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Grimmauld Place had never known so much warmth.
Fairy lights blinked along the banister, charmed snow drifted lazily in the corridors without ever melting, and the smell of cinnamon and pine filled the air thanks to the entirely too many scented candles Sirius had dragged home from a Muggle shop- he’d been positively delighted to discover they had come up with such a brilliant invention. It had been even worse in the autumn, when Harry couldn't take two steps out of his room without feeling as though he’d swan dived into someone's pumpkin juice.
Harry had been the one to hang most of the decorations. Sirius loved Christmas with a kind of boyish enthusiasm that Harry found painfully endearing. He loved watching Sirius race through the halls that first morning, oohing and ahhhing over all of the fairy lights and garland. When Sirius turned that smile on him in thanks, Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He was so desperately in love with Sirius that he would have decorated every room in the house and then some, just to have that smile aimed at him again.
His love had evolved over the years, of course. What had started as an explosive, teenage-angsty kind of love was now a sturdier, deeper love that thrived in the cracks of their ordinary life together. It tugged at him whenever Sirius grinned at him across the breakfast table, or slung an arm around him after a rough day at work. And sometimes, Harry would catch Sirius looking at him like he was the answer to some question he’d been pondering for far too long, making Harry think dangerous, hopeful thoughts.
The problem was, Harry had learned early on how quickly people could be taken from him.
They didn’t always die. Sometimes they just left. And that kind of loss, could be just as final and hurt just as bad.
Sirius was everything to him. He was home, and family, and freedom, all braided together so tightly Harry couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
So Harry kept his feelings to himself.
It wasn’t the age gap. It wasn’t the title of godfather. Harry had turned those ideas over and over until they’d lost any power to scare him. What terrified him was simpler and far worse.
If he told Sirius the truth- if he let the words I love you cross the space between them- there was a chance Sirius would look at him differently.
Harry could survive a rejection. He could endure awkwardness, embarrassment, even heartbreak. What he couldn’t survive was Sirius pulling back- measuring his words, guarding his touch, retreating into that careful politeness people used when they were afraid of crossing a line. Sirius had never done that with him. He was always affectionate without thinking. Losing that would be unbearable.
Harry had spent too much of his life starved of affection to gamble with the only person who gave it freely.
But the time had come where he didn't think he was capable of holding it in any more. His love had grown so overwhelming that it leaked into every aspect of their interactions. He practically salivated over every glimpse of Sirius’s skin. Keeping his hands out of Sirius’s hair had become nigh on impossible. He was laughing too loud at terrible jokes and stammering over desperate compliments. The time had come to make his move, before he humiliated himself any further.
So his campaign to woo his godfather began in earnest.
But no matter what he did, Sirius seemed to remain completely unaware. Harry had been dropping hints for ages, he would brush Sirius’s fingers when handing him a glass, or lean against him on the sofa while they read at night. He’d even tried his hand at flirting, though it was with a hopeless subtlety that Hermione constantly mocked him for. But Sirius was Sirius- affectionate with everyone, the light in every room, and desired by everyone who crossed his path. It was starting to seem like Sirius would never see Harry as anything other than his precious godson.
The only thing left was for Harry to take drastic measures, to force Sirius to see him- really see him- as a man. A man who was hopelessly, terribly in love with him.
So Harry had decided, this Christmas, he was finally going to tell Sirius how he felt. Straight up. Right to his face, probably.
Or…
He would find the perfect gift, something intimate and unmistakable, something that said ‘I love you’ without having to say it aloud at all.
He spent a whole day wandering Diagon Alley in the snow, thinking of all the things Sirius treasured- old records, motorbike parts, dog-shaped trinkets, hair products. Harry was edging toward a shop selling enchanted star maps when movement caught his eye.
Sirius and Remus strolling down the Alley arm in arm. It wasn’t an unusual sight itself, no, but it was the way they were walking that caused Harry to stop dead in his tracks.
They weren’t just walking. They were pressed close together, their shoulders overlapping as they trudged through the snow like they were using each other to stay warm. They were talking quietly, faces bent toward one another. Harry watched as Sirius’s long hair fell into his face and Remus paused what he was saying to brush it behind his ear carefully.
