#on the line lumosinlove

[lumosinlove]

Knut in the stands of course, watching Tremblay play along side the coach they share, Finn O’Hara…You rarely see one without the others, isn’t that right? Some whispers going on there.

[iluvchick3nz]

Can we see the cubs being adorable and clingy?(clingy in a good way!!) like after they come out just publicly hanging off of each other and being in their own little world🥹

That night at that one bar, Logan had spent nearly the whole time pressed into Leo’s side just… content. Just at ease. So at ease.- Vaincre Ch. 27, lumosinlove

I read this prompt and IMMEDIATELY thought of this moment in Vaincre. So have my vision of how Tweedle perceived it, along with some implied pining and some O'Hara wisdom.

All credits to @lumosinlove !!

Luke tapped his fingers along the side of his beer glass. His short nails clinked against it lightly, a soft undertone to the loud music and chatter that surrounded him. He was sat in the middle of the room, a place that he didn’t really like to be normally, but there were no other spots available when he arrived. Next to him, Alex O’Hara and Percy Marshall were playing some sort of card game. Luke didn’t know what it was, but it seemed complex and had been going on when he had sat down. That was over an hour ago. 

He stretched his neck, closing his eyes briefly against the feeling. His eyes, when they opened, were staring at the section of the bar where there were high tops. Logan was sat on a stool with a rum and coke in front of him. He looked a bit sleepy and was leaning against someone- Leo, Luke realized.

He observed silently for a moment. Leo was laughing and talking to Will Morgan and his wife, Ray. He was standing, tall, even for a professional hockey player, and his laugh reverberated around the space. Logan pressed closer to him, ducking under Leo’s arm, his own coming to wrap around Leo’s waist. Leo looked down at him with a smile, kissed his forehead, then went back to talking with Will and Ray. Logan didn’t move his gaze from Leo for a second, though, just rested his chin on Leo’s chest to look up at him. Leo gave no obvious indication that he realized Logan was gazing at him, but he did bring his hand up to run a thumb over Logan’s jaw.

Suddenly, as if from thin air, Finn appeared by their sides. He clapped Will’s hand, kissed Ray’s cheek, then went over to his boyfriends. His cheeks and ears were flushed, obviously a bit tipsy, as he bent to kiss Logan’s cheek repeatedly. Logan laughed, scrunching his nose, but he was obviously pleased. Leo looked happy, too, and soft, until Finn leaned over Logan’s head to press those same kisses to his face. Then, he opened up, almost like a flower, curls bouncing with his laughter. Luke got why they called him the sun. 

Logan, in between the two of them, just looked happy, content. He had an arm resting on each of their ribs. When Finn pulled away, he started talking to rapidly, a hand on each of them, mindlessly touching. They didn’t seem aware, nor to care, that Will and Ray were still there. They had watched amusedly, but now were talking to Saint, who was at the high top next to them. Luke’s breath caught. 

“Ugh, they’re so gross,” Alex scoffed from beside Luke, breaking him from his reverie. “It’s like they don’t even realize it.”

Luke just turned to him, eyebrows raised. “I think Finn’s just a little tipsy, too.”

Percy laughed. “Yeah, he kind of goes crazy when that happens.” The cards in his hands slapped against one another as he shuffled them. “It’s nice, though. It was tough, watching him and Logan in college, sometimes. But they figured their shit out- and Leo is good at keeping them honest, too. He’s good for the both of them.”

Alex nodded solemnly. “Yeah, they really needed him. Need him.” He looked contemplatively at his younger brother. “He makes it all easier, I think.”

Luke furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

Alex shrugged. “He’s part of them allowing themselves to love each other. By loving him, they are okay loving one another, too.” He looked serious. “And I think- well, Leo makes them being public easier, too. From what Finn’s told me, he was always sure of who he was, what they were, even if they, especially Logan, were nervous. Or afraid.”

Luke nodded, biting his lip as he turned back to look across the bar. Leo was now talking to the both of them. He looked like he was telling a story, the light reflecting off his blonde curls as they bobbed with his head. Logan had his head leaning against Leo’s bicep, tucked in close and safe. Finn, seemingly without knowing once again, had Leo’s hand in his own, pressing soft kisses to the back of it and up his forearm. Leo didn’t even look phased. He smiled at Finn, and nicked his cheekbone with his pointer finger, but didn’t stop telling his story. Finn was nodding rapidly along. He replied to something Leo had said, and it must have been snarky, because Logan turned with a wide grin to contribute. In sync, they both looked at Leo. He just shook his head and rolled his eyes fondly at them. 

“Luke?” 

Luke jerked, turning to Alex, who was looking at him strangely. “Yeah?”

Alex ran his tongue over his lips. It was brief, but Luke saw his eyes flash over to where they both knew Saint still was. “You okay?”

Luke swallowed. “Mhm.”

Alex looked him up and down. When his eyes met Luke’s, they were the most serious Luke had ever seen them. “Sometimes you can’t make it easier. Here, out in the world. But you can choose to try.”

Luke just stared at him. His body felt hot, and his chest felt a tug, as if a string was pulling on it. Probably pulling it right across the bar to the other high top table. 

“Uh, Hazard? Tweedle? The fuck is going on?”

The look in Alex’s eyes vanished as quickly as it had come, and he turned that signature O’Hara grin on Percy. “Nothing, Perseus.” He nudged Luke with his elbow. “Just letting Luke here know that it will hurt for you both to lose, but that you can try not to, anyways.”

Percy narrowed his eyes at Alex’s smile, but sighed. “Fine. Fine, that’s not it, but I’ll let it slide.” He flipped his hat backwards. “Game fucking on.”

Alex turned to look at Luke. His smile was still playful, but his eyes were back to serious. “You dealing in, Tweeds?”

Luke took a deep breath. He glanced to Saint, then to Logan, head against Leo’s shoulder and fingers laced with Finn’s, then to Alex and Percy . “Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m dealing in.”

[oneluckygoose]

O'Knutzy Week Day 4

AHHHH DAY 4 MY FAVORITE OF EVERYTHING, ALL OF THESE FICS ARE SO GOOD Y'ALL!!!! [Again, this is a scheduled post and was written in June :')]

Credits to the writer, the myth, the LEGEND, @lumosinlove for all of these lovely characters and to @oknutzy-week-2024 for just being wonderful, (I'm sure they are, I don't actually know them, I've put them through enough at this point with the hell it is to schedule these things, and they haven't yelled at me yet, so I take that as a win)

Part two of my racing fic When We Can't Pretend (the name will probably make more sense now, poetic title and all) is out officially now, congrats to everyone who didn't read it yesterday as well. To all those who did, how'd ya like it? As with all Harvard Era FinLo, things are good and happy until they really aren't, this is the "really aren't" part, fair warning. ANYWAY, enjoy!

Summary: Finn confronts Logan about what happened in the car a few hours earlier and he gets his soul crushed.

Characters: Finn O'Hara, Logan Tremblay, Percy Lastname

Warnings: Cursing, Pain, Mentions of Past Injury, and emotional damage

Word Count: 2,096 (Preview of 238 under cut)

“Now explain to me again about this ‘natural talent?’” Percy questioned as they all settled at a table. They had decided to go to the nearby country club for dinner: it was large, doubled as a weird rich hangout, but it was supposed to have some good food, with a nice eating area. “I told you, not natural,” Finn retorted, rolling his eyes, “My grandparents lived next to a track up in Maine. Me and Alex would race all the time when we were up there for the summers.” Focus, focus, focus, Finn’s mind screamed at him as Percy kept talking. God, Finn couldn’t stop thinking about Logan, his mouth, his hands, the fire in his lips. It didn’t help that Logan was now pressed up against him in the tight booth. A waitress came up to get their drinks, and soon the conversation moved on from the racing. Finn could feel Logan beside him, reaching his hands up constantly to mess with his hat. It drove Finn wild, but he kept his eyes anywhere but Logan. He couldn’t look. Something, something, simmered inside of him; he couldn't name what, though. It got stronger every time Logan elbowed him, or threw his hand around his shoulder, or simply acted like everything was normal. Like Finn couldn’t still feel Logan’s hand in his hair and his teeth and tongue. It hurt, this game of pretend they were both playing.

[fruitcoops]

With a Twist

Chapter 12 of the illustrious fic Solntse has an utterly adorable line in it, and I thought it would be cute for Coops to say it in their own way, so...free will! Silly little scene rewrite for the hockey boys in yet another world where they fall in love. Credit for both Solntse and Sweater Weather belongs to @lumosinlove!

TW for implied smut (past) (but like less than five minutes past)

“Evil to me.” Sirius’ sigh gusts across Remus’ collarbone, warming his skin even as the sweat cools. He huffs, groans, and buries his face deeper into the bend of Remus’ neck. “Always. Malveillant. Esprit de tourment.”

Remus snorts. “Aren’t you poetic?”

“Hmm,” is his only answer. But it comes with a smile pressed to his jaw, so he supposes it’s alright.

Sirius is heavy against him—deliciously so, from the long weight of his arm across Remus’ bare chest to the leg pinning his whole left side from the hip down. Remus flexes his hand; he’s still a little tired from holding that thing up and out of the way. Sirius had hardly rolled over as much as he had rolled onto Remus, heart still racing from post-coital bliss. And, Remus muses, using the last trickling bits of his consciousness to make up poetry about the utter torment Remus apparently wrought on his poor frail self.

He gives Sirius another five-count before raising his head an inch off the pillow to peek down at him. “Still suffering?”

“Mm.”

Remus smiles, though Sirius has yet to open his eyes. “Still French?”

“Ouais.”

“You’re so cute like this.”

“How?” The ‘h’ is softer than usual, almost invisible as it shivers across the span of Remus’ throat.

“Post-fuck.”

“Loup.”

Remus hums, gathering him a little closer with a gentle squeeze. His arm, too, is trapped beneath the heft of Sirius’ body. “I dunno, you’re all…cuddly, and toasty, and I can really feel how strong you are when you lay on me like this.”

“Smush?”

“No,” he laughs, kissing Sirius’ forehead for good measure. He’s exhausted—clearly, they both are—but he also kinda wants to lick the salt off every inch of Sirius. “Well, yeah, but I like it. You’re more clingy. It makes me feel good, ‘cause it means you feel good, and you’re always an octopus and that’s always great but it’s even better when I know I did that for you.”

A beat of silence falls.

Remus feels his face warm all over again and drags his free hand across his eyes. Maybe he was more tired than he thought. “So. That was a lot of words to say that I just…love you a lot. All the time.”

