On the first day of ficmas, Hazel gave to you, a hockey player au….
Remus pushed Sirius’ hand away when it reached over his, trying to stop him from fiddling with the wrapping on their contribution to the team’s secret santa, “Stop it, stop, focus on the road.”
Sirius laughed, but obligingly placed his hand back on the wheel, “Stop fussing, Re, it looks fine.”
Remus stared pointedly ahead of him, eyebrows raised, “Best wrapped gets the fifty dollar Starbucks gift-card.” He leant his head back against the warmed leather seat of Sirius’ car—a splurge after the his first Cup, “Do you understand how long that can last me?”
Sirius glanced over at him, smile half raised, “You don’t need a gift-card.”
Remus looked back down to the neatly wrapped present on his lap. Inside, a set of shot glasses, one for each player, their nickname stenciled cleanly in varsity letters on the side, along with their number, “You don’t need a gift-card. Correction.”
Remus ignored Sirius’ familiar sigh, the one that always came when Remus blatantly refused to accept Sirius’ money—on any terms.
“Alright, alright.” Sirius reached again, palm hovering in the air for a moment, raised like surrender, showing that he meant no trouble, before pressing his fingers into the spaces between Remus’ and resting them on the center console between them. Remus squeezed lightly, just to show he wasn’t actually angry. He saw Sirius smile from the corner of his eye, and he squeezed back.
When they pulled up in the driveway of James’ house, Sirius let out a long whistle, Remus a loud laugh.
“Oh my god.” Remus pressed back into his seat, as if the small extra amount of distance would do anything to lessen the glare of what looked like thousands of blinking lights.
“Prongs getting overexcited.” Remus turned towards Sirius’ voice, and they grinned at each other, “As usual.”
Remus bumped his door closed with his hip, breath fogging in front of him. Sirius chirped the lock, and they squeezed out into the walkway from between the countless other cars of the rest of the team.
“I thought we weren’t late.” Remus frowned, staring at the cars that lined most of the rest of the street.
He looked up at Sirius when an answer didn’t come right away. He was looking straight ahead, mouth clearly fighting a smile and eyes practically glowing.
Remus stopped dead, “I thought—Sirius Black when did this party start?”
Sirius let out a soft laugh, nose scrunching and buried his mouth into the maroon and gold scarf tied around his neck, eyes blinking slowly with mocking innocence, “Seven thirty.”
“Pads!” Remus spluttered, “It’s fucking—“ He dug in his pocket for his phone, shifting the gift to the other hand, “Eight forty-five. It’s nearly nine. You said nine.”
Sirius tugged his scarf down before stepping into Remus’ space. The lights flashed across his skin, his hair curling across his temples form the damp snow falling. He leaned down, broad shoulders blocking them mostly from the view of the house, and caught Remus’ lips in a bruising kiss, head angling to lick into Remus’ mouth. Remus nearly dropped the present.
“Maybe you should have asked what time the party started before climbing on top of me then.”
Remus let out a breath, watching it fog like Sirius’ between them, “You’re a menace.”
“Hm.” Sirius grinned, teeth flashing brightly, and was just nudging their noses together—
“Merry fucking Christmas, lovebirds! Fuck!” There was a muffled sort of crash, and Sirius heard Lily’s voice trying to laugh and scold at the same time.
Sirius sighed, shaking his head lightly.
They turned, Sirius hooking his pinky around Remus’ before fully joining their hands as they picked their way up the snowy path, “Hi, Harz.” Sirius bumped their fists, “Looking a little flushed there, you okay?”
Finn lifted one shoulder, and Remus couldn’t tell if he was leaning against the doorframe in a cool way, or if it was for support, “There’s cider. There’s rum. It’s Christmas.”
“We’re playing Washington in just a few days, get it out of your system now.“
“Cap.” Finn groaned, “C’mon.” Remus snorted at the pout he put on, dark red hair falling into his eyes, “It’s a party.”
There was a whoop, and then James’ face appeared in the small sliver of the warm living room that they could see from the door. He, too, looked a little unsteady on his feet.
“Took you long enough, Jesus.” He pulled Sirius into a tight hug, then flinched, “Take your coat off, that shit’s freezing. And your shoes too, Lils will like it that I said that. Re, was he holding you up?”
“They were tongue-fucking in the driveway.”
Remus grinned into James’ shoulder, before shoving the gift into James’ hands and glaring at Luke, “Just because you’re not getting any, Muzz, doesn’t mean I can’t.”
There were answering shouts of praise from all around, but all Remus really heard was Sirius’ chuckled, “I love you” into his ear.
The house was warm and lively, and Remus split his time between the wives and girlfriends, children, and the players as evenly as he could, although Harry Potter and Kara Loizeaux were hard to say no to. He was currently sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, surrounded by what of the team hadn’t moved into the kitchen at the mention of a fresh batch of cider, and helping the two littlest of the children push a tiny hockey puck back and forth on a miniature rink. He sort of loved how most kids would be pushing a train around a track, while these two were happily pushing the puck around, just like their fathers.
“She’s a hard hitter, no?”
Remus looked up at Marc Loizeaux, grinning, “She’s got the Loizy pout down, that’s for sure.”
“Where ever could she have learned it from, I wonder?” Colette wrapped an arm around her husband’s waist, a glass of wine held lightly in her free hand.
“Yeah, you fucking diver.” Came from the kitchen in Logan’s light accent, made heavier with alcohol.
