius steps closer, wrapping his arms around Remus’ neck in a tight, fierce hug. Remus freezes for a moment, caught off guard, but then he relaxes, his own arms tentatively circling Sirius’ waist.

“You deserve to,” Sirius murmurs, his breath warm against Remus’s ear.

They stay in each other's arms for a moment longer. Remus feels comfortable, sinking into the hug enough that he can smell Sirius’ shampoo —clean and faintly citrusy—and the comfort of it makes his heart ache.

When they pull back, they’re still close together.

“It’s thanks to you.” Remus tells him. “You helped me see the happiness in it again. I couldn’t have done it without you– I wouldn’t have done it without you.”

Sirius smiles softly. “I’ve really enjoyed the last few weeks with you.”

That sentence is both beautiful and daunting because although it at first fills Remus’ heart with joy and makes him smile like an idiot, a feeling of finality hits him. Because there's six days left. 

Sirius must notice his face drop, a worried look crosses his face. “What's wrong?” 

“I’m sad that it’s all ending.” Remus admits, the words falling out before he can stop them.

Sirius frowns. “What's ending?”

“Us.” Remus says quietly.

Sirius freezes, his expression shifting into something unreadable as the words hang between them. Us . Remus hadn’t meant to say it quite like that—hadn’t even realised he was going to say anything at all—but it’s out now, raw and vulnerable in the cold night air.

“What do you mean?” Sirius asks, his voice quiet, careful.

Remus looks away, focusing on the soft crunch of gravel beneath his shoes. “The Nativity. This… this whole thing we’ve been doing together.”

Sirius blinks at him, as if trying to process what Remus is saying. “Is that… is that what you think? That when this is over, I’ll just disappear?”

Remus shrugs, his throat tight. “That’s how things usually go, isn’t it? People get busy, and things change.”

“Remus,” Sirius says, stepping closer again. His voice has that same soft, careful tone it had earlier—like he’s trying to pick apart the layers of Remus’s thoughts. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not moving on from you.”

Remus’s heart skips, and he swallows hard, his eyes darting up to meet Sirius’s. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“I do mean it,” Sirius insists. There’s a fierceness in his voice now, like he can’t believe Remus would doubt him. “I didn’t spend the last month laughing with you, working with you, being with you just to let it all end just because the play does. This hasn’t just been about the Nativity for me.”

Remus’s breath catches. The words feel too good, too hopeful, and he’s afraid to believe them. “What has it been about, then?” he asks softly.

Sirius doesn’t answer right away. He looks at Remus carefully, his dark eyes searching his face, like he’s making some final decision. “It’s been about you, Remus.”

The world feels like it’s tilted on its axis. Remus stares at him, unable to form words, unable to move. Sirius’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Remus feels completely undone—like Sirius has just reached inside him and pulled everything out into the open.

“I want to–” Sirius begins. 

But Mary pokes her head around the door at that moment, a wide grin on her face. 

“Sirius! You promised me a duet!” She reminds him. 

Sirius closes his mouth abruptly, the words he was about to say hanging unspoken in the air. For a moment, he doesn’t move, his gaze still fixed on Remus—almost as if he’s reluctant to let go of the moment. But then he shakes his head, forcing a grin as he turns toward Mary.

“What are we singing?”

Her eyes are practically sparkling, “Breaking Free from High School Musical!” 

Sirius sighs dramatically but throws a grin over his shoulder at Remus. “Are you coming?”

Remus nods, though he doesn’t trust himself to speak. His throat feels tight as he follows Mary and Sirius back inside, the warmth of the pub overwhelming him. 

Sirius is already making his way to the stage with Mary in tow, the two of them whispering conspiratorially as they grab their microphones. 

The opening chords of Breaking Free ring out through the pub, and Sirius steps forward, holding the mic with far more confidence than anyone singing a High School Musical song has any right to.

He’s ridiculous, of course. He belts out Troy Bolton’s lines like he’s performing at Wembley, his voice loud, unapologetic, and only just off-key. Mary, for her part, dives in as Gabriella with dramatic flair, twirling around Sirius like they’re in a staged production.

Remus knows he should be laughing, knows this is objectively the most absurd thing to witness, but all he can do is stare.