It looked intimate. The perfect romantic rendezvous with the white snow swirling around them, catching in their hair, the chill bringing a blush to both their cheeks.
They stepped into a shop, and Harry followed without thinking, his heart hammering.
He saw it before he was ready. He hadn't even processed what could be happening before it was thrust into his face before he had time to brace for the impact.
Sirius had his arms around Remus. Remus’s forehead rested on Sirius’s shoulder. Sirius pressed a soft kiss to Remus’s hair. Another near his temple and then his cheek.
Harry’s breath cracked. He turned and left so quickly he nearly knocked over a display of perfume bottles. The cold air bracing his dangerously unbalanced mind as he stumbled onto the street.
Of course.
Of course…They were well suited.
Of course Sirius would choose someone closer to his age, someone who’d known him since childhood, someone who wasn’t the boy he’d sworn to protect. Remus would understand Sirius better.
Harry walked back to Grimmauld Place without remembering the journey, his stomach in knots, the perfect Christmas gift forgotten.
By the time he reached his room, Harry had worked himself up from devastation and into a proper strop.
How could Sirius do this to him? He who was there for every nightmare, every good day and bad? He did everything for Sirius- would do anything for him, just to make him happy. Remus had his own life! How dare he step in on Harry’s. And how dare Sirius let him!
Well if they had each other, then they certainly didn't need him. He would show Sirius what it was like to live without Harry. All of those nice things he did? No more. Let Remus make the bloody breakfast since they were so bloody in love.
Sirius noticed the distance immediately.
What he didn’t know was that Harry’s heart was breaking, and when Harry’s heart broke he didn’t sulk quietly- he acted out.
Dinner that night was the first strike.
Sirius walked into the kitchen expecting the usual two plates but there was only one, which Harry was currently scarfing down at a pace that was frankly, concerning.
“Er,” he said, blinking. “Are you being timed?”
Harry didn't answer, he just grunted and continued shoveling the food into his mouth without looking up from the book he had placed in front of his plate.
“You didn’t make me any?”
Harry shrugged. “Didn’t think you’d need me to.”
Sirius frowned. “Well no but..”
Harry stood abruptly, deposited his plate in the sink and left the room without further acknowledgement.
The next morning, Sirius caught him in the hall.
“Morning, kiddo,” he said, reaching out to ruffle Harry’s already wild hair.
Harry stepped back so quickly the gesture missed by inches.
“I’m late,” Harry muttered, brushing past him.
Sirius stared after him, genuinely hurt.
Over the next few days the behavior escalated.
Harry slammed doors and answered any attempts at starting a conversation in monosyllables or disinterested grunts. When Sirius tried to sling an arm around his waist the way he always had, Harry jerked away like he’d been burned.
When Sirius asked him to come read with him in the library one night Harry simply sighed and said “Why don’t you ask Remus” and rolled over in his bed, ending the conversation. Sirius just frowned and walked away, clearly bewildered
He didn’t touch the honey-glazed pheasant Sirius brought home from the fancy butcher in Diagon Alley, and when Sirius, as a seemingly last ditch effort, pressed a fat pouch of Galleons into his hand with a conspiratorial wink and a “go buy something ridiculous, pup”, Harry let the coins spill onto the kitchen table and walked away.
Sirius was baffled. He had no idea what he could have done to upset Harry so much, but he was desperate to fix it.
Remus just sighed at him sympathetically as he sat on the wolf’s couch that evening. He had fled from the thick tension that had filled his and Harry’s once happy home, and came complaining to his best friend's house, hoping that he would have some helpful insight.
“Pads,” Remus said, landing a heavy hand on his shoulder, “I think he’s hurt.”
“About what?” He threw up his hands. “I can’t fix it if he won’t talk to me!”
“Forgive me, but it sounds… like he may be a bit jealous,” Remus said gently. “Maybe even more than a bit.”
Sirius blinked. “Jealous? Of what?”
Remus closed his eyes, despairing. “Of me, you utter idiot.”
“Why in the bloody hell would he be jealous of you? I hate you most of the time! But I love him. I would do anything for him. He must know that by now.”
