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cackling_madly in rs_small_gifts

Fic: Muggles Do It In The Dark, and Other Cliches... for museme87

Title: Muggles Do It In The Dark, and Other Cliches…
Author: cackling_madly
Recipient: museme87
Rating: NC-17
Highlight for Warnings: *a lame, if genuine, attempt at smut, a title that has almost nothing to do with the actual story, except for the apt, if cheesy, innuendo.*
Word Count: 3385 words
Summary: Two days before Christmas, Remus comes home to find Sirius trying to do things the Muggle way.
Author's notes: Many thanks to the mods, who were infinitely patient and understanding, and a special thanks to my betas, cherie_morte and brighty18, for all their help and guidance.
museme87: Though my muse has been on sabbatical for the better part of a year, I was inspired by your prompt of "Late night/early morning Christmas gift wrapping" and committed your wish list to memory (before quickly forgetting it:[) and tried to incorporate as many of your likes as I could. Not sure if I did that, but I hope you like this anyway. Happy Holidays! :D

Braving the bustle of last-minute shoppers (a procrastinating wizard among them) was not the thing Remus wanted to do two days before Christmas, but he found himself among the fray of panicked Muggles on the streets of London all the same earlier that afternoon. He's spent half the day running around Muggle London searching for the tiny pastry shop his mother took him to once when he was five that sold the creamiest, most delicious fudge Remus, or his parents, have ever tasted. And while his mum has raved about that fudge every holiday since (and from what Remus can remember, he can't blame her), she can never recall (not being a native Londoner herself) the location of that small and, unfortunately for Remus, still elusive shop. It's disappointing, to say the least, and it means he still has a present left to buy. But as Remus sheds his coat and drops his packages on the counter of their kitchenette, he has only one thought on his mind – Sirius. More specifically, Sirius naked.

In less than a day he and Sirius will descend upon his childhood home to celebrate the holidays with his parents, and he will have to curb the impulse to touch his boyfriend freely, kiss those full pink lips whenever the urge strikes, or fuck his gorgeous boyfriend against any flat surface whenever he, or Sirius, feel the need (a need they feel with alarming frequency, considering they've been at it since they were randy, inexperienced fifteen-year olds). He wants to get in as much sex as he can beforehand (though he knows that with Sirius within touching distance, it will be a near impossible thing).

When he enters their sitting room (which involves simply turning right), he is pleased to see Sirius' artfully distressed leather jacket strewn haphazardly across the back of the settee, his road-scuffed black dragon hide boots abandoned along the narrow corridor that leads to their bedroom. This means Sirius is home and with any luck, already naked. Remus can picture his boyfriend, perfect tan body (always tan, even in gloomy London winters or even gloomier Scottish ones) laid out on the sheets, all aristocratic debauchery as he strokes himself lazily and waits for Remus to join him. He steps lightly, hoping to surprise Sirius, catch him in that compromising position, and as he approaches the bedroom door, the low desperate murmurs he hears seem to confirm the fantasy in his mind. But what greets Remus when he opens the door is a very different picture indeed.

Sirius is sitting on the bed, dishevelled and looking gorgeous as ever but still mostly dressed, amid an explosion of brightly coloured rolls of paper, torrents of ribbon, and what looks like spellotape tangled around him and sticking to various places on his person. The first thought Remus has is that the offending items were spelled to life and attacked his unwitting boyfriend. Or perhaps a band of thieves broke in and tried to tie him up with the first thing they could find. It certainly seems as likely as anything as this point.


Sirius huffs and throws up his arms. Bits of paper and ribbon fly into the air and rain down around him like rough confetti.

"How the fuck do Muggles do this?!"

Remus can't help but be amused. "What, human decoupage?"

Sirius glares. "Fuck you," he sneers. "No! Giftwrapping!"

"Is that what this is?" Remus asks and then spies a few boxes peeking out from the fray. No robbers then, he thinks, trying to hold back a snicker.

"Moony," Sirius utters in a warning tone.

Remus can see from the look on Sirius' face that his boyfriend is in a precarious mood, and, if he wants to come out of this conversation with his bits still firmly attached to his body (or he wants to get laid any time tonight, and really, without the bits the getting laid would be a moot point) he knows he'll have to tread lightly.

"It's not as easy as it looks," he replies evenly. "Apparently," he adds, to himself.

Sirius narrows his eyes. Remus sometimes forgets that he isn't the only one with sharpened canine senses.

"I suppose you can do better."

Remus leans against the doorframe. "I certainly can't do worse."

He gets a balled-up bit of reindeer-printed paper to the face for that one. He thinks he probably deserves it.