Because Sirius is beaming . His cheeks are flushed from the laughter and the alcohol, his dark hair is messy in the way that looks annoyingly perfect, and his eyes are sparkling—alive with so much joy that it’s almost impossible to look directly at him.

And that’s when it hits Remus.

It’s not a quiet realisation, or a gentle creeping of awareness. It’s sudden, sharp, and impossible to ignore: I’m in love with him.

The thought strikes him like a punch to the chest, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe.

Because of course he is. Of course he’s in love with Sirius. How could he not be? He’s impulsive, loyal, and utterly overwhelming in the way he throws himself into everything he cares about. He’s Sirius, and Remus has been hopelessly gone for him for longer than he’s willing to admit.

He’s down bad—fully, completely in love—and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

Remus is done for .

Chapter Text

Remus is acting strange. Sirius has noticed. 

He left the staff party early, and rather suddenly. He rushed his goodbyes and practically ran out of the bar door into the cold night. 

His mood seemed to have changed dramatically in the five minutes that Sirius had left him to sing with Mary. He seemed jittery and panicked, hardly able to look Sirius in the eye as quickly said his goodbye, not bothering to hug him or shake his hand. In fact, he looked somewhat deterred from doing anything of the sort.

It was strange after their conversation just minutes before. Remus had been happy and their words had been heartfelt and raw. Sirius felt as if they were truly getting somewhere and he’d planned to continue the conversation after his performance with Mary, but Remus was already half out of the door.

He thought that maybe he’d upset him, or scared him off. Was he too obvious in his feelings? Did he make it too obvious that he’s utterly in love with the other man? Did Remus pick up on it and run the second he’d realised? 

He spent the entirety of Sunday and Monday morning panicking, worrying and working himself up into a bit of a state. It didn’t help that he went without a text from Remus all day, which was unusual, usually they texted multiple times a day.

He thought that maybe things would be weird at work, that Remus would continue the silent treatment and act as if nothing had happened between them at all. No almost kiss and no almost love confession.

But something far stranger happened. 

Remus walked into the classroom on Monday morning, looked at Sirius and said “I want to do the speech before the show.”

Sirius’ jaw had dropped. 

He didn’t give Sirius a reason why, he just said that he’d like to do it and swiftly moved the conversation on, leaving Sirius sat at the desk in complete confusion. They don’t discuss their almost kiss, nor the words said at the party. Not because Sirius doesn’t want to but because Remus won’t give him the chance.

Remus doesn’t tell him anything about his speech, despite Sirius’ many attempts to try and coax it out of him. He simply avoids any conversation about his speech, or he smiles at Sirius in a way that makes him forget he’d even asked at all. 

Yeah, he’ll let this man get away with anything if he continues to smile at him like that. 

So the day arrives and Sirius and Remus are hard at work. Adrenaline curses through his body, he’s exhilarated, excited, nervous, scared, happy — all of the above. 

They have one final rehearsal at lunch time, which goes perfectly, perhaps even better than perfect. The children slip up and they make natural mistakes, but in a way, it makes the show better, it adds some personality and life. 

It’s not only show day but it’s the final day of term. The day requires no teaching whatsoever, it’s a day of pure play and fun. They watch films and they finger paint Christmas cards. Sirius watches Remus help George across the room and he feels as if his heart might burst as the man volunteers his own hand to be covered in paint because George doesn’t like it. 

In the staff room at lunch, Minerva surprises them all with Christmas picky bits and non alcoholic bubbles for them to toast with. She thanks them all for their hard work and doesn’t hesitate to mention her excitement for later. 

The hour before the show is pure chaos. Even with the help of Lily, Regulus, James and Mary, there is still far too much for them to get done in a calm and collected manner. 

Remus is consoling Jamie who's crying because he’s scared of forgetting his lines and Lily is painting the lighting bolt across Sam's face, for the fifth time because he keeps smudging it as he wipes his eyes. Regulus and James are on toilet breaks and snacks and Mary is doing the girls' hair. 

“Mr Black!” Melanie squeals, his eyes lined with tears. “I’ve lost my wings!”

Sirius is already one step ahead. “You haven’t. You left them over by the drinks table. Look.” 