“I don't know Pads, maybe you should… Oh, I don't know.. Ask him?”
By the time Christmas Eve arrived, Grimmauld Place was about the least cheerful place you could find in all of London.
Harry avoided Sirius all day, slipping in and out of rooms like a ghost. Sirius finally lost patience when Harry turned on his heel and walked out of the sitting room the moment Sirius entered with cocoa.
“That’s it,” Sirius said, voice low and dangerous. “Harry James Potter, stop running and sit down.”
Harry froze. Sirius had never used that tone of voice on him before. Merlin help him, but he was helpless to refuse. He sat. But he wasn't going to be happy about it. He pouted and crossed his arms, turning his body completely away from the man. It was childish, sure, but Harry frankly couldn't give a damn right now.
“Enough,” Sirius said quietly. He didn’t sit. He stood over Harry, arms folded, looking every inch the pure-blood aristocrat he’d once rebelled against being. “Sit up.”
Harry didn’t move.
“Harry.”
His tone cracked like a whip startling Harry into compliance, his cheeks burning.
Sirius’s eyes were storm-grey and furious. “You’ve been acting like a spoiled brat for over a week. I’ve tried being patient. I’ve tried spoiling you rotten. Nothing works. So you’re going to tell me what the hell is wrong, or Godric help me-”
Harry’s jaw remained firmly clenched.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Sirius said quietly. “Please.”
Harry stared at his shoes. At first, he had planned to continue giving him the cold shoulder, but the fear and desperation in Sirius’s voice made him pause. He wasn't a cruel man and even if Sirius had hurt him badly, he couldn't stand the thought of hurting him. His voice came out brittle.
“You and Remus.”
“What about me and Remus?”
“I saw you,” Harry said, his throat tight with mortification. “In the shop a few weeks ago. Hugging him. Kissing him.”
Recognition dawned in Sirius’s eyes- and then disbelief.
“That’s what all this is about? But why?” he asked, quieter still.
Harry looked away. His hands were shaking. He wanted to disappear.
“Harry.” Sirius’s voice dropped back into its commanding tone, leaving no room for refusal. “Look at me.”
Harry met his eyes, already steeling himself for the humiliation he was sure was coming.
Sirius stepped forward until Harry had to crane his neck. “Cut the shit, love. Come clean.”
The endearment broke him.
He tried to stand, to escape, but Sirius moved faster. One step and Harry’s back hit the wall, Sirius’s arms caging him on either side without actually touching him. Close enough that Harry could smell bergamot and black tea and the faint bite of Firewhisky on Sirius’s breath.
“Running away already?” Sirius murmured. “No. You don’t get to drop that and leave. Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Harry couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn't absolutely eviscerate himself so instead he turned his head, staring into the fire and ignoring the hulking man in front of him altogether.
Sirius growled and took Harry’s chin in his hand, tugging his face to meet his gaze. “Cut the fucking brat act, Harry. Right now. Tell me why it hurts you so much that I hugged Moony.”
Harry’s eyes burned. “Because I didn’t know you and Remus were shagging each other. I- I thought you were just friends.”
“Oh, Harry.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “That wasn’t- Merlin. Remus was telling me about a bird he’s been sort of seeing. I was happy for him. That’s all.”
Harry looked up sharply. “You kissed him.”
“On the head,” Sirius said. “Because the man is being an idiot, but he’s a lovable idiot.”
Harry swallowed. Hard.
“And since when,” Sirius added softly, “would that bother you?”
It came out before Harry could stop it.
“Since I’ve been in love with you for years. And I wanted it to be me,” he shouted. “I want you to hold me like that, kiss me like that, alright!"
Silence.
Complete, total, heart-stopping silence.
Harry felt his stomach drop, his head fell to Sirius’s shoulder. “Forget I said that.”
“Harry.” Sirius’s voice was barely a whisper. “Harry, sweetheart.” A big had burrowed into the hair at the nape of Harry's neck and was used to tug his face back into view.
Sirius had the most curious mixture of hopeful amusement and frustrated bafflement on his face, causing Harry to chuckle wetly, swiping at his nose with a closed fist and the hem of his sleeve.