“Called me something.”

Remus frowns. “Huh?”

“You called me something.” There’s a crease in Sirius’ brow, though his eyes are still closed. “I’m forgetting.”

“Uh…clingy?”

“Non. Ott…opta…”

Remus wracks his memory. “Octopus?”

A sudden, sharp snap makes him jump. “C’est ça.”

“For real?”

“Swear to god,” Sirius snorts, shaking his head as much as Remus’ shoulder will allow. “I have no idea.”

“I call you that all the time,” Remus laughs as he teases his fingers over Sirius’ bare ribs to make him squirm. His protests are mostly muffled (and mostly French), but he doesn’t roll away. Remus lowers his head to the round of his shoulder, brought high for now to hide Sirius’ pink cheeks. “You wrap yourself around me like one. With the arms and everything.”

Sirius’ confusion is clear even with his eyes closed.

“You know, like…” Remus presses one fingertip to the valley of his spine with a soft pop noise. Sirius cracks an eye open at last, so he crooks a second to join it, walking them up to his nape with more sucker-sounds that make Sirius grin. Remus feels him shiver when he presses a smile to the curve of his bicep before opening his mouth for an open-mouthed kiss to the skin—and another, slightly to the left, and another, and another, picking up the pace while he draws Sirius close with both arms. Tiny red-purple marks adorn the site of each kiss; they’ll fade fast, but Sirius’ growing laughter won’t.

Sirius hoots when Remus sinks his teeth in a little harder, breathless and smiling up at him for the second time that evening as amusement wracks him. “D’accord, un poulpe, I got it, I got it.”

“Pulp.”

“Poulpe.”

“Pool?”

“Pool-puh.” Sirius pops the second syllable at him from where he’s spread so prettily on their pillows. A kiss follows hot on its heels. “Octopus,” Sirius mumbles into his mouth, licking forward like he can take the word back for himself. “Taking advantage of me.”

Remus lets himself indulge for a few more seconds before answering. “I was answering your question.”

“Fucked out. Don’t know English.” Sirius’ teeth flash over his lower lip. “Talking fast.”

Being wrapped in his arms, trapped in them, is everything Remus could ask for with a thousand words. He’s happy it takes none at all.

[sophsicle]

there's a scene in vaincre by lumosinlove, where these two characters (leo and finn) are talking about relationships they've been in where they've had to hide, and leo says something like "it wasn't his fault, he was just scared. we were all just scared." and finn says "still, there's a way to treat a person"

and this is how i know that i am deeply emotionally repressed.

because no mcd has ever made be sob as much as that line.

it's not even a particularly sad moment in that fic (like it is but it isn't)

but.

there's a way to treat a person.

we were all scared. but you didn't need to cut me open like that. you didn't need to shove me aside. you didn't need to look through me. we were all scared but you still could have been kind. surely. kinder, at least, than the things we were scared of.

there's a way to treat a person.

[thatssomuchlove]

Fic-o-Ween Day 1

For Fic-o-Ween 2024 put on by @noots-fic-fests! All characters by @lumosinlove

The first (and hopefully not only) chapter inspired by the Mafia AU invented on the Hazelnoot discord server:

Sitting on the couch in his apartment living room, Leo was interrupted from struggling not to let his eyes skip lines during a very suspenseful moment in his book when he heard a loud crash from the kitchen. He jumped up and swung around the door jam to see all his nice pans on the floor…again.

His roommate looked up at him with wide eyes from where he stood by the coffee maker, “I swear I didn’t touch it!”

Leo sighed, “It’s not your fault, Finn. That rack keeps falling down because apparently these wall anchors do not hold their advertised weight!” He huffed. The cabinet space in their tiny New York apartment was abysmal, so hanging up his pans like they do in those fancy kitchens with marble counters or copper detailing seemed like the best option.

“Could also be these shitty walls,” Finn chirped and tapped the wall behind him.

“Yeah, that too,” Leo returned Finn’s grin and could tell he was also thinking about how well they can hear the music from the online Zumba class that one of their neighbors attends religiously. “I’m just going to have to get a stud finder at the hardware store. You have a drill, right?” Finn grimaced and shook his head. “Then a drill set, too.”

Finn clapped a hand on his shoulder as he brushed by with his travel mug, “I would offer to go with, but I’m headed into the office.”

“What? Finn, it’s Saturday.”

“A journalist never rests!” And he was out the door.

Leo looked at the small tear through the dry wall from the anchor being ripped out forcefully and sighed again. He stacked his pans on a clear spot on the counter and went to collect what he needed for a walk to the hardware store.

~

The bell on the door jingled overhead as Leo entered the shop. The closest one he could find on maps seemed to be a family-run place without much information on the page at all—just the open hours and a handful of reviews, no website or pictures of the inside. Leo would have to agree with kathybee309, it was surprisingly warm and inviting as soon as he stepped inside. He couldn’t see the check-out counter from the door, but clear, handwritten indices at each aisle directed Leo to the stud finders. He was holding two options in his hands, trying to think of a reason he shouldn’t just get the cheapest one, when a soft voice spoke up to his right.

“Are you finding everything you need?”

Leo noted an accent and looked up quickly only to almost drop what he was holding. The employee that spoke to him was decently shorter than him and had a combination of curly chocolate hair, bright green eyes, and prominent muscles—truly the way his heavy apron cinched around his waist and barely covered the width his denim-wrapped thighs was criminal—that had Leo a bit weak at the knees. “Umm, hi, yeah I think I’m um good,” he stammered. “Just,” a nervous laugh, “trying to decide.” Leo held up the stud finders and tried to make his smile friendly and not as painfully awkward as he currently felt.

The store employee walked closer to him and examined the options in his hands before meeting his eyes again. At this distance Leo could read his nametag: Logan. “What are you working on?”

“Oh, I’m just trying to hang up my pans. The darn wall rack keeps falling out, so I decided to go a little more heavy duty than dry wall anchors.” He held up one of the stud finders and tried to joke, “need some studs.” Logan gave him a smile, small and breathtaking.

“Well, they’ll both work for that, but this simpler one should be sufficient,” Logan tapped his finger on the cheaper one. Yeah, Leo would say that they were working just fine considering the person in front of him. “Is that all?”

“Yep,” Leo nodded, no thoughts in his brain.

“Trés bon, you can follow me back to check out.” Logan jerked his head back the way he had come and started down the aisle. Leo hurriedly put the other stud finder back and trailed after Logan, almost tripping when he noticed the way his ass moved in those tight jeans. He kept his eyes fixed on the back of Logan’s head for the rest of the short walk to the register.

It wasn’t until Leo had closed his apartment door behind him that he realized that he completely forgot about the drill. He leaned against the door and cursed quietly. At least this time he would be prepared for the hardware store hottie and maybe not make quite as big of a fool out of himself.

~

He had decided to give it a day, with the hope that Logan would not be working so that he could avoid further embarrassment. The other half of his brain really wanted to see the hot employee again, convinced that this time he would be able to successfully flirt.

“This is a terrible idea,” Leo murmured under his breath as he rounded the sidewalk and came upon the beautifully carved dark red-brown doors set into the corner of the building.

He beelined to the drill section upon entering and luckily didn’t have as much trouble choosing this time. He came from a Milwaukee household. His eyes bugged out a bit when he saw the prices, “Jesus, that’s expensive.” Good thing his new job paid pretty well.

“We actually have a sale going for those right now.” Leo jumped at the voice behind him and turned to see a familiar, unfairly handsome face.

“Logan, hi,” Leo recovered quickly and came to the conclusion that he would have been far more disappointed to not see Logan today.

“I feel a bit at a disadvantage with you knowing my name when I don’t know yours.”

“Oh lord, where are my manners? My name’s Leo,” and he reached out to shake Logan’s warm, callused hand. He couldn’t squash the urge to explain himself, “I realized yesterday that a stud finder is a little useless without a drill and screws .”

Logan turned to the opposite shelves and scanned them for a second before picking up a box of screws. “These should work well for dry wall and studs.”

Leo offered a winning smile, “What would I do without you?” and took the box from Logan, quite possibly deliberately brushing their fingers together.

Logan looked up at him for a beat too long before stepping back. He cleared his throat, “Just doing my job. Do you need anything else?”

After taking a quick survey of what was in his hands—drill, drill bits, screws—Leo responded, “nope,” and followed Logan to the counter. In effort to keep the conversation going as Logan was ringing him up, he commented, “the front doors are gorgeous.”

“Merci. That was a long project, but one of my favorites. I can’t stand painted front doors.”

Leo chuckled, “Neither can my mama.” He looked behind him in the direction of the front of the store, “I can’t believe you made them,” turning back to look at Logan again, “y- that’s incredible.”

He was rewarded with another small smile, but this one had a tinge of something sad, “Oh I didn’t do them on my own. I was mainly helping my father. This whole store was his passion project.”

“Hell of a successful passion project, I bet I’d be astonished to see what he could accomplish with his day job!”

Logan’s smile twisted confusingly wry, “His day job wasn’t as important to him,” then that same sadness again, “But we’ll never really know what all he could have done, he passed several years ago.”

Trying to temper his shame of talking with Logan about his dead father with the fact that Logan brought him up, Leo erased the shock off his face and brought one hand up to squeeze Logan’s shoulder, “I’m sure he feels at peace knowing you are carrying on the legacy of what he loved.”

“Well, he’s not the only legacy-carrier, are you Lo Bear?” a voice called, and a young woman emerged from the back. Leo dropped his hand. If he hadn’t already guessed that they were related from her statement, he would have known just by looking at her. They could have been twins, but her green eyes were piercing through him where Logan’s were a warm, solid weight.

Logan, with color on his cheeks, huffed, “Leo, this is my sister Noelle.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Noelle.”

“Likewise,” she cocked her head at him. “What brings you here this fine Sunday morning?”

“Oh, just trying to hang stuff up in my kitchen. Not enough cabinet space.”

“An eternal struggle in Gryffindor.”

Leo chuckled, “Yeah, I’m finding that out.”

“Did you move here recently?”

“Yes, actually I moved here only a few months ago.”

“For a job?”

Leo was starting to get slightly unnerved by the accuracy of her guesses but tried not to let it show, “yes ma’am.” Logan had finished putting his things into a bag and pushed it his way while glaring at his sister. He looked between the siblings for a second before politely saying, “well I’ll let y’all get back to work. It was nice to see you again, Logan.”

Logan turned back to him and his gaze softened, “come back any time, Leo.”

