#black christmas au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

engie-ivy · 9 months

Text

(Wolfstar Christmas Get-Together Coffeeshop AU Holiday Fluff!)

3304 words.

Sirius is the town’s most eligible bachelor, and while home for the Holidays, everyone seems eager to get him coupled up.

Euphemia wants to set him up with this sweet boy who frequents the library where she works.

Hope Lupin wants to set him up with her own son.

James wants to set him up with Lily's cute best friend.

Sirius, however, isn't interested in any of them, as he's already smitten with the adorable guy from the coffeeshop.

This Love We Got Is the Best Of All

Merry Christmas - Ed Sheeran & Elton John

“Oh my!” Hope Lupin claps her hands together. “What a handsome young man indeed!”

“I told you, didn't I?” Euphemia beams at her. “Hope, this is Sirius Black, James’ best friend, but more like my second son. Sirius, this is Hope Lupin, she has recently joined my book club and I invited her over for tea.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Lupin,” Sirius smiles.

“Oh, please.” Hope Lupin waves her hand. “Call me Hope.”

“How was it at the shelter?” Euphemia asks Sirius.

“Very good!” Sirius’ face lights up. “Mr Snuggles’ owner came to pick him up. You should've seen how happy he was that he had found his friend back, it was lovely, and Mr Snuggles wouldn't stop purring.”

“Sirius is studying in London to become a veterinarian,” Euphemia explains to Hope. “And while he's in town for the Holidays, he's volunteering at the animal shelter.”

Hope leans her elbows on the table and rests her head on her hands. “Handsome, smart and good for animals,” she sighs. “All the girls in town must be swooning over you!”

“They are,” Euphemia chuckles. “But he has already broken all of their hearts by having no interest in girls. Though he has never brought home a nice boyfriend for Christmas either,” she adds, with a stern look at Sirius.

“You know,” Hope says, directing a meaningful smile at Sirius. “My son is about your age and still single. And knowing my boy, he'd be quite charmed by you.”

“Now, wait a minute!” Euphemia protests. “If you want to set Sirius up, you'll have to get in line, my dear Hope. There's this really sweet boy who frequents the library, and I've been dying for Sirius to meet him! If only Sirius would let me introduce them…”

“You know I'm not-” Sirius begins, but he's interrupted by Hope.

“Well, surely my own son comes with a higher recommendation than some boy from your workplace,” Hope insists.

“But I know Sirius,” Euphemia counters. “And I know his type best.”

“Hello?” Sirius waves. “Does anyone care what I think?”

“My son is everyone's type,” Hope says firmly.

“And if my match turns out to not be such a match after all, then your son is more than welcome to shoot his shot…”

“Apparently not,” Sirius sighs, hoisting his bag higher up his shoulder and walking out of the kitchen.

“So now they're both trying to set you up?”

James chuckles.

“It's not funny!” Sirius covers his face with his hands as he drops down next to James on James’ bed. “Just mum was bad enough, but now her friends as well?”

James pops himself up on his elbows and waggles his eyebrows. “That's what you get for being the town’s most eligible bachelor.”

“Middle-aged women meddling in your love life?”

“You know,” James says. “If you want to be one step ahead of the nosy ladies, there's always Lily's friend.”

Sirius groans. “Not you too, Jamie!”

“Oh, come on!” James exclaims. “He's a really chill guy and hella cute! You'd totally like him.”

“Jaaaaames, you know that I'm not… open.”

“Right,” James says, rolling onto his back. “Coffeeshop guy,” he sighs exasperatedly.

“Coffeeshop guy,” Sirius sighs dreamily.

“He's so funny and kind, James. You won't believe.”

James snorts. “What I mostly don't believe, is that you still haven't asked him out yet!”

“I'm getting there, I'm getting there,” Sirius says. “But it's not like I haven't made any progress! Did I tell you that he knows my order now?”

James rolls his eyes. “You've been coming there twice a day ever since you got back in town. If he didn't know your order by now, I'd worry about his mental capacities.”

“You should've seen the way he smiled at me yesterday when he handed me my drink” Sirius says dreamily, as if he hasn't even heard James. “He's so pretty, oh my gosh.”

“I would've loved to see that,” James says dryly. “But someone-” He pokes Sirius in his side “-made me solemnly swear that I wouldn't go near that coffeeshop.”

Sirius huffs. “You admitted that you wanted to interrogate him about ‘his intentions’!”

James shrugs. “Only my brotherly duty.” Then he grins. “Lily's friend already passed my test, by the way.”

“Good for him,” Sirius says unimpressed. “I'm sure he'll make someone very happy someday.”

“Good morning, Remus!”

Remus looks up from where he had been rearranging the pastries in the display. “Oh! Sirius! Morning! A good one. To you as well, I mean.”