“You’re…” Sirius breathed out slowly craning his neck to catch Harry's eyes. “You’re in love with me?”
Harry nodded miserably. “I was going to tell you with a Christmas gift, but then I saw you with Remus, and-”
Sirius made a sound like he’d been punched. Then his arms were around Harry, pulling him in, crushing him close. Harry’s face was pressed into the warm hollow of Sirius’s throat, and gentle kisses rained down on his face, his cheeks, his messy hair, the curve of his brow.
Harry clung to him, fingers twisted in the soft cotton of Sirius’s shirt, breathing him and luxuriating in his singular focus. He hadn’t realized how starved for his attention he really was until he was buried in Sirius’s arms. Sure they were alone all the time together, and hugs with Sirius were given in spades, but one like this? Where he knew Sirius’s full attention was on him and him alone? Where his strong arms pulled him in and held tight like Harry was all that was keeping him a float? That was something new. Harry melted, knees buckling, and Sirius caught his weight easily, rocking him, murmuring soft nonsense into his hair.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you. Never letting go.”
Harry didn’t know how long they stood there. Long enough that his shaky breaths lengthened into steady inhales, long enough that the warmth of Sirius’s body burned into his skin and left him flushed with need. He shifted, just a fraction, and felt the hard line of his own cock trapped between them. Mortification flooded him, but he couldn’t pull away; Sirius’s arms tightened as if sensing where his thoughts had turned.
Sirius leaned back to meet his eyes and took Harry’s face in both hands.
His thumbs brushed Harry’s cheekbones gently.
“Harry, Remus is my friend. My brother. I love him, but not like that. Not ever like that.”
Harry’s breath hitched.
“And you- ” Sirius’s voice cracked. “How could you think I wouldn’t want you?”
Harry blinked. “Because you’d never-”
“I have been half in love with you since the day you moved in,” Sirius said fiercely. “But I know how problematic it would be. I never let myself hope you would want the same things.”
Harry stared at him, stunned.
Sirius leaned closer. “Do you feel the same, Harry? Is this what you want,” he asked, voice rough. He pressed his thigh forward deliberately, nudging Harry’s erection. Harry’s breath hitched. “This?”
Harry couldn’t speak. He nodded, frantic, hips rolling forward without permission, chasing the delicious friction his muscular thigh was providing.
Sirius’s eyes darkened. “Use your words, love.”
“Please,” Harry managed. It came out broken. “I’ve wanted you for years. Since- God, since fifth year, maybe before. I love you so much it hurts and I don’t know how to- ”
Sirius kissed him- it was slow, almost testing at first, then deeper as Harry grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him closer. Sirius made a soft noise against his mouth, relief and need tangled together, years of longing finally breaking free.
They broke apart at the same time, both breathing hard. Harry had become frantic in his grinding, but his hips were trapped between the wall and Sirius’s larger frame, limiting his range, causing him to moan out in frustration. “Sirius, please.”
“Oh, baby,” he whispered. “You only had to ask.”
Then he was kissing Harry again, turning and walking him backward until Harry’s knees hit the sofa and they tumbled down together. Harry ended up straddling Sirius’s lap, hands shaking as he tried to unbutton Sirius’s shirt.
Sirius caught his wrists. “Slow,” he said firmly. “We’re doing this properly.”
Harry growled, making Sirius chuckle darkly.
Sirius flipped them so fast Harry’s head spun, pressing him down into the cushions. “You’ve been such a brat the last few weeks,” he said, pressing his mouth against Harry’s throat. “Time you learned some manners.”
Harry arched up, gasping as Sirius bit down just above his collarbone. “Yes- please-”
“Good boy.”
The praise went straight to Harry’s cock. He writhed as Sirius stripped him slowly, reverently, kissing every inch of skin he revealed. When Sirius’s mouth closed around his nipple, Harry cried out, fingers tangling in long black hair.
Bringing his lips back up to Harry’s, Sirius kissed him again, slower this time, savoring the fact that he finally could. Harry melted into it, his nails scraping against Sirius’s scalp gently, tugging just enough to make the older man groan.