~

As soon as Logan heard the sound of the door swinging shut behind Leo, Noelle jumped up and hastily looked around the store, but it was empty. She turned back towards Logan, who furrowed his brows at her.

“Thank god I was here today. You need to be more careful, Lolo.”

“Quoi?” Logan looked around in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Are Jackson and Evgeni here?”

“Ouais, of course. What’s going on?” Logan’s eyes started darting around the store and his fingers gravitated towards the handgun strapped to the underside of the counter.

“Nothing right now.” Noelle flashed him a quick smirk, “I thought you were just flirting with a customer and wanted to come out and see, but then I got a good look at him. The tall blond cutie pie is not what he seems, he’s the newest detective on the Gryffindor police force.” At Logan’s wide eyes, she tacked on, “Ouais, the ones who would have us in handcuffs if they even so much as caught a whiff of what’s going on.”

“Merde,” Logan breathed out. While he wouldn’t have pegged Leo as a cop in a million years, he could see how his underlying air of quiet confidence would make him an effective detective. Still, he seemed too genuine to be at the shop secretly sniffing around for a case, and Logan had a good bullshit detector, “I will be more careful, Noelle, but I don’t think that’s why he was here.”

“I trust you, Logan, just don’t let that pretty smile blind you.” Noelle ruffled his hair and stepped back, “I’m gonna head back to Maman’s. I love you.”

“I love you too, Nolly.” Logan waved goodbye and waited until she was out of sight before he sat down with a loud exhale, running a hand through his hair.

He wished that knowing Leo was, in essence, his enemy had halted his fantasies about the man altogether, but it had unfortunately and predictably only intensified his desire. It was unusual for him to feel a connection with someone so quickly, without really knowing them at all, but Leo was special somehow, just like… Logan shook his head.

Why was such a seemingly sweet guy working for such a corrupt system? Why did Logan have the urge to trust him anyway? He opened his laptop and set to find out everything that he could about Leo, the new detective at GPD, for his family’s safety, of course.

[klairewritesthings]

So I demolished all of the cannon Sweater Weather content in like four days and have been reading fan content non stop since. So here's my little take on it. Thank you so much to @lumosinlove for creating this beautiful universe and letting us play in it. I would love any requests for other ideas, seriously I can't get enough of these hockey boys.

TW for overworking oneself to the point of collapse, mentions of nausea and vomiting (no one throws up), and general angst

Skate, strides long, smooth, fast but don't rush. Bounce the puck off the wall, catch it, cradle don't scoop, loop around the goal, shoot, ping, who misses the net without a fucking goalie, surely not a professional NHL player, go again, watch your lines, take the shot, what the fuck is wrong with you, Sirius leaning on the boards with that sleepy look in his eye, go again- wait, what?

Remus halted so hard and fast that if he hadn't been on artificial ice shavings would have sprayer all over his boyfriend. Remus panted, taking a panicked look at the clock that hung on the wall. Had he lost track of time? But no, 6:07 blinked at him in harsh red. Sirius never got up earlier than nine the morning after a game, which should have left Remus plenty of time to shower and sneak back into bed like nothing had happened.

"What are you doing up so early?" He gasped out, lungs heaving. Fuck, he ached. No, burned. His thighs were on fire, calves cramping, joints shaking at the mere act of holding himself up. Not to mention his shoulder twinging at every little twist and pull, forcing him to hold back a wince.

Sirius just rose an eyebrow, "I could be asking you the same thing." Remus shrugged, bypassing the question, knowing that actually I never went to sleep because I snuck out of our bedroom to watch two hours of tape and then run drills for three hours would not be an acceptable answer.

"How long have you been standing there?" How many open goals did you see me miss.

Sirius mimicked his shrug, maybe a little mockingly, and Remus swallowed thickly. So he was in trouble, then.

"I woke up and you weren't there." Remus licked his lips and tried to come up with an answer that wouldn't end in a fight. Sirius beat him to it. "Baby, what are you doing? You practically spent the whole night on the ice," If only you knew how true that was. "You need rest after a game like that."

"I just need to get this play right. I'm almost done, go back to bed." Sirius' eyes went from worried to hard in less than a heart beat, Remus shrinking under the heat of his gaze.

"Non."

"No?"

"Non, you're not going to get that play right, Remus." Remus nearly flinched. He knew he'd played badly last night, but to hear the unbelief from Sirius himself stung. Sirius' face softened a little, holding out his hand. "Come here, mon amour."

Remus hesitated for a moment, unsure, but eventually skated the distance to the board, his knees and ankles groaning in protest. Sirius took his hand, removing his glove and gently kissing his finger tips.

"You aren't going to get that play while you're still exhausted and over worked. Your body needs rest, baby. It can't work on empty. You taught me that." Remus closed his eyes, taking a breath and trying to hold back the tears that suddenly burned behind his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"For what, love?"

"The game." The silence stretched on so long that he opened his eyes, Sirius' face blurring before him. He had that little furrow between his brows he only got when he was worried, or trying to figure out a particularly complex play.

"I'm not following." Remus' breath hitched and he could feel a lump growing in his throat.

"I missed your pass." Sirius' brow furrowed further.

"And? I missed a goal, Remus, it's hockey, it happens."

"Not to me." Sirius' eyebrows shot up, incredulous. Remus had to close his eyes against the judgement he was sure had to be brewing there. "It didn't use to happen to me... before." His voice had grown small, shaking. There was a pause, and then his face was being cradled between warm hands, callused from holding a stick all his life, fingers crooked from where they had bent around the shape of it. Warm lips pressed against his brow.

"Mon loup, you are an incredible hockey player. You were before, and you are now." Remus shook his head, feeling the first traitorous tears begin to slip down his face.

"I'm so out of practice, Sirius. I can't catch up all of you, I can't even catch up to myself, to what I used to be able to do."

"You don't need to catch up to anyone, you're already there. You played beautifully last night, you always do. We lost as a team. You cannot carry every loss by yourself, let us shoulder it with you, baby." Remus couldn't help but laugh a little, listing forward to rest his forehead against Sirius'.

"Now where have I heard that before?" Sirius smiled into the kiss he pressed against Remus' lips."

"A very wise physical therapist told me that." Remus chuckled, hand coming up to rest where Sirius' were gently cradling his neck, fingers running through the sweat damp hair that curled there. "Why don't we shower and go back to bed, ouis?" Remus nodded a little.

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good." Sirius smiled, holding out a hand to help him over the boards.

Remus got one leg over before the world started spinning. Sirius caught him under the shoulders, taking most of Remus' weight while he tried to get his feet back under him.

"Merde," Sirius grunted out. "Baby, you okay?" Remus blinked hard, realizing the blurry halo surrounding his boyfriend's face wasn't just tears.

"Yeah... yeah sorry, I'm just a little..." Remus trailed off, body suddenly feeling heavy as black dots floated in his vision. He could hear Sirius' panicked voice, feel him lowering Remus to the ground, cupping the back of his head.

Remus felt like he was floating, vaguely feeling the ache of his sore body but unable to get it to move. He wasn't sure how long the world stayed out of focus, Sirius' strained words muffled. It felt like the TV static he remember zipping through his fingers when he touched the screen as a little kid.

Finally, slowly, things began to sharpen. Unfortunately that meant the pain in his legs and shoulder amplified ten fold. He couldn't help but let out a groan through clenched teeth.

"Remus, mon amour, can you hear me?" Remus went to nod but another wave of dizziness over took him, forcing himself to snap his eyes shut again and work through the growing nausea. He settled on a strained "Mhmm". He felt the gasped breath of relief over his flushed skin.

"Talk to me baby, what's happening? Do I need to call Hestia? Moody? An ambulance?" Sirius was sounding more and more panicked with each rambled word, hands flitting nervously over Remus' body as if he would break him.

Remus swallowed a few times, making sure he wasn't about to be sick, before grunting out, "M' fine." He squinted up at Sirius' face, unable to keep up with how quickly it was switching between incredibly worried and furious.

"You are not fine. You just collapsed." Sirius was angry, but Remus could hear the tears in his voice.

"I'm sorry". Sirius' face crumpled.

"No, baby, don't- don't be sorry, just tell me what to do." Remus nodded, licking at his chapped lips.

"Can you get me a gatorade?" Sirius slumped a little, seemingly relieved at having a task to complete.

"Yeah, yeah une seconde". He scrambled up, all of his usual grace disappeared, and jogged over to the stocked fridge they kept within reaching distance. In seconds he had returned, already uncapping a yellow gatorade. Remus couldn't help the little grin that quirked at his lips.

"My favorite."

"Of course. Here, let me help." Sirius rested a hand at Remus' back, slowly helping to sit him up before tilting the bottle to his lips.

Remus forced himself to take slow sips, even though he was suddenly so thirsty he felt like he was dying. He was pretty sure Sirius would combust if he threw up right now. The liquid soothed his throat and slowed the spinning of the world.

"Better?" Sirius asked, Remus humming in reply. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Sirius holding the bottle until Remus stopped shaking enough to grasp it on his own. He moved down to Remus' skates, beginning to untie them.

"How long have you been down here?" Sirius didn't look up from his task, and Remus was grateful for the space he was being granted.

"A few hours." Sirius winced, but just slid his first boot off.

"Did you sleep?"

"Not really."

"Eat?"

"...No." Sirius' eyes slipped shut, hands resting on Remus' ankles as he drew in a deep breath. Finally, he looked up at, grey eyes imploring.

"Baby, do you know how dangerous that is?"

"It wasn't that bad". The words felt week, even to himself.

"You could have hurt yourself, love. Or what if I hadn't been here? Do you know how terrifying it would have been to come down here and find you like that?" Tears prickled at the back of Remus' eyes.

"I'm sorry." Sirius sighed, Moving up to sit between Remus' thighs, legs bent to rest on either side of him. Remus all but slumped forward into the embrace, melting into the feeling of Sirius' hands working out the knots in his curls.

"You can't do that. You can't punish yourself, and you can't beet your body into submission. Trust me, I've tried, it doesn't work." Remus sniffled, hiding in the soft skin of Sirius' neck.

"I know." Sirius' arms tightened around him.

"Let me help, ouis? If you want to run drills we'll rest and then do it together. Okay?" Remus nodded, relaxing further as Sirius pressed a kiss to his temple. "Tell me when you're ready and we'll get you something to eat and get you to bed."

"Okay, just... Give me a minute."

"We have all the time in the world, love."

[imjusthereforwolfstar]

So I attempted a thing, and I can’t believe I actually got it done in time for O’Knutzy Week.

Title: What Did You Do?

