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December 24th | 6:45pm
“I don’t understand why you don’t sell these,” Sirius said, reaching for a fourth perfectly decorated sugar cookie.
“Oi, shut up,” James muttered as Remus vaguely asked, “what?”
Remus and Lily were busy unwrapping and popping trays of Mary’s spanakopita in the oven of Fleamont and Euphemia Potters’ professional-grade oven. Sirius and James had been put in charge of unboxing Remus’s cookies and laying them out nicely on platters before the guests arrived for the Potters’ annual Christmas Eve party. Lily turned around, eyes narrowed in suspicion at her husband.
“James!”
“Wha’! ‘Snot me,” he protested around a mouthful of cookie, “‘s Sirius!”
Remus snapped the oven shut and spun around.
James was gesturing with a vague helplessness at Sirius, who licked the last crumb off his finger and smiled winningly at Remus.
“I think of all your baked goods, these are my favorite.”
Remus pulled a face, looking like he was stuck somewhere between annoyance and resignation.
“I don’t know why we put you in charge of the cookies. Obviously we’re going to eat some,” Sirius said.
“Don’t you remember?” James asked, nodding helpfully, “he said we weren’t allowed near the stove after the Guy Fawkes Day incident. Which I think is a bit of an overreaction, I might add, and I think -“
“Just don’t eat anymore,” Remus said, stepping away from the stove and dropping onto a stool at the kitchen island next to Sirius, “or at least even it out and eat a snowflake one or something. I don’t want an imbalance in cookie shapes…”
He grabbed the tray and began rearranging the cut-out cookies with a critical eye. After replating Sirius’s platter, he pulled James’ toward him.
“So, why’d we do this again if you’re just going to redo it?” James asked conversationally, stealing a snowflake cookie and skillfully dodging Lily’s hand as she tried to slap it out of his grip. He split it in half and offered part to her as a peace offering, which she accepted with an arched eyebrow and an expression that plainly said ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.’
“Mostly to keep you distracted. Euphemia said to keep you downstairs while the people from The Leaky set up the open bar, which-“
“Oho! Open bar?”
Both men rose a few inches form their seats with twin looks of wonderment and excitement on their faces before their repetitive partners yanked them back down.
“….which doesn’t open until seven,” Remus finished pointedly, hand still wrapped around Sirius’s wrist, “we’re under strict instructions to not let you two near the oven, the bar, the valet, the house cleaners, the florists, or the bloke tuning the piano. Really after a while we had no other choice but keep you occupied with busy work. And no offense, but obviously I am going to redo this.”
“It’s like they don’t even trust us,” James said to Sirius, looking wounded.
“They don’t,” Remus said with a shrug, finishing up the second large tray of cookies.
“I didn’t mean my parents, I meant you two!”
“Oh we definitely don’t,” Lily said, sniggering.
She snagged another cookie off they tray.
“Shit these are good, Remus. Why don’t you sell these?”
He shrugged.
“I have another recipe for cut-out sugar cookies for the shop. It’s just… a better recipe. For the shop.”
“But these are like…” she trailed off, looking a bit guilty, “like a lot better. Not that yours aren’t amazing! But, damn.”
“Why is it a better recipe for the shop?” James asked, splitting a third cookie with Lily, “like cheaper ingredients to buy in bulk or something?”
“Erm, yeah.”
Sirius narrowed his eyes, surveying his husband with a piercing look.
“You’re lying,” he said after a moment of shrewd contemplation.
“I’m not! It’s not…” Remus sighed, “It’s not exactly cheaper but the recipe at the bakery is just better for the bakery. Do you really want me to go into the specifics of, you know, costing ingredients or what have you?”
“Why would you need to if it isn’t about cost?”
Remus rolled his eyes, “you know what I mean.”
“I don’t,” Sirius said stubbornly, fixing his husband with a challenging look.
“Alright, alright,” James interrupted, waving his hand airily, “don’t have a domestic over a bunch of cookies. Is it after seven yet?”
“Just about,” Lily said, “should we head up?”