"Sirius," he begins, more than an inkling of why Sirius is sitting there half-wrapped. "What are you doing, love?"

He looks at Remus like he's an idiot, which Remus suspects might actually be true as soon as Sirius begins to speak. "It's customary to wrap gifts, isn't it?" Sirius replies, the haughty indifference in his tone (the one that screams, "Peasant! Away with you!") a stark contrast to his ridiculous predicament.

Yes, he thinks, but I've never seen you attempt it. "Usually just a bit of spellotape and a few flicks of a wand will do." Remus didn't think it was possible, but Sirius looks more miffed.

"Do you honestly think I would be in this mess if I'd been using magic?" he yells.

Remus doesn't answer, more than a little afraid for his bollocks at the dark look on Sirius' face.

"I was doing it the Muggle way!"

Oh, thinks Remus, feeling every bit the idiot Sirius' look accused him of only a moment ago. "Oh."

"Yes, oh." Sirius huffs and seems to deflate, his head dropping down along with his shoulders. He looks dejected, resigned to defeat by sticky tape, and Remus can't help but think of Padfoot whining in a corner of their dorm at Hogwarts, tail between his legs, after a stinging (and often well-deserved) lecture from Professor McGonagall.

"Why go to all this trouble?" he asks, pushing that pathetic image out of his mind. Padfoot tends to pull at heartstrings Remus never knew he had.

Sirius shrugs and doesn't answer, worrying a length of ribbon between his fingers.

"My parents won't care if you use magic or not, Sirius – " he begins.

He knows that Sirius is sensitive about the fact that Remus' parents aren't very happy with their relationship. Sirius has got it into his head that it's mostly to do with being a Black (though he knows his gender doesn't help) and all the noblesse that name infers. Remus knows it's infinitely more complex than that, having to do with their hopes and dreams for their only son (most of them already dashed years ago with a bite to the sternum), and with the fact that their son's male lover (emphasis on the male) almost drove him to ruin only four years ago. It’s that fact more than any that Remus has tried to conceal from his mate, so he lets Sirius think it's all to do with a name, pureblood prejudice – and having a cock.

"Yes, but it's not just your parents, is it? You said so yourself, your third cousin and his wife might show up with their two sprogs, and your great-aunt and her medi-whatsit."


"All Muggles."

Remus nods in understanding.

"They won’t be able to tell whether you've used magic or not, you know."

"I'll know," says Sirius, earnest.

Remus stifles a sigh. It's just like Sirius to get caught up in trivialities when the bigger picture scares him to death.

"Alright, move over."

He doesn't give Sirius a chance to respond, just shoves him gently to the side. Sirius reluctantly shifts, and Remus, sweeping away some of the mess onto the bedroom floor, takes a seat beside him on their shared bed. He roots around the discarded pieces of paper and fishes out two gifts, both already wrapped. He thinks.

"Um,... " he begins, fingering a frayed edge of paper and smoothing his fingers over odd lumps.

"That one's for your father," Sirius tells him. "It's a bottle of whiskey. The man at the shop said it's one of the finest there is. It's from Islay." He looks proud.

Of course Sirius would go to all the trouble of finding his father the perfect gift, something impressive but understated. That Sirius actually remembers that his father was born and raised on the small Scottish isle is surprising (but then, Remus is constantly surprised by Sirius, it's one of the things he secretly loves about him) and Remus is touched and a little saddened by Sirius' need to win his father over. He doesn't think it's the best moment to mention that his father doesn't drink and isn't particularly fond of his childhood home.

He gives Sirius a sincere smile and feels a twinge of guilt for the lie he's about to tell. "He'll love it," he says because he doesn't want to see the look of disappointment on Sirius' face.

"Who's this one for?" Remus asks, extracting a small box from the debris.

"Your mum," he answers. "It's earrings."

Diamonds, Remus thinks. Very expensive. Probably pierced. He hopes, in vain, that Sirius won't notice his mother hasn't got pierced ears if it turns out Remus is right.

"You might want to have another go at that one."

Remus looks down at the poorly wrapped gift and finds himself wondering if little Harry would have done a better job, then immediately feels shame for thinking it.

"No," he decides, smiling at Sirius, "it's not so bad."

He shoulders his mate lightly and Sirius elbows him, smiling back. The instant he does, his face reverts to schoolboy, all charm and grace and more than just a little bit of the rogue that Remus – and half the female population at Hogwarts (professors included) – fell in love with, then he notices the long bit of tape in Sirius' hair. He has to bite his tongue not to laugh.

