#Christmas Eve will find me lumosinlove

[lumosinlove]

He could still feel him. He saw him everywhere.

[fruitcoops]

Hi Eve! Okay so I was reading sw and after the cubs get together we see Finn and Leo tell part of the team about their relationship and Logan telling Sirius, but we never get to see Dumo finding out and I would really love to see Logan telling Dumo. I just feel like coming out to him would be a really important moment for Logan and a very cute, emotional, father/son, bonding moment for both of them.

I adore your writing and if you have the time, I’d love it if you could write something like that? Thank you!♥️♥️

Fic O' Ween Day 10 (Cryptids) was an ao3 fic, so here's Day 11! I'll be publishing Day 12 sometime today or tomorrow <3 Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Day 11: Halloween Song

If there’s somethin’ strange, in the neighborhood—

“I’m in a relationship.”

Dumo paused with a handful of unicorn streamers halfway to his cart. “Really?”

“Mhmm.” Logan was still sifting through the sticker bin, elbow-deep in characters from a dozen different holidays, but his hands trembled. “Have been for—for about a week now, officially.”

He nodded slowly and set the streamers down. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck— “What’s their name?”

Logan snorted. “Not assuming it’s a girl?”

“I think I learned that lesson already with my other basement goblin. Is she?”

“No.”

Is there something in the tap water? Dumo thought as ‘Ghostbusters’ continued to play overhead. Maybe something haunting the basement walls? “What’s…his name?”

A beat of quiet passed as Logan continued shuffling through sparkly butterflies; he swallowed hard before chancing a look over. “Two.”

Dumo blinked. “Two? Two boyfriends?”

His answering hum was a bit strangled. “You know them, actually.”

“Alright, well, good for—”

“It’s Leo. Knut. Knutty?” He cleared his throat. We’re doing this in a Party City playing outdated Halloween music, Dumo realized through his fog of surprise. My other son is coming out to me and we’re in fucking Party City. “And Finn. Finn O’Hara, the…you know him.”

“Yeah, I know him,” Dumo said, feeling rather silly about the whole thing. He wasn’t exactly surprised, but he had to admit it had been a toss-up between the two for who Logan would end up with. Both…both wasn’t bad. “That’s wonderful, Logan.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” he said thickly, swiping his cheek on the sleeve of his shirt without taking his hands out of the sticker bin. “It’s—I’ve been in love with Finn for about six years, actually, and Leo’s Leo and he’s just great and I’m gay but also not really?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Dumo reached out and placed his hand on the back of Logan’s shoulder, where he could feel him shaking all the way through. The tinny song echoing through the nearly-empty store was almost over. “I’m proud of you.”

He took a shuddering inhale. “D’accord.”

“Viens ici,” he murmured, folding Logan into his arms with a sigh. Hands immediately clutched the back of his thick sweater and a sob was muffled in the knit—he ran his palm in a steady circle over Logan’s shoulder blades until his shivering eased. “This is wonderful news and I am very, very happy for you.”

“I th—I think Sirius and Loops figured their shit out,” he said, sniffling. “They’re gonna be okay.”

“So are you.”

“It’s kind of a lot, isn’t it?”

Dumo gave him a light squeeze of comfort and felt Logan melt into him. “Not if it makes you happy.”

“I haven’t told anyone else yet.”

The electro-synth faded into silence and Dumo closed his eyes. “Thank you for telling me, then. I won’t share unless you want me to.”

“You can tell Celeste. Probably easier that way.”

“D’accord, mon fils.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Logan’s head; after a few more seconds, Logan pulled away and wiped his face off before turning back to the stickers. “We can head home now, if you’d like. We don’t have to stay.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” he said with a wet laugh. “We might miss the Christmas music next.”

“Logan?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is this the ‘no boyfriends behind a closed door’ talk?”

“Non,” Dumo laughed. “If all three of you can manage to fit in one bed, you deserve it. It’s just…I’m proud of you. That’s all.”

His teasing smile slipped into something softer and a flush spread up to his ears. “Merci.”

“I’m proud of you,” Dumo repeated. I wish I could have had this conversation with all five of you. “And I’m here for whatever you need.”

Logan set the roll of glitter-coated stars down and Dumo met him in the middle for an even tighter hug, one that nearly knocked the breath out of him. There was nothing more he needed to say—Logan, despite his allergy to emotional discussions, seemed to understand. They would have plenty of time to discuss the details later without ‘The Monster Mash’ as their background music.

[arrowofcarnations]

Wherever You Find Love, It Feels Like Christmas

~

Written for the magnificent M @opaleyedragon for the SW/C2C Secret Santa exchange! Some Christmas cub fluff for your yuletide enjoyment. Universe and characters by @lumosinlove!

(Also, yes, I did take the title for this fic from a song in The Muppet Christmas Carol, one of the greatest cinematic masterpieces of our time.)

~

“Okay,” Leo said, socked feet padding across the living room and a trio of steaming mugs in his hands. “I’m ready, unpause it. Scoot over, Harz.”

Finn shifted on the couch to give Leo enough room to sit. He took two of the mugs carefully from Leo’s hands, passing one down to Logan on his other side. “I love that we stopped the movie for emergency hot chocolate,” he teased, grinning as he lifted the mug to his lips. Leo could see the lights from their Christmas tree reflected in his brown eyes, soft and twinkling.

“Had to be done,” Leo shrugged, blowing gently on his own drink. He nodded toward the TV, where The Santa Clause was still frozen on the screen. “It looked too good.”

“Yours is better,” Logan declared, taking a long sip. His appreciative groan—and the foamy mustache above his upper lip—made Leo and Finn laugh.

Logan turned to meet Leo’s eyes, and Leo smiled at him, tilting his head. “Better than an elf’s?” he asked. “I don’t know, Tremz. She’s magical.”

“So? You’re magical,” Logan said immediately, and Leo bit his lip to keep the grin from splitting his face. “And so is your cocoa. Parfait.”

Leo took a sip of his own drink, savoring the rich chocolate on his tongue, and glanced at the steadily falling snow outside their windows. They’d spent the entire day alone together, enjoying some peace before the whirlwind of travel and family and big celebrations. It was the best Christmas Eve he’d ever had. The thought that he could have this every year, forever, warmed him from head to toe.

“Oui,” he said softly, leaning back against the cushions. “Parfait.”

They settled back into the movie, jostling each other as they battled for real estate under the oversized knit throw Celeste had given them as a housewarming gift a few months back. Leo rested his head against Finn’s as they watched, Logan tucked against Finn’s other side, and savored that, too—the closeness of his two favorite people to him, to each other.

It was nearing midnight by the time the credits rolled. Finn sat up and yawned hugely, stretching his arms over his head before reaching past the empty cocoa mugs on the coffee table to grab the remote.

“What do we think, boys?” he asked, looking from Logan to Leo as the TV flickered off. “Another movie, or?”

Logan, hair mussed and eyes sleepy from the long cuddle, pushed himself halfway off the couch to stretch his back out. “Ouais, sounds good,” he said, blinking up at them. “We already opened all our presents, and if I eat another of Knutty’s Christmas cookies right now, I’m gonna need bigger pants.”

Suddenly, Finn sprang into action, nearly taking Leo with him as he launched himself off the couch, still half-tangled in the blanket they were sharing. “Jesus, Finn, what—”

“I almost forgot,” Finn said in a rush, and Leo let his unfinished question hang in the air, cocking his head at his boyfriend. “Stay here,” was the only further explanation Finn offered before jogging down the hall and up the stairs toward the bedroom.

Logan raised an eyebrow at Leo as he maneuvered himself close enough to put his feet in Leo’s lap. “What was that about?” he asked.

Leo could only shrug. “No idea.” His hands found Logan’s, threading their fingers and giving a brief squeeze. “How’re your hips?”

Logan, who was watching Leo with half-lidded eyes and his side pressed against the back of the couch, blinked. “Quoi?”

“Sore?” Leo clarified, glancing at the jar of tiger balm that lived on the coffee table. They’d been playing hard, practicing hard, right up until the holiday break, and they’d all been feeling it. If Logan’s perpetual sore spots were bothering him, Leo wanted to help.

Rather than reaching for the jar, Logan tipped forward to catch Leo in a gentle, slow kiss instead. “I’m okay,” he murmured. His smiling lips were centimeters from Leo’s own, their noses brushing, and Leo smiled back, running his hands over Logan’s broad shoulders. “You are so…” Logan trailed off, shaking his head a little as he reached up to cradle Leo’s face in his hands.

“I’m so what?” Leo asked, the softness of his own voice surprising him.

“Just…” Logan shook his head again, still smiling. “J'aime ton doux coeur.”

Leo wasn’t sure his heart was any sweeter than Logan’s, but he knew it was swelling in his chest at Logan’s words, at the way he was looking at him. They were caught up in a slow, unending kiss when footsteps appeared on the stairs, then in the room.

Leo pulled back from Logan with one last peck and looked over at Finn, who was watching them with soft eyes. “Best thing to walk in on, wow,” he sighed, and Leo laughed.

“The best thing?” he asked archly, raising an eyebrow.

“Top ten.” Finn crossed the room but didn’t join them on the couch, sitting instead on the edge of the coffee table so he was facing the two of them.

“Okay, so,” he started, trailing off as he looked at each of them. He was fidgeting with something in his hands, and Leo realized it was a pair of small boxes, badly wrapped. “One more present.”

“Quoi?” Logan said, noticing the boxes, too. “But...I didn’t get you anything else, Harzy.” Leo nodded; they’d already exchanged all their gifts for each other after dinner.

“It’s a bonus present,” Finn said, and was Leo imagining it, or was he a little nervous? “It’s something for both of you. Well, for me, too.” He pressed one box into Logan’s hands, then the other into Leo’s.

Leo only looked down at it for a second before starting to tear away the wrapping paper, beyond curious about this so-called “bonus present.” Under the shiny, smooth paper was a velvet box, palm-sized. Gryffindor Jewelers was scrawled across the top in elegant gold script. Leo’s heart sped up; he lifted the lid, not knowing what to expect.

Nestled inside was a necklace, the delicate gold chain tucked into the cushion. Hanging from the chain were three circles in three different colors. They overlapped each other, intertwining together to create one pendant.

“Oh,” Leo breathed. He heard Logan whisper “Finn” a moment later. He looked up at Finn, who was watching them carefully, a hopeful smile on his face.

“You don’t have to wear them, if you don’t want,” he started. “I know you’ve got a necklace already, Lo, and you don’t usually wear jewelry, Nut, but I saw these and thought—they’re kind of us, the three, you know?” He reached under his hoodie, pulling an identical necklace out from under it. “I got one for me, too, so it’d be like...all of us together, on the ice or wherever. We’d wear them and know.”

Leo and Finn looked over as Logan slowly lifted his necklace over his head. Leo wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Logan take it off—not to sleep, not to shower. He took the new one out of its box, then fiddled with it a moment until he got the tri-color ring off its chain. Leo bit his lip as Logan slid it onto his necklace’s chain, the well-worn fleur de lis clinking against the shiny new ring softly. He heard Finn take a sharp breath in, and then felt Finn’s eyes move to him as he took out his own necklace and put it on, the pendant settling over his pounding heart.

“I love it,” Leo said around the lump growing in his throat. His smile was growing wider by the second as he looked down at his own chest, then at Finn’s and Logan’s. “I love you, Finn, of course I’ll wear this. Thank you.”

“Mon rouge,” Logan said, and Leo was glad to hear that his voice wasn’t the only one that had gone a little scratchy. Logan pushed himself off the couch and knelt in front of Finn, tugging him down for a searing kiss.

Finn was practically beaming now as he stroked a thumb across Logan’s cheek. “Yeah? You like it?”

Logan huffed, rolling his eyes before planting another firm kiss on Finn’s lips. “I’m never taking it off,” he mumbled, pressing a palm to the center of Finn’s chest, covering the pendant Leo knew was there. “Love you, Fish.”

“Love you,” Finn smiled. They both rejoined Leo on the cushions, but Leo didn’t let Finn get very far, tugging him onto his lap to press kisses across his cheeks, nose, forehead and lips.

“Love you too, Knutty,” Finn added, kissing Leo back with all the same tenderness. He glanced down, playing with the pendant before letting it bounce back against Leo's chest. “Looks good on you.”

The three of them stayed like that, cuddled up with each other and sharing lazy kisses, until the snow slowed to a stop outside the warmth of their home and they were all fighting off yawns and drooping eyelids.

Leo wanted to drag them to bed and wrap himself around them, letting their heat lull him to sleep. He wanted to wake up to a Gryffindor white Christmas and kiss them good morning, then make them all breakfast to the sound of Finn’s off-key caroling. He smiled as he remembered he could have all of that—he could have everything—and ducked down to kiss the juncture of Finn’s neck and shoulder, over the necklace chain.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered, and had never meant it more.

[awanderingdeal]

Simply having a wonderful Christmas time [Part 2]

Merry Christmas to all those folks who celebrate today! This one is dedicated to those of you of who are perhaps not spending Christmas in the way that you would like this year. I hope this brings you a little bit of Joy. Please note that this fic is filled with happy Christmas people so if that is going to make you feel worse then please avoid. 

Here’s your Coops instalment! Not the best thing I have ever written and it turned out to be a more Sirius and Jules interacting. Never the less, I hope you enjoy. 

Rating: T

CW: Christmas and Food talk. Very minor mention of past bad Christmas’ in the penultimate paragraph.

And again, this universe belongs to @lumosinlove and I feel incredibly privileged to be able to play in it. Thank you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t unusual for Sirius to wake up at stupid hours of the morning and apparently his insomnia made no exception for Christmas day. He rolled over to check his phone, 04:56. He wondered if he should be concerned that the only thought that his brain supplied was; hey, that’s not too bad. Sometimes if he closed his eyes he could pry out another few hours of sleep. He could tell that today was not one of the days. 

Accepting defeat, Sirius carefully teased himself from Remus' arms. He’d mastered the art of doing so without waking his fiancé up. Fiancé. It was a new thing and it still felt unreal. Remus Lupin actually wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. 

Sirius figured that he would make a coffee and find something to watch on the TV until it was a reasonable hour to wake Remus up. His plans were quickly scuppered. As he started to walk down the corridor, a head peaked out from one of the doors.

“Sirius?” Julian whispered, his voice filled with excitement. 

Sirius felt a smile spread across his face, “Awake already, Jules? The sun hasn’t even risen yet. What if Santa hasn’t been?” 

Julian scoffed. “Sirrrrius,” he whined. “I’m nine years old. I do not believe in Santa.”

“I know, I know,” Sirius laughed. “But it’s part of the fun isn’t it? Pretending.”

Julian grumbled, apparently too cool for all that now. “What are you doing?”

“I was going to make coffee and watch a movie. Want to join?” Sirius replied. He loved spending time with Remus’ brother. It felt like practise for when he and Remus had kids. It felt like redemption for all the things he did wrong with Regulus. It was a chance to relive the few things he had done right. And Julian was incredibly easy to bribe for stories of young Remus. 

“Can we make waffles!?” Julian asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

Sirius lifted a finger to his lips, “Not so loud, Jules.”

The boy whispered an apology, but he didn’t seem very sorry. 

“It’s okay, it’s Christmas. You're allowed to be excited. We can make waffles but only if you can tell me how. I’m a disaster in the kitchen,” Sirius answered the earlier question. 

Julian nodded his head quickly, “I know how! I can show you.”

Sirius figured reprimanding Julian’s volume again would be futile and opted to usher him down the corridor to the kitchen. He closed the door behind them in the hopes that it would provide a buffer between the excited nine year old and the sleeping adults.

“Aprons first, I think. Hope won’t be impressed if we get batter all over our pyjamas.” Sirius said, grabbing two aprons from the hook on the wall. 

Julian and he wore matching nightwear. In fact, they all did - Sirius, Julian, Remus, Hope and Lyall. It was a Lupin family tradition. Christmas Eve was board games and a brand new set of pyjamas. Sirius had had to excuse himself to the bathroom when Hope had handed him his pair. When he had returned, Lyall had looked at Sirius’ red eyes, taken his hands and said, “When are you going to realise that you are family now?”

When Sirius turned back around, he found Julian had climbed on to the counter. “Jules! What are you doing?” he panicked. This boy was going to be the death of him. 

“I do it all the time,” Julian argued. “The recipe that mama always uses is in here,” he added, his fingers curled around a thick tome. He carefully opened it to the contents page, tracing down the page until he found what he was looking for, “Page 98.” he said, holding the book out for Sirius to grab. 

“Okay, okay, just get down please,” Sirius took the book and turned it to the correct page. Perfect Every Time Homemade Waffles. The page was littered with comments and annotations, mostly in Hope’s messy scrawl. What Sirius liked the most though was that he could see the development of Remus on the page. From his childish chick scratch to the loopy cursive that Sirius was so familiar with. 