She relaxes, a smile spreading across her face. “Thank you!” 

She dashes off to collect her glittery angel wings and rejoins her friends who are eating sandwiches in the corner. 

The show starts at five, so there isn’t long to go. The curtain is drawn and soon Lily, Mary, James and Regulus will join the audience where the rest of the teachers and parents will be waiting for them.

James surprised him by bringing Effie and Monty with him. They’re already sitting in the front row with programmes on their laps. 

“Mr Black” a small voice says, trembling slightly. 

He looks down and George is at his side. He bends down, so that he’s level with the boy. 

“What's wrong Georgie?” Sirius asks. 

George’s lip quivers slightly, his voice teary. “What if my mummy and daddy don’t come?”

Sirius feels his heart break slightly, ever so reminded of the shows that his parents had never showed up to in his youth. 

But, luckily, George's parents care far more than his own ever did. 

“Do you want to come with me? I can show you something.” He reaches a hand out and George takes it. 

He leads him to the stage wing, with a view of the audience. 

“Do you see them?” Sirius asks, pointing at George's parents who are sitting and chatting with his grandparents. “They’re right there.”

The relieved smile that breaks across the young boy's face is beautiful. “They’re here! They’re here! With Nanny and Grandad!” 

“Feeling better now?” Sirius asks. George nods. “Ready to give the show of a lifetime?” George nods again. “Come on, let's go.”

The last ten minutes before the show starts consists mostly of toilet breaks and getting the children into place behind the stage curtain. The others help until they need to dash off to their seats, after that it’s Sirius and Remus working together in tandem to get everything sorted. 

Sirius stays behind the curtain, calming nerves and reminding them all of the opening lines, as Remus steps away to begin his speech. 

Sirius smiles at him before he goes and says “goodluck.”

And Sirius doesn’t know what’s happened to Remus Lupin in the past week, but the man looks at him and smirks. “I don’t need it.”

He watches in awe as the man walks away to the front of the stage. 

“Hello everyone.” He hears Remus say. “Thank you all for coming tonight.”

“It’s no secret to you all that I wasn’t the happiest about being selected to plan the nativity this year.” Laughs chorus around the room, because yes, it was quite obvious. He can hear Remus laugh to himself too, a quiet, awkward sound. “I suppose you could say that I didn’t quite see the beauty in it all until we started the process and I got to see how happy it made each and everyone of these children.”

Sirius stands, making his way into the win so that he can see Remus. He leans against a wall, his heart racing, his eyes fixated on Remus. The other man is nervous, he can tell from the way that his foot is tapping slightly and he keeps chewing at his lower lip. 

“They’ve all worked extremely hard over the past month to create this performance for you all. We’ve had tears and panics — mostly from Mr Black and I.” Another wave of laughs fill the room. “But we’ve also laughed so much and danced until our feet hurt.”

Sirius smiles from the stands. Remus looks over to him, and he can see the man take a deep breath. 

“I won’t pretend that I was the mastermind behind all of this. If I had it my way we’d have been doing a bog standard Nativity with last year's costumes and props.” He takes another, deeper breath. “Mr. Black was the one that brought the magic to this production. He poured his heart into every detail—the set, the costumes, even the glitter on the angel wings. Without him, this play wouldn’t be half as good, or as fun .”

He can see James and Regulus in the front row, both looking up at Remus with such loving smiles and knowing looks.

“The children adore him, and quite frankly, so do I.” Remus says, and Sirius’ breath catches in his throat, a small gasp sounding out. 

Remus looks at him, and their eyes meet. It’s as if there isn’t a hall full of parents and teachers or a stage full of children just buzzing to start their performance. The other man smiles, a smile that makes Sirius’ knees feel weak. 

I adore you too , he wants to shout. He wants the world to know that he adores Remus Lupin. 

But for now, all that he can do is smile back. 

“Is it time for my line yet?” A small voice sounds out from the other side of the curtain. There's sounds of other children shushing him and parents laughing. 

Remus looks away, a grin spreading across his face. “And on that note, I think it’s time I stop rambling on and we let the real stars of the show take over.”