James popped off his stool with an enthusiastic flourish and linked arms with Sirius, pulling him towards the door.
Lily slid off her stool gracefully, “I better go put get Harry from Effie and put him to bed. Coming?”
“Yeah. I’ll just pop this last tray out and be up.”
December 24th | 8:32pm
Remus cut into his second piece of filet mignon, savoring the flavor of the bearnaise sauce from his last bite when he felt a familiar nudge at his ankle.
Sirius, seated to his right, had twisted his foot around Remus’ ankle and was gently prodding it with the toe of his shoe.
“What’s the deal with the cookies, then?” he said quietly, allowing the hum of the other dinner guests around the large table to wash over them and hide their conversation.
“What?” Remus feigned dumb.
Sirius gave him a knowing look and a slight smile, “fine, I won’t push.”
“It’s not… it’s nothing.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not like, evading you...”
“I know.”
“I’m not!” Remus was slightly pink in the ears and look torn between indignation and embarrassment.
Sirius nudged his foot against Remus’ ankle again and smiled fondly.
“I don’t actually care, it’s just funny. Obviously there’s something about them and, you know, it’s just been years since… since, I don’t know, I learned something new about you, I guess?”
“It’s not… there’s no mysterious secret. It’s just a recipe I like to make at home and not for the store. That’s all.”
Sirius squeezed Remus’ wrist and pulled it up to his lips to give it a quick kiss.
“It’s all good. Love you.”
“I love you too,” Remus said smiling before wrinkling his nose at the smear of oil left behind my Sirius’ lips, “But don’t get your food on me.”
Sirius laughed loudly and poured them both more champagne.
December 25th | 1:07am
Spent and sweaty, Sirius reached blindly on his bedside table.
“What are you doing?”
“Just… getting this,” Sirius grinned, pulling a cookie from a small china plate hidden behind several wine glasses and beer bottles.
“Oh, Christ,” Remus rolled his eyes and turned over, back to Sirius, to get a drink of his own - water, this time. He sat back in bed and swallowed a generous amount alongside a painkiller.
“Preempting tomorrow’s hangover?”
“More like preempting you talking about the fucking cookies again,” Remus said grumpily.
Sirius laughed and laid his head on Remus’ chest.
“I won’t ask.”
“It’s nothing special. It’s not even a good recipe.”
“Remus, it’s a great recipe.”
Remus hummed, sounding dissatisfied.
“I thought a few weeks ago you said you only make these cookies around Christmas, only at home for friends and family, and they’re your favorite.”
“It’s… I do, that’s true, and they are,” he said finally. Sirius’s alcohol-soaked brain took a few minutes to process.
“But if they’re your favorite… why don’t you like the recipe? I don’t get it.”
“I don’t dislike it, it’s just nothing special,” Remus said, “anyway we should sleep. You know Harry will wake us up at some godforsaken hour.”
“I do not get it. I just don’t.”
“You don’t have to. Just sleep.”
“All I want for Christmas is the answer to this ridiculous cookie riddle,” Sirius said, pulling the blankets over them and kissing the side of Remus’ neck.
“What happened to your proclamation at dinner that you didn’t care and wouldn’t ask about it?”
“Not sure I ever promised that second part.”
Remus was quiet for a moment, thinking back over their meal.
“God you’re annoying when you hyperfixate,” he said finally, a exasperated smile creeping into his voice.
“You love it.”
“Hm.”
“You do. I’m delightful.”
“Delightfully annoying, maybe.”
“I’ll take it.”
December 25th | 6:18am
“Wake uppppp! Wake up!”
Harry was outside their bedroom door, alternating between knocking and shouting gleefully.
“Hhngf.”
“Get up! Sirius! Remus!”
“Hngg. Nnn.”
“Coming,” Remus tried to call out, voice graveled. He coughed a few times and took a swig of water. “Coming, Harry!”
He rubbed Sirius shoulder, “wake up, love.”
“Hnmf.”
“I’ll get you some coffee.”
The muffled grumbling coming from within the mound of blankets sounded marginally more happy.