The recipe wasn't too difficult and the two of them managed to get the waffles made without too much of a disaster. 

"Jeez," Remus said from the doorway, making Sirius jump as he poured the batter into the waffle maker. 

"Re!" Julian squealed, scrambling down from his seat at the counter. 

Sirius had to give Remus credit for the fact that he didn't even flinch when Julian wrapped his flour covered arms around him. 

"Merry Christmas, Jules," Remus chuckled. "What is going on here then?" 

Sirius leaned against the counter, his smile broad as he watched Remus and Julian interact. They looked exactly the same, standing there in their matching pyjamas. They wore the same expressions of concentration as Julian explained how they were making waffles and listing off the toppings they could have. 

"Hey, Jules. Do you want to be the first to taste?" Sirius asked when the waffle maker sounded. 

"Yes! And Remus has to try too." Julian said eagerly, suddenly by Sirius's side.

Sirius caught Remus' eye and saw the same look of happiness that he knew was in his own. "Of course Remus has to try."

Soon, the waffles had been tasted and approved. They cooked up several more, piling them on to a large plate. Just as they were finishing up, Hope and Lyall appeared.

"Sleeping in until 7am on Christmas Morning. We'll keep you around Sirius." Hope greeted. "I'll even forgive the state of my kitchen."

Sirius wore a guilty expression as he looked around. Somehow, they had used almost every bowl in the kitchen, there was egg residue all over the counter tops and flour handprints on everything. "Sorry," he apologised.

"Merry Christmas, my darlings," Hope kissed Remus, then Julian and finally Sirius on the cheek. She stopped in front of him, "Don't apologise, dear. You are always welcome to make a mess in this kitchen."

“Right! Let’s get this feast onto the table,” Lyall clapped his hands together and started to grab the array of toppings that Sirius and Julian had decided upon. 

Sirius managed to find Remus amongst the chaos. He pressed a gentle kiss against his lips and sighed a happy, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” 

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Remus said back. 

Christmas with his parents had been nothing short of a nightmare. Christmas with the Dumais had taught him what it was supposed to be like. Still despite the fact that he loved Dumo, Celeste and all the kids, he’d always felt as if he was invading somehow. 

It was early, but Sirius could already tell that here with Remus and his family - Sirius’ family too now - it was going to be different. He belonged here. He thought of the rings newly settled on his and Remus’ fingers. If Sirius had his way, he’d spend a lifetime's worth of Christmas’ here.

[bkfstclubmember]

Invitation to Tradition

This is my gift for the Secret Santa event on the Hazelnut Discord. I hope the O’Knutzy was fluffy enough :) I’m not sure yet what I’ll do with the related ideas and other snippet pieces from my chaotic writing attempt. All credit to @lumosinlove who created the SW world and characters; thanks for letting us play with them. We love them, and you, so much.

Happy Christmas, everyone!! 

(Note: In this universe, Finn and Leo coach Katie’s hockey team, which is how they meet the Dumais and Logan.)

We wish you a merry Christmas

And a happy new year!

“Bravo! Would you all like to come in for coffee?”

“Merci, we always appreciate your hospitality, but we really must be on our way. We still have a couple of stops to make,” Dumo answered as he led his family away from the Brown’s home after bidding them good night. At Dumo’s insistence, Logan joined the Dumais this year for their annual Christmas caroling tradition. Singing wasn’t really his thing, but he loved every last one of the Dumais. He was especially grateful to them for treating him like a true member of the family while he lived in their basement.

At Katie’s request, Logan held her hand as the family collectively stepped back onto the sidewalk, the sand and ice-melt crunching under foot.

“One last house!” Dumo announced as he led his family around the street corner.

“But Papa,” Adele hesitated, “we always end on this block.“

“Don’t worry, ma fille. We have time for one more house before we go pick out a tree. We’ll make it there before they close.”

“Lolo?” Logan looked down at Katie as she tugged on his hand. “Are you going to take me to hockey practice tomorrow?

Logan took a deep breath as he considered Katie’s question. It should be a simple question with a simple answer. He knew Katie’s practice was at 4 o’clock tomorrow afternoon. He wasn’t busy and normally he wouldn’t hesitate to help out especially when it was hockey-related and especially for Katie, who Dumo often claimed had Logan wrapped around her tiny finger, but Logan faltered. He knew he would see Katie’s coaches, Finn O’Hara and Leo Knut, and he didn’t know what to do with his feelings when they looked his way. Logan felt exposed when Leo smiled revealing his dimples and heated through his core when Finn winked at him the first time they met. He had planned to avoid them until he felt less confused by these feelings. He wasn’t exactly sure where they might lead.

“It would be really helpful if you could take her, mon fils,” Celeste chimed in with a smile as they all continued following Dumo and Adele, just a few steps ahead of them.

Logan nodded. “Of course, maman, I’m happy to.” He had almost a whole day to prepare himself.

Dumo leaned forward to ring the doorbell as their family gathered on the front porch of the next house.

Logan thought he was prepared to sing Joy to the World with the rest of the Dumais clan, but Joy was all that came out when the door opened revealing Leo Knut with those dimples of his standing before them. Then, Finn joined them and Logan decided he was ready to give up on contributing outside of the bass beat being provided by his heart.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” Finn grinned after they sang their last song.

“Would y’all like to come inside?” Leo offered. “I baked cookies this afternoon.”

Dumo ruffled Marc’s hair. “Well, I promised the kids we’d pick up our tree and we have just enough time before it closes.”

Logan met Finn’s eyes and there was that feeling again. He was certain Finn and Leo could pluck the thoughts right out of his head. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but now that Finn and Leo were here right in front of him he knew he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to burrow as close as possible until he knew more — everything — about them.

“Let us at least send you off with some for the road,” Leo insisted. He slipped off to the kitchen before anyone could object and returned with a square container that he handed to Dumo.

Dumo nudged Logan. “Mon fils, were you planning on joining us to pick up the tree? You never said.”

Logan shifted his glance and blinked up at a Dumo. Before he could respond, Finn jumped in with “If you’re not the pining type, our invitation still stands.” He knew before he looked up at Finn and Leo that it was impossible for him to turn that invitation down now. Next thing he knew, Logan found himself inside Finn and Leo’s home.

“We were just about to enjoy one of our own traditions. Cookies, hot chocolate, and a good, old-fashioned Christmas movie,” Leo mentioned as they settled together on the couch. “Interested?”

Logan agreed it sounded like a great plan and Finn offered to start the hot chocolate and gather snacks while Leo and Logan chose the movie and set up.

Logan flipped through movie options with Leo, but at the same time the urge to know more and more about these two lingered in his mind. He wasn’t sure exactly what would satisfy, but he was willing to start anywhere and take anything, so he gave in with a simple question. “What are your other traditions?”

Leo lit up at the question. “Skating on Christmas Eve. That’s definitely a favorite in our house. We started that tradition the year we moved to Gryffindor. So, about five years or so.” Leo glanced away from the screen to look at Logan and offered his dimpled smile. “You should join us this year.”

The itchy exposed feeling was back. Logan realized it only grew brighter the more time he spent with Finn and Leo, and he was sure it was shining through his eyes in the most obvious way. He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ll be there.”

Logan helped Leo plug in the string of lights that encircled their tree as well as the room before turning off the larger lamps and overhead lighting. Then, while Leo set off to gather blankets, which he insisted were essential for enjoying their holiday movie tradition, Logan moved towards the kitchen. “Need any help?” he asked as he leaned against the open doorway.

Finn nodded, “Just about done, so stick around and you can help carry.”

Logan watched Finn stir his creation carefully and taste test before adding more cinnamon. “Fancy,” he commented.

Finn shrugged, “It’s pretty much the only thing I make. My older brother showed me. He used to make it for me this way growing up.”

“You don’t live off hot chocolate, do you?” Logan teased.

Finn winked with a grin. “Oh no, Leo is the cooking wizard. He’s the reason I don’t exist solely on takeout.”

“I think we’re set,” Leo announced as he rounded the corner, coming to a sudden halt in front of Logan who was still perched in and blocking the doorway to the kitchen. Evidently, he didn’t expect to find Logan roaming in the doorway. Logan sensed the shift in tension, but wasn’t sure of the cause until he noticed and followed Leo’s subtle upward glance. Mistletoe in the doorway.

Logan ran his hand through his hair before dropping his head back against the doorframe. The feeling that felt strong and singular before was worthy of the plural now. Leo stood tall and still against the other side of the doorframe and Logan risked looking directly into his eyes. All he could see was blue. Blue. He hated clichés, but Logan suddenly understood why people said that it was possible to drown in someone’s eyes because those eyes truly reminded him of the ocean and he was lost at sea. Logan’s world narrowed for just a moment and all he could sense was the rushing in his ears. Then, Leo took a step forward and the feelings were overwhelming. He started to step forward too until Finn’s movement in his periphery broke through the surface. He was unsure and frozen again until Finn spoke softly.

“He’s wanted to kiss you since he met you. We’ve wanted to.”

Logan reached for Leo’s hand and pulled him forward as he searched his blue eyes again. He felt exposed and vulnerable again, but this time he didn’t feel so alone in the feeling.

Leo squeezed his hand. “Do you want to, sweetheart?”

“Please,” Logan breathed and pushed up on his toes as Leo leaned down and their lips met in the middle. Their kiss was simple rather than prolonged, but it was so satisfying; now he knew one more thing about Leo. Logan’s chest pushed out a sigh. They broke apart, once, and then again after Leo leaned back in to kiss the corner of Logan’s mouth. Leo squeezed his hand again and they remained linked while they retreated to opposite sides of the doorframe.

Finn grinned as he continued ladling hot chocolate into mugs. “I knew that mistletoe was a good idea even if this was not what I planned when I tacked it up there.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but he was grinning too and Logan smiled back. Dimples.

“Ok, holiday movie time!” Finn sang as he leaned in with a kiss for Leo before handing him the plate of cookies. Then, he turned to Logan. “ You haven’t moved.” Logan shrugged, waiting.

Finn reached for the mugs and leaned in to pass him one. Logan reached out to take it, but instead both of their hands remained wrapped together around the mug. He watched as Finn tilted his head in question. “Our turn?”

Logan leaned over the mug between them and kissed him hard. Finn’s lips tasted of the chocolate, cinnamon, and sugar of Christmas. Finn pushed back carefully so as not to rock the full mug between them too much. Logan was tempted to nibble and lick to chase the taste that was both Christmas and Finn because while his kiss with Leo was soft, this kiss felt playful. It lasted just a few moments, but it was yet another thing that Logan knew now that he didn’t just minutes before.

They pulled away and Finn cleared his throat before reiterating, “Right. Holiday movie time.”

All three moved back to the couch to settle in for one of Finn and Leo’s holiday traditions. They were all quiet until Logan broke the silence. “I want to know you.” He wasn’t sure it made sense, but he hoped they’d hear the words and let them sink in.

“We want to know you too,” Finn answers softly.

“Sometimes it feels like you’re supposed to know me. Or maybe that you’re going to,” Logan murmured. Then, he shrugged, “Don’t you find that scary?”

Leo rested his hand on Logan’s knee. “I think that sounds exciting. We’ve found,” he gestured between Finn and himself, “that it’s easiest together.”

[marauderss-hp]

Ficmas Day Twenty-Four - Christmas Eve

So I know I said I wasn’t going to continue with Ficmas, but I also said that If you'd read them I'd post a few. So I’m going to start from here until New Year, but I might post some past ideas that I had that were meant for the previous days! Again I'm sorry for not doing everyday! This is scheduled so I don’t know when i’ll be replying sorry

Characters by the amazing @lumosinlove which should come at no surprise to anyone by now.

word count: 978

-

It was 7:30 am on Christmas Eve morning and Logan was confused as to why only one of his boyfriends were cuddled up to him in bed. He hadn’t noticed at first, moving further into the warmth that was Finn’s chest before he realised there was a distinct lack of heat that was normally splayed across his back. Sleepily, he lifted his head up and looked over his shoulder, frowning slightly when he didn’t see Leo’s sleeping face, only to hear a racket coming from the kitchen. It took Logan a few moments to register what was going on before he was sighing, untangling his limbs from Finn, who simply curled back into his pillow, pulling the covers further up around his shoulders. Logan's face softened as he watched Finn try to find a different source of heat and he let his hand travel to his hair, fingers tangling themselves in the red mop until he felt him fall back to sleep.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled on a pair of Finn’s fuzzy socks and Leo’s old hockey sweatshirt before heading out towards the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning quietly. He wasn’t surprised with the sight he was greeted with as he leant against the doorframe. He watched as Leo dashed around the kitchen, pans boiling on the stove, a mixing bowl on and pastry ready to be rolled out on the surface of the counter.

This was their first Christmas together as a couple and they all wanted it to be perfect. For Logan, it was the presents. For Finn, it was the decorations. For Leo, no surprise to anyone, it was the food. Not only was it going to be them, but all of their families were coming to visit for Christmas dinner tomorrow, all their parents, Logan’s sisters and Alex. Logan knew that Leo wanted the food to be amazing, and he had spent countless nights finding the perfect dishes to serve for their dessert and what he should serve alongside the meat, what starters everybody wanted. He had been on the phone to Celeste and his mom constantly, asking for any tips or old recipes he could borrow. He had worn himself tired and now he was back in the kitchen, except this time it was the real deal. Leo had told the boys his plan for when he would be cooking dishes and what was being made first, so Logan knew that he was making desserts today and they smelt amazing already.

Tired of watching and needing a hug, Logan made sure that Leo wasn’t busy doing something with his hands that could potentially mess up a dish before stumbling over towards him, crashing into his back, hearing Leo let out a groan at the force. He was suddenly spun around in Leo’s arms, back now to the counter and was staring up at the baby blue eyes he loved so much.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Leo whispered to him, bringing Logan closer to his chest and nuzzling his face into his neck.

“Morning, Peanut,” Logan yawned out back to him, shoving him slightly when he heard Leo let out a quiet chuckle. “Hey! I’m tired. It’s Christmas Eve, we shouldn’t have to be up before 10 o’clock Nutty” Logan stated.

Leo looked up from where he was laying in Logan’s neck, guilt covering his face. “ ‘m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I said we. You don’t have to be up so early either, mon Cheri.” he nudged the side of Leo’s jaw with his nose and brought his mouth up to kiss him soundlessly. He broke the kiss after a few moments and looked to his side at the array of dishes that were currently in the making.

Leo saw him looking and sighed, “I know, I know, there’s no need for me to stress or overthink or overwork. I just want this to go perfect. It’s our first Christmas together.”

This time Logan pulled Leo towards his chest. “It’s already perfect. I have everything I could ever ask for this Christmas. You, Finn, all of us together living under the same roof. Sounds pretty perfect to me, love.”

“I know and it’s perfect for me too but-“

“No buts, baby! Come back to bed. We have all day today to get this sorted and we can help you if you can handle a messy kitchen,” Logan cut off at Leo’s cute little giggle. “Let’s go, come on.”

Logan took Leo’s hand and pulled him slightly in the direction of their bedroom when he heard the door creak and he looked over to see Finn walking out, messy hair and tired eyes, confused as to why he was alone.

“What’re you doing? It’s not even 8am yet, you should not be up yet.” he grumbled, cold and wanting to snuggle with his boyfriends.

“I had to drag Leo away from the kitchen. He was cooking for tomorrow. He doesn’t want it to go badly.”

That seemed to wake Finn up and he was looking at Leo softly before walking towards him and taking him into his arms, as best he could with the height difference.

“Don’t stress. Everything’s perfect. Everything will always be perfect. Now can we please go back to bed?” he whined.

His two boyfriends laughed and before they knew it they were under the covers, placing Leo in the middle this time, with his back to Finn and his face buried in Logan’s neck. He was out in an instant. His boys dropped the occasional kiss onto his cheek, neck, hair, shoulder, wherever they could. They looked at each other and smiled joining their hands over their boyfriend and kissed gently, pulling Leo closer towards them, all three of them smiling, and they drifted off to sleep again.

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

Seven: Sirius

Sleeper Car

Somewhere Just Outside of Athens

“I speak ten languages.”

They hadn’t spoken much since entering their small sleeper car. Remus was wary of him. Sirius could feel the lack of trust rolling off of him in waves. He had taken a seat in the window nook and mostly watched the world go by until the sun went down. It left Sirius—not wanting to crowd him—to lay down on the bottom bunk. He figured Remus would want the better vantage point. He always had before. Some time after James had come around knocking with sandwiches, Remus had climbed up to his own top bunk and finally asked his first question.

“Ten sounds right,” Sirius replied.

“Do you, too?” Remus asked.

“Yeah,” Sirius said. He had to clear his throat to make the words come out clearer. Remus had startled him. He’d been near asking Remus something himself so many times, but he wasn’t sure where to start. Are you okay? Were you hurt? Where were you? Did someone help you?