“Did you survive the morning coffee rush?” Sirius asks as he approaches the counter.

“Barely,” Remus chuckles. “Good thing it's still too early for most people to order one of our more complicated Holiday Specials.” He shudders. “I'm already dreading the afternoon rush. Luckily some customers are thoughtful enough to always come when the rush is over,” he adds, smiling at Sirius.

Sirius’ stomach flutters. Sure, it's super inconvenient to always start his volunteer work at the shelter a bit late and always stay a bit longer, but that smile makes it all worth it. “Well, gotta make sure I get enough one-on-one time with my favourite barista,” Sirius replies with a wink, and he's pretty proud of his smoothness.

Remus’ cheeks colour, and that could be a good sign, though there's always the chance he's just making Remus uncomfortable.

“You charmer,” Remus mumbles, awkwardly bumping Sirius’ shoulder. “Are you looking for a discount?”

Sirius places a hand over his heart and gasps in pretend-shock. “I would never use my charm for such purposes.”

Remus has given him a free cinnamon bun once, and while Sirius is not much of a sweet tooth, he savored every bite.

“No,” Remus chuckles. “Great power and great responsibility, I suppose.”

“Can imagine rush hour is the worst around Christmas,” Sirius says, looking over the menu. “Must be rather frustrating when you have ten people waiting in line, four coffees still running, and someone goes and orders…” He narrows his eyes at the sign above Remus. “A caramel cookie dough vanilla bean syrup latte moccachino with whipped cream and hazelnut topping.” He looks back at Remus. “What even is that?”

Remus leans over the counter and smirks. “Wanna try one?”

“Remus,” Sirius says emphatically. “The day I walk in here and order something like that, please take me to the ER, because I must've slipped and hit my head on the way here.”

“Booo, you're no fun,” Remus pouts rather adorably, as he pushes himself up from the counter. “Your regular it is.”

“Thank you,” Sirius says, pleased.

“You know,” Remus says, turning around to make Sirius’ double shot cappuccino. “You really gotta step out of your comfort zone every once in a while.”

“My coffee is my comfort,” Sirius replies. “So what would even be the use of my coffee moment if I'm using it to step out of my comfort zone?”

“A little adventure, maybe?”

“It's not that I'm not adventurous, it's just that I know what I like and what I don't like.” Sirius shrugs. “I'm actually plenty adventurous in other aspects of my life.”

“Are you now?” Remus asks, turning around to bring Sirius his cup.

“Oh yeah,” Sirius says. “I love going on spontaneous road trips on my motorcycle, for instance. Did I tell you that I drive a motorcycle?”

Remus’ eyes slightly widen. “That's hot.”

Sirius arches an eyebrow.

“Erm, the coffee,” Remus says, putting the cup down in front of Sirius. “Very hot, so, erm, be careful.”

“Thanks,” Sirius says, giving Remus an amused look. “After having ordered it about twenty times already, that hadn't occurred to me yet.”

Remus immediately hands Sirius his cappuccino as he walks in that afternoon. He's got cacao powder stains on his apron, whipped cream on his cheek, cookie crumble in his hair, and a bewildered look in his eyes, making him look like a very cute mess.

Sirius arches an eyebrow. “You're not gonna try to push one of your Holiday Specials on me?”

Remus shakes his head. “I feel like I've made enough moccaccinos, frappuccinos, chococcinos, hazelnuccinos, or whatever kind of ccinos for the rest of my life. If you ordered one, I might have actually refused.”

“Well, not to worry,” Sirius says, taking a sip from his drink. “And here I thought my impeccable argumentation had convinced you.”

“Well, the motorcycle was a strong argument,” Remus says, leaning over the counter, resting his head on his hand. “Guess there's a whole other side of you outside of this coffeeshop that I do not know yet,” he murmurs, looking at Sirius intently.

Sirius tries to school his expression into something more collected than how he feels on the inside, because yet? Does that mean Remus wants to get to know him while he's not just doing his job? And god, must he be looking at him like that?

“Well, yeah,” Sirius says, surprising himself with how normal his voice comes out. “I suppose there is more to me than double shot cappuccinos.”

Remus smirks. “Who would've thought?”

“Excuse me?”

Remus jumps, only now noticing the woman standing at the counter. He quickly rushes to her. “Hi, yes, I'm sorry, how can I help you?”

Sirius finishes his coffee and slips on his jacket, staring at Remus, who's still having a conversation with the woman about the difference between a latte and a flat white. He's trying to work up enough courage.

“You!” Remus suddenly says, pointing his finger at Sirius while the woman walks away with her gingerbread latte. “You're not thinking about leaving without showing me, are you?” He turns his hand around and wiggles his finger, beckoning Sirius over. “Come on, let me see, let me see!”