Prompt: Column B- B1 Romance Novels, B2 Vacation, B3 Surprise Visit, B4 Babbyyyyy and B5 Good Morning to Me

CW for Food, squint and you might miss it joke about weight, General Vaincre Spoilers

Big thanks to @oknutzy-week-2024 for organizing this amazing week, and always huge thanks to @lumosinlove for the characters and this world we get to play in.

Leo woke because the bed was vibrating. Confused, he cracked open one eye to see it wasn’t the bed, exactly, that was vibrating. Finn was perched on the edge of the bed, struggling to contain his excitement while Leo slept.

“Oh! Hey Sunshine! You’re awake! We have to leave in 45 minutes.”

Leo blinked rapidly. “Leave? Finn, it’s the week before training camp starts. We don't have to be anywhere until we go to the hardware store this…” he trailed off, staring at Finn and his poorly concealed grin. He narrowed his eyes. “Finn. What did you do?”

“Me? Do something?” Finn asked innocently. Then he clapped his hands once. “Now up! We’ve got a day ahead of us.”

Leo ran through his morning routine faster than usual, then found Finn in the living room. Finn was sitting on the couch, finishing up his coffee, with two small, overstuffed duffle bags on the seat next to him, and a mischievous look on his face. “Ready Butter?”

“I guess so? Finn, what’s-”

“Great!” Finn clapped his hands again and rubbed them together. He jumped up, but as he grabbed the two duffles, a smaller canvas tote next to his foot slid to the floor. “OH! I can’t believe I almost forgot!” He handed the bag to Leo. “For entertainment and nourishment during our travels.”

Leo peeked in the bag. There were four boxes of his favorite candy, two cans of favorite sweet tea (almost as good as Eloise’s) and 3 brand new romance novels. Leo's face lit up. “You got the newest ones?” Finn grinned at the excitement on Leo’s face. “Waited in line to snag them the day they came out.”

They settled into the car and Finn pulled out of the parking lot. “Finn, what’s going on?” Leo tried again, but Finn just smiled a vague smile and wagged his eyebrows.

Finn pulled onto the highway and headed south. Leo saw no use in asking again where they were going, so he contented himself with watching the city slide past the window.

They had been on the road for a while when Finn turned off the highway. He drove a few miles off the main road, through a small town, and pulled into a parking lot. “Thomas told me about this place,” he explained, “they bake everything fresh, their pastries are amazing, and they are just next door to this neat crystal shop. Oh, and the coffee shop down the street is supposed to have the best lavender lattes.”

Finn and Leo spent a pleasant hour sampling the pastries (Leo’s favorite was the lemon meringue tart, Finn enjoyed the peach turnovers, and they both agreed to bring Logan back for the salted caramel brownies) and Leo and the woman at the register chatted and swapped baking tips when they paid, while Finn petted a strangely friendly orange cat. They wandered up the street, poking in the shops (“Finn, look at these crystals! I wonder what these are for?”) before getting coffee in gorgeous handmade mugs from the shop down the road. Finn paid and he and Leo settled in the squashy chairs.

“Finn.” Leo started again. “This has been a lovely morning, but what is going on?”

Finn took a long sip of his latte. “It’s the week before training camp. You get edgy. You wander around, straighten things that are already straight and organize sock drawers that are already organized. And Lo’s gone back a week early to settle himself in before camp starts. I… I can’t keep you settled in the way he can, so I thought a short little surprise vacation might take your mind off of things before everything starts again.”

Leo blinked. Did he really do that? He thought back to last year and the feeling of unsettledness came back to him. Wandering from room to room, reworking the kitchen, picking up a book only to put it down a few minutes later because he couldn’t focus. He muttered a sheepish apology, but Finn just laughed. “Don’t apologize! It gives me an excuse to spoil you and take you on a mini trip.” Leo smiled and leaned and gave Finn a kiss. “Thank you Fish.”

Finn smiled. “Shall we, then?” Leo nodded. They got back in the car and drove for another while, until Leo started to smell sea air.

Finn pulled the car into the driveway of a gorgeous beach house. Leo got out of the car and looked up at the house. It was huge. White clapboard, black shutters with little hearts cut out of them, and a royal blue door. It sat on a bluff overlooking the ocean. He saw a small, fenced in yard in the back with a patio and fire pit. The late summer breeze ruffled his curls as he walked up to the edge of the bluff and stared out at the water. The waves were blue and sparkling and crashing up against the beach and Leo was suddenly struck at how different it was from the Bayou back home.

Home. He missed home. He missed the heat and the humidity and the smell of spices in the air when he walked up on the porch of his parents house. And he missed his parents. The start of the season always made him miss the love and support he got from Eloise and Wyatt. They had been with him though so many season starts and they knew just what Leo needed to help him get his head into the game. And although he knew they still loved him and supported him, it was somehow different hearing it through a speaker. Leo sighed, and turned back to the car to help Finn with the bags. He pulled the canvas bag from the front seat. He was looking forward to cracking open the newest novel, snuggled up with Finn in the hammock he spied in the backyard, taking turns reading chapters out loud to each other.

Leo was walking up the front steps when the front door opened, and a familiar blond head poked out. Leo’s jaw dropped and he turned to Finn with wide eyes.

“Surprise!”

“Finn. What did you do?”

“Surprise!”

The door opened the rest of the way, and Leo was enveloped in a hug he was just now realizing he needed and missed. Eloise smelled like home. Magnolia perfume and outside and fresh baked muffins. Wyatt ruffled his hair and Leo could feel the roughness of his hands, reminders of childhoods past, hours in the garage and even more hours on the ice. Leo took a deep breath and let the feeling of peace wash over him. Leo was still learning that he didn’t have to be strong for everyone, all the time. It was okay to let it go and let people take some of the weight, and right now, with his parents this close, he knew it was okay to let them carry the weight of the season for him for a little bit.

Leo took another deep breath and caught a whiff of something amazing. He pulled back from the hug. “Mama…is that your gumbo I smell?”

“Sure is, love. Been cooking since 10 am.”

Leo followed his nose straight to the spacious kitchen. Copper pots hung on the rack over the light gray island. There was a massive slate farmhouse sink in front of a window that had gorgeous views of the ocean. And there, on the stove, was a pot full of Leo’s favorite. Bowls and spoons were already next to the stove, so Leo took a big scoop of rice and an even bigger scoop of gumbo, and sat at the island savoring Eloise’s exquisite ability to balance flavors. He already could see Finn doing his best to politely eat a few spoonfuls while slowly turning as red as his hair.

Finn did indeed politely eat a few spoonfuls of gumbo before Eloise laughed and took pity on him and pulled some cold fried chicken out of the fridge.

It was a lovely afternoon. The weather was just starting to cool off, and there was a wonderful breeze in the air. They ate, and chatted about everything and nothing. Finn and Leo sat in the hammock and passed the book back and forth, laughing at the absurd parts and discussing how much better they could have written the ending. Leo and Eloise found the path down to the beach and skipped rocks in the water, while Wyatt and Finn watched late season baseball. In the early evening, Leo opened the fridge and discovered it was packed with all his favorite ingredients. He cooked up a storm, making blackened catfish sandwiches with homemade remoulade sauce and green beans, with peach cobbler for dessert. After everyone was pleasantly full, Wyatt lit a fire in the fire pit, and they sat around the crackling fire, cups of tea or warm apple cider, and discussed the Lions prospects for the season.

It was almost the perfect evening. It was late summer and the nights were just starting to cool off, but the fireflies were still winking at them from in the grass. The stars were brighter here than in Gryffindor, but still not as bright as home. The only thing missing was Logan. Logan and Eloise would be comparing notes of French Canadian vs French Creole by now, and he and Wyatt would have already made plans to work on the car the next time they visited New Orleans.

Finn’s hand caught his and squeezed, like he knew what he was thinking. Logan had texted back when they sent him pictures of the house and the ocean. He and Alex had made plans for dinner now that he was back in NYC and Leo was happy he was settling in so much better this year than last year.

Leo slept better than he had in several weeks. He woke for a few minutes when Finn slipped out of the bed for his morning run on the beach, and drifted back to sleep listening to the murmur of voices in the living room.

The smell of Wyatt’s biscuits and gravy snaked its way under the bedroom door, and lured Leo from bed. He shuffled down the stairs, and rounded the corner into the kitchen. “Well, good morning to me. Dad, they are going to have to get me a larger jersey after…” he trailed off. Sitting at the counter, tucking into a pile of fluffy biscuits and creamy gravy, was a head of chocolate curls he would have known anywhere.

“Lo?” Leo croaked. “What? Why are you here? You were in New York?”

Logan turned his head to face him. “I’m here for you. Well, you, and the promise of Eloise and Wyatt’s home cooking. But mostly you, Soleil.”

Leo rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Logan's back. He buried his face into Logan’s neck and breathed in the familiar scent of cologne and mint tea and Tiger Balm and finally felt everything fall into place.

The back door clicked open. “Babyyyyy?” Leo called out.

“Yes?” Finn came around the corner, in shorts and running shoes, headphone case in one hand and the tops of his shoulders a little pink.

“What did you do?” Leo asked for the last time, and Finn smiled his biggest Finn smile. “Surprise?”

[lying-onthe-couch]

An ode to fanfic writers.

Regulus Black has saved my life.

A character that has not more that three lines in cannon has become my saving grace. When I became completely indifferent for the outside world and couldn’t find a reason to wake up everyday he was the only reason I tried. I’m not saying it’s healthy or a healthy coping mechanisms but he was the only reason.

I thank every day to the generous fanfic writers that gave me a reason to keep living (honorary mention to MesserMoon, MsKingBean89, Solmussa, chazzledazzlethem, wrongcaitlyn, zeppazariel, lumosinlove) for giving me a reason to keep going. To force my soul to appreciate life in a way I was unable to do for myself at the moment. I wish every fanfic writer knows how much love I have for them, for the simple act act of sharing their most true self.

I try to comment in every fanfic I read full of appreciation for your work but if it was untouched, even if I haven’t have pleasure I reading your work, THAK YOU, in name of every person’s life you’ve touched.

Genuinely, I love you.

[arrowofcarnations]

Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 4: Dead End

Some Luke/Logan friendship for day four of the fest (@noots-fic-fests)! Thanks to @lumosinlove for creating these two, and special thanks to @fruitcoops for beta-reading this and being an all-around excellent friend and hype noot. <3

Title: Birds of a Feather Characters: Luke Deveaux, Logan Tremblay Rating: G

(Contains Vaincre spoilers!)