Sirius could feel Remus thinking. He heard the mattress shift from above him. He couldn’t see the bed’s slates or anything. No springs. Each bunk felt like a small sleigh. The wood was carved in a soft-edge curling boarder that Sirius was sure he was going to forget about and hit his head on.

“I’d say your Greek is better than mine, though,” Sirius said.

That night getting gin drunk at the café. Watching Remus converse easily with the waiter, making him laugh straight from his belly and give them two rounds for free. Sirius loved to watch Remus talk to new people, no matter what language. Charm and joy came so easy to him. Sirius had always been too busy sizing up strangers like opponents. Like a threat.

It was easier when it was just him and Remus. Him and James. Him and himself.

He could have sat by the water with Remus forever, joking about diving in.

He had already known Remus was worried about something. Them. I wonder about them. He should have tried harder to break through while they were both weakened by wine and each other. Relaxed and happy. Instead, Sirius had been distracted. Remus in the moonlight, Remus, tilting the wine bottle to his lips as they sat by the sea.

“Come on. We have all night, don’t give out on me, Black.” He’d been laughing as Sirius pushed the bottle away.

“Not if we’re going swimming.” And Sirius had really wanted to go swimming. He’d wanted Remus’ pale back in the moon and a chance—maybe there would be a chance to kiss him.

Sirius got up from the bunk, avoiding hitting his head, and went to sit in the window seat. He could feel the world’s winter air through the glass. He wasn’t going to sleep, and he couldn’t stand this silence from Remus, this wariness. He took out his knives, his guns, and began to check for rust. He couldn’t feel if Remus was watching him or not. Maybe he was sleeping, maybe he was listening. Maybe he was worrying, or even bleeding as he tried to remember something.

Sirius was trying so hard to merely focus on the gun parts in his hands that he didn’t even hear Remus until he was sliding into the booth across from him.

“Why are you the one I remember?” Remus asked.

That question was torture. Why, indeed.

Sirius’ heart thumped. “I don’t know. Your mind wants to remember your life. It’s fighting against whatever scrambled your memories—”

“Yes, but—” The breath Remus let out was frustrated and he stilled Sirius’ busy hands with his own. “Why is it you?” 

“I—I don’t know,” Sirius said, startled by the touch.

“You’re lying.”

Sirius shook his head. “Why would I lie? I…We’re—we work together, we spend lots of time together.”

“We kiss,” Remus said, and a faint buzzing started up in Sirius’ ears. “I dream about kissing you.”

That night, the last time they’d been in Greece. Sirius, we shouldn’t. We shouldn’t. No, Sirius thought. They definitely did not kiss.

“We’re together,” Remus said. It was only half a question, like he was sure that Sirius would agree. He even had a brow arched, as if he was so sure Sirius was lying, as if he was so sure that they actually were together.

It took everything in Sirius to say, “No.”

What the hell was Remus doing, dreaming about kissing him like it was a memory?

Remus narrowed his eyes at him. His mouth opened and closed twice. “But…”

Sirius had nothing to say. Remus’ hand was still over his own, but it slipped away as he sat back in his seat, blinking hard down at the table.

“We work at Salazar,” he said. “Together.”

“Yes,” Sirius nodded.

“A mission went wrong—what did Leo say, six months ago.”

“Yes.”

“I was shot. And Logan.”

“Yes.”

“By Salazar?”

Sirius took a breath. Before Jack, he would have said no, by our targets in Greece. The only wrench was, they had never actually been told who exactly those targets were, and Sirius had spent most of the ride to the train station putting a possible two-and-two together:

Remus stopped trusting Salazar for some reason. Salazar found out and needed to get rid of him without suspicion.

Leo had agreed when he’d whispered it to him as they boarded a bus. What I want to know, Leo had said. Is if Logan knew what Remus knew, or if he just got caught in the crossfire.

“We thought it was a third party, but I think you…” Sirius hesitated. “Knew something. I think you, and maybe Logan, knew something that Salazar didn’t want you to know.” Sirius set the gun down and leaned forward. “What does the name Pascal mean to you?”

Remus shook his head. “Nothing.”

Sirius sighed. “Yeah.”

I dream about kissing you.

They went past a small village, close enough that Sirius could see glimpses of warm lights on in houses.

“Why take our memories? Why not just kill us?” Remus was looking at him in the reflection of the window. Their little cabin looked so perfect against the window’s foggy mirror. Soft and gentle and normal.

“They tried.” Sirius couldn’t meet his eyes when he said it, not even in the window. “Someone took your tracker out and saved you.” He put a hand on his own neck. “We had to cut ours out, too.”

“Saved me?”

“Yeah.”

“And it wasn’t you?”

Sirius shook his head, though Remus didn’t look like he entirely believed him.

“It wipes your memory, that’s the first defense mechanism. We’re thinking they could probably reverse that while the tracker was in place. Leo will be working on that, it’s his area. But…” Sirius rubbed his temple. Kissing kissing kissing. “There’s a kill switch, too. We got ours out in time, we’re thinking you and Lo got your memories wiped first. Then you wouldn’t’ve even know it was there, not to mention how to take it out of your neck. So someone else had to do it.”

“But if it’s out, how will we reverse it?” Remus asked.

For the first time, something other than that hard exterior flashed across Remus’ face. Fear. Sirius wanted to touch his hand again but he didn’t know how. Remus knew two things and one of them wasn’t even true: his own name, and Sirius’ face. A name was a name, but Sirius, apparently, was much less than he had thought he was.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said softly, looking at him directly. “I don’t know.”

Remus pressed his lips together, gaze jerking out the window again.

“We don’t know yet,” Sirius amended. “Leo is good. Leo is very good.”

“Says you,” Remus said in a cool tone. His eyes were still tight and worried, but he was trying to play it off. He looked down at Sirius’ gun. “I can put that back together in a couple seconds. Can you?”

Sirius didn’t even look down as his hands had the weapon reassembled before Remus had even drawn his next breath.

Remus nodded thoughtfully. He was still watching Sirius’ hands. The sound of laughter, a group of people, passed by their door and they both looked. Sirius couldn’t help the way his hand tightened around the gun. He’d never work that reflex out of his system.

“Just passengers,” Remus said. “Am I always this jumpy? Are we, I should say.”

“We are,” Sirius said. We, his mind caught on. “But that’s what keeps us alive.”

“Is it?”

Sirius made to point his gun and, before his wrist got more than an inch above the table, Remus’ hand was around it, vice-like. Sirius watched him stare at it. He watched the slow, half smile cross Remus’ face.

“I see.”

Remus let go slowly. Sirius wished he wouldn’t. He took up the gun. As Sirius watched, he took it apart again and then put it back together—easy.

“If only I could do that to myself,” Remus said.

“I would if I could.”

Remus nodded. He set the gun down between them. The train took a turn and they both leaned a little, looking back out the window—at each other’s reflections—as the hills turned with them.

“Are you sure we’ve never kissed?” Remus asked.

“I wouldn’t lie.” He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Remus’ reflection looked at him. “Did we want to?”

That was a more complicated question. Want. There were years of history in that word. In the dormitories, shaking Remus’ hand for the first time. Helping each other in class—learning languages, picking each other’s pockets and trying to see if the other might notice. Pinning each other on the mat, catching each other with the stunning bullets in target practice. They had been named a team from the very beginning. Sirius, perhaps, had fallen in love not just with Remus, but with the idea of never having to leave his side.

Even still, it took everything in him to say, “Yes.”

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

Six: Finn

Sleeper Car

Somewhere Just Outside of Athens

The setting sun turned their small cabin a brilliant orange as the train dashed along. They were well out of the city and in rocky looking grasslands. James had knocked on their door with sandwiches not too long ago—let’s lay low for the night. They’d found porcelain plates strapped up delicately within the bar cabinet. There was heat and an extremely tiny bathroom with hot water.

And there was Logan, taking up half of the space at all times. Each time they had to move, they would touch shoulders, or hips, or elbows. Finn could feel his body heat. They both were sweaty and in desperate need of a shower, but Finn had never wanted to crush himself against someone else more than he did when Logan’s back brushed across his chest as they switched places at the sink.

Finn looked at himself in the mirror. This would have been romantic. Unbearably so. He could picture it so clearly. Calling for ice, popping that half-bottle of champagne in the fridge, complaining a little about how tight a fit the bunk bed would be but losing any and all thoughts of needing extra space when their bodies fit together perfectly after dinner. Dinner in the room? No, Logan would have wanted to watch Finn get dressed up, would have taken him to the dining car, would have pressed their ankles together beneath the table.

Instead, Finn had purple circles beneath his eyes and much darker smudges around his neck. He touched a bruise lightly.

“Sorry,” Logan said. It was the first thing either of them had said in twenty minutes. The first thing at all save for little notes about the room. Fancy. Yes. Tiny shower. Yeah. Nice pillows. Definitely. Logan cleared his throat and gestured to his own neck. He was sitting at the small window booth in front of his sandwich. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Finn said. He took one more look, decided there was really nothing to be done, then sat down across from him. “I wouldn’t have known what to believe, either.”

Logan toyed with the parchment wrapping of his sandwich but didn’t open it.

“Maybe…” Finn swallowed. He looked down at his sandwich, pulling at the sticker that kept the wrappings closed. It looked good. Turkey and lettuce and tomato. “Maybe you still don’t. That’s okay.” At least, Finn was pretty sure Logan wasn’t going to snap and suddenly try to strangle him again while he slept.

They ate in silence, too, watching the sun go down and the world outside turn into racing silhouettes. They had never been this quiet. Not ever.

Finally, Finn couldn’t take it anymore. He turned around to the bar cabinet—so small was the room that he didn’t even have to get up—and took the champagne bottle out of the fridge. He held it up questioningly.

Logan blinked. “Oh. Should we?” 

Finn was exhausted. He was dirty. He was longing, he was ecstatic, he was terrified. “I, personally, need some champagne after today.”

Logan watched Finn in silence as he got out the glasses—flutes so thin that Finn feared they’d shatter in his hands. He thought of the clover rocks glasses back home.

“You know, I never really guessed how much you guys roughed it—I mean, not that the house was rough but.” He began undoing the wire. “It wasn’t this.”

“What house?” Logan asked.

“We were at a place in Athens. No heat. No hot water unless you wanted to burn your skin off.”

“Ouch.”

Finn popped the cork. A sound that felt entirely too merry. The way the bubbles fizzed up and nearly spilled out, the clean chill of the bottle in his hand as he poured. Logan watched and Finn thought of all the bottles they’d shared—Harvard rooftop, fancy room services, their wedding.

The question that had been trying to knock its way into his mind finally surfaced: If they had to start over, could they do it?

“Remus said he was on a boat,” Finn said. “When he woke up.”

Logan nodded. “Me too. But—but not together. I’ve never seen him before. It was me and the crew. They had been out for a month and said they’d been out for another. Their home port wasn’t Greece. They were transporting cargo. They said they found me in the water, thought I was dead or a runaway. Criminal. I don’t…” Logan picked up a piece of tomato that had fallen out of his sandwich and popped it into his mouth. “I don’t think they believed me that I couldn’t remember anything. At least not in the beginning.”

Finn shivered. Logan reached for his glass and inspected the golden liquid.

“So you were at sea for the first month?”

“Yes. Wait.” Logan tilted his head. “How…How long do you think I was gone?”

“Six months.” There was no thinking. Finn took a small sip of champagne, letting the bubbles fill his nose. He watched Logan mirror the gesture. There was nothing gone about it either. It had been so much more than gone.

“You’ve been looking for me for so long,” Logan said.

Looking. Finn wished. He would have done anything to have been looking.

“No,” Finn said. “I thought you were dead the whole time.”

Again—Strange to say that sentence over champagne. This wasn’t exactly a celebration. If Logan was ever to return home—and Finn had pictured it of course—memory had never factored in. Sometimes, he imagined a knock on the door came in the middle of the night. Logan wouldn’t have his key, so a knock made sense, but also other times Finn woke to Logan’s hand on his cheek. I’m right here.

Other times, he got a call from Sirius or James and he had to go and meet them somewhere. Some tarmac, some remote hospital. And there would be Logan, battered but alive and reaching for him.

“The others came home. Without you.” Finn swallowed. He’d never said this aloud. “Without—” 

“Finn. Finn listen.”

He had been able to tell from their faces. The very second. Telling him to sit down.

“Where is he? Where is he? Sirius.”

“Finn…Just sit down for a second. Please, Finn.”

“Where is he, why are you looking at me like that, where is he—”

“And I told your family. And my family. And you…And you were dead.” Finn drew in a breath. He rubbed at his jaw. “And I don’t know how I got through it. I really don’t know how.”

Logan had his head ducked down. Green eyes looking up at him through those lashes, sad and scared and surprised.

“I’m your husband,” Logan said. “And you thought I was dead for six months?”

Finn’s jaw went tight to keep the tears in and he hoped that was answer enough. He got up, rubbing at his eyes, and sat down on his bunk—Logan had already taken the top one when he’d followed him inside the cabin. He just needed a moment. Just a moment. He didn’t want to make Logan feel bad. It wasn’t his fault.

But then the mattress shifted and Logan was settling down right across from him. His green eyes were earnest. His knees almost touched Finn’s.

“Six months.”

“Yeah,” Finn said.

“Oh,” Logan whispered. “Finn.”

Logan said his name almost like he always had. Almost.

“You know, you broke through all of this once before,” Finn said. “In the alley, by the bookshop. Something happened, and then—well you know the rest. You passed out. But for a moment you knew me.”

Leo would probably be trying to coax some information out of Logan just now rather than ogling his eyes, and the way he had eaten his sandwich the same, and how he said Finn’s name.

“Do you know who Pascal is?” Finn asked. “That’s the name you said, and we can’t piece it together.”

Logan frowned. “Non. I said to Leo, I don’t.”

“I know…I know. I just—it’s the only thing you said to me.” And I wanted an ‘I love you’ so badly.

“Am I different?” Logan asked. “I mean…Yes probably. But am I?”

“Of course,” Finn said. “Nothing’s the same. But…I don’t know. You’re…” You. He wasn’t sure how to say it. Not when Logan didn’t know who you was.

“Tell me something,” Logan said. “I want to be able to think I know something about you without it making me want to rip by brain out. Tell me something.”

“Tell me something.”

Logan had pulled the sheets over their heads and it billowed above them like a tent with the Caribbean sunshine lighting him up in bronze.

Finn ran his hands up the back of Logan’s bare thighs, which straddled his hips. “Like what?”

Logan sat back against Finn’s palms, rolling his hips down in a slow push, then grinning at Finn’s gasp. “Like what it’s like being my newly wed.”

“Oh I’m yours, am I?”

Finn’s eyes went down to Logan’s hand. “You lost your wedding ring.”

Logan held out his hand between them, turning it backwards then palm forward again. “Oh.” He looked up at Finn, at the gold around his finger then his eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

Finn shook his head. “No, I didn’t mean…”

“All mine.” Logan’s smile was even in the kiss he pressed to Finn’s mouth. “All mine.”

“What did it look like?”

Finn tilted his head. He said nothing, just waited.

Logan started biting at his lip. That was the first sign. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingertips to his forehead. “Oh fuck. Fuck.”

And then there was the blood. Finn sat there frozen for a moment. This wound, strange and unexplainable, had no place in this memory or talk of their wedding. No place anywhere.

But this was Logan. This was Logan. This was his boy.

“Hey.” Finn reached forward and cradled Logan’s jaw, his other hand brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Shh. Hey, it’s all right, look at me. I’ve got ya, look at me.”

Logan opened his eyes, brows pulled together. His mouth was slack, surprised at Finn’s touch. But he was Logan. Brown waves falling across his forehead. He was so Logan, and he was warm, and so close to Finn’s arms.

“There you go,” Finn said. I’ve got you. I found you. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” 

“I don’t know,” Logan said.

“Let’s do this—You don’t try to remember anything. I just tell you.” He swiped a thumb under Logan’s nose without thinking. “There.”

“I’m sorry, that’s so gross.”

Finn didn’t know how to tell him that nothing about him could possibly seem gross. Loving someone this much, wanting them this badly, didn’t allow room for gross. Finn could’ve crawled in beside Logan’s heart and lived there.

“It’s not,” Finn said. He reached for one of the—very nice—cloth napkins. “See? Fine.”

Logan wiped his face, sniffing, but it looked like the pain had eased up. His eyes were clearer.

“This is the first time you’re seeing—that we’re seeing each other? After…”

Finn nodded, then paused. “If we don’t count the gun holding, sure.”

And there it was. A trace of a smile. Just half a raised corner of his mouth. Finn wanted to crawl inside that, too.

“You didn’t know,” he said before Logan could apologize again.

The bottom bunk felt small. Cozy. Fort-like. Logan folded the red on the napkin out of sight and set it aside. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, rubbed at his eyes. Sleepy. He was tired.