Marc rolled his eyes, “Tremblay, Surveille ton langage!”
“D’accord, papa, d’accord.”
Remus looked towards the laughter filled room, then met Marc’s smiling eyes again, shaking his head, “I think you have more children than you think you do.”
Colette sighed, taking a sip of wine, “I think so too, Remus.”
The party got a little more wild after the kids were finally put to bed or taken home. They said goodnight to the players, pouting even after it had been made clear that, not only had they been allowed to stay up hours past their bedtime, but that they would be seeing santa in a few days time.
The team sat in a circle, Remus snuggling up close to Lily a little apart to watch them exchange gifts.
“Why is it,” Lily tilted some of his cider into her cup, careful not to spill on her particularly awful Christmas sweater, “that even if they all know they’re going to end up with something, they still get competitive.”
Remus hummed through a mouthful of the warm, spicy drink before swallowing, “Because they know who gives the best ones.”
“No!” Luke shouted, as if on cue, “No, no, I want that one, that is—“
Finn knocked his santa hat off with a bat to the side of his head, “You don’t get to choose Muzz, that’s not how this works.”
“But that’s obviously Remus’.”
Remus grinned at Lily, “Because I give the best ones.”
Sirius spluttered, throwing one of the seemingly thousand cookies occupying the table at Luke’s head, “And mine.”
Luke rolled his eyes, “Please.”
“What is it? I’m not remember the word.” Logan snaps his fingers, “Pants on fire?”
Sirius glared, gesturing between him and Remus, “Le cadeau vient de nous deux.”
Remus sat up a little straighter at the french from Sirius’ mouth. Lily snorted.
“Settle down, Black, settle down.” Logan laughed as he too received a cookie to the face.
“Can you shits get it together?” Ryan gestured to his own gift, “I want to see.”
Lily’s voice rose over the protests, “Three, two, one, go, shitheads.”
There was a brief moment of silence while paper was torn off and gifts were identified.
“I have a shot glass.” Finn said gleefully, “Fuck.” He looked up at Remus, grinning, “Thanks, Lupy.”
“And Sirius.” Sirius grumbled from within what looked like a hand knit team sweater, deep maroon, and with “Go Griffins” sprawled across the back and front.
“You’re welcome.” Remus said, mostly thinking about stealing that sweater.
Then Sirius gave him a look, pushing his hair back from his forehead where it had gotten mussed by the soft wool, like it was already his. Something warmed in Remus’ chest and he set his wine down to settle back against the cushions beneath that gaze.
They all trickled out slowly, mostly by the fault of Finn and Luke, who seemed content to sleep beneath James and Lily’s tree.
“Muzz, Harz.” James crouched down between them and grinned, “Get the fuck out of my house now.”
Remus was wrapping Sirius’ scarf around his neck by the door, holding onto the tails to tug him closer, “I can have that sweater, right?”
Sirius smiled down at him, thumb coming up to brush along Remus’ bottom lip, “You can have whatever you want.”
Logan whistled, “You bet he can.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, “Tremzy, I swear to fucking god—si tu n’arrete pas…”
Logan raised his eyebrows.
“Morning skate is not going to be fun for you.” Sirius ended, in english, decisively with a grin.
There were “oohs” from all around, and Logan’s face dropped, “Cap.”
“Goodnight.” Sirius pulled James in for a hug, “Merry Christmas, Pots.”
The apartment felt quiet but warm and settling when they got back, Sirius dropping their keys onto the table just inside the drawer.
“Well,” He threw his scarf to the side with his coat and toed his shoes off, walking into the kitchen, the tiles cool against his socks, “That was wild, as usual. I don’t even want to know how you control Muzz and Harz in practice, I mean, I love them but do they ever stop talk—“
He cut off with a sharp intake of breath when there were suddenly hands on his hips and he was spun against the counter, the marble cool against his back in contrast to Sirius’ large, warm hands. He looked down at him quietly, eyes soft but intense, a clear grey.
Remus licked his lips, suddenly feeling like the heat had been turned up, “Yes?”
Sirius’ lips pressed together in a smile, head tilting, “Sais-tu que je t’adore?”
Remus recognized nothing but love, so he did nothing but lean up and press a lingering kiss to Sirius’ jaw, about as far as he could reach without Sirius leaning down, “What was that about love, Captain?”
Sirius made a low noise in his throat, “I was asking you the same thing.” He stooped a little, hand reaching up to thumb along Remus’ jaw, “Do you know that I love you?”
Remus hummed, “Well. I think so.” He smiled slowly when Sirius rolled his eyes, dropping his face into Remus’ neck. Remus pressed his palm to his warm nape, scratching his fingers lightly through the curls of dark hair there, “I’m pretty sure I know something like that.”
“I love you with them. With the guys. They love you, too.” Sirius pulled back, nudging their foreheads together, “I’m glad I get to be here this year.”
“Me too.” Remus said immediately. Last year had been hard, they’d played Arizona on the twenty third and Remus had been at home with his parents. This year, Remus had other plans. Most of which included them eating a lot and never leaving Sirius’ overly nice apartment. He was in between semesters, and Sirius had nearly six days–a lifetime compared to his usual in-season breaks. Remus tilted his chin forward expectantly, and Sirius complied, lips hot.
Sirius’ hands looped around his and lead him slowly from the kitchen, kisses promising that the night was far from over.
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