“Luke and I have been running along the river. You know, the Hudson River path? It’s been kinda warm so sometimes we lay out after. There’s a park with grass. It’s nice.” (Logan, Vaincre, May Part Two)

~

They didn’t have a set schedule or anything. It would happen like this: Luke would text him something like “Run tomorrow? Gonna be nice out,” Logan would send a thumbs-up, and they’d pick an access point along the path to meet—sometimes a familiar one, sometimes a new one way uptown or downtown so they could try out a different route. That’s how it happened in the beginning, at least. Now Logan texted first sometimes, too.

Neither of them were runners the way Finn was, both preferring to keep it down to a few easy miles at most. Sometimes they’d stop so Luke could pet a dog, or so Logan could take a picture of the view to send to his boys. It was…well, nice, like he’d told Leo. Grounding. Head-clearing. Nice, too, to hang out with Luke outside of practice, travel and team dinners.

He had other real friends in New York, of course—with Alex, Percy and Will as his teammates, it still kind of shocked Logan just how many friends he had here—but there was a level of understanding with Luke that was unique. Alex and Percy were loud, outgoing, hearts-on-their-sleeves people. Will was a thousand times more patient and level-headed than Logan could ever be. But Luke—Luke was a lot like him. A hundred silent thoughts for every one said aloud. Guarded around new people. Tough shells, Leo had said of the two of them. Logan supposed that was as good a phrase to characterize it as any. He just knew he was thankful for it.

On this particular day—the warmest they’d had since they’d started doing this together—they hooked up with the path near the George Washington Bridge and headed south, flanked by rows of still-blooming cherry trees lining the river. They’d timed it late enough in the afternoon for the crowds of cyclists, families and dog-walkers to have thinned slightly, but with enough daylight left so they could finish before dark. Streaks of orange and pink were starting to paint the sky by the time they reached Riverside Park. They found an empty spot and planted themselves there; the grass was cool on Logan’s skin as he flopped down on his back, only raising his head to take a sip of water before going boneless.

“Do you have a good route in Gryff?”

Logan’s gaze traveled from the wispy clouds overhead to Luke sitting beside him, bent over his own thigh in a stretch.

“Ouais, kind of,” he replied. He liked that Luke never used the past tense when they talked about Gryffindor, about his life there. “I usually go with Finn—he has his favorites. There’s one we do in the old part of the city that’s good. You know the Godric’s Hollow neighborhood?”

Luke nodded, switching to the other leg. “Hazard dragged us to a bakery there on some little dead-end street once.”

An ache Logan was now familiar with pinged briefly in his chest. Race you to the door. Damn, I can smell those croissants. C’mon, Lo baby, I’ll buy you something sweet. “I know the one. Pretty sure he built the route around that bakery. Even when Knutty and I sleep in, he’ll bring us back something.”

It was a relief to not have to pick and choose his words when it came to Finn and Leo. So new, and still so strange. Had there ever been a time before the last few weeks when he didn’t have to worry about implications?

Finished with his stretch, Luke sat up straight and rolled his neck and shoulders a few times before grabbing his own water bottle. “He’s a morning guy, eh?”

Logan nodded. “Annoyingly so. He needs a coffee in one hand and a book in the other just to keep him in bed past eight.”

Luke gave a hum of acknowledgement, then chugged the rest of his water. He was quiet long enough that Logan was about to ask something else, but then Luke, staring out at the water, said, “Saint’s the same way.”

It was a good thing that Logan had already noticed, that he’d already suspected as much, because it was easy to keep his expression neutral. He was surprised, though; not because Luke and Saint were a thing, but because Luke had told him about it.

“He’s a morning runner?” he asked, staying put in his casual sprawl as though no big news had just been dropped.

“No, yoga. Out on his balcony, ass crack of dawn, with this ugly tie-dye bandana on his head.”

Logan laughed, loud and bright, and it startled a little laugh out of Luke, too. “Goalies are crazy.”

Luke’s shoulders, which had been creeping up toward his ears, dropped; his whole body seemed to relax by several degrees, and he smiled. “They’re nuts.”

They both let the lull in conversation stretch for a little while after that. Luke eventually laid down under the waning sun like Logan was, both of them watching the sky as the city provided a familiar soundtrack of birds, dogs, people and distant traffic. Logan thought about how Luke helped make New York feel like a home away from home. About how nice, how necessary, it was to carve out new routines and memories in a place that was so tangled up with his memories of Finn, and how Luke seemed to know that, how he’d been helping Logan do that without ever discussing it. Though, he guessed part of it was that Luke simply wanted to hang out with him because he liked him.

Liked him and trusted him. Logan wasn’t sure how he’d earned that, but he knew he’d do his best to keep it.

And because he liked Luke, too, he had to turn his head on the grass to look at him and find out what the two of them were dealing with, even if it was awkward.

“Do the other guys know?”

Luke shook his head.

“Your families?”

Another head shake.

“Have you talked about it? You and him.”

Luke glanced away, then snapped his eyes back to Logan like he was making himself stick this out. Logan understood that more than he could put into words. “Not really. It’s—a thing, but not…no one’s said boyfriend. It’s not like Black and Lupin. Or you three.”

“D’accord.”

Luke didn’t ask him not to tell anyone. He didn’t need to.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Luke said after a moment.

Logan shrugged. “Not because—I didn’t hear anything from anyone. I think maybe I can see it because I lived it for so long.”

Luke looked like he was taking that in for a second. Logan hoped he got it right. He wasn’t Finn, who always knew just what to say to anyone, or Leo, who made people feel comfortable with the kindness that radiated from him like sunlight. But Luke nodded, tossed him a stick of gum, and started talking about their upcoming game on Tuesday, so Logan figured he hadn’t fucked it up too badly.

They talked hockey until they really started to lose the light, then made their way through the park toward the street, walking fast to keep warm as dusk ushered the spring chill back in. They lived close enough to share an uber, and Luke called one as they reached the curb.

Logan pulled out his phone as they waited; Finn had correctly guessed where he was just from a blurry picture of one of the pink-petaled trees from earlier, and Leo sent a selfie of the two of them with goofy grins from ear to ear and a love you, gonna kiss you in 2 days!!!. He forgot all about the weather, warmed from the inside out at the sight of them. He wanted that for Luke and Saint, too. He wanted it for everyone who still had to hide, who still told themselves they weren’t allowed to have it.

The car pulled up in front of them and, just before they got in, Luke put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly.

“Thanks, Tremz,” he said, tone casual but green-brown eyes sincere. “For real.”

“No worries,” Logan said, a phrase he’d picked up from Leo. “Get in, I’m fucking freezing.”

Luke shoved him, then climbed into the car. Logan followed his friend close behind.

[clickoly]

Fic-O-Ween - Day 12

Many thanks to @noots-fic-fests for the header and the fantastic fest! And to @lumosinlove for these beautiful characters 🧡

The year was 1464, in the European capital of the Renaissance, when a young artist and a man destined to Magnificence fell in love, challenging their destiny. 

Pairing: FinnLo Rating: M, but it's very lightly seasoned Watch out for the final line: this isn't quite a happily ever after (yet)

Finn had been staring at the canvas for far too long. The sun had risen high in the sky, and the bright rays streaming through the window cast the perfect shadows over his work in progress. 

Why did everything feel so blurry?

The verdigris pigment he'd mixed on his palette was too bright, the malachite wasn't enough. And the half-painted eyes of a young Dionysus were staring right back at him. 

"I know," Finn sighed. He was tapping his chin with the handle of a brush in an uneven rhythm. "I am being dramatic," he muttered to no one in particular. Alex always made fun of him for that. He looked around, still unsure of what he was searching for, what he was missing. Between empty wooden panels, endless sheets of paper and the pungent, earthy smell of tempera paints, a revelatory answer was nowhere to be found. Another exasperated breath escaped his lips, "Perhaps a hint of blue?"

"It must be some serious commission if you're talking with yourself." 

Finn jerked towards the front door. 

"Again, dare I say."

"Ah," he began, then had to stop to steady his breath. He bit back what must have been a foolishly smitten grin. "Blame my Muse," Finn opted for a mocking smile instead, as playful as the voice that had just enlightened his soul. "Gone so long, I'm afraid I have lost my touch," he gestured to the unfinished portrait. "And perhaps some sense." 

The nest of Logan's curls shook in a scolding nod. Slowly, savoring each step, he closed the too vast, one month-long distance between them, holding out a hand as his eyes darted across the painting. "Dionysus, I see.”

Finn let go of his instruments and reached out, catching Logan's hand a little shakily. God, had he missed him.

"Isn't he fascinating?" he said, turning to admire the interplay of colors as well. "The most delicate balance between hedonism and chaos, abundance and intoxication." 

"Wine and sex," Logan paraphrased. He made Finn laugh—real and spontaneous as only he could. "Sounds fun."

"Uninhibited and wild. Sounds familiar," Finn teased, leaning down to kiss the back of Logan's hand, whose warmth enveloped him. 

"He looks familiar," Logan countered, closely focused on the details of Finn's artwork. Dark hair, curling beneath a crown of verdant grapevines. Full, red lips drawn into a delicate smile, the arch of a perfectly shaped bow. A muscular, artfully proportioned body, the immortal and timeless beauty that belonged only to gods. Finn hadn't exactly tried to be subtle about it. 

"It's missing something unique, though," he whispered as he turned to cup Logan's jaw between his chalk-stained hands. He brushed gentle thumbs along the sharp contours of his cheeks, already lost in the brilliance of the rarest gems he'd ever laid eyes on. "Oh, never mind." 

The most perfect shade of green.

"Found it," he breathed out against Logan's lips and brought their mouths together in a tender kiss. "Hi, angel. You came back to me." 

Logan's smile blinded him—the slightest hint of bashfulness just there, the soft blush on his olive skin, never fading away, even after such a long time. "Always," Logan mumbled into another kiss, pulling Finn close as if to never let go. "And I brought a surprise." 

"For me?"  

Logan hummed softly and let Finn brush their noses together with feathery strokes. "But you have to follow me first." 

"Where?" Finn prompted, leaning back enough to twirl a finger in the perfect lock of hair that fell over Logan's forehead. He couldn't help it—the wave of anticipation hit him hard, burning wildly in his chest. He would have followed Logan to the edge of the world, through hell and heaven, to faraway lands unknown to mankind. 

And judging by the look of devotion that spread across his face, Logan was well aware of that. It didn't stop him from playing the little banter that was theirs to live in—a breath of fresh air, a safe place to revel. He pinched Finn's waist, amusement now filling his crooked smile. "I'm not telling you." 