Logan set his mug of tea down, pushed his hands through his hair, rubbed his eyes, and took Finn’s book, tossing it onto the floor and more or less falling into Finn’s chest.

“Sleep,” he mumbled.

Finn was about to ask, tea? when Logan spoke.

“Can I do anything?”

Finn frowned. “What do you mean?”

Logan hesitated. “I mean—we must…” Finn watched the way Logan wet his lips. His eyes darted down to Finn’s mouth. “Six months is a long time to think someone is dead. And we must’ve…kissed.”

Finn stared at him. And stared at him.

And then they were laughing, Logan with a flush on his cheeks.

“Yeah,” Finn laughed. “Yeah, we kiss.”

“Right.”

“You’re asking me if we should kiss?”

Logan shrugged, a hint of a smile back. “I’m—I don’t know. I…I mean. Was I a good…person? Did you miss me?”

“Oh…Oh, Lo.” Finn pressed a palm to Logan’s knee. “Baby, missing doesn’t even begin—I mean—”

Logan’s eyes had widened. “Is that what you call me?”

“I—Sometimes.”

“What else? Maybe I’ll…” Remember.

“Um. Lo. Tremz. Your last name—”

“Tremblay, you said.”

“Right.”

“And…” Logan was leaning forward now. Their knees were touching.

Finn bit his lip. “Yeah. Baby. Mostly Lo.”

Logan’s eyes snapped shut. He put a hand to his forehead. “Ugh.”

“Don’t—”

But Logan waved him off. “What do I call you?”

Rouge.

“Rouge,” Logan whispered. Finn felt a kiss against to his temple, a hand rubbing his back. “Baby, wake up, I have to go. I got called in, give me a kiss, come here.”

Finn fell into his arms when calls were sudden. He didn’t let go all the way to the door. Never managed to crawl back into bed after. Slept on the couch for the first day or two, hoping that the front door opened and—“Rouge? I’m home, baby, where are you, where are you?”

No. He only wanted to hear Rouge again if—when Logan remembered.

“Lots of French things that I would just butcher. And sometimes Harzy, though that was mostly a college thing. Harzy because O’Hara. My name.”

“College.”

“Harvard. That’s how we met.”

Logan flinched hard, but he kept his eyes open. No blood. “The library.”

“Yeah,” Finn said softly. “The library.”

Logan pushed himself up from the bed. He rubbed at his eyes again. “This is so—God, it’s like I can—it’s like I know that I don’t know. So I should know.” He pressed his hands to either side of the sink. “Does that make any sense at all?”

“I think so. I can’t imagine what this is like for you but…I sort of make it a point of my life to make sense of you.”

Logan stayed quiet. He kept his gaze down, brow furrowed in pain. Finn would’ve given anything to know what he was thinking.

“I don’t want this to hurt you,” Finn said. “Maybe we should—do you want to sleep?”

Logan kept his eyes closed for another moment, then shook his head. “I think I want to shower first.”

Finn settled against the spark of familiarity. Of course. He should have known that.

“Then champagne,” Logan said. When Finn looked at him, he had that half-smile in place again.

“I’ll keep a spoon in it, then,” Finn said. He smiled, too, and then he realized all over again that he was smiling at Logan and he had to blink a couple times and pick up his glass to keep it together.

“Good,” Logan said, and then he peaked into the bathroom quickly before pulling his shirt over his head.

“Oh—” Finn dropped the glass. It bounced on the carpet but didn’t break. The champagne splashed over his feet.

Logan’s eyes met his in the mirror, surprised momentarily before he understood.

He had a round scar on the back of his shoulder, another near his lower back, and a third that grazed where his neck met the hard muscle of his shoulder. In the mirror, there were matching scars on his chest and stomach.

Logan touched the scar on his neck, gnarled like it had grazed the skin but left a gaping wound. I saw it, James had said. I saw it, they got him in the head.

Finn inhaled sharply at the thought, the memory of trying to picture it alone in their dark London flat. He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. Logan was still there. Still looking at him.

“Sorry,” Finn said. “I wasn’t—I didn’t think about…” It was a bit of a joke, really. After so long picturing it, how had it not even occurred to him that Logan’s body would have scars?

“Not very pretty, hm?” Logan said quietly. He ran a quick hand over his chest. He had a slight tan line at his neck and wrist, like he spent a lot of time outdoors. “I was maybe better when you last knew me.”

Finn wanted to touch him. The bullets looked like stage makeup. Movie set. Sort of like how all the guns looked to him. Like they’d shoot bubbles and air. Like Logan would emerge from the shower and the pink puckers of skin would be gone.

“Logan,” Finn said softly.

Logan would have asked quoi? had he even recognized how he used to speak. Instead he just turned towards him.

“Can I…” Finn realized he was reaching forward. Just a little.

Logan looked at his hands. He set down his crumpled shirt and faced him. “So there is something I can do.”

Finn nodded quickly. The tears were rising in his throat. “Right now, it’s just this.”

Logan let Finn come to him. Their movements were so careful at first, but the moment Logan’s chest was pressed against Finn’s sweater something snapped. He let out a harsh breath and put a scar under his palm like he could protect it.

Finn turned his head into the soft warm place, the nook of his neck. Finn’s place. Logan liked to be kissed there, and God did Finn almost do it, right over the other scar. He just held on, the familiarity of the broad shoulders beneath his hands making him feel airy, almost like he was going to pass out. But then Logan’s arms were around him, too, more hesitant than he would have been before. Lighter in touch. Discovering. He let out a little breath that Finn felt against his shoulder. Logan’s shoulders relaxed.

“Silver.” Logan pushed harder into Finn’s hold. “The ring was silver, wasn’t it?”

Finn kept his tears quiet this time, soft against his cheeks as he nodded. He drew back just enough to pull Logan’s fleur-de-lis from around his own neck and place it around Logan’s. It caught on his curls briefly before settling on his bare chest. “Silver like this.”

“What…” Logan looked down at it. His rested his temple against Finn’s shoulder and picked up the pendant.

“It’s yours,” Finn said. He touched Logan’s fingertips and the warming metal. “Wear it. It might help.”

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

One: Finn

King’s College

London, England

“So, to wrap up…”

It was nearly a half hour too early, but Finn was tired. This class wasn’t clicking with him, not like his 11:00 o’clock. Maybe it was because it was nearly Christmas holidays. Not even a week left. The students were sluggish. They were giddy. They wanted to go home so badly—homemade meals and presents and holiday markets—that it didn’t even occur to them to think anything other than that Professor O’Hara would want to do the same.

Finn didn’t want to go home. Home wasn’t there to go to. Just a building now. Just a room.

“Um.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I know this is the last reading of the semester guys, but let’s at least try to be a little comprehensive. Austen is badass, okay?” They laughed. Somehow, swearing always worked to crack open a class’ shell. And Finn was an expert. “Give the ending what it deserves.”

He looked up when no one said anything. Hands were on bags, poised to go, and it ticked something wrong inside of him. He wanted out, too, but he didn’t know where. “All right. See you on Wednesday for our final class.”

Even before he finished speaking, people were leaping out of their chairs. He’d expect half attendance. Tops. He tried to clean up his desk quickly. Tried not to forget anything here.

You’re always leaving something, mon amour, aren’t you?

“Professor O’Hara?”

Finn looked up. “Oh, hey, Martha.”

Martha. He could always count on Martha. She was a third year, took almost all of his classes. She was smart, if not a little eager and quick to cut her classmates off.

“I just wanted to say that I won’t be here on Wednesday. I have a pretty long way to go, and the flight was cheaper. I hope you don’t think I’m ditching.”

He could almost always count on Martha.

“Nah, of course not.” Finn picked up his books. “Have a good break.”

“Thanks. Um. And this is for you.”

She was holding out a tin. Cookies, probably. Or, biscuits, as they called them here. It was always something with her. Last year, she’d given him a scarf and he really had thought he’d have to sit her down and firmly say that, not only was he her teacher, but he had a husband.

Finn almost laughed. Almost.

Mon Rouge, they all have crushes on you. Don’t even pretend you don’t know that. Hands in his hair, familiar mouth on his cheek. But you always come home to me. All for me?

“Thanks that’s really kind of you.” He dredged up a smile. He took the tin. “Happy holidays.”

“Are you and your husband doing anything special?”

A strange cotton-buzz started up in his ears.

Martha blinked, a little confused, and pointed tentatively at the background on Finn’s phone, which had lit up with an email.

“That’s your husband right? You always mention him—or—sometimes you do. And he came to our class once, remember? Last year. I think he’d just gotten back from a business trip and he surprised you. It was so cute, everyone was talking about it for ages.”

Finn remembered that. Logan had been gone for a month. A month. Remember when he thought a month of spaced out phone-calls from strange numbers was difficult to deal with? Last week, someone had gotten a wrong number at 9:30 at night and Finn had sobbed himself to exhaustion on the kitchen floor. Hope was stubborn, it was so stubborn.

“Yes,” Finn said. “I remember.”

He stared at the phone background. Logan, early in the morning. About a year and a half ago now, Finn had received a ticket to Spain with a little heart drawn on it. It had brought him straight to Logan and the most luxurious hotel he’d ever set eyes on. Private suit. Private pool. A whole week, just the two of them. No sudden phone calls, no pulling the go-bag out from the back of their closet, no apologetic smiles, and no last kisses that Finn knew, despite all of his efforts, would fade eventually.

Logan, early in the morning. On the balcony, softer than the sunrise. Oh, that smile. Finn couldn’t do this. How was he doing this alone?

He needed to start telling people. More than their families, people in his daily life. He had been given a story by the agency and everything. It was the story given to Logan’s family. His parents. His three older sisters. God, Noelle’s voice on the phone, the two of them crying to each other. The one Finn had stumbled through for his brother Alex and his parents. He needed to. Logan Tremblay had died in a freak accident while overseas for work. He’d been killed on impact and had felt no pain. He had died overseas. Finn had seen the body, that was how the story went. Finn had seen it off the plane and he’d correctly identified him.

But there had been no body.

Only silence, which felt just as dead.

“I don’t know.” Martha shrugged. “Beach trip?”

Finn managed to shake his head. “No.” He swallowed. He put his hand against his chest. Logan’s necklace rested there. It was a ritual that he guessed was dead, too. Logan put the fleur-de-lis pendant, silver, around Finn’s neck every time he left. Finn placed it back around Logan’s every time Logan came home. “The usual.” That wasn’t really an answer at all. “Family.”

“Oh, lovely.”

He was planning on going to New York. His brother Alex and his family would be there. His parents. He thought his mom’s sister, too, maybe. What he would do there, he didn’t know. It would all be absences. One after another. Oh God.

“Have a great vacation, Martha,” Finn said. He grabbed his phone, and his notes, not bothering to even put them back in his bag. The tin of cookies. “Don’t worry about next class. You’re ahead anyway.” He didn’t know if that was true.

In his office, Finn shrugged into his jacket. He paused, looking at the green scarf on his office’s coatrack.

Two hands pulling him in.

“I didn’t know you were back,” Finn said against Logan’s mouth.

“No one ever knows where I am.” Logan smiled into their kiss. “That’s kind of the point.”

Finn came to—and it was like that, like waking up from a horrible sleep every time—from the force of catching himself with his palm against his desk. His chest hurt. He should tell someone about this. About losing time like this to memories he knew better than his own present. The tears came like this sometimes, too, unstoppable. He sent a glance towards the the small window in his door, but the blind was shut. He kept it that way now for this exact reason. The first breath heaved out of him and he sucked it right back in, dropping to a knee.

Happy holidays, happy holidays, happy holidays.

It was cold enough to feel like Christmas was coming. Finn hoped he didn’t look too horrible in the evening light as he made his way towards the Underground. His bag felt heavy and his eyes still felt warm from crying. Had it been crying? Part of him wondered—and sometimes he dreamed—that he was reliving Logan’s death somehow. Like if Logan had had to go through something, he needed to go through it, too. Maybe he had drowned. Or suffocated. Killed by someone? An accident? A cover-up, dragged through an backroad, buried in a shallow grave—Finn was about to get pulled under again, hand already against the brick wall, when a voice said his name.

He looked up, the wind brushing his hair off of his forehead. It was snowing, he realized, very lightly, and he had to blink against it to see who had called to him.

He actually didn’t recognize them at first. He supposed that was their job. Shifting shadows. A million different identities at once, depending on what they wanted a target to see. Not that he was a target. Their clothes were unimpressive, nothing to be remembered. No long dark coats, no hats. James didn’t have his glasses on and Sirius’ black hair was ruffling back in the wind. He might remember how handsome they both were, if he was a stranger.

But he wasn’t. Those were Logan’s team members, and Finn wasn’t supposed to know that.

Finn couldn’t look them directly in the eye as he approached. They waited for him.

“What are you doing here?” Finn asked. Logan?Logan?Logan?

James said nothing, but Sirius took something out of his pocket and handed it to Finn.

It was a photograph of Remus Lupin. Remus. Finn had really liked Remus, and so—he looked up at grey eyes—had Sirius.

“This was captured on a bank security camera in Athens,” Sirius said.

That’s where Remus and Logan had been. Accident. Not recovered. No more information. Back road? Shallow grave? Shot in the back of the head? Bruised wrists from tight ropes? Plastic bag struggle—

“What,” Finn began but had to cut off. It was happening—was it? Again. The panic. The sick sadness. The air just…went. Disappeared. Just like Logan. “Does this tell us what happened?”

He couldn’t stand the way Sirius hesitated. He reached out and gripped his arm. He didn’t feel like a ghost like Finn had expected him to.

“Does this tell us how they…” Finn whispered.

James stepped forward, hazel eyes looking so different without his glasses. “It was taken five days ago, Finn.”

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

Five: Finn

Church Ruin

Athens, Greece

Finn couldn’t look away. He had bundled Logan in both of their coats, one unzipped and pulled up higher to cushion his head against the rough stone of the wall. He’d used one of Leo’s alcohol packets to clean his face. Everything was the same. The brush of his long eyelashes against his cheek, the tilt of his head against the wall and the soft curl of his fingers into his palm. The warm olive of his skin. The sound of his breathing in his sleep—or whatever this was. If Finn blinked, Logan was going to disappear again.

He kept choking up. Kept crying, silent, and then wiping at his cheeks when the wind chilled his tears. He kept touching Logan, careful to let him rest but needed to feel his warm skin. He wanted to crawl inside those doubled coats, press his cheek against his chest, listen to his heartbeat.

“Anything new?”

Finn sniffed from the cold as Leo crouched down beside him. He shook his head. “No. Just this.”

Leo made a sympathetic sound. “It’s good that you’re staying close to him. But I wanted to tell you, the boys think we should head to one of the islands. Hide out until we can figure out how to reach Remus. We can’t lie low here very well, not in a city.”

“But how…” The fear seized him again, his throat constricting. “Leo, what if he doesn’t wake up?”

“He will,” Leo said.

“What if he doesn’t know me when he does?”

“I hope he will.”

“What if he needs a doctor? What if he dies?”

“No,” Leo said. “I won’t let him.”

“You’re not a doctor. You’re a lot of things but you’re not that.”

“Don’t I know it, but they’ll be watching the hospitals, Finn. We can’t.”

Finn looked over at him. Leo’s face was taut, blue eyes taking Logan in. His eyes, his mouth, his hair, his hands. Finn liked that. He liked watching Leo look at Logan like that. Like he understood how precious Logan was. Logan could come across as a little rude, a little quiet, a little harsh. Sometimes Finn felt alone at the occasional faculty party Logan made it to. Like no one would ever understand how wonderful Logan was. His colleagues would clear their throat a little, taken aback after the initial attractive charm of how handsome Logan was. But Leo looked like he knew. Leo did know.

“I never thought I’d see him again,” Leo said in a small voice.

Finn nodded. He couldn’t speak, but he reached out and put his hand over Leo’s. Leo looked down at it. Slowly, he turned his hand around so that their palms fit together and their fingers laced. Finn squeezed hard, knowing they were both only trying to make sense of it all. It felt good to have something to hold onto.

“You know those notes,” Leo said, still looking down. “Your notes, in the hall at home? I mean, at your flat?”

Finn nodded again. He’d hardly been able to look at them but he hadn’t been able to take them down, either. Logan had framed them as a present after their wedding. Their little love confessions. Finn joked that they had said it more officially than that. Whispered into each other’s mouths after two years of knowing each other, wanting each other, kissing and kissing and kissing for the first time in the dark third floor of a Harvard library. He’d woken up the next morning, peaked just one eye open, to find Logan balancing a note on his bedside table against his water glass before sneaking out for his eight AM. He’d closed his eye in time to feel Logan, thinking he was still asleep, press the most tender kiss to his forehead.

“I don’t like that he doesn’t know they’re there,” Leo said.

Finn realized his eyes had closed, the ghost of the kiss laying over him like snow.

Framed love. In the lonely apartment. He had a photo of Logan somewhere, grinning crookedly as he put the nails in the walls, fresh off their honeymoon, tanned from the beach, hair honey highlighted by the sun. Sentimental. So sentimental.