“Years,” Sirius murmured against Harry’s lips. ““You’ve been driving me insane for years. All that flirting. All that touching.””
“Thought I was making it obvious,” Harry whispered.
“Well now it is,” Sirius growled softly as dipped his hand into Harry’s trousers and wrapped a hand around his cock.
Harry groaned wildly, his hips twitching, pressing his stiff length further into Sirius’s grasp nearly coming on the spot.
“Not yet,” Sirius growled. He pinned Harry’s hips down. “You come when I say,” leaning down and resuming their kiss, his tongue searching out every sweet corner of his mouth. Harry parted his lips wider, sucking at the invading appendage causing Sirius to groan, a deep and dirty sound that hit every pleasure center at once.
Harry’s hands were everywhere- Sirius’s chest, his shoulders, his jaw. He tugged Sirius’s shirt up and Sirius broke the kiss just long enough to tear it over his head and toss it aside.
Harry let out a shaky breath and he ran his hands over the prominent muscles on Sirius’s torso.
Sirius smirked. “Like what you see?”
“I’ve been imagining my mouth on it for years.”
Sirius’s expression broke, it was heat and softness all at once, and he dropped to his knees between Harry’s legs.
“Let’s finish what we started, hmm?”
Harry’s eyes were wide, his pupils blown out as he watched Sirius’s hands slide up his thighs, slow, and teasing, thumbs stroking circles that made him shiver.
“S–Sirius- ”
“Tell me to stop and I will,” Sirius murmured, kissing the inside of Harry’s knee. “But I don’t think you want me to.”
Harry didn’t. God, he didn’t.
He pulled Harry’s trousers down enough to free the evidence of Harry’s desire- full, flushed, and straining, a bead of pre-cum pearled at the tip.
Sirius inhaled sharply, leaning forward to press his lips to the tip.
“Look at you. So fucking beautiful. Mine now. All mine.”
Harry tipped his head back against the sofa, thighs tightening around Sirius’s shoulders. “Sirius, Merlin, I need- please.”
Sirius grinned, wicked and adoring and moved his mouth to Harry’s navel. “Begging already? Oh but, I like you needy.”
He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, a firm grasp meant to control more than incite, making Harry jolt.
“Sirius- god.”
“You’ve been torturing me,” Sirius murmured, kissing Harry’s hipbone. “All those little hints. All the ways you touched me. And I convinced myself it meant nothing.”
His mouth trailed closer.
Harry’s hands flew to Sirius’s hair as Sirius’s lips finally closed around him- warm, soft, sucking gently at first, then deeper. Harry choked on a moan, back arching.
“Oohhh Fuck”
Sirius hummed around him, and Harry’s vision blurred.
Sirius’s hands anchored Harry’s hips, keeping him still as he worked his mouth with slow, devastating precision- like he was savoring every reaction, every gasp, every twitch.
Harry tugged roughly at his hair and Sirius groaned, the vibration shooting pleasure straight through Harry’s spine.
“You’re killing me,” Harry gasped.
Sirius pulled off just long enough to murmur against the head, “Oh, sweetheart, I’m just getting started.”
Harry whimpered- actually whimpered- and Sirius’s pupils blew wide with desire.
Sirius stood suddenly, grabbed Harry by the hips, and pulled him up with him.
“Bedroom,” he said, voice rough. “Before I do something wild on the sitting-room floor.”
Harry laughed breathlessly. “I wouldn’t complain.”
Sirius kissed him hard. “I want you so badly it’s terrifying. But I want our first time in a bed. Not rushed, and not halfway dressed.”
Harry swallowed. “Okay.”
Sirius ushered him out of the room, stepping on his trousers on the way out of the room so that Harry was fully bared to his heated gaze. Unable to keep his hands to himself, it took twice as long to reach Harry’s bedroom as it normally would, but watching the way Harry’s arse swayed as he walked up the stairs had been impossible to ignore. An arse like that, begged to be groped.
The moment the door shut behind them, Sirius pushed Harry gently against it and kissed him senseless. Harry tugged Sirius’s trousers open and Sirius hissed when Harry’s hand slid inside, stroking him with a firm grip.
“Fuck baby,” Sirius’s forehead dropped to Harry’s shoulder. “I’m trying to go slow.”