And then Finn had to worry, just a little. Because Logan had probably been traveling for days and he looked exhausted and in desperate need for sleep. He wanted to hold him in his arms, to erase the tired furrow from his brows and let him glow in his celestial beauty. 

"Are you sure?" he leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Don't you need some rest?" 

Logan just grabbed the collar of Finn's shirt and captured his lips in a fierce, biting kiss. "The only thing I need right now is you."

The ride into the countryside had felt timeless—up to the browned hill that rose just outside the ancient city walls. Though it must have been a brief journey. Side by side, riding their horses along golden paths, restless hands finding each other again and again in swift touches, brushing against the crisp air. 

The vibrant greens and browns of endless vineyards and terraces of majestic olive trees set the perfect backdrop for Logan's strong features against the afternoon light. Behind them, the outlines of a fading Florence, whose monumental beauty was inescapable, perfectly framed Logan's tales of his latest trip to France, spilling forth like leaves caught in the gentle winds of autumn.    

Oh, the sea. You would have loved Marseilles. I must take you there, my love. 

Yes, French wine is good, but it would taste better on your lips. 

Mais oui. I will teach you all the new words I have learned. 

I missed you too. 

I don't want to leave you for so long ever again. 

Sometimes it was days, more often weeks, of duties to fulfill somewhere too far away. Leaders to befriend, alliances to forge. The fourth and youngest child of the Tremblay family, the leading voice of the Republic, had to learn the ropes of the family business alongside his older sisters. A kind soul in thick armor, Logan was a powerful, beloved statesman to the people of Florence, a Cupid's favorite to the greedy eyes of wealthy and charming suitors all over Europe. And a devoted, passionate lover to Finn O'Hara.

Logan had more than once called them a life worth cherishing. But was the undying love of a young artist enough for such a privilege? 

At a loss for real answers, Finn knew only one truth. Then, in the midst of pristine, whistling nature, they fell in love for the umpteenth time. There, in a boundless corner of a rusty heaven, Finn allowed himself to be just a man, drowning in the glorious lust of two bounding souls.

~

A small palmate leaf, dried-out of its bright colors, fell silently on Logan's sleepy head, nestling in his messy curls. It broke the peace of his even breathing when Finn's graceful fingers reached out to brush it away, and down Logan's face in feathery patterns where it wasn't pressed against his bare chest. 

At the first hint of movement, Finn turned his head to press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cold nose. 

"Did I fall asleep?" Logan murmured hoarsely. Slowly, groggily, he stirred against Finn's body and squeezed his arm tighter around him. 

"Last I checked, those pretty eyes of yours were very much closed."  

A grunt of disagreement rumbled against Finn's skin, "No—it's your fault. It's so warm in here."

And it was. A cocoon of blankets and intertwined bodies beneath a clear sky and a fresh breeze. 

"Can we stay?" 

"As long as you wish," Finn promised. 

"What about you?"

Finn rolled slightly onto his side and rubbed a hand up and down Logan's back under the thick wool. "What about me?" 

Logan squinted one eye open, "I can hear you thinking out loud." 

"Sketching," Finn corrected. "I got my Muse back, after all." 

Logan tentatively smothered his ticklish smile down Finn's pale neck. When he finally pulled back and blinked his dream-laden eyes open, it was to reach sneakily behind their heads and grab Finn's notebook from his satchel. "Show me," he settled back into Finn's waiting arms. "I want to see everything I've missed."

Curled up in his touch, Logan flipped through pages of black carbon sketches and rivers of disorganized notes while Finn told him stories about those faces, landscapes, anonymous bodies whose proportions he had been meticulously studying and trying to replicate for months. 

As expected, Logan lingered over the outlines of a portrait, the first messy, smudged draft of one of his latest commissions. "Is that Adonis?" He asked, somehow in awe. 

Finn stifled his laughter with a loud kiss on Logan's burning cheek. "That's what I thought when I first saw him. But this man? Oh, he was even better. Imagine..." he said dreamily, tracing a light finger along the darkest lines of his drawing. "A tall, young, cherubic angel with deep, cerulean eyes walking into my studio..." 

Finn felt Logan press closer to him. "Who is he?"

"His name is Leonardo. He came all the way from Venice to Florence in search of a manuscript," Finn said wonderingly. "Actually, he was on his way to the Apostolic Library. He's a philologist, and he's working on translating fragments of a Greek poetess whose work is quite unknown. He left for Rome a few days ago." 

"Hm," Logan grumbled. "And what could he possibly be doing in your studio?" 

An amused smile played on Finn's lips. "He asked if I could draw him and paid me to pose for a portrait. He wanted a small memento of his time in Florence and said my art sounded like the notes of a lyric poem." 

Another wave of delight washed over Finn as Logan lifted himself up on one forearm and pinned him to the ground with a piercing look. "It does," he whispered softly, leaning in to brush their mouths together. "And so do you." 

Glittering sparks simmered inside Finn, and Logan's kisses burned like oil on a living flame, explosive, so consuming that he felt he had no air left to breathe when Logan suddenly pulled away. "Wait here," he said faintly, leaving Finn shivering at the loss of contact. 

Logan slipped out of the intricate tangle of sheets they had bundled themselves in and stood up—a perfectly sculpted marble statue, glowing in the golden light the sun was casting all over the hard planes and hills of his body. He walked barefoot to the horses, peacefully resting in the shade of a tree. He carefully took something from his saddlebag, and ran with three long strides back to Finn, where they sat together with their legs crossed.

Finn draped a blanket over their shoulders and wrapped them in a gentle embrace. "You're going to catch a cold," he scolded, just as he noticed the small velvet pouch in Logan's hands. "What is it?" 

Logan simply looked at him for a few moments, motionless, a whole world flashing behind his glazed eyes. "Did I ever tell you how much I love this time of year?" 

"I think the first time you did, we were thirteen," Finn laughed, but let his eyes wander around, imagining what Logan might actually feel in front of such a special blend of colors. He wanted the same emotions to strike him as much. "But you never told me why." 

Logan smiled, a tender, shy curl of his full lips. "It feels like home," he said, drawing a long breath as he lovingly caressed Finn's face, "where there's warmth to look at...to look for when it's cold outside. This," he nodded to a pile of reddish leaves under an almost bare beech, "feels like nature showing us the beauty of hope when everything is falling down. And you," Logan whispered, wide eyes locked with Finn's, struck by golden strings. "It always feels like there are pieces of you everywhere." 

Finn found himself with only a thin thread of voice, trembling. "Logan." 

"Here," Logan handed him the pouch. It was dark green, the fabric smooth, and it felt almost empty to the touch, were it not for a small, round object at the bottom. Finn deftly untied its strings when Logan added, "This is your surprise." 

"Another one? Is it better than this?" He looked around at the private, dreamlike spot Logan had found for the two of them. "Are you trying to spoil—oh." 

On Finn's palm landed a perfectly polished band of gold. Set in the metal, brighter than a starry night, were three dazzling, fiery rubies. 

Logan took the ring between his fingers and Finn's hand in his own, all the while Finn couldn't form a coherent thought that wasn't What did I do to deserve you?

"I asked the jeweler of the King of France himself. I wanted something special made just for you, and this saintly man—Pascal, he said was his name. He listened to me," Logan gave a soft laugh, "rambling on about the love of my life for longer than any good man should endure. And he made this," he stroked the gold band. "For my Rouge." 

"For your..."

Logan ran his fingers through Finn's hair, "My Red. Pascal taught it to me." 

Finn squeezed Logan's hand tighter. If he opened his mouth, he was going to cry. 

The love of my life. 

"Finn," Logan's voice was breaking into tears as well, but his eyes made no move to look away. "You have been by my side since I have memories. I can't foresee the future... I don't know what my fate will be. But I do know that I want you to be a part of it." 

A tear fell heavily down Finn's cheek. It made everything feel real—too real to be just a dream.

"One day," Logan wiped away that love-filled tear. "One day, I promise," he kissed the ring and slowly slid it onto his pale, freckled finger. "I promise, I will marry you." 

Oh, so this is what it feels like to be immortal. Elation, a slight tremor, the promise of eternal bliss.

"Close your eyes," Finn managed with a faint scrape of his voice. He couldn't help the soft laugh that burst out right after, tearful yet wholehearted. 

Logan held him close, looking as confused as intrigued by his reaction. "What are you..."

"Close your eyes," he urged again. He pulled back enough to find his satchel with a shaking hand and dug into the small pocket where he had hidden it. The pendant was a bit coarse, but the silver reflected the warm tones of the sunset almost perfectly. Finn slid the black leather cord over Logan's head, and the small fleur-de-lis bounced lightly on his chest. Logan caught it between his fingers almost instantly.

"Finn..."

"It's nothing like this," he kissed his ring where Logan had placed it, "but I shaped it myself," he said proudly. "Well... to be completely honest, the blacksmith helped me a little. But mostly he made sure I didn't get fatally hurt." 

Logan's disbelieving laughter warmed Finn all over. In his ears, it carried echoes of indelible memories—long walks between fields of white lilies and stolen, timid first kisses.

"But he also said you are very lucky to have me, so... I'll be there," Finn said solemnly. "With or without me, you're destined for the greatest achievement a man could inspire. And I will be here," he pressed his palm over the pendant on Logan's chest, "whatever awaits us out there."

"And when I have you, and you have me..." Logan's voice quivered with a choked breath. 

"What's the worst that could happen?" 

A whisper, Logan's tender lips on Finn's temple, calling forever and sealing a fate.

One they couldn't know wasn't meant to be theirs. 

[lumosinlove]

Pinterest refreshed so I lost the pin but it was “so how did you two meet?” And “funny story actually, we’ve met in every lifetime” and it feels very Finn Logan Leo

[iluvchick3nz]

Oo so active I love!! Can you do a Finnlo fight with old scars/trauma resurfacing? And Leo heals all, I love when he gets one on one with each and helps them understand each other better.

Oof, I do love a good FinnLo working through trauma sort of situation, it has to be said. And Leo hates seeing them hurt, poor sunshine baby. :(

HOWEVER, I do think it's kind of beautiful that, no matter how long you know someone, there is always more to learn about each other, something that I see FinnLo kind of struggling to recognize sometimes. So, have some (yikes) FinnLo ANGST with a perceptive and intelligent sunshine coming to help ease the pain.

Character credits to @lumosinlove !!

“Salut, maman.”

“How are you, sweetheart?” his mother asked in French.

“Bien.” Logan switched the phone to his other hand as he put the dried utensils away. “Le just made a nice dinner. Are you on your way to the airport?”