Leo’s silhouette standing in the hallway, usually taking his coat off or putting it back on, was just as clear an image. Logan’s voice from the kitchen. Leo—Lay-oh, the way he said it. Finn loved every fucking sound out of his mouth—Leo, I’m burning your instructions, this water won’t boil. Leo, in no hurry, re-reading every word. Sometimes Finn wondered if he could tell what sentence, which frame, he was reading from just by the tilt of his head. Logan’s I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m yours now, or his own, I’ve loved you for so long, baby. So long.

“I know,” Finn whispered. He squeezed Leo’s hand again. He thought of Leo pressed all along his back after realizing that Logan was alive and had no idea who he was. “Hopefully…Hopefully we’ll all get to go home soon and all of this will just be a memory.” He sighed, watching Logan breathe. “One that we all remember and can all let fade.”

Leo’s thumb brushed over Finn’s knuckles. “Finn?”

“Hm?” Finn reached out again, pushing the top of the coat zipper away from Logan’s cheek. The metal would be cold. Logan was perfectly still. Finn looked up, though, when Leo stayed quiet. He had watched the gesture. “Yeah?”

Leo blinked. Shook his head. “Never mind. Um.” He pulled his hand away from Finn’s. “Fuck, okay, look.” Leo reached into his jacket and took out a gun. It was small, smaller than the ones Finn watched Leo and the others strap to their hips and backs.

“Whoa,” Finn said.

“I want you to take this,” Leo said.

Finn stared at the pistol. “Leo, I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to shoot that.”

Leo frowned. His eyes darted to Logan. “I always thought Logan might teach you.”

Finn shook his head. “No. I mean, we tossed the idea around, but we never…You know.” Finn shrugged one shoulder. “I was his break from it all.”

“Well, not anymore. Not after Jack. Take it now.” Leo put the gun into Finn’s hand. “Look. This is the safety. Keep that on at all times. And this—”

In the next moment, there was a tight pressure around his neck and Finn found the air knocked from his lungs as he was yanked backwards. For the second time that day, the mouth of the gun was pressed against him. His temple this time.

“Move and I kill him,” Logan’s voice said from behind him, right next to his ear.

“Lo,” Finn gasped out, clutching at Logan’s arm. Blood rushed in his ears at the pressure against his throat. He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know you. “Lo, please—”

“You,” Logan said, and Leo’s blue eyes widened, his hands raised away from his weapons. “What do you want from me?”

“We don’t want to hurt you, Logan,” Leo said and Finn was surprised by how even his voice came out. “Please don’t hurt him. Please, you don’t want to hurt him.” Leo’s eyes flicked nervously to Finn’s, and Finn clutched harder at Logan’s arm, coughing.

Holding onto Logan’s arm so tight, the music beginning. Trying not to watch his mom dabbing at her eyes. Logan’s soft smile when they faced each other at the top of the aisle. “You don’t have to hold on so tight, Rouge. I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

“Tell me who you are,” Logan said. The cold metal dug into Finn’s cheek. “Tell me. Why are they after me?”

“We’re your friends, Logan. Your teammates. We’re trying to figure that out, too,” Leo said. “You’re not alone. They’re after Remus, too. Do you know Remus?”

“Non,” Logan said.

Leo tried again, hesitantly. “Pascal?”

Finn badly wished he could see Logan’s face. All he could stare at was Leo’s blue eyes. Leo shook his head softly. “No? That’s alright.”

“Non. I…I don’t know—I don’t know anything,” Logan said, and Finn’s chest ached.

“We’ll help you,” Finn managed to say, and it was so stupid to feel relieved to be settled against Logan’s chest even with a gun to his head, but he was. “Logan, we’ll help you—”

But then he was being shoved forward, momentarily on his side before Logan had thrown a leg over his hips, pinning him to the ground with the gun right over his heart.

“You’re the one trying to get close,” Logan said. God, how many times had Logan looked down at him just like this, how many times had he been a weight over Finn, just like this…but not like this at all. “My husband. I don’t even know I was—”

Gay, was perhaps what he was about to say. Or, in younger Logan fashion, like that. Finn felt like he’d been slammed back nine years. Back to the very beginning. A reluctant Logan. A confused Logan. A young Logan, scared to admit to all the different ways he wanted Finn. Logan’s mouth pressed into a thin line, keeping the word in just like he used to. Finn had spent a good two years watching as Logan began to smile while using it—or at least, something like that word.

All I know is that I want a Finn O’Hara, Logan had laughed into his mouth that perfect summer. New York City. Burning sunset and dinner on a boat, humidity curling Logan’s hair and after dinner drinks on a rooftop. Before the agency had spotted Logan. Before any of it. And a Finn O’Hara wants me.

He still wants you, Finn wished he could say. I still want you. Do you still want me?

“My phone,” Finn whispered. “My phone, in my pocket.” He moved his eyes down to his left. “Right there.”

Logan looked, and Finn took the instant to look back at Leo, upside-down, and give his head a small shake. He won’t hurt me. Finn knew it in his bones. He can’t hurt me.

“You can’t trick me with—”

“You don’t have to open it,” Leo said. “Just look at the screensaver.”

That was better, Finn thought. He was going to have Logan look at pictures of their wedding, but this was better. It felt raw. Finn loved that photo. He hoped Logan could somehow feel that. Or even remember it. What had he done before? How had he broken through and why had it caused so much pain?

Logan, without moving the gun, dug into Finn’s pocket for the phone. Finn felt his hands search for weapons, too, briefly. Logan’s eyes caught on his when he found him completely unarmed. Finn couldn’t see the screen, but he could see Logan’s face as he took it in: Himself, soft as sunset. His brows drew together and he stared, and stared. When the screen went black, he tapped it to see the photo again.

“That’s you,” Finn said. “It’s you.”

Tentatively, Finn tried to sit up. It was a mistake. Logan flinched hard, renewing the angle of the gun, which had drifted some in distraction. He dropped the phone and pinned Finn’s hands above his head. He looked more panicked than before.

“Why don’t I know you? I should know you if that’s real—”

“It is,” Finn pleaded. He tried to free his hands. If he could just touch him. “Please, Lo, it’s me. It’s Finn.”

Logan was fighting him, gun digging in, hand back around Finn’s throat, but Finn didn’t care. He didn’t care.

“Finn.” Leo’s voice sounded far away. Panicked, but far away. “Stop. Stop it.”

“Harvard,” Finn choked out. He kept his eyes locked on Logan’s green ones. “Harvard, the third floor of the library.”

“What?” Logan said. “Who are you—” But he’d winced. Finn saw it, he winced.

Finn let out a low noise and renewed his efforts, settling all the strength he could find into keeping himself from shaking. The fact that it was a gun was beginning to settle in. Mostly though, he was afraid for Logan. Afraid he would do something that, if he ever came back to himself, he would regret.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Leo pleaded. “And you’re not our captive. Just let him talk to you, Logan—”

But Finn knew better than that. Logan was stubborn. When he had something set in his mind, it took months to undo it—sometimes years. Not minutes, especially not on such uneven ground as this. Finn would have to try and trip his wires again, jump him right back into himself, even if only for a few more seconds.

“The hot chocolate machine,” Finn said. “Third floor. Harvard. Library. You love it, I think it’s disgusting but you loved it and I brought you some while I was helping you study. The English was hard for you back then.”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them wide again, like he had double vision.

“You know,” Finn said. You know. It’s in there. “Before you could speak ten languages.”

“Finn,” Leo said. “This isn’t the way. It’s hurting him.”

“I don’t speak ten languages,” Logan bit out.

Leo said something fast in a language Finn couldn’t even begin to identify. Russian? Logan’s eyes snapped up. He’d understood.

“I know it’s confusing,” Leo began to say, but then Logan was looking at Finn again.

“The library,” Logan repeated.

“Yes.” Finn wrapped his fingers around Logan’s wrist, the hand on his neck. He realized he was nodding, almost frantically. He could see them in that memory. Standing close together in the tiny, freezing corner with the vending machine. The flimsy paper cup filled with steaming, powdery hot chocolate. “I said, that’s too fucking sweet. I said that I didn’t know how you could stand it…And you said—”

“I’m—” Logan began, and then cut off. His eyes were wide, searching Finn’s face. It wasn’t the recognition that he’d seen before, not the real knowing, but it was something. It was finishing Finn’s sentence.

I’m sweet. I’m sweet.

And then Finn had kissed him for the first time. Terrified. Not sure Logan even wanted him to. But they had spent what felt like an eternity kissing in that freezing corner, alone on the library’s third floor. So long that all of the censored lights shut off and thrown them into blissful darkness—was that the same darkness at the edges of his vision now? Finn tried to blink the spots away. Air. He needed air.

Logan’s eyes fell shut, lips pulling back to reveal teeth grit in pain. He dropped his forehead to Finn’s chest. Finn realized he was sweating, they both were, despite the chill in the air.

And then Logan was gone. His weight, the warmth, the gun, the hand around his throat.

Finn coughed hard. Bitter bile in his throat, something rushing in his ears. His pulse maybe. His blood. Leo knelt beside him, tumbling against his side.

“Finn—” Leo began to say, but Finn was already pushing himself up, terrified, terrified that Logan would already be running. His back hurt. His head throbbed where it had hit against the stone, and Logan, Logan, Logan, gone again gone—

But he wasn’t. Logan had pressed himself back into the stone corner where he had been sleeping. He looked feverish, but he was looking at Finn so carefully that Finn didn’t dare move.

“Logan?” Finn whispered.

“What’s happening to me?” Logan looked down at the gun, like he had forgotten he was holding it.

“You’re memory, it’s been—wiped? Or something,” Leo said gently. “It’s not your fault. Logan, it isn’t your fault. You and Remus, we thought you both were dead. We only just found you.” Leo let out a shaky sigh. “We’re trying to figure out what happened, too.”

Logan just stared at Leo. “I can see the library. But I don’t remember…I don’t understand.”

“Me neither,” said a voice from behind them, and both Leo and Finn whipped around. It was like seeing ghosts. With the stone and the sea and the crumbling church, it was right out of a novel.

Remus was standing there, leaning against a far wall on the sea-side of the church. The wind coming off the water beat at his tawny hair and the brown, old looking jacket he wore.

“Remus,” Leo breathed.

“How do you know my name,” Remus said. He held no weapon that Finn could see, but the very sight of him held both Leo and Finn in place well enough, “but I don’t know yours?”

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

(cw in tags if you wish)

Five: Sirius

Athens, Greece

Sirius wasn’t reckless. He thought before he did—probably too much sometimes. He kept himself in line. Maybe it was a product of a strict upbringing. A smack on the cheek or hand at one wrong move. He used to think it was what made him so good for the agency. Salazar liked strict. They liked obedient. James, therefore, hadn’t quite made sense to Sirius as a candidate, at least not in the beginning. Not until he showed Sirius that it wasn’t just about following orders. It was about heart, too. Camaraderie. Remus had shown him that, too. Still, Sirius couldn’t always shake that rule-following kid.

But if Remus was on the rooftops getting shot at by Jack Archer, who had just been holding a gun to Logan and Finn’s heads, all bets were off.

Jack was smart though. He took Sirius right through the now bustling Christmas market. Small children strapped the the chests of fathers. Women in groups laughing and catching up over coffee. Carolers by a central fountain. Sirius caught glimpses of alarmed eyes as he ran, always keeping the back of Jack’s head just in sight. He tried not to add to the mess on the street, narrowly avoiding the cart Jack had carelessly rolled into his path. He sprinted past the pissed vendor. He knew he should hide his gun. Lights blurred beside him and the sun came out from behind a cloud, then went again. His feet pounded the pavement. The streets narrowed. Jack stumbled on the stones in front of a cafe, sending cups shattering to the cobblestones and making a shop owner run out and shout at him. For a second, Sirius thought he was going to catch up. He swiped forward at the fabric of Jack’s shirt, but Jack rolled and then was up on his feet again. Sirius lunged. He didn’t care who was watching. He didn’t care if they saw his gun. His arms wrapped around Jack’s waist and they both hit the cobblestones hard, rolling into another table. Sirius felt something hot splash against his neck, something sharp dig into the skin of his wrist.

Jack was up again in a moment, using a hard kick to Sirius’ ribs to knock the wind out of him. Sirius gasped, coughing as he scrambled up from the ground and away from the alarmed onlookers. He yanked the shard of ceramic out of his arm. Jack slipped around a bend in the street—but this was one Sirius recognized. He’d chased Remus—or the ghost of Remus—right into this corner.

When he held his gun up on Jack, Jack’s hands were around the bars of the very gate Sirius had run into their first day here.

“Dead end, Archer,” Sirius said. “Now tell me why you’re here.”

Jack at least knew when he’d been caught. His shoulders moved quickly, breathing hard as he rested his forehead against the gate.

“Did you know?” Sirius could hardly say the words. “Did you know they were alive?”

“Sirius—”

“Get the fuck down,” Sirius said, striding closer until they were both hidden in the alleyway. He risked a glance behind him. “On your knees.”

Jack went, knocking the damp hair out of his face with a jerk of his head. Sirius could see both of their breath fogging between them. “We didn’t know. Not until Leo found Remus.”

“And you want them dead.”

Jack’s mouth formed a thin line.

Sirius didn’t have time for this. His mind kept skipping back, trying to figure out who had been shooting from the roof. RemusRemusRemus.

“Why?” Sirius asked. “Why do you want them dead? They’re our own, what changed? And I swear to God, answer me, or I’ll bring you to James.”

James was sweet. James was funny. James was relaxed and kind and easy-going.

James could also get information out of anyone. He was their top interrogator, had been since the academy. How do you do it? Sirius had once asked. Sirius had never liked seeing terrified faces up close. James had gotten a sad, faraway look on his face. I pretend they have Lily. And Harry. And then I don’t feel so guilty. I just want them to talk. I make them talk.

Jack seemed to have heard the rumors because he paled. “Listen. This is Salazar. You’re here to find them and bring them in. That’s all I’m here for, too.”

Sirius thought briefly of telling Jack about Logan’s memory, but Remus’ careful hazel eyes filled his mind. Unsure. Untrusting.

“Why pull the gun?”

Jack’s eyebrow arched. “Tremblay was holding a gun on his own husband. Who, by the way…” Jack made a scornful sound. “Should not be here.”

It was Sirius’ turn to stay silent. It was a sensible response, but that didn’t mean Sirius believed him.

“What,” Jack laughed a little. “You think we wouldn’t know?”

“I couldn’t stop him.”

“Liar.”

“That makes two of us, then,” Sirius said. “Why are you here?”

“Is he turned?” Jack asked in a hushed voice, eyes dark. “Is Lupin?”

“Turned where? By who?”

Jack shook his head slowly. “Liar.”

“I’m not.” Sirius swallowed over a dry throat. At least, not entirely. Pascal. Pascal, whoever he was.

“You don’t want to get on our bad side, Black,” Jack said. His hand twitched, maybe towards a knife, and Sirius stretched his gun forward. Jack’s smile was tight. “I think Tremblay’s enough proof of that.”

Sirius stared at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

Jack opened his mouth to answer, but stopped as though his words had frozen in his mouth. He snapped his lips shut, then a strained cough escaped. A twitch went through his body, almost like a pulse of electricity, and he sat back against his heels. Sirius hesitated, watching Jack blink fast at the cobblestones before raising his eyes to Sirius.

“Who the hell are you?” Jack asked, eyes darting between the two guns. He scrambled backwards, the gate rattling when it hit his back. “What the hell?”

Sirius froze. He clicked the safety off on his own gun. “Don’t bullshit me, Archer.”

Jack blinked at him, eyes unfocused. “I…”

Another twitch, a strange pulse through his body. Jack gasped. A thin trickle of blood ran from his nose. He swayed where he was, and his hands went to his head. “Ah—” Sirius watched his face screw up in pain. Jack stared up at him. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Jack—” Sirius began to say, but then Jack fell against the pavement, as suddenly as if someone had pushed him, with a harsh thud.

Sirius felt something cold squeeze around his throat. Dread, maybe. Adrenaline. Slowly, he lowered the guns, tucking one into his belt and swinging the other behind him, doing a quick scan of what little of the street he could see. He raised it up towards the roofs, then crouched in front of Jack.

His eyes were open, lips parted, blood quickly drying on his skin. He was dead.

“Jesus,” Sirius whispered. “Jesus, fuck—” His hand went for his radio, and then he paused. It was Salazar’s radio.

If anyone had told Sirius just a week ago that that would make him pause, he would have laughed.

Sirius checked Jack’s pulse—nothing—and then cursed as he heaved his body up against the wall as best he could. There was no point in trying to move him, not with the city waking up. Someone would have to find him like this. Sirius turned Jack’s collar up, closed his eyes, and took the wires off of him. He took his knives—all the ones he could feel anyway—and the second, small gun he found tucked into his boot.