Sirius rolls his eyes fondly as he walks over to Remus. “I wouldn't dare,” he says, as he whips his phone out of his pocket and opens his photos.

Remus eagerly looks at the screen. “Oh my, did Purrkins get her fur brushed? What a lovely lady!”

“She did, and she was quite the drama queen about it.” Sirius rolls his eyes. “You'd think we were trying to torture her.”

“Look how proud Bowie looks!”

“Well, he was a really good boy and found two sticks in the yard!”

“And who’s that fuzzy ball of fluff?”

“That's Myta! She was brought in today, and already made many friends.”

“And there's our dynamic duo!”

“Yes, little Adrian and his big brother Bram are still as inseparable as ever.”

“Oh! Is… Is this what I think it is?”

“It is! Siepie got adopted today!”

Remus sighs deeply as Sirius has swipes to the last photo. “God, I envy your job. I mean,” he adds quickly. “I know it's not always fun and very hard work as well.”

“I guess it is,” Sirius says. “But everytime I walk in and see those faces, it more than makes up for it.”

“That's what my friend who works in kindergarten always says,” Remus says. “But I could never quite imagine. In this case, though, I immediately believe it.”

Sirius grins. “Wanna quit this job and come volunteer in the shelter with me?”

“Too bad,” Remus says. “Getting paid is a non-negotiable for my job.”

“You'll get paid in cuteness!” Sirius insists.

“Cuteness doesn't pay college tuition, I'm afraid.” Remus chuckles. “Otherwise you'd be studying for free.”

Sirius opens and closes his mouth.

Remus turns bright red and runs a hand through his hair. “I… Erm, I mean…” He claps his hands. “Well, I better get cleaning! Considering my brain-to-mouth-filter apparently stopped working, I must be very tired. I should start closing up.”

“You know,” Sirius quickly says. “If you really want to know more about me outside of this coffeeshop, my chosen family is hosting a Christmas Eve party. Maybe you'd like to come?”

“Christmas Eve?” Remus replies. “Oh, I'm sorry. I already promised my mum that I'd go to this event with her on Christmas Eve.”

Sirius face falls. “Right. Of course. It's short notice, after all. Well, better luck next time.” Sirius turns to walk away.

“Sirius!” Remus grabs his wrist. “I really am sorry.”

Sirius looks down at Remus’ hand and then up to his face. “It's okay. It's Christmas Eve. You can't cancel on your mum, of course.”

Remus bites his lip. “Would you think me a terrible person if I kind of wish I could?”

Sirius smiles. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“That's amazing, mate!” James beams at him.

“We should not get ahead of ourselves,” Sirius warns. “I mean, he did say no.”

“But he obviously wanted to say yes!” James exclaims, grinning broadly.

“He did, didn't he?” Sirius’ face also breaks out into a grin. “I mean, he wouldn't have called me back to emphasize how sorry he was if he was just trying to blow me off.”

“Definitely not,” James assures him. “He's totally into you, just really couldn't make it. And now he knows you're interested, so nothing should be stopping him from asking you out next! Which is good, as the sooner we know if it's going to work out with coffeeshop guy, the better. Lily's friend is single now, but he won't be forever. Ow!” James rubs his arm where Sirius just punched him. “But of course I'm rooting for you!” He adds, upon seeing the glare Sirius is directing at him. “I'm just saying, it's a shame Lily's friend can't make it to the party either. It would've been good if you could've at least gotten to meet him before completely making up your mind on coffeeshop guy.”

Sirius lies back on the bed, folding his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “I hate to break it to you, Jamie, but my mind is already completely made up on coffeeshop guy.”

James looks at Sirius and shakes his head. “You're really gone for him, aren't you?”

Sirius sighs. “I can't bloody stop thinking about him.”

“Good heavens,” James says. “You're down bad!”

“I'm glad mum's library boy couldn't make it to the party either,” Sirius says. “Now the only person I have to politely reject is Hope Lupin’s son. Though maybe he's completely mortified about his mother's meddling and isn't even into me at all,” he adds hopefully.

“Wouldn't count on it mate,” James says, lying down next to him. “A single gay guy seeing you and deciding he's not interested? That happened exactly never.”

Sirius groans, and James pats his leg sympathetically.

“I'm not even trying to boost your ego here. You know the effect you have when you walk into a room.”

Okay, so maybe Sirius does kind of know the effect he has when he walks into a room. Giggling, admiring glances, lingering looks, that sort of thing, but he had not exactly expected to have that effect on the middle-aged and elderly women of town.