On the other side of the line, Iva let out a sigh. “Actually, Lobear, I have some bad news. Your father got caught up in a work thing- one of the administrators in the hospital committed fraud and now he’s having to deal with the fallout. It’s a mess, sweetheart, we’re not going to make it.”

“Quoi?” Logan sat down heavily at one of the counter stools. “What do you mean? Maman, can’t you come?”

“Logan, I can’t just leave your father and go to France right now. He’s stressed out and working long hours, and-”

“But I-” Logan took a breath and rested his forehead in his hand. “Sorry, I was just excited for a family vacation. The girls are all coming next week.”

“Logan.” His mother’s voice was stern, but still sad. “I know, sweetheart, I know. I’m so sorry. The girls are upset as well.” She let out a sigh. “We’ll try and visit you and the boys at some point this summer before you have to go back to New York, but it’s looking really bad. There’s a lot of frustrated doctors and patients.”

Logan nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “Ouais. Ouais, I understand.” He hung his head back and tried to fight against the tears forming in his eyes. “I love you. Tell dad I say hi.”

“I love you, too, Logan. Sleep tight, my love.”

The line went dead, and Logan slouched forward to rest his head in his hands. He took a shaky breath and let out a soft sound. Time with his boys in Nice was invaluable, but it had been ages since the Tremblay family had been all together and not surrounded by hockey, just each other. And Leo and Finn had been so excited to come on a family vacation. Logan felt his chest ache for them.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Leo came through the doorway. “Finn’s making a fire out on the- whoa.” He stopped abruptly and came up to rest a hand on Logan’s back. “Lo, what’s wrong?”

Logan quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen on his cheeks. “Everything’s fine, soleil,” he whispered in French. He was too tired for English.

“No, it’s not.” Leo guided Logan into his chest and they wrapped their arms around each other. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“There’s an emergency at my dad’s work- one of the administrators committed fraud, and he’s having to deal with the legal stuff. It’s a complete mess. Maman just called to say they can’t make it.”

“Oh, mon coeur.” Leo squeezed him tightly. “Oh, Logan, I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” Logan felt his voice shaking. “It’s just, I was so excited to finally have a family-”

“Lovers, I’ve got the fire started!” Finn’s voice came from down the hallway. “What do you want to drink, we’ve got-” He stopped in the doorway. “What’s going on, what’s happening?” When Logan groaned and more tears slipped out, Finn’s face dropped and he rushed over. “Hey, baby, what-?”

“I just wanted them to be here with you-”

“Sh, I know, honey, it’s alright.”

“Non, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just miss my parents, and-”

“Lo, English, I can’t understand.”

Logan looked up at him from his place in Leo’s chest. “I was.”

Finn shook his head, eyes pained. “No, Lo, you weren’t. I don’t like this, you need to tell me.” 

Logan bit his lip and tilted his head back, slightly frustrated. It hurt, sometimes, having to translate the things he was feeling into words that Finn could understand. And Logan was tired, so tired, because they had gotten up early, and had gone for a long run, and then spent the whole day wandering around, and his head hurt. It hurt so badly, trying to switch between languages, and translating, and communicating. He let out a sigh that must have come across harsh, because Finn took a step back, cheeks red. “Hey, whoa. Lo, what the hell?”

Leo looked frantically between them. “Finn.”

“No, I don’t like not knowing what he’s saying! Logan, c’mon-”

“Finn, I don’t think you should push-”

“Allez,” Logan said softly, breathing in and out through his mouth, which just seemed to make Finn panic more. He rubbed his hands over his face and stood, heading towards the patio door. “Allez, I need some space.”

“Logan. English, please, I need to understand, I can’t understand you.” 

“Finn.” Leo’s voice was soft. “Finn, he just needs a minute. Just give him a minute.”

The last thing Logan heard was Finn’s frustrated huff, and then he closed the patio door behind him.

***

French was tricky for Finn, Leo had figured out. He tried his best, spending time watching movies and TV shows with French audio and English captions, and did some grammar exercises when he could, but his lack of progress and fluency was clearly frustrating him. Most of the time, unless the two of them were alone just together, Leo and Logan spoke English in Finn’s presence. It didn’t really bother Leo much, to switch between the two languages, but it clearly sometimes bothered Logan- when he was overstimulated, when he was tired, when he was feeling things he needed to just let out, and he couldn’t do that as automatically in English. He’d gotten better, but there were times when Leo could physically see him flinching and wincing, the act of translating taking a toll on his body and mind. And Finn, Leo had come to realize, didn’t quite understand how difficult it was.

They watched Logan’s back disappear through the patio door and into the dying French sunlight, Leo still gripping Finn’s hand gently from when he’d stopped him from following Logan outside. Finn was breathing heavily, face and neck red from frustration and worry- and maybe a little anger, Leo thought. He drew those freckled fingers to his lips and kissed them gently. He gave Finn a tug. “C’mere, sweetheart. Let’s go for a walk.”

But Finn was still staring out the door. “No, Le, he’s just sitting out there, and I don’t understand-”

“Finn.” Leo tugged harder, forcing Finn to look at him. “I know you’re upset, but you need to let him be, okay? His dad had a legal emergency at work, so his parents can't come, and he's exhausted. Let’s go for a walk and talk.”

Finn looked a little taken aback at Leo’s firm tone of voice, but nodded. The fight had just evaporated from his body. “Okay. I’m sorry, Le, okay.”

“Hey.” Leo kissed him softly, then kissed the purple underneath his strained brown eyes. “I love you. And Logan does, too.” He laced their fingers together and squeezed. “Let’s go, I know just the place.”

They didn’t go far, just to the beach near Logan’s house, but it was far enough where they could both get some air. Leo pulled Finn back against his chest and laced their hands across Finn’s stomach. The sunset was just turning orange, casting a glow over the world and the water. Leo kissed the back of Finn’s head. “You look beautiful in the sunset.”

There was a hitching breath, a soft whimper, and then Finn started to cry, silent, shaking sobs wracking through his body. Leo leaned around and kissed each tear, waiting.

Finn pressed into his touch. “He just- in college he would just walk away from me. I would try to talk to him about- about us, and he would use French to- to get out of talking, and I can’t do it anymore, Le, I just can’t.”

“Sh, I know. I know, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” Leo felt like his heart was breaking. “I’m so sorry, let it out, baby.”

“Leo, I don’t know what I did wrong.”

That made Leo suck in a breath. “Nothing. Finn, you did nothing wrong. You’re just- you’re having trouble communicating.”

Finn let out a sad sound and shook his head. His eyes were squeezed shut tightly, as if he was in pain. “No.”

“Oh, honey.” Leo wrapped him up tightly. “Honey, you are. It happens, even for you two.” He licked his lips nervously. “Can I- can I say something?” 

“Yeah.”

“And when I say this, I need you to know that this is not to hurt you, and that I love you so much, okay?”

A brief pause. “Okay.”

Leo took a preparatory breath. “I think- I think you need to let Logan speak in French. Sometimes.” Finn flinched, but let Leo continue. “When he gets emotional, or frustrated, it’s sometimes hard for him to translate. And I know it doesn’t seem fair, but you need to let him feel for a minute for himself, then let him explain it to you.”

“Yeah.” Finn rested his head back against Leo’s shoulder. “But he can’t- he can’t use it as an excuse not to talk to me. I need him to, like, say he needs space, I can’t-” His breath hitched again. “I just feel so lost, and I hate not being able to help him.”

“Sh, sh, honey, I know.” Leo kissed where his hair fanned out over his ears. “But sometimes you don’t need to help him, at least not right away. Sometimes you need to just listen, and let him come to you when he’s ready.” He brushed Finn’s hair back from his face. His eyes were still closed, but not as tightly anymore. “And he will. You know he will. He’ll always talk to you, he’ll always tell you how he feels. And I know it’s unfair that I can understand him first, I know, baby, and I know it makes you feel frustrated. But he loves you so much, Finn. And he’ll talk to you once he can express how he feels in a way you can understand.”

Finn was silent for a long time. After a few minutes of gazing at the sunset, he tilted his head and pressed a kiss to Leo’s jaw. “In college, when Logan brought me here, we swam one night right out there.” He pointed to a spot in the distance, and Leo braced for the story he knew so well. “And I told him I wanted him. And he just- he spoke French at me and…” A new wave of tears fell from his eyes and his voice broke. His heart was fast under Leo’s palm, breathing quick and uneven. “God, that hurt so badly. That hurt more than anything else I’ve ever felt in my life.”

“Finn.” Leo felt himself start to tear up, too, and pressed his nose into Finn’s cheek. It wasn’t like Finn to panic so harshly. “Finn, baby, breathe. I need you to breathe with me, baby, you’re scaring me.”

“Sorry,” Finn gasped. “Sorry, sorry, Leo-”

“I’ve got you,” Leo whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “I’ve always got you.” 

They breathed together for a few minutes. Finn’s body was hot against Leo’s own, as if he was feverish, and Leo had half a mind to take him into that ocean and wash away the memories. Instead, when Finn’s pulse slowed, he pressed a soft kiss to his lips and pulled back to look at him. “Feel better?” At Finn’s nod, Leo kissed him again. “Good. Let’s go back to the house, sweetheart. I’ll talk to Lo.”

Finn’s eyes turned anxious. “Do you think he’s mad at me?”

“No.” Leo shook his head. “No, I think… I think he loves you more than he can say, and he doesn’t want to hurt you.” 

Finn deflated. “I know. I know, I’m sorry.” He looked up at Leo through his lashes. “I love you. I love you both so much. I’m just- I don’t know why I get frustrated.”

Leo bit his lip. “Maybe it’s just one of those things you don’t quite understand about each other yet. That you’re still learning.” He brushed their noses together. “I think that’s kind of beautiful, that you’re still learning each other.”

Finn smiled slightly. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, it is.” He kissed Leo’s cheek. “Thank you, peanut.”

“Always, sweetheart.” Leo patted his hip. “C’mon, up you get. Go take a shower, and I’ll go talk to Lo.”

They both felt lighter, clearly, as they stood, but Leo didn’t miss the way Finn looked longingly at the water once more. 

***

Fifteen minutes later, Leo let his head thump lightly against the wall beside the bathroom door. He could hear the shower running and Finn talking to himself, which was a good sign, but his heart was still pounding in his chest. They hadn’t seen Logan when they walked through the house- Leo assumed he was still on the patio. He pressed a hand over his chest, took a deep breath, and walked through the living room to the back door. 