He walked in the opposite direction of the cafes, towards the still mostly sleeping residential streets. There had been no blood, not that much anyway, but Sirius checked his hands and front before calling out to a man sweeping the steps in front of his house with a cigarette between his teeth.

The man didn’t put up much of a fight, just handed Sirius his cellphone before waving him off and going back to the chore.

The line picked up immediately.

“Lion den,” Sirius said into the tone. It was their secure line. If Salazar knew about it, they’d be dead, but Finn’s tracker wasn’t the first illegal backup Leo had set up. James hadn’t seen the point, hadn’t seen what they’d ever have to hide any comms, but Leo had insisted. Now, Sirius was glad. After Archer and Remus and Logan, he didn’t know who to trust. A headache was building at the back of his skull.

“We’re not at the house,” Leo said instead of hello. “After Archer, I didn’t think we should go back there.”

“He’s dead,” Sirius said.

He heard Leo’s sharp inhale. “Sirius—”

“It wasn’t me,” Sirius said. “We were running, I got him. And then he didn’t recognize me all of a sudden. A minute later, he was dead.”

Sirius’ heart was going so hard he had to press a hand there. The sweeping man didn’t even look up. The gray light hurt his eyes.

“Where are you?” Sirius asked. “Leo. Are you all together?”

“He’s dead?” Leo asked. “But—how? And what do you mean he didn’t recognize you?”

“I don’t know, I thought he was fucking with me, because maybe he knew Logan—but how would he know Logan couldn’t remember? I…” Sirius pressed at his eyes. It was as though someone was shining a spotlight right in his eyes. It ached. “I don’t know, Le. Where are you? Where are you?”

“Sirius,” Leo said. “I can’t find—I can’t find you.”

“What?”

“I can’t find you—Jesus, here, I’m dropping this number our coordinates—but Sirius, your tracker’s offline.”

Sirius felt the phone vibrate with the incoming text. He looked, memorizing quickly. It would disappear entirely in a minute, erasing itself.

“He didn’t recognize you?” Leo asked. “He didn’t…”

“Leo,” Sirius said, and then dropped to a knee. God, his very bones ached. His skull.

“Oh God,” Leo said faintly, and then, a little farther away from the phone, he shouted. “James!”

Sirius ducked away from the gray light. The cold wind. His head was killing him. “Fuck.”

“Eh!” The man stopped sweeping, looking at him. He said something fast in Greek, but Sirius was hopeless to translate just then.

“Sirius,” Leo said, voice closer now. “You’re tracker. Cut it out right now.”

“What?” Sirius asked.

“Cut out your tracker right now,” Leo shouted. “You said Jack forgot and then he was dead, there’s nothing that would cause that except—” Leo cut off with a short cry.

“Leo?” Sirius said.

He heard Finn’s voice in the background. Leo! Oh my God—

Then Leo’s. Cut it out, Finn. Right there, remember, feel it? Finn, stop fucking staring, do it, do it, it’s going to kill me and James—

“Finish?” the man asked him, alarmed. He was holding out his hand for his phone, but didn’t look like he wanted to get much closer to Sirius. “Hey, finish? Finish?”

“Help,” Sirius said. “Please—” He pulled the Greek out but he didn’t know how. Autopilot, maybe. “Sir, please may I use your bathroom? It’s life or death.”

The man began to shake his head, but Sirius didn’t have time—he shouldn’t have even asked. The man shouted as Sirius hauled himself up and stumbled past him. He shouldered through the small, wooden door and found himself in a living room—tidy and smelling of cinnamon and coffee. It connected right with the kitchen, not unlike their safe house. The dim lamp by the sofa stung his eyes, glaring as if it were a sun. Sirius blinked hard, looking for something sharp, anything.

“Hey!” The man tried to grab his shoulder, but Sirius shook him off easily. There was a knife, small, laying beside a sliced lemon. Sirius grabbed it and all but fell against the sink. A small vase on the window sill above slipped and shattered into the basin.

The man’s protests was no more than a ringing in Sirius’ ear as he groped at the back of his own neck. What the hell are you doing? Are you insane? Are you sick? Hey, my wife and children will be back soon, come on, brother, don’t scare them. Put the knife down, put the knife down—

There. Sirius felt the bump. Was he imagining that it was hot to the touch? It didn’t matter.

He didn’t even feel the pain of the blade. His adrenaline was so high that it felt like nothing at all. Butter. A slip. Only the red on his hands let him know that he had succeeded. That, and the small, pill-like chip clutched between his fingers.

The pain evaporated and Sirius drew in a ragged breath.

No sooner had he dropped the tracker into the sink than did it let out a high-pitched sound and crack itself in half.

His hearing returned. He blinked his vision back to normal. He worked the pressure out of his jaw. The tracker released a thin trail of smoke.

Sirius, he tested. Sirius Black. He knew himself. He knew the coordinates.

When he turned, breathing hard and sweating, he grabbed an old, dirty looking cloth and pressed it to his neck. It didn’t look like anyone would miss it. The man was simply staring at him, eyes darting between his face and the device in the sink.

“Thank you.” Sirius breathed the words out. Greek, or at least half way there. “I am sorry. I am sorry.”

Without another word, Sirius raced out the door.

+++

The coordinates were an abandoned building right on the coast. Sirius could smell the salt. The cold air was made colder by damp. He had stopped the bleeding of his neck and turned up his collar to keep the rag in place. Everything felt wet and slippery now. Recent rain on the rocks beneath his feet as he walked up an old pathway.

There was nothing inside, it was merely a somewhat reasonable roof of their heads. Shelter, nothing more. Just broken down boards and stone walls now.

To anyone else, it looked empty.

Sirius whistled two notes.

Two notes returned from his left where the sea and horizon bled into each other, framed by a still standing window. It could have been a painting. A TV.

James appeared in front of it, wild hair haloed by the light.

“Fuck,” James said, and then they were hugging. Sirius face ended up near a slightly pink bandage on James’ neck, and he sighed his relief all over again.

“Fuck me, we had a bomb in our head the whole time, Si.” James reached up and brushed the bandage with light fingers. “Just an average day on the job.” His eyes went to Sirius’ neck. “What did you do it with?”

“Fucking kitchen knife, man. You?”

James’ laugh was shaky. “One of my daggers on Leo and I. Finn did it. Think he’s a little freaked, but he did it.”

“Oh Jesus, I should have…” Sirius shook his head. He had his own and he had Jack’s. “Didn’t have to traumatize this…God, never mind. I fucking broke into someone’s house.”

James laughed again, but he looked pale. “It’ll be fine. I was so scared I didn’t even feel it.”

“Same.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Jack?”

“I left him,” Sirius said. “Took everything off him. People will think…I don’t know. But there’s nothing to lead back to Salazar or us.”

James nodded, taking that in. “Salazar’ll be looking for us now that they can’t find us.”

Sirius nodded. “I know… I know they will. We have to move.” They began walking towards the sea window. “How did you end up here? Where are the others?”

“Finn and Leo are with Logan.”

Logan. God, Sirius hadn’t forgotten, of course he hadn’t forgotten, but what a strange thing to hear. After all these months, just a simple Finn and Leo are with Logan.

No sooner had James said it than did the Leo appear. He had an identical bandage to James and held one out to Sirius, along with an alcohol packet.

“Clean that,” Leo said.

Sirius tossed the bloody rag away. “Did yours smoke, too?”

“Yeah,” Leo said. “The second I started to get a headache—Finn said that’s what happened to Logan, too. Said he fell down in pain. But…” Leo frowned in the way he did when he was thinking something over, when something was so entirely perplexing to him that he was sure to pull an all nighter. Sirius had seen him many times after those. Blond hair a mess, coffee mugs lined up besides the water and the electrolyte packets.

“Where…” Sirius began to say. He’d only gotten a glimpse of Logan and it was beginning to feel more like a dream. His slack face. There had been blood? Hadn’t there?

Leo moved aside, revealing a half-collapsed hallway. No, it was more like an nave. Sirius looked up and realized that the remnant of a vaulted ceiling remained, stone and precarious. This had been a church.

Wind whistled through, a high note off the sea, when Sirius saw them. Finn and Logan were at the other end, a corner mostly intact and protected from the cold. Finn was awake, staring down at Logan’s face like he couldn’t stand to look away, not even for a moment. Logan was—asleep?

“Knocked out.” Leo filled in his thoughts. “Finn said he remembered him in the alley, but he’s been out ever since.”

“And his tracker?”

“It’s gone,” Leo said. “I checked.”

“But if Salazar wanted him dead…”

Leo nodded, already there. “Then whoever took it out probably saved his life."

“But he can’t remember us,” Sirius said.

Leo rubbed a hand through his hair, then pressed his fingers to his mouth, thinking. There was blood beneath his nails still, a crust of red even smeared along his jaw. Sirius had the sudden urge to wipe it away for him.

“You said Jack forgot who you were a second before he was killed,” Leo said. “I’m guessing—and this is only a guess—that this is some sort of…kill code put into place in Salazar’s tracker hardware. A memory wipe in case we get captured, and then a kill switch if there’s no hope or if we might crack and tell all.”

“Jesus,” James whispered.

“I’m guessing whoever took out Logan’s didn’t do it in time to prevent the memory wipe. And that’s calling it real close, I don’t know…”

Remus. Sirius could hardly breathe. If he hadn’t seen that footage for himself, he’d be on his knees all over again, desperate and afraid.

“Can you reverse it?” James asked. He was chewing on a thumbnail, looking down the hall. “God, please say you can Leo.”

Leo let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know.” He looked down the stone archways towards Finn. As the three of them watched, Finn reached out a hand and brushed Logan’s hair back from his eyes gently. “I don’t know.”

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

Four: Sirius

Safehouse Somewhere in Athens

Athens, Greece

No one could know, but Sirius was fairly certain he was going insane. He dreamed of Remus. He glimpsed him in dark, dreamscape spaces and then in London. All of their familiar spots. But he was always turning a corner, or walking in front of Sirius who couldn’t seem to reach forward. His name always stuck in Sirius’ throat.

The dark safe house ceiling was no comfort when Sirius jolted himself away for the hundredth time.

“Do you ever wonder…” Remus had begun that sentence more than a year ago, and Sirius still believed that he wouldn’t have been able to guess what he was about to say.

They had been in London, at George’s, on their second beers and making their way through their chip wrappings. Some happy Irish song was bouncing around the shop, but Remus’ expression had been solemn. He’d chewed slowly, staring out the steamed up window. The fog made his brown eyes look like milk poured into coffee.

“What?” Sirius had prompted, knocking the necks of their bottles together.

He remembered being thrilled to have Remus all to himself this late into the night. He didn’t live near Sirius, but near his parents and his little brother, Julian. Sirius didn’t like thinking of them. He’d tried to look in a few times, but seeing ten-year-old Julian’s face had been nearly as horrible as watching Remus get dragged away. It’s my fault, he’d wanted to say. He’d wanted to beg for Julian’s forgiveness and also tell him that he didn’t deserve it, all at the same time.

“George,” Remus had called. “Can you turn this one up?”

The song was already loud, but George shrugged and dialed it up three more notches. Sirius’ neck prickled. He was worried about listening bugs.

Remus had looked around George’s fish shop before leaning a little closer. Freckles, Sirius always thought. Freckles like stars. “Do you ever wonder about them?”

Them. It was the word for Salazar.

“Wonder,” Sirius had repeated. “What do you mean?”

Remus pressed his lips together.

“Re.” Sirius shook his head. “Talk to me—”

Remus’ phone had started to ring. Sirius had caught a quick glimpse of the name before Remus had excused himself to take it outside.

Pascal.

The memory faded when James, laying beside him, reached over at patted his shoulder comfortingly.

Sirius sighed. “How did you know I was awake?”

“You breathe differently.”

“You’re just used to watching Harry sleep.”

“Maybe,” James said. “Maybe you need a little bit of babying, too, to make up for lost time.”

Sirius snorted. James knew about his parents. Cold, passionate people with their ideas in all the wrong places.

“Leo’s on watch?” Sirius asked.

“Yep. Think we can teach Finn a few tricks so we can all get more sleep?”

“Not a chance.”

James laughed softly. His phone briefly lit up the darkness as he checked the time and then groaned. “You’re right, but damn. We should be asleep while we can. You change over at dawn.”

“Honestly, I think I’ll be glad for the distraction.”

“What, you’re own head getting to you? You? Wow, I never would have guessed that.”

Sirius reached out blindly and whacked him in the chest. James hit him back, but they settled again. He tried to match his breathing to James to see if he’d noticed and received another pat.

“It’s something with their memory.” Sirius had to force the words out.

“Yeah.” James swallowed audibly in the dark. “I think so.”

“I don’t…” Sirius shook his head. “They’re killed—we saw them die, and then they show up and—”

Did Remus not know him? Sirius felt sick thinking of it. He tried to put himself in Finn’s shoes, who he’d left curled on his side with all of his clothes on, staring at the brick wall through his bedroom window. If they found Remus—or, like Logan, let Remus find them, would Remus not recognize him? Did he even know his own name?

“We saw them shot,” James said. “We never…We assumed they were dead. Their trackers went offline, we thought their bodies got thrown over—”

“What if whoever took them disabled the trackers?”

“We need to know for sure who we were dealing with six months ago at Sounion,” James said. “Black market and weapon dealing isn’t enough. We need names.”

Sirius could see the three faces they’d managed to track. The woman, and the two men—brothers, most likely.

“Why did Salazar call off the mission after we lost Lo and Re?” James hit the mattress with a harsh palm. “That’s what I can’t fucking wrap my head around. Why not get those fuckers?”

Do you ever wonder about them?

Sirius didn’t know how to say it to James. Had Remus meant Salazar? He’d refused to speak about it after the fact. But now Salazar wanted Remus shot on sight. He thought of whose safe house they were in, and whether it was really safe at all.

“I never asked before,” James continued. “Because I didn’t think it was any of my business…” Sirius knew what was coming when James turned towards him in the dark. “But did—”

“No,” Sirius said to the dark ceiling.

“You didn’t even hear my question” James asked.

Sirius reached out and grabbed James’ wrist, tapping twice on its inside. Their own code. Someone might be listening. He made something up and knew James would go along. “He wins enough money off me, he kills at poker.”

“That he does,” James replied without a beat, but he was tensed beside him. A moment later, he was pushing himself up. Dawn was beginning to make a faint orange line across the bedroom war, coming in through the kitchen.

“C’mon,” James said. “They’ll be setting up the markets. Leo’s on watch. Let’s bring him coffee and wake up our little passenger and go over that phone call radius.”

Sirius looked up at him in the dim light. “Logan always did like leaving at dawn.”

He was reluctant to rouse Finn. The room was freezing. They would have to do something about that. Finn’s suitcase was open on the floor and clothes half spilled out. There was no room for any sort of dresser—or maybe just no care for it. No one stayed long enough, perhaps.

“I’ll do it.”

Sirius turned to find Leo standing behind him. He looked tired, and cold. He was holding a cup of the coffee that James had made—way too strong.

Leo rolled his eyes a little at Sirius’ expression, then shouldered past him. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

“Really?” Sirius said. “I’d be a mess.”

He already was a mess. It had the intended effect, making Leo pause to look at him before settling on the edge of Finn’s bed.

“Finn,” Leo said gently. “Are you awake?”

“Are you awake?”

Sirius drew in a slow breath before opening his eyes. If anyone had told him, upon entering the academy, that his roommate would be a fucking talkative insomniac, he wasn’t sure what he would have done.

“I am now.”

Remus Lupin’s silhouette pushed up from his cot across the small room. “Are you hungry?”

Sirius could still see him there, half-silhouette and half moonlight. He hadn’t known that he would be entranced, for a long time, by how handsome he thought Remus Lupin was. He’d thought that from the very beginning.

“Sure. I’m hungry.”

Sirius went back into the kitchen. He didn’t want to watch this part. He didn’t want to watch Finn wake up and remember.

James looked at him. He was in his own dark, sleek winter jacket, had a black beanie pulled low, and his contacts in. He cupped his mug close to his chin and watched Sirius add milk to his own—how Remus took it. Sirius looked back at him once he was holding his own mug, too.

James’ single arched brow said all he needed to. Of course Salazar is listening. He darted his eyes around the room. This is their safe house.

Sirius nodded, but he didn’t know how to communicate, Remus was worried about something and I didn’t realize it soon enough in just one glance. He didn’t even know how to say it to himself. Salazar had been a part of their lives for the last decade. They’d got through training together, him, Remus, and James. And then had come Logan and Finn, two years later, and then, finally, Leo. Malfoy and the other higher-ups were old-fashioned and crude, but the work they did was important. Necessary. They were protectors.

James just sighed and took a sip of his coffee. “I miss her grilled cheese.” Lily. He wouldn’t give anyone else who might be listening a name. Just like how, for Logan, Finn was always Red, or Rouge.