“Don’t,” Harry whispered. “Not tonight.”
Sirius lifted him, letting Harry wrap his legs around his waist, their naked chests pressed together in a slide of silk on muscle. He carried him to the bed stepping out of his denims as he went, and set him down, crawling over him, kissing him like he needed it more than his next breath.
Sirius kissed Harry’s chest, his stomach, the sharp line of his hip, leaving marks that made Harry squirm.
“Mine,” he murmured between kisses. “Finally mine.”
Harry pulled him up and kissed him fiercely. “Yours.”
Sirius groaned as their bodies lined up perfectly, heat grinding against heat until Harry cried out.
“Please,” Harry gasped. “Sirius, I need-”
Sirius reached for the drawer, grabbed what they needed, and met Harry’s eyes. He bent his head low and whispered an incantation into his ear. Harry gasped as he felt a tingling in his bowls, realizing that it must have been a cleaning spell Sirius had just used.
“I’ll take care of you.” Sirius whispered next, as he lubed up his fingers and trailed them down to his opening.
Harry sobbed with frustration and pleasure as Sirius opened him up with careful, slick fingers. All he could do was spread his legs wider, beg in broken whispers. “Please- Sirius- need you inside me- please-”
With slow, careful preparation that made Harry arch and clutch at him, Sirius pumped his fingers into his tight channel, spreading them slightly and scraping his teeth against the beautifully pale skin laid before him. He whispered promises and words of love against Harry’s skin as he slowly crawled his way back up and settled in between his thighs.
When Sirius finally pushed in, a slow and relentless thrust of his cock into perfectly slick, tight, heat, Harry saw stars. Sirius was big, stretching him open, and it burned beautifully. He bottomed out and stilled, letting Harry adjust, kissing him with deep and filthy strokes of his tongue.
“Breathe, love,” he murmured into Harry's mouth. “I’ve got you. You feel fucking unbelievable around my cock, sweetheart. I'm going to start moving now, think you can handle it?”
At Harry’s frantic nod he started to move.
They moved slowly at first, learning each other’s rhythm- Harry lifting into him, Sirius holding him close, kissing his neck, whispering how good he felt.
Then Harry said, “Harder.”
Sirius growled. Actually growled.
Sirius began fucking him like he was claiming every lost year they had wasted dancing around each other, deep, punishing strokes that nailed Harry’s prostate on every thrust. Harry clung to him, his nails raking down his back while he moaned into Sirius’s mouth.
“Such a good boy,” Sirius praised, voice ragged. “Taking me so well. You’re mine now, Harry. Say it.”
“Yours,” Harry gasped. “Always yours- fuck- Sirius-”
Sirius flipped him over, pressed his chest to the mattress and took him from behind, one hand fisted in his hair, the other stroking Harry’s cock in perfect rhythm. Harry came with a scream, clenching hard around Sirius, vision whiting out. Sirius followed seconds later, spilling deep inside him, whispering into his hair as his hips twitched in time with his release, “I love you- I love you- I love you-”
Sirius bowed over Harry’s slick and trembling form, kissing between his shoulder blades as his arms locked around Harry like he would never let go.
After a while they shifted so they were laying facing each other, their chests still heaving, sweaty foreheads touching, both smiling like loons.
Sirius kissed him softly. “Merry Christmas, love.”
Harry smiled, exhausted, blissed-out, completely undone.
“Best Christmas I’ve ever had.”
Sirius laughed breathlessly and pulled him close. Harry whispered into his chest, “I still didn’t get you a Christmas gift.”
“You did,” Sirius said, brushing his lips against Harry’s hair. “You gave me the only thing I’ve wanted for years.”
Harry smiled.
“Next time you’re jealous,” Sirius grumbled, but with the smile still clear in his voice, “use your words before you start letting perfectly good food go to waste.”
Harry bit his pec. “Make me.”
Sirius rolled them over, pinning Harry beneath him with a wicked grin.
“Oh, I will,” he promised. “Starting now.”
Harry’s laughter turned into a moan as Sirius kissed his way down his body, starting something that wouldn’t end for a long, long time.