Through the glass, he could see Logan hunched over, adding another log to the dying fire. He looked serious, muscles tense, and when he heard Leo slide the door open he jerked a bit. His eyes were red when they met Leo’s. “Salut.”

“Salut.” Leo closed the door softly behind him and went to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the fire pit. “Ça va?” When Logan just shook his head, Leo let out a sigh. “I just took Finn to the beach,” he whispered in French. “We talked for a while, he’s in the shower now.”

Logan looked up at him. “D’accord, is he-” He stopped, squinting at Leo briefly across the flames, before he sucked in a breath. “Were you crying?”

Leo felt a nervous feeling work its way up his throat. “Ouais.”

Logan’s face looked like heartbreak. “And Finn, was he-?”

“Ouais.”

Logan groaned, falling forward to rest his face in his hands with a shaky breath. “I don’t want to make him cry. Oh God, I made him cry-”

“Sweetheart, look at me.” Leo stood and went to kneel between Logan’s legs, the warm fire at his back, and cupped his face in his hands. “Look at me, Lo.” When Logan did, Leo wiped away the wetness on his cheeks. “Finn was just scared, and frustrated. He doesn’t like not being able to understand you.”

“Je sais.” Logan’s voice was broken and sad. “Je sais, Leo, I’m so sorry-”

“Sh, sh, I’ve got you.” Leo pressed a firm kiss to his forehead, then rested their temples together. “I know you’re trying, I know it, Lo, but he sometimes doesn’t. He just wants to fix anything that’s hurting you right away. But he also has to let you feel, and I told him that. And once you figure it out, then you can translate and tell him, but he needs to let you do it yourself.” Leo pulled back to look him in the eye. “But you can’t just walk away, Lo. You have to tell him, in English, that you need a minute, and then take it.”

Logan closed his eyes like the words hurt him. “It- it’s a bad habit. With him.”

“He told me.” Leo thought for a moment, then lowered his voice. “He told me about the sea again. The story about you two in the water at night, while we were at the beach.”

“Merde.” Logan let out a pained sound. “Mon rouge…” He sniffed and held Leo’s wrists. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you always have to deal with- with us, us not communicating.”

“Non,” Leo whispered firmly, thumbs rubbing Logan’s jaw. “Hey, no, don’t say that. I want to help you, Lo, because I love you, not because I feel like I have to.” He sighed. “But you have to talk to him about it, okay? He doesn’t want to hurt you, and you don’t want to hurt him. And you don’t hurt each other, really, you just- you need to take a pause for a moment, that’s all.”

But Logan’s expression was disbelieving. “I made him cry. I made you cry.”

“Non, Logan.” Leo pressed their bodies together harder. “You didn’t, your actions did. The situation did. How much we love you made us cry, but never you, sweetheart. You’re all we could ever want.”

“I love you,” Logan said softly, kissing Leo so gently it felt like bathing in sunlight. “I love you so much.”

“I love you.” Leo stood, holding out his hands to pull Logan into standing up. “D’accord, Finn’s probably out of the shower now. Let’s go see him.”

Leo could tell Logan was nervous by the way he gripped his hand tightly as they made their way through the house. It was getting dark now, their bodies casting long shadows on the walls. There wasn’t a sound of water running through the pipes, so Leo figured Finn was in their bedroom. He tugged Logan along slowly and stopped in front of the door, turning to face him and kiss him briefly. “Good?”

“Ouais.” Logan pressed his forehead into Leo’s chest, hugging him, before cautiously turning the knob.

The room was bathed in just the warm light of a lamp. The window was open, letting in a cool breeze coming off the ocean, ruffling the white curtains. Finn was sitting up against the pillows on the bed, now in boxers and a sweatshirt, glasses perched on his nose as he read from a paperback. He looked up as Logan entered, Leo standing in the doorway. His eyes, though warm, were red-rimmed, and his cheeks were flushed. “Hi,” he whispered, voice cracking through what sounded to Leo like tears.

Logan let out a soft sound. “Mon rouge.”

Then he was crossing the room in two strides to straddle Finn’s hips on the mattress, wrapping his strong arms tightly around Finn’s shoulders. A soft sob escaped Finn’s body as he held Logan just as tightly, fingers gripping the muscles of Logan’s back. “Lo, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Non, non, Finn.” Logan pulled back to cup Finn’s face and kiss the skin, catching the falling tears with his lips. “Non, mon rouge, désolé. Mon amour, ma vie, mon tout, je suis tellement désolé. Don’t cry, I don’t want you to cry.” He kissed Finn on the mouth and then looked him in the eye. “I should not have walked away.”

“I should have let you have space, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby, about your family, I-” Finn cut himself off, kissing Logan hard once more. “I love you.”

“Ouais.” Logan began kissing his cheeks again, then moved down to his neck. “Ouais, je t’aime, ma vie, mon cœur, ma lumière, je t’aime.”

Finn let his head fall back with a soft smile. “Now this French I find sexy.”

“Finn.” Logan lifted his face from Finn’s neck and ran his hands through Finn’s hair. His eyes were serious and yearning, but he was so gentle it made Leo’s heart ache. “I’m being serious, I don’t want you to feel like that. I’m so sorry I keep making you feel like that, I’m going to try. I’m going to communicate better, I’m going to try.” 

“Then I’ll try, too.” Finn rested their foreheads together. “I don’t like not being able to fix things. But you need time, sometimes, and I know I won’t always understand right away.”

“But I’ll tell you.”

Finn smiled and kissed Logan’s cheek. “But you’ll tell me.” He sat up straighter, then looked to where Leo was standing. He smiled and held out an arm. “Now, where’s our sunshine?”

Leo tilted his head to rest against the doorframe and gazed at them softly. “Hi.”

“C’mere, baby, c’mere.” He pulled Leo against him when he walked over to the bed, scooching a bit so he didn’t fall off. Finn pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you, baby. It’s not your job, and it’s not why we love you, but thank you for catching us.”

“Ouais.” Logan moved off of Finn’s lap to sit in Leo’s and draped his arms around his shoulders. His green eyes were wet, but Leo saw his smile right up until he closed his eyes and kissed him. “Merci, mon coeur.”

Leo nudged their noses together. “I told you. I do it because I love you, not because I have to.” He looked at Finn. “And you catch me, too. You caught me right in your arms when we met, even if you didn’t know it, and you’ve caught me every time I’ve fallen since.” 

Finn’s smile widened. “I like catching you, baby. You look so pretty in my arms.” He kissed Leo’s blushing cheek. “Je t’aime, peanut.”

Leo laughed. “I love you.” He turned to Logan, who was watching them both with soft eyes. “Je t’aime aussi.”

“Oui. Toujours, mes amours.” He settled his hips further into Leo’s and nicked Finn’s cheek with his thumb. “That wasn’t that bad, Harz.”

Finn waggled his eyebrows. “Been learning. Though, I gotta say, most of my French is not very appropriate, so I will need some help with that.”

Logan laughed. “Ouais, we can help you.” He tilted forward and rested his cheek right where Leo and Finn’s shoulders were touching, his eyes turned to look at Leo. “I’m sleepy.”

“Mm.” Leo tilted his head to rest on top of Logan’s. “Shower? Then we can go to bed.”

“Can I be in the middle?”

Leo and Logan both straightened to look at Finn, who was biting his nail with slightly nervous brown eyes. Logan smiled widely. He took Finn’s hand and kissed it. “Ouais, mon amour.”

“Kay.” He ran a hand through Logan’s hair. “Can we snug?”

Leo scoffed. “Like that’s even a question.” He kissed Finn’s neck then took Logan by the hips to lift him off the bed to stand. “We’ll be ten minutes, honey, promise.”

“Hurry back.”

They left Finn to his book and went to the bathroom. Leo was grabbing some towels from the closet while Logan let the water heat up when a thought made him laugh. “You know,” he said. “I think it really would be funny to teach Finn French.”

“Huh?” Logan asked, stripping his clothes. “Quoi?”

Leo shrugged, hanging up the towels and reaching behind himself to pull his T-shirt off. “I’m just saying, his accent would be horrible.” He wrapped his hands around Logan’s waist as they stepped into the shower, guiding him beneath the hot spray. “And he would probably only use it to say dirty things to us, anyways, even if he knew more.”

Logan tilted his head back to face the water and laughed. “Ouais, he would.” He looked back at Leo over his shoulder. “But I wouldn’t complain.”

Leo smiled. “No. Neither would I.”

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened. Leo wiped his hand on the shower glass to clear it, then grinned even wider when he saw Finn staring at them, hips resting against the sink. “Sweetheart?”

Finn played with his own fingers. “Didn’t want to be far from you. Can I stay?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Cool.” Finn boosted himself up to sit on the side of the sink, letting his legs swing. “You know, I like this show. Might have to shower stalk you more often.” 

Logan blew him a kiss. “Whatever you want, mon coeur.”

Finn nodded. He whistled lowly when Leo and Logan both turned away from him to grab their exfoliator and soap. “Damn, this is a nice show. And it’s free, even better.”

Leo rolled his eyes fondly and shared a look with Logan. “He’s back.”

Logan bit his lip. “Ouais. He’s back.”

“Can you, like, make out or something, please? As an experiment.”

Leo furrowed his eyebrows. “An experiment for what?”

“To see how long I can sit still here for.”

Leo and Logan shook their heads, but leaned in for a kiss that started out brief, but Logan’s tongue ran over Leo’s lips and then Leo was melting underneath the warm water.

“Yup, that’s what I’m talking about.” They looked over to see him resting back against his hands, a delighted smile on his face. He waved his fingers. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Leo just winked at him and drew Logan’s body closer again. “I guess we gotta give it to him.”

“Ouais,” Logan said, looking up through his dark eyelashes. “Whatever he wants. Forever.”

Leo nodded. “Forever. Now, c’mere, Tremblay, and give me a kiss.”

And with Logan’s smile against his own and Finn’s happy noises, Leo felt himself soften… or maybe it just felt like the beginning of sinking into forever.

[oneluckygoose]

FinnLo Math

Hi, welcome to Lucky's hyper fixation at the current moment

For the past two weeks I have binge read Sweater Weather, Vaincre, and Coast to Coast by the lovely @lumosinlove and just want to say, Jesus Christ. I have actually fallen in love with O'Nutzy SO HARD and they are amazing and I'm absolutely a slave to Harvard Era FinLo. To @lumosinlove, this is a masterpiece and now I want to watch hockey, you've infected me.

Anyway, with credits out of the way, I did some math, (get ready for Harvard era FinLo math under cut)