What would Sirius have called Remus, if he were a civilian? If he weren’t always at his side. If they weren’t always in danger together. Would that have been better? Remus waiting at home for him? Sirius, waiting at home for Remus? He didn’t think so. He preferred Remus in his sightline. He preferred the option of diving in front of a bullet for him. Only distance prevented him from protecting Remus.

He should never have let Remus go down those cliffs without him.

James cleared his throat to get his attention. He had written something down on a napkin. In his scratchy handwriting,

TELL ME.

Sirius didn’t know what he was going to say, but he looked over his shoulder where he could hear Finn and Leo’s soft voices. He wrote quickly:

R X TRUST S?

James read the words and his reaction fell over his face. He flicked his eyes up to Sirius. Didn’t trust Salazar? Honestly?

Sirius shook his head.

Why?

Sirius shrugged and shook his head again. He’d never gotten Remus to say.

Leo was about to come down the hallway, Finn on his heels. “Are we ready?” Leo called.

James was still frowning, hazel eyes worried, as he stuffed the napkin in his remaining coffee to bleed the ink away.

“We’re ready,” James said, though Sirius didn’t feel it.

[lumosinlove]

Could we get a CEWFM snoop? I’m so worried about my boys 😰😰😰

snoops!

“You hardly know what you’re doing.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought I could shoot better than you.”

“Logan—”

“I don’t want to leave him,” Logan said. “I just don’t.”

“We don’t know how many people are following us.”

“I’m not leaving Logan, either,” Finn said. “Sirius…”

His expression said it all. The months of mourning. The week of waiting. The pain of finding each other again, only to have their past go missing.

AND

James was staring out the window with vacant eyes. No doubt thinking of Lily and Harry. What they were doing without him. What he was missing from Harry—a laugh or his wobbly steps. He wanted to go home because he knew exactly where and what home was. Sirius wasn’t so sure. Maybe he had never been sure.

Kissing Remus probably felt like home. Even in a dream.

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

Seven: Finn

Sleeper Car

Somewhere Just Outside of Amsterdam

Logan was sleeping. He slept a lot, actually, so much that Finn found himself pausing before he left the room to watch him breathe. He lay a hand against the smooth wood of the upper bunk and tried not to feel creepy. This was Logan. Watching him sleep hadn’t been creepy for a long, long time. He slept on his side, one knee hitched up and meeting the wooden, cradled edge of the bed. His brown hair splayed against his pillow. Finn was having a hard time waking him for dinner. They would be in Amsterdam tomorrow morning and who knew what awaited them. Possibly not soft sheets and a warm room. Logan stirred, maybe just from the feeling of his gaze.

“Where’re you—leaving?” Logan mumbled without opening his eyes.

“It’s dinner time,” Finn folded his forearms over the bunk’s edge and rested his chin there. “Have to get up, sleepy-head. Have to get all fancy.”

“Ugh. You go, bring me back.”

Finn stayed silent long enough to watch Logan’s breathing even out again. He was asleep again, that quickly. He never fell asleep that fast.

“Logan,” Finn said softly, reaching forward to rub a thumb against Logan’s wrist. “Logan.”

“Hm.”

“I don’t…I really don’t want to leave you here alone. C’mon, let’s get out of the room for a bit. Talk.”

“C’est bien,” Logan mumbled, and Finn’s heart skipped. That was more like it. Half English, half French. Logan cracked one eye open. He turned his hand to pat Finn’s arm. “It’s okay. Have dinner. Come back. I’m really…I’m really tired.” A half a smile crossed his face. “And I’m dreaming.”

Dreaming. That was how many of his memories came back. They’d started a bit of a game out of it. Logan was tell Finn his dreams and ask what was true.

Neither of us can cook?

God, we really do live together. I dream a lot about us sitting on the couch?

Finn’s personal favorite: Who…Who is Martha?

“Have dinner,” Logan said softly, already pushing his cheek more firmly into a pillow. Come back and I’ll ask you what’s true and what’s not.”

Noelle. Who is Noelle?

Ice skates? Ice skating? We went?

Canadian? Am I? Or was that something undercover?

There was bad dreams, too. Logan would wake up and sit with a vacant expression on his face. Finn. I’ve killed people.

“Want something good to dream up while I’m gone?”

“Ouais.” That was better than an English yes. More him.

“Okay. All right…Well, here,” Finn whispered. He slipped a small piece of paper beneath Logan’s pillow. “Don’t lose that. I’ll be back soon.”

The crew had jackets that could be borrowed—apparently it was required if they was going to dine anywhere other than a private room at suppertime. Finn wasn’t sure why Sirius had chosen such a proper railway, but he didn’t feel like going alone. Not to ask for a jacket and not to eat rich food. After a moment of hesitation, he knocked on Leo and James’ door.

Leo answered with wet hair and trousers on—on loan from a gentleman down their corridor. It was amazing, what people would hand over at the horrific mention of lost luggage. They were dark and slim and fit him well, and his chest was still wet from the shower and—

Finn cleared his throat. “Hi.”

“Finn,” Leo said, surprised. He was holding a towel. “Hi.”

“Um. What’s up?”

“Well—nothing.” Leo smiled a little. “James is on watch near one of the tea rooms cause we’re about to refuel. Here, come in, come in.”

Leo and James’ room looked identical to his and Logan’s—James was just messier, and Leo was neater. His top bunk was made up and James’ was a ruin of sheets and crisp packets.

“Are you good?” Leo asked. He was standing by the mirror, putting a toothbrush back in a cup. Finn let his eyes trail over the broad expanse of his back and then realized Leo was looking at him in the mirror and felt himself warm. It was just Leo, but, then again, Leo had always been beautiful. He’d joked about it to Logan.

They’d been washing dishes. Finn rinsing, Logan loading them up.

“You certainly go away for long periods of time with very beautiful boys.”

Logan had rolled his eyes.“Finn. Quoi?”

“Take your pick,” Finn said. “I mean, Leo looks like a—a god of some sort.”

“You look like a god.”

When Finn had looked down at himself and his wet, soapy t-shirt and ratty sweatpants,Logan had grabbed his face with wet hands and kissed him.

“Finn?” Leo had turned to look at him. “Are you okay?”

“Oh. Sorry. It’s good. Lo is sleeping,” he said. I’m worried about that, he almost said, but Leo’s eyes showed him he didn’t have to. “I’m going to bring him something back. But I was wondering if you wanted to—”

“Yes,” Leo said instantly. He was reaching for a shirt.

“Oh, good. I don’t really want to sit there alone. With the…jackets and stuff, I don’t know.”

“No, no,” Leo said, then laughed. “I mean yeah, I’m starving. Just let me get dressed.”

Finn nodded. He sat down at the window seat and thought of the note he’d tucked beneath Logan’s pillow. I love you I love you I love you. It sort of scared him, that it could all come crashing back suddenly. Maybe he should have stayed. He didn’t want Logan to be all alone when he remembered. If he—no, when. He wanted to be there. He hoped he could be there. It would probably be overwhelming. Logan’s entire life, breaking through a watery surface. Or, if not the entire life, Finn hoped all the parts he’d been in returned.

“Okay,” Leo said. He had smoothed his wet hair back from his face with his fingers. Finn had never seen it pushed back like that before, out of his eyes. It was handsome—even more so when Leo smiled at him. “Ready?”

The dining car was half-crowded. Everyone was dressed much better—but, after all, they hadn’t been chased on board. Finn had been given a navy jacket, Leo a black one. They each had the railroad crest on it, as if the host—who had given them a disapproving look as he’d handed the jackets over—wanted the entire car to know they hadn’t come prepared.

“We’re being singled out,” Leo said, leaning down to do so from where he walked behind Finn. Finn felt the words against his neck, warm and with a smile in them.

Finn smiled, and the host caught them at it.

“Sir,” he said shortly, and gestured to a neat little table. It was covered in a crisp white cloth, white folded napkins, delicate silverware, and a glass-hooded candle—which seemed a little risky, but, given all they’d been through lately, Finn wasn’t sure he could call a candle on a train dangerous.

“Thanks a ton,” Finn said, mostly just to watch him sneer at his American accent. Leo widened his eyes at him, grinning as they slid into the booth across from each other.

“Your server will be with you momentarily.” The man didn’t wait for them to reply, but turned sharply back to his post at the front of the car.

“This feels like an Agatha Christie novel,” Finn said, unfolding his napkin and settling it across his lap.

“Don’t say that. Those never end well for someone.”

“Oh.” Finn shook his head. A waiter poured them water, ice clinking into the crystal glasses. “You’re so right. Sorry.”

“I’m joking, Finn.” Leo picked up his menu, blue eyes bright. Finn found he was suddenly biting back the urge to tell him he looked good.

Finn cleared his throat and picked up his menu, too. All in thin cursive. And French, apparently. Finn sighed. “This guy hates me, he gave me a French menu on purpose.”

Leo laughed. “God, no he didn’t.”

“Oui.” Finn said. “Lo would be dying laughing right now.”

Leo held out his own menu. “Here, switch with me, I can read it.”

“Oh right.”

“I should have pissed him off more,” Leo said as they switched. “He could have given me almost anything and I would have been able to order in it.”

“You’re more snarky than people know.” Finn smiled, scanning the items. Each one seemed to have ten ingredients. “Wow. Of all the times we’ve been to dinner, we’ve never gone somewhere this fancy.”

“We haven’t,” Leo said. He took a sip of water, but Finn sensed he wasn’t finished. “I…I missed that the most. Me, you, and Lo. Just. Just hanging out.”

Finn nodded slowly. “What was the last one? I’m having trouble remembering…”

“We went to that new bar? Like, two streets over from the university, we waited outside for you to get out of class.”

“Oh,” Finn said. The image of Logan leaned against the red-brick side of his building, Leo, taller, standing close and smiling at something. The two of them, looking up with a grin when he called out. Finn laughed. “And then, and then, people kept thinking you were my boyfriend, remember?”

Leo smiled down at his menu. He swallowed, and pushed his hair back out of his face. “Because we had the booth I guess, and Lo was in the chair across from us. That’s all.”

The conversation they fell into was easy—as it so often was with Leo. They hadn’t spent much time just the two of them until the one time Logan had been called up and Leo hadn’t. That had been one of Finn’s longest stretches—until Greece—of having to go without Logan. But Leo had stepped right up. He’d been right there to ease the chill of the lonely apartment. They’d watched movies, gone out to their favorite bookshop. Leo had even gotten Finn to master some of the most basic of his recipes. Whenever Finn itched to use the burner phones, trying to press down the urge because no, being lonely was not an emergency, Leo had called him up to see if he wanted to go for a pint after work.

This felt like that. None of the bone crushing sadness that had existed when Leo brought him Tupperware meals because they both knew Finn might simply cease to exist if they weren’t careful. Finn had felt it, he’d felt himself slipping away with each day he believed Logan to not share his world anymore.

Leo signed the bill to his cabin and sent a bright smile to the host as they handed over their dinner jackets. Leo’s had a sauce stain on his lapel, and they had both had to hide their laughter in their napkins when it had happened.

“My apologies,” Leo said in French, and Finn had to turn sharply the other way with a hand over his mouth.

Leo pushed the button for the train car door to open, then again after they crossed through the unheated in-between space. The roaring of the wheels became loud between cars. It made Finn nervous, being able to see the sliver of racing tracks beneath his feet. He kept his eyes on the back of Leo’s neck. His hair was dry now, back to being its light blond.

“Thanks for coming with me by the way,” Finn said as they passed sleeper car doors. He rubbed his palms together. Even that brief hint of winter air had chilled him through.

Leo looked back at him. “Of course. I mean…It’s been a while since we’ve…”

Leo didn’t finish, but Finn guessed he had been thinking along similar lines to his own. Been happy together. Had dinner together.

“It’s such a relief to be able to smile again while talking about Lo,” Finn said. He found himself reaching out and laying a hand against Leo’s shoulder. “Especially with you.”

Leo had just stepped into another in-between space when he looked back at Finn. The wind picked back up. The wheels went loud again. Goosebump rose all over Finn’s body and he reached out to steady himself against the wall as the floor swayed slightly beneath them. Slivers of moonlight got through to them and made Leo’s blue eyes look like lakes at night.

“I just mean,” Finn said. “He doesn’t feel—everything doesn’t feel so god damn far away anymore.”

The door ahead of them opened suddenly and they both jumped. They pressed their backs against the wall to let a couple pass, Leo saying a polite hello. Finn could feel the winter night curl its freezing fingers under his sweater.

A blast of heat hit them when the couple opened the far door, and then was gone again. It was just them and the train.

“He’s not,” Leo said, soft under the noise. “He’s not far away anymore. Not a world and not a phone call.” Leo tilted his head. “Just a few steps.”

Finn huffed out a laugh. “You knew about the phones, huh? Before everything happened.” Maybe Leo had seen them in the drawer, one of the nights he’d stayed over.

Leo arched a brow. “I set it up for him.”

Finn stilled. “You…What?”

“Lo came in one night,” Leo said. His eyes darted over Finn’s face. “I—Are you cold? We should—”

“No,” Finn whispered. “Leo. Tell me.”

Leo’s mouth moved like he was biting the inside of his cheek. “Well—I wasn’t supposed to. He didn’t want you to think that—to think that he was really worried about something happening. But he came in, and I wasn’t expecting to see him so I remember being surprised. And then he looked like something was wrong so I thought something had happened to you. But he said everything was fine.”

“Do you think…” Finn hesitated. “Do you think maybe this was the beginning of whatever led to Salazar wanting to…” Kill him.

“Looking back at it, maybe,” Leo said. “He wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.”

“But that was a couple years ago now.”

“I know.” Moonlight darted across Leo’s features, flashing like it was being blocked and revealed by passing trees outside. “I know. All he said was that he needed a way to contact you. Or for you to contact him. No matter what. And so I did it.”

Finn’s chest hurt. Leo said it so simply. So fiercely, so casually, like he wouldn’t get into horrible trouble of anyone at their agency found out. He’d done this for them. Just like the tracker that sat just beneath Finn’s skin. Just like he’d helped Finn help Logan. He wouldn’t let them lose each other again.

“Thank you,” Finn whispered.

“It’s…” Leo swallowed and looked away. “It’s just my job.”

“No…” Finn couldn’t help it. He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Leo’s neck. “Thank you,” he whispered. He squeezed tight and then pulled back. “Leo, thank you. I can’t tell you—he found us because of you. He found us.”

Leo nodded slightly. His shoulders jumped like he was breathing quick.

“You let him come back to us,” Finn whispered. He laughed a little. He was crying a little. He leaned forward and kissed Leo’s cheek, laughing the words right against his skin. “You did it, thank you, thank you—”

And then Leo was kissing him. He’d turned his head, brought his hands around Finn’s waist and…Finn stopped breathing.

Finn wasn’t used to tilting his mouth up to be kissed. Logan fit snuggly below his chin. Logan wrapped Finn’s shirts up in his fists and pulled him down to his mouth. Logan pushed up on his toes and fell against Finn’s chest and wrapped his arms around Finn’s neck.

Now, Finn’s arms were raised around Leo’s slightly taller shoulders. His chin was stretched up. There was no need for tip-toes, but Finn would have been too surprised anyhow. Leo’s mouth was warm. Finn sank against his chest, his eyes slipping closed.

Leo pulled back, their mouths making a soft, breaking sound. For a moment, their breathing together was soft. Finn couldn’t feel the cold air anymore. The sort of calm he associated with Logan’s body had settled somewhere between his shoulders.

Then Leo’s blue eyes went wide. “I—Oh God.”

Finn could only stare at him. He let his arms drop.

“No, oh my God.” Leo backed up so fast he made the train door rattle. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Leo,” Finn said. “Um. It’s okay—”

“No.” Leo sounded mournful. “No, that was anything but okay.”

He turned fast and with a hard hit to the door button and starting walking quickly up the train corridor.

“Leo.” Finn darted after him, praying none of these doors suddenly opened. “Stop, stop, it’s okay. Wait.”

“No,” Leo said, turning to Finn again when they had almost reached their doors. He dropped his voice to a whisper. He looked like he was about to reach out, but he pulled his hand back at the last moment. “God, Finn, I’m so—”

“What’s this now? Running in the hallways.”

Both Finn and Leo looked up at the unfamiliar voice. A boy was coming towards them. Finn thought he looked around Leo’s age, with brown eyes, olive skin and curling, sandy-blond hair. He was wearing a neatly pressed dinner jacket—one that he probably owned as it matched the rest of his suit.

The boy smiled, a wide, teasing sort of grin, and came to a stop a few steps away from them. “Who’s chasing who?”

“We’re sorry if we disturbed you,” Leo said slowly.

“Oh no,” the boy said. “If anything, I believe I disturbed you.”

Finn frowned. What? “Um. That’s fine. We were just…” But he wasn’t really sure how to finish that sentence. Kissing?