Remus tossed the covers aside and stepped out of bed, thankful the Potters’ immense wealth afforded them the plushest carpets Remus had ever had the pleasure of trodding on.
“Hmm, wait.”
Sirius’ hand shot out of the blankets and pulled Remus gently back onto the bed.
“Get back in bed.”
“Harry’ll murder us.”
“He can wait a few minutes.”
“Oh, a few minutes is all you’ll need, huh?”
Sirius wriggled out of the covers enough to free his head and smile lasciviously at Remus.
“Maybe a few minutes longer than a few minutes.”
He tucked his hair behind his ears and slid down the bed, disappearing out of sight under the covers once again and settling comfortably between Remus’ thighs.
Remus huffed out a laugh and reached a hand down to tangle his fingers in Sirius’ silky hair.
“We shouldn—”
“Oi! Harry’s already had two cups of hot cocoa and is running circles around the Christmas tree. Lily and I can’t take much of this!“ James called.
“Come back in thirty minutes with coffee and we’ll be ready,” Sirius called, flipping the blankets off over his head to call out.
“Twenty!”
“Fine!”
Remus dropped his head down onto his pillow.
“Let’s just get up and shower.”
“Ugh, no, not in the shower. My knees can’t take it any more, I’m too old.”
“I didn’t mean… just showering. And then unwrapping presents with our nephew, nothing inappro— ohh…”
The sensible suggestion dropped into a moan as Sirius began tormenting him with his hands and tongue.
“Fuck.”
“Good?”
“Nnnhg mhm.”
“More?”
“Mhm.”
“What was that?”
“Hmm, yes.”
“Oh I wasn’t sure. You like… that?”
Remus agreed raggedly, moaning softly and trying to keep his hips from bucking up into Sirius’s mouth.
“That good?”
“Yes it’s fucking amazing don’t stop, just, fuck— wha’ why’d you stop?”
“Tell me about the cookies.”
“What?”
“Tell me,” Sirius whispered in between his dangerously pleasurable ministrations,” About. The. Cookies.”
“Oh fuck off…keep going...”
Sirius laughed loudly, smiling up at Remus.
“Ask nicely,” he said with an arched eyebrow, “and do what you’re told.”
“What- ah! - we don’t have time for this.”
”You’re the one setting the pace here. Just tell me about the cookies and I’ll keep doing this.”
Remus let out a stream of expletive filled moans.
“You’re… hnnnn…so… mmmm… weird…”
The vibrations from Sirius’s laugh sent tingles down Remus’s spine. Knowing Sirius’s stubbornness and penchant for teasing, Remus fisted a handful of Sirius’s glossy locks and tugged sharply upward.
“I’m going to take a cold shower.”
Sirius pouted, tilting his head slightly to escape Remus’s grip, “you’re no fun.”
“And you’re making a 6-year old wait for Christmas presents because of a cookie recipe.”
“It’s not about the recipe,” Sirius said earnestly, “it’s about the mystery.”
Remus rolled his eyes and shoved the covers back.
“No, no, okay, I’ll be nice,” Sirius said, hopping up to straddle his husband’s waist, “just… hold on.”
He leaned over to his bedside table and pulled a small bottle out of his Dopp kit. A few moments later he was sinking down onto Remus and moaning quietly in pleasure, eyes closed and head thrown back.
“Fuck that’s good. Give me a second. It’s been a bit.”
“Mmm,” Remus said, steadying Sirius with a hand on either side of his hips, “too messy.”
“What?” Sirius said laughing, “too messy? What’s too messy?”
“You know, fucking is, mm fuck,” he shuddered and gripped Sirius’s hip hard, “you know, lube and… and… mmm… ‘m close.”
“You always have such strange little chats during sex,” Sirius said conversationally, bouncing up and down, trying to distract himself from the pleasure and last a bit longer. He needed to focus.
He stilled his hips and Remus let out a frustrated groan.
“Tell me.”
“Fuck.”
“Why don’t you make them for the bakery?”
Sirius ground his hips in a circle tantalizingly slowly. Remus just groaned.