At the Potters’ grand Christmas Eve party, it seems like every single one of them is stopping him. “Oh my, Sirius Black? Is that you? Look at you! My dear, you get more handsome every year! Say, is there a special someone in your life already?”

This is mostly followed by them listing all their children or grandchildren who are still single, while Sirius tries to politely get away before they whip out the photos. He's grateful that at least he hasn't run into Hope Lupin yet, shoving her son in his face. Photos are easier to get away from than an actual person, after all.

When talking to seventy-five-year-old Mrs Markell, she hadn't even been mentioning any grandchildren, and Sirius is wholly unprepared when she suddenly takes a stack of photos out of her purse, with no chance for him to get away on time. But it turns out she heard Sirius is studying to become a vet, and she just wants to show him pictures of her beloved dog, Mr Barkell. And well, Sirius is definitely here for that.

“Oh my god, what a handsome fella indeed!” Sirius is just gushing over Mr Barkell in his brand new Christmas sweater, knitted by Mrs Markell herself when he hears a familiar voice.

“Sirius?”

He looks up and immediately feels his heart speed up, because Remus in an apron is adorable, but Remus in a button-up and suit jacket? Good god. “Remus?” He manages to say. “What are you doing here? I thought you had that thing with your mum?”

Remus looks just as surprised as he does while gesturing around himself. “This is the thing with my mum.”

Sirius blinks. “Your mum took you to our Christmas Eve party?”

“Apparently,” Remus says, smiling sheepishly.

Suddenly, Euphemia’s voice can be heard. “Remus!”

“Msr Euphemia?” Remus stammers.

“You're here! Oh, how lovely.” Euphemia gives Remus a warm hug, before playfully slapping his shoulder. “And you made me think you couldn't make it, you,” she tuts.

“You know Remus?” Sirius asked, stunned.

Euphemia rolls her eyes. “Why, of course I know Remus! I've been trying to introduce you to him for ages! Ever since this adorable boy walked into my library,” she says fondly, squeezing Remus’ arm.

Before Sirius can say anything else, another voice sounds. “Oh no, you two are already talking!” Hope Lupin rushes up to them. “And I wanted to be the one to introduce you two!”

Euphemia frowns. “Why did you want to introduce Remus to Sirius?”

Hope blinks. “...Remus is my son?”

“Remus from the library is your son?” Euphemia exclaims.

The two women stare at each other for a moment, and then they burst out laughing. “Can you believe it…?” “This whole time…” “We were just trying to get Sirius together with the same person!”

Remus’ cheeks turn bright red. “Mum!”

“Remus! Mate! You're here!” Sirius probably shouldn't even be surprised anymore to see James running up to Remus and slinging an arm around him. “Lily said you already had other plans, but I'm super glad you made it after all!”

James lets go of Remus and walks up to Sirius, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward. “Have you met Sirius yet?”

“Yes,” Remus replies, looking a bit dazed. “As a matter of fact, I have.”

Sirius stares at him and opens and closes his mouth a few times before managing to produce words. “You're library boy, and Hope Lupin’s son, and Lily's friend?”

“Wait, really?” James speaks before Remus can reply. “Are you serious, Sirius? That's all the same person? All Remus?” He starts laughing and clasps Sirius on the shoulder. “I know how head over heels in love you are with your coffeeshop guy, but mate, this sort of seems like fate, doesn't it?”

Now it's Sirius’ face that turns bright red, as Remus raises his eyebrows. “James!” Sirius hisses.

James looks from Sirius, to Remus, and back again and his eyes widen. “What? Do you mean… No way!” He gasps. “Are you for real? That's insane, mate! Insane, but also kind of amazing. Wow, this best man's speech is going to write itself!”

“James!”

“So,” Sirius begins, staring up at the night sky after Remus and he have stepped outside for a moment to talk. "Apparently, everyone in my life has been trying to set me up with you.”

“Yeah,” Remus says, awkwardly scratching his head. “Sorry about that.”

“Don't be,” Sirius says, turning to him to look him in the eyes. “I must admit, I kind of like that everyone in our lives saw you, saw me, and all had the same thought: these two should be together.”

The smile Remus gives him makes Sirius feel warm even in the December cold. Remus reaches out his hand. “Including us?”

Sirius smiles back at him as he takes the offered hand. “Yeah, we beat them to it, didn't we?” He squeezes Remus’ hand softly. “Including us.”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar christmas fics #wolfstar christmas #wolfstar holiday fluff #coffeeshop au #smitten sirius black #good friend james potter #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter

321 notes · View notes

lumosinlove · 9 months

Text

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.”

#Christmas Eve Will Find Me lumosinlove #winterfic lumosinlove 2023 #ficmas #wolfstar #finnlo #sirius black #remus lupin #finn o'hara #spy au

99 notes · View notes