He glanced towards his and Logan’s door.

“It’s all right, Finn,” the boy said. “I’m not going to hurt Logan.”

Finn blinked. Had he missed something? Had he been so dazed by Leo’s kiss that he’d missed Leo saying he knew this person? Did he know Logan? He looked up at Leo, but Leo’s face were just as slack. As Finn watched, his expression hardened.

“Do I know you?” Finn asked.

“Nope,” the boy said.

“Who are you?” Leo’s voice was more demanding.

The boy just smiled again. “Don’t worry. We’ll see each other again soon enough.” He dropped a wink at Finn. “You know, Leo, you’re just as handsome in person.”

With that, the boy put a key into the lock of one of the cabins across the hall, right across from Finn and Logan, and disappeared into his room. The door shut with a loud click.

“Do you…” Finn stared. “Leo—”

“Go back to your room,” Leo said softly.

“Leo—”

“Later.” Leo put a hand on his shoulder. He had that look in his eye that Finn had seen linger in Logan when he first came back from a trip. Something was wrong. “Finn, go back to your room. Pack anything you want to take with you. I’ll be there with the others in five minutes.”

“Do you know him?” Finn glanced at the cabin door. “He said our names.”

“No,” Leo said. “No, I don’t.”

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

Three: Finn

Safehouse Somewhere in Athens

Athens, Greece

The jacket was where Sirius had said it would be, zipped into itself to form a little pillow. Finn slipped it on gratefully and tucked his nose into the collar. This didn’t smell like Logan. It smelled like the plasticky fabric it was made out of. Even the sweatshirt didn’t smell like him. Nothing much of their apartment did anymore. Finn had pressed his face into all of the pillows, all of the t-shirts and sweaters. It was his own fault that the scent was gone, he’d probably cried it away. Clutched it away. Shouted himself hoarse into the bedsheets and remnants of what had felt like always.

He inhaled anyway, and zipped it up to his chin. He wrapped his arms around himself and then pushed his hands into the pockets. Logan kept things. He was hopelessly sentimental, Finn was never allowed to throw anything away. Not tickets. Not even receipts sometimes. Logan was always picking up trinkets, everything from pretty antique cufflinks that matched Finn’s hair to acorns from the sidewalk as they walked, handing them to Finn. Finn had a whole box of everything Logan had ever handed him, all the way back to the shiny star gem sticker he had found on the sidewalk and handed Finn the second week they’d met. Fine. Maybe Finn was sentimental, too.

There was something in the pocket. Not a gem, or a stone, but a piece of paper. He pulled it out and unfolded it, recognizing his own hand.

I love you I love you I love you

Finn put a hand over his mouth and sunk back down on the bed. 

“What’s this?”

Logan had been doing what he usually did before a trip. He was sprawled on the couch. He had looked so soft. His brown curls damp from their shower—another tradition…A spine melting tradition that produced more heat between them than the steamy shower. Finn always felt a little tingly after goodbye sex. Logan kissed differently then. He touched differently. He started out gentle, peaked with rough holds and tight grips in Finn’s red hair, and ended gentle again, holding Finn close. But he had looked good. Really good. Fucked out and sated and smiling sleepily from Finn’s voice and the whiskey. Relaxed before the craze of whatever his next couple weeks might be. They were passing the whiskey back and forth, Finn was reading aloud from his favorite book and, with his free hand, he was rubbing Logan’s ankles. The next time Finn had passed the whiskey back to him, there had been a note between his fingers.

“Just a little truth for you to keep in your pocket.” Finn remembered smiling at the delicate way Logan had set the drink down and unfolded the note. He’d propped himself up on his elbow and read it over and over again. Finn just laughed. It was far from the first time they’d said it to each other.

“What, is my handwriting that bad?”

“Non.” Logan folded the note closed and held it against his chest for a moment. He set it carefully on the table and then crawled forward over Finn’s lap. Finn dropped the book to the floor and cupped the back of Logan’s neck.

Logan was already kissing him when he mumbled, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

The paper was worn soft, like Logan had been rubbing it between his fingers.

“Oh, baby…” Finn whispered. “Where are you?”

There was a slight knock on the door.

“Oh,” Leo said softly. “Finn? I’m sorry, I…”

“You don’t have to knock, Le,” Finn said, wiping at his cheeks. “This is your room, too.”

It was a freezing room, but it was a room, Finn guessed. A small window looking out against the brick wall of the house right beside it. A lamp on the side of the bed Finn had taken. The shade kept falling off at random times.

“Do you guys often stay in…In places that want to freeze your balls off?”

Leo laughed. “Well. Sometimes. Or, sometimes it’s a five-star hotel. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

Finn nodded. “He only talked about the five-star. I didn’t know it was so…Like I guess I should have. I mean, I think Sirius and James think I don’t know they’ve been taking watch all night. I would offer but I—what would I—”

“Finn,” Leo said gently. “I’m glad you’re here. Don’t worry about any of that, we have a system down. We’ve been together for quite a while.”

“Right,” Finn said. He looked down at the note. God, there was so much he didn’t know. “Yeah.”

“What is that?” Leo asked gently.

“Just found it in the pocket of Lo’s coat.” He held it out. “I gave it to him. God—a while ago. Not the trip when he…Not the last trip here, to Greece. I don’t know where you guys went, but it was maybe a year ago.”

He couldn’t tell if Leo remembered or not. He nodded, unreadable. Or, maybe careful. Finn already knew more than he was technically allowed.

“He held onto anything from you,” Leo said softly.

Finn could only nod, throat tight. Maybe he should have given him more. More footholds, more things to hold onto. Maybe then he wouldn’t be—whatever he was now. Lost.

Leo squeezed a hand around his knee briefly. “C’mon. I’ll show you how I’m looking for them.”

Finn had expected to be able to help somehow once Leo showed him his set-up. He was a teacher, he should be able to learn something from Leo’s clear explanations.

“The odd part is,” Leo said. “I can’t track them.”

“Well… Isn’t that what they’re trained for? So no one can?”

Leo just raised his eyebrows and turned back to his computer. With two clicks, a satellite map popped up, along with three little red dots. Two stayed in place, close to each other, the other one was moving slowly down a street.

“Can you guess what you’re looking at?”

Finn frowned. “Um.” He looked over the map—and noticed the Greek street names. “Is that here?”

“Yep. And that’s James in his room. That’s me.” He pointed to the stationary dot. “And that’s Sirius out in the city.”

“But…” Finn frowned.

Leo reached out and settled a palm on the back of Finn’s neck, swiping his thumb just below his left ear. “Tracker. Right here.” He touched his own ear. “See?” He brought Finn’s hand to his own skin.

Finn let his fingers rest there. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Leo just covered Finn’s fingers with his. “No, no, but feel it? The little bump.”

Finn pressed gently and felt his finger pads catch on something. Round and right beneath the skin.  He caught some of the soft curls of Leo’s blond hair, too. Very soft. “Yeah. Yeah. So, are you saying…”

“Lo and Re had them,” Leo said. “But they’ve been disabled somehow. I figured—” Leo cut himself off, looking down to the screen of his computer. “I—Well. When they were…”

“Just say it, Leo. It’s okay.”

“They were shot on the beach and I still had them. When they were taken in the boat, I still had them. Then, far out in the ocean, I lost them. I figured…I figured it was because…” Leo sighed.

“The ocean,” Finn whispered.

Logan, gray ocean light, bleeding, darkness, can’t breathe, darkness darkness, he hates storms, drowning drowning—

Finn took his hand away from Leo’s neck. His eyes closed on their own.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said gently. “I know it’s so hard to think about…I think,” Leo rolled his eyes at himself. “I worry that we’re immune to that stuff sometimes. Too immune. Too used to it.”

“No,” Finn said. He gave his head a slight shake and rubbed at his eyes. “I mean, yes—I just.” Finn was a writer. He was academic, he argued, he should be able to put this into words, but all that came out of his mouth, haltingly and through tears, was, “He’s always just such a furnace when—when I hold him but now he would be—cold.” He tucked his chin into Logan’s down jacket. “Cold.”

Leo nodded, blue eyes sad. “I know. He’s—well. We don’t know anything yet.”

Finn nodded.

“Speaking of,” Leo said. “I’d like to be able to track you. If you’d agree.”

Finn rubbed at his neck before he could think too much about it. “Will it—like won’t Salazar—”

“It’ll just be for me,” Leo said. He clicked around a bit more and pulled up, surprisingly, a front file page of Finn. It was his University ID picture, his eye color, his date of birth, his brother’s name, even a picture of Alex, his parents’, his address, the last time he’d used his credit card to purchase water at the airport—

“Jesus,” Finn said.

“Well, this stuff is easy to get,” Leo said and Finn almost laughed. “But I didn’t know you would be here and I don’t like the idea of losing you when you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place.”

“Right. The stow-away.”

“True.”

“Well—Will it hurt?”

Leo shrugged. “Not too bad. A pinch. Maybe a sensitive area, but they trackers are small.”

Finn tried to think if he’d ever felt Logan’s. How often had he touched Logan’s neck, how often had Logan tilted his head for Finn to kiss him beneath his jaw?

“You’re so warm here,” Finn whispered. “All I want to do is tuck you against me and stay here forever.”

But Leo’s was pretty close to his ear, something no one would find easily. And Logan’s hair was a little longer than Leo’s—or it had been? Please be alive.

“Okay,” Finn said. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

James and Sirius walked in when Leo had Finn seated on a kitchen stool and the—what would Finn call it? A machine? A gun? Syringe-gun? Nothing very appealing.

“Leo,” Sirius said in a warning voice. His cheeks were flushed, as though he’d been running.

Leo rolled his eyes and put the hand holding the gun on his hip. “If he’s gonna be here, I’m gonna be able to find him.”

“You need the agency’s permission to administer one of those.”

“Not this one,” Leo said. “I made this one.”

Finn looked over his shoulder. “You can do that?”

Leo kept staring down Sirius. “Not legally.”

Sirius crossed his arms. “He’s a civilian.”

“Why, what a fantastic observation. He’s Logan’s husband, that’s what he is. You think they don’t know about him? If Remus is alive, and if Logan is whatever the hell he is, neither of them called in. Now, I don’t know if that means they’re being held against their will, but I do know that if they’re being held against their will and someone wants information from them, there’s one, o-n-e one thing that’s gonna make Logan snap and give them anything they want, anything in the entire fucking world. Let me know if you can guess what that thing is, Agent know-it-all, hm?”

Sirius sighed. “Leo.”

James just laughed. “Leo, your accent gets thick when you’re angry, you know that?”

“Let me know.” Leo narrowed his eyes at Sirius. “I’m waiting.”

“Ten bucks he sounds just like his mom right now,” James faux-whispered.

“It’s Finn,” Sirius said.

“Damn-fucking-right,” Leo said, and pressed a hand to Finn’s cheek, steadying him, then pressed the nuzzle of the syringe-gun to his neck and Finn made a startled shout when he felt the pinch of the tracker settle into his skin. Leo looked back at Sirius. “And I won’t let them get close. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

He sounded fierce. Even Sirius could see that.

“Shh,” Leo said—much more gently. He pressed an alcohol pad to the puncture wound. “You’re good. You’ll hardly feel it in a little bit.”

“Shit,” Finn laughed breathlessly. “Got some Leo hardware in my neck.”

James snorted, and when he stretched his arms above his head, Finn caught the flash of his gun strapped to his side. “You’re a weird one, O’Hara.” He nudged Sirius. “How’d it look out there? Anything?”

Finn didn’t register Sirius’ hesitation right away. He was busy watching Leo ease a bandaid over the wound, and then pull up Finn’s location on his computer. Finn stared at his very own red dot, right there within the cluster of Leo, Sirius, and James.

“What?” James said softly, and it pulled Finn’s attention back to them. “What’s wrong?”

Sirius had pulled off his hat. His dark hair was wild, his lips chapped. He still seemed out of breath and, now that Finn was looking, he had a cut across his palm. Leo noticed at the same time.

“Hey.” Leo reached out and picked up his hand. “What’s this?”

“I thought I saw him,” Sirius said quietly. “I really thought…”

Finn’s heart beat in his ears. “Logan?”

“Remus.” Sirius’ gray eyes looked unfocused when they met Finn’s. “I chased him.”

“Where were you?” James asked. “Hey, Sirius. Where were you?”

“I went—no where. Just a cafe. And I thought I saw him but I don’t know now. I don’t know.”

Finn looked out the kitchen window at the watery light. Maybe Remus was looking for Sirius. Maybe if he went outside then Logan would—

A hand on his shoulder. James. He gave a slight shake of his head. Not yet.

“I was being stupid,” Sirius said softly. “I was just… I just thought.”

And then Finn’s phone started to ring.

It made them all jump. Finn took a second to realize it was his.

Sirius’ hard expression was back in a flash. “I told you to turn that off.”

“And I told you I can’t,” Finn said.

“Why?” James asked.

“Because—” Because if he calls me, because if he calls me, because sometimes he calls me. “Uh, my mom would freak. She’s already weirded out that I’m not coming for Christmas.”

Sirius scoffed. “God, O’Hara. Maybe you should go then.”

James let out a low whistle. “Welcome to Logan’s life, Finn.”

Finn pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Don’t,” Sirius said.

But Finn wasn’t listening. He pressed a hand to his chest and stood up. A strange number. Ringing, ringing. No one will know. No one but us. If you haven’t heard from me, you check here, and if I need you to know something, I will, too.

“Logan,” Finn whispered.

“No, Finn, don’t—” Sirius began to say, but Leo held up a hand.

“Let him,” Leo said.

“Leo,” James said haltingly.

“I’m right here, I can protect us if it’s something bad.” He was already on his computer. He gave Finn a nod. “Speaker phone.”

Finn stared at him for a second, and then answered with a shaking finger.

“Hello?”

The voice that replied was immediate, and harsh. “Who is this?” 

Everything in Finn stopped. His heart. His blood. He reached out and gripped the counter, near Leo’s computer where he could see, live, the sound waves of Logan’s voice. Because that was Logan’s voice. Lying in bed, the tiny dorm bed, Logan’s green eyes, laughing with his head on Finn’s bare chest. Rubbing his palm over Finn’s heart. “I love you, Rouge. You know that, right?” First time, first time, the way he breathed, the way he makes coffee, the way he comes home in the middle of the night sometimes and waking up to the feeling of cold air still on his skin. “Salut, I’m home.” Holding Finn around his waist so tightly and breathing out with relief. “It’s just me, I’m home.”

“Logan,” Finn whispered. “Logan.”

“Who are you?” Logan said. “Tell me.”

Finn put his fingers against his mouth and looked at Leo, who motioned for him to reply.

“Lo,” Finn said, confused. “It’s—What do you mean? It’s me. Baby, where are you, I thought—”

“Why do I keep thinking about this number?” Logan asked. “Who are you?”

Finn just stared at the sound waves, as if they could make anything make sense. “I…Lo, I don’t—Because you gave me the number, what do you mean?” Distantly, he was aware that Sirius and James exchanged a look.

“Logan,” Logan said. “Don’t try to find me again. You shot me once, and if I see you, I’ll return the favor.”

Finn felt like he was going to pass out. Nothing Logan was saying made any sense.

“No,” Finn sucked air in through his teeth and thought he would die. “No, what? Lo, I don’t—”

But the line went dead, a horrible click and the droning tone.

“No—” Finn clutched the phone. “No, no, Logan—”

“Oh God,” James said from beside him.

“That’s—” Finn might have been embarrassed in different circumstance. He was crying so hard, no one else was. “That’s traceable, right?” He rounded on Leo. “You can find him?”

“These things reply on signal,” Leo said, plugging Finn’s phone into his computer. “God. Fuck.”

“Why did he hang up?” James said. His eyebrows were draw together. “Are you sure—was it…?”

“Yes,” the word tore out of Finn’s throat, but even as he said it, he wasn’t sure. Finn shook his head and crouched down to the floor. He’d never let this happen in front of other people. Something felt horribly, horribly wrong. Who is this? Did he just want it to be Logan?

“It was him,” Sirius said faintly. He was staring at the phone, too. “But he called Finn Logan.”

“What?” James asked.

“Logan said who is this and Finn replied Logan, as in talking to Logan,” Leo said. He looked stricken. “And then…And then Logan called Finn by his own name.”

The room was so silent. All Finn could hear was his own breathing. Logan. Logan.

“I need—” He gasped, but when he reached for the phone, Leo took his hand instead. He crouched down in front of him.

“Finn, don’t spook him,” Leo said firmly. “Let me work.” He squeezed Finn’s fingers and Finn looked up at him. His blue eyes were soft—maybe a little scared, too. But he repeated, firmly, “Let me work. Let me find him.”

[lumosinlove]

How many chapters are there going to be of winterfic this year???

I am, obviously, behind on my editing hahaha but there will be 24! I guess we're doing a New Year's fic now! <3