The audience erupts into applause, and Remus steps back from the microphone, his face flushed but his expression calm. Sirius is still rooted to the spot, his mind racing, his heart pounding in his chest.

The curtain is pulled back and the first few notes of Starman begin to play, but all Sirius can focus on is the man walking towards him. 

“Was that okay?” Remus asks, nervous. 

Sirius just gawks at him. “Was it okay? That was amazing.”

Remus lets out a breath of relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

Sirius realises in this moment that if he isn’t kissing Remus Lupin in approximately three seconds he is going to combust. 

“Good I was—” Remus begins to say.

But Sirius is lurching forward already, one hand coming to rest under Remus’ jaw and the other in his hair on the back of his head. 

Their lips meet and it’s like heaven. 

Remus freezes for only a heartbeat, the shock of Sirius’s sudden closeness and the press of his lips rendering him motionless. But then he melts, his hands flying up to grip Sirius’s waist as he leans into the kiss with everything he has.

It’s soft at first, tentative, their breaths mingling in the space between them as their lips move together like they were always meant to. Sirius tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and Remus makes a soft, almost startled noise that has Sirius’s chest tightening with an ache so sweet he thinks he might cry.

The world around them fades away—the muffled applause from the audience, the delighted laughter of children just offstage, even the vibrant hum of Starman as the play begins. It’s just them in this tiny corner of the universe, two souls finally colliding in a way that feels as inevitable as the rising moon.

Sirius pulls back slightly, just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against Remus’s. Their noses brush, and Sirius can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face.

“I adore you too,” he says.

Remus is the one that kisses him this time. His fingers gripping Sirius’ waist and pulling him close. 

This kiss is fiercer, charged with the weight of unspoken feelings and the sheer relief of finally crossing the line they’ve been toeing for what feels like forever. Sirius lets out a soft sound of surprise, his hands tightening where they rest.

Remus kisses like he means it, like he’s trying to say everything he’s never been able to put into words. His lips are warm and sure, his hands anchoring Sirius in place as if he’s afraid he might disappear. Sirius, for his part, is more than happy to be held, to give himself over completely to this moment.

When they finally break apart, both of them are breathing heavily, their faces flushed and their eyes bright. Sirius can’t help but laugh softly, his chest so full it’s a wonder he doesn’t float away.

“The songs about to finish.” He points out. 

Remus groans, leaning in to leave a small peck on Sirius’ lips. “I don’t want to let go of you.”

Sirius laughs again. “You don’t need to.” He holds out a hand for Remus to take. He does, their hands fitting perfectly together. “Come on, we have a play to finish.”

With their fingers laced together, Sirius pulls Remus toward the back of the stage. The final notes of Starman ring out, followed by a delighted round of applause from the audience. The children’s voices rise in a cheerful cacophony as they prepare to transition into the next scene.

Sirius spares a glance at Remus, who is watching the kids with a soft, almost dazed smile on his face. He gives his hand a gentle squeeze, drawing Remus’s attention back to him. “You good?” Sirius asks, his grin as wide as ever.

Remus nods, his thumb brushing against the back of Sirius’s hand. “More than good.”

The show goes brilliantly. The annunciation through to the journey to Bethelhem to the stable and the birth of Jesus. The shepherds nail the rendition of twist and shout as the angel tells them about the baby and the wise men perform better than ever before.

Remus and Sirius are ready for them as the children come backstage between scenes with snacks and water, ready for toilet breaks and any words of motivation. 

The penultimate song begins to play. Don’t stop me now by Queen as they celebrate the birth of Jesus. The children are grinning, radiating with happiness and the parents all sing along, clapping happily along with the beat.

Sirius is grinning from ear to ear, so much that it hurts. 

And when that final song begins, All You Need Is Love by the Beatles, he squeezes Remus’ hand and can’t help but laugh. 

Remus laughs too, admitting “you don’t understand how bad I wanted to kiss you that day.”

“I was so angry at James for interrupting us, I refused to speak to him all weekend.” Sirius says between laughs. 

“Let me make up for it” Remus says, using his hold on Sirius’ hand to pull him in close. 

They kiss again, smiling onto each other's lips as the song plays and the show comes to an end. 

All you need is love. Love is all you need.