“You can use your safeword anytime you know,.” Sirius said conversationally, lifting his hips up and down ever-so-slightly.
Remus slammed his head against the pillows a few times in frustration, but didn’t speak.
“Ah, see you love it, can’t fool me.”
“I won’t tell you. I’ll let you keep going and safeword out in a few minutes.”
“Such a brat,” Sirius said, panting a bit with the effort of holding himself still, “I won’t finish you off then.”
“That is not fair pl- ah!”
“Tell me and I’ll go faster, or safeword and I’ll stop.”
“Nnhn no... that’s not… those aren’t the rules.”
Before Sirius could answer there was a sharp knock at the door. He leaned forward, hands on Remus’s chest.
“I think we need to hurry,” he whispered, “so what’ll it be?”
“Just… please.”
“Guys?” James called.
“Hm, what do you want Rem? Want more?”
A more persistent knock rang out.
Sirius began sucking kisses down the side of Remus’s neck, grinding his hips slowly, but never enough to satisfy.
“I’m coming in with coffee if —“
“I wouldn’t,” Sirius called back in a lazy singsong, running his hands over Remus’s chest.
“Ugh, gross. I swear to god…”
James rant continued, replete with admonishments referencing Santa’s disappointment and Lily’s wrath, but both men inside the room tuned it out.
“Hm? What do you think?”
“I think you’re not nice.”
Sirius began moving in earnest once again, moaning as he dropped up and down, hands on Remus’s waist to keep him from bucking up. He knew soon the pressure would be pushing Remus past rationale thought.
He slowed.
“So I’ll just stop then, or…?”
Remus gripped Sirius tight around the waist, eyes screwed shut and sweat beginning to bead around his forehead. “no. Don’t. Don’t stop.”
“Then I think you owe me an explanation.”
“I’ll tell you after,” Remus conceded breathlessly, running his hands up Sirius’s back and squeezing his ass.
“Oh yeah right, you’ll just— oh!”
But his speculation ended suddenly as Sirius was flipped on his back and thumped onto the mattress, Remus still inside him and smirking.
Heat flared in Sirius. He stared up at the other man in surprise, surprise that was quickly turning to longing.
“So,” Remus whispered dangerously, “Shall I stop or do you want to safeword?”
“Oh, you — ah! Fuck right there.”
Remus thrust hard and fast, hand between them to bring Sirius off with quick, efficient strokes.
“Here,” he said after, pressing a kiss to Sirius’s temple as he rolled off of his husband and passed him a tissue from the box on the night table.
“It’s a… fuck, I’m sore now,” Remus panted, “…it’s a Good Housekeeping recipe. And it has corn syrup.”
Sirius, who had been judiciously wiping down his chest, looked up at Remus blankly before a grin dawned slowly on his face.
“Are you serious?” he said, gleeful.
Remus tilted his head and arched an eyebrow, decidedly not commenting on the wordplay.
“Oh, shut up,” Sirius said, “Good Housekeeping!?”
Remus buried his face in the pillow and sighed loudly.
“And corn syrup!” Sirius was gleeful, “but… but you’re such a snob! I can’t believe you bake with corn syrup! You hate corn syrup! It’s an ‘evil over-processed monstrosity!’”
Remus rolled over and fixed Sirius with an stern expression.
“You will not be telling anyone.”
“Oh, I won’t. Marlene and Dorcas would eat you alive, and I’m too young to be a widower,” he cackled, throwing the covers off and making his way towards the bathroom.
Remus stretched lazily and pulled the covers over him. Surely Harry wouldn’t mind if he and Sirius joined him part-way through the present opening…
He rolled over and stretched to snag the china plate with his leftover cookies off of Sirius’s bedside table. He chewed a festive snowman cut-out cookie thoughtfully, smiling as he listened to his husband’s voice echoing out from the bathroom.
“Good housekeeping!”
Remus grabbed another cookie laced with high-fructose corn syrup and red dye 40. He wouldn’t sell them in his shop, but damn they were good.
And it was Christmas, after all.