"What?" begins Sirius, his mood much improved and eyeing Remus with open curiosity, while Remus thinks ridiculous sod as he takes in the state of his boyfriend.

"You've got… " he trails, gesturing to Sirius' long tangled mane. He makes to pluck a length of tape from the dark head of hair, then pauses. "There's tape in your hair."

Sirius' hand immediately flys up. "Don't just pull it out!"

"I won't," he reassures, cupping Sirius' chin and pressing his lips to the corner of his mouth before reaching up to gently pry away Sirius' protective hand. "Trust me."

Sirius loathes having his hair pulled. Pulling hair was one of the more 'pedestrian' ways Walburga Black used to punish her sons whenever they disobeyed (which in Sirius' case was often), and one of the few ways she ever really had any physical contact with her children. As a result, Sirius has never taken it well when someone pulls his hair. Remus recalls one time James did it in first year (making fun of Sirius' long "girly" locks) and got a black eye for his trouble. Of course, they made up almost immediately afterwards, and James had really thought his black eye was cool.

But, even now, Sirius is prone to lashing out if someone so much as tweaks a hair on his head. When they make love and Remus gets overexcited and accidentally pulls on his boyfriend's locks (and Remus will go to his grave denying it's ever anything but an accident), Sirius makes him pay for it afterwards, doling out a "punishment" of hair-pulling – usually accompanied by a blowjob from Remus – in kind.

Sirius relaxes, closes his eyes and lets Remus pick the tape carefully from his locks. "Don't bother with that 'accidentally on purpose' nonsense," he warns, regarding him for a moment with a single steely eye.

Remus huffs out a laugh. "It's never on purpose," he asserts as he pulls at a particularly long piece of tape.

"Right – Ow!"

The tape comes away, several strands of long dark hair stuck to one end. "Sorry," he says sheepishly.

"Do I have to put you over my knee, Moony?"

Remus feels his cock give a twitch at the suggestion.

Sirius looks down. "Remus," he crows, noticing the definite bulge in Remus' jeans, "you kinky bastard! You'd like that wouldn't you?"

Remus feels himself blush. After all the late-night exploring they've done together, discovering each other's bodies and learning what the other one likes, there are some things that Sirius still doesn't know about him. And he doesn’t intend to let his boyfriend in on that little fantasy right this minute. There are things to do before they leave for his parents' tomorrow and he doesn't fancy bouncing on the back of Sirius' motorbike all the way to Topsham with a sore arse.

"Is there anything else left to wrap?" he asks instead.

Sirius' eyes have gone dark with lust but he doesn't push. "Just one more," he responds and roots around the bed until he comes up with another box. Mathilda's Wrinkles-No-More Miracle Lotion, it reads. There is a matronly blonde witch on the front, teeth sparkly white, smile impossibly wide, skin as smooth as a baby's bottom.

"Let me guess," Remus says with a slight sinking feeling in his stomach, "that's for my great-aunt."

"How'd you know?"

Remus blinks. "Just a hunch."

"It's the best there is," he tells Remus. "At least that's what the lady at the shop said. Something about the oil from the innards of a 'blubbery humdinger'."

Oh sweet Merlin, Remus thinks, almost sure there is no such thing as a 'blubbery humdinger'. He makes a mental note to get the name of the shop from Sirius later. There is a shop owner who is going to hear it for this.

"Shall I?" he asks, reaching for the box.

"Go on," Sirius gestures.

Remus pulls his wand out of his back pocket and points it at the box, but before he can utter a spell, Sirius pounces, knocking him off the bed and onto the floor with a thud.

"Argh!" he yells and struggles under the solid, leanly muscled frame. Sirius easily overpowers him, grabbing his wrists and shaking his wand loose from his grip.

"That's cheating, Moony!"

"You said – !"

"I said no such thing!" Sirius yells, no real anger in his voice, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "You have to do it the Muggle way!" He gives a twitch of his hips and Remus can feel Sirius' already-growing erection hot against his thigh.

Remus answers by pushing up off the floor and letting Sirius feel his own straining hard-on. Those earlier thoughts of Sirius naked come unbidden into his mind. "Let me go and I will," he says, having no intention of wrapping anything but Sirius' legs around his waist.

"Will what?" Sirius asks, leaning close and grazing his teeth against Remus' chin.

"Do it the Muggle way," he answers before capturing Sirius' lips in a rough kiss.

Their tongues slide together briefly before Sirius pulls away and sits up, arse firmly planted against Remus' groin. There is a delicious ache that has Remus forgetting everything beyond Sirius above him, looking wanton and willing as he strips off his shirt.

"Right," Sirius utters as he makes short work of Remus' clothes, pulling off jumper and jeans with alarming efficiency, pausing only to kiss increasingly bare patches of skin before getting his own kit off. He then resettles on Remus' thighs, and Remus feels hot and squirmy under his boyfriend's unrelenting gaze.

"Well?" Sirius demands as he takes Remus' erection in hand and strokes once, twice and stops.

"Fuck, Sirius," he whines, his mind a jumble. Sirius, his hand still firmly wrapped around the base of his cock, looks down at him expectantly.

It takes a minute for Remus' brain to catch up and he immediately tries to reach for his wand, intent on Accioing the pot of Ludo's Libidinous Lubricant from the drawer in the night stand.

"Uh, uh," chides Sirius, firmly clamped fingers squeezing while the other hand reaches out and tweaks a nipple.

Remus can't help the way his cock aches in Sirius' grip and feels the burn of his cheeks as Sirius begins to chortle. "I knew it!" he gloats and leans over to graze the untouched nipple with his teeth. Remus hisses and bucks, his body reacting on instinct, though he has enough sense to restrain himself from sliding his fingers into Sirius' hair.

Sirius seems much too pleased with the position he's got his boyfriend in, and Remus can barely think, all his blood having rushed to his nether regions, but he suddenly knows what Sirius means. Ignoring his lover's laughter at his expense, Remus gropes around on the floor until his fingers curl around a box. Sirius lifts an eyebrow, in surprise or challenge Remus isn't sure, but he makes no move to stop him as he rips open the box and uncaps the bottle.

"Really Remus, old biddy cream?"

"You want to do it the Muggle way." He presses the small bottle of Mathilda's Wrinkles-No-More Miracle Lotion into Sirius' hand. "This is the way Muggles do it when they’re desperate," he explains, feeling desperate himself, "with whatever they've got on hand."

"Hmm." Sirius feigns consideration as his hand begins to stroke once more, a slow delicious glide that has Remus panting and begging for Sirius to fuck me already, you git!

"Oh, no!" Sirius exclaims, "I'm not putting this rubbish on my bits. Never even heard of a blubbery humdinger." He shakes his head as he slathers Remus' cock with the lotion.

Remus knows he should feel indignant, and there is a faint and somewhat disturbing thought in his head of being wary of a lotion with the oil of some magical Creature's innards being rubbed over his precious bits, but the moment Sirius lifts his hips and pushes down on his erection, all Remus can do is feel.

There is no more conversation after that, just bitten-off moans (because they have neighbours and Remus wants to be able to show his face in the corridors) and desperately uttered dirty words, and cries of, "Fuck, Moony! Yes! More!" (because Sirius doesn't give a stuff about the neighbours and likes the glares he's bound to get from this particular performance). And it isn't until Sirius throws back his head and comes with an explicitly loud moan, splashing hot across his belly and chest, that Remus follows.

Afterwards, laying in a boneless heap on the cold wooden floor, Remus can't help the smile that stretches across his face.

"Four days, Moony," Sirius says eventually, lips pressed to Remus' sharp collarbone, his warm, sticky body half-draped over his boyfriend.

Most of Remus' faculties have returned to their former glory and he knows immediately what Sirius means. "I know," is all he says.

"I don't think we'll last."

Remus thinks back to the last week, then the last month, last year. Regretfully, he has to agree.

"We'll fuck in the shed if we have to."

Sirius lets out a huff of laughter. It tickles Remus' chest. "Good plan."

They fall silent once again, and Remus can hear a car-horn in the distance, sounds of the city faint but filtering in through the walls and the windows, and Sirius breathing, soft and even, cheek pressed close to his heart.

"Did you find the shop?"

"No luck."

Sirius shifts, sliding up to look at him. "Guess we'll have to grab something for your mum and your great-aunt before we leave tomorrow." The hint of amusement in his voice isn't lost on Remus. "Just no lotion," he adds, leaning close, a smirk curling his lips, "I don't think I'd be able to keep a straight face when your auntie opened her gift."

"No lotion then," Remus chuckles and captures his boyfriend's lips in a kiss.

"But definitely something Muggle," Sirius amends.

Remus, feeling like Christmas has already come a thousand times over, readily agrees.


I always knew Sirius would be a lavish gift-giver... and that he'd be useless wrapping gifts. This was hot as hell, and cute and funny too. I love their good-natured bickering, and the lotion! Haha, the lotion, while they were going at it, I was wondering if Remus's great aunt will mind terribly if her present has already been used for not-so innocent purposes. XDD So glad they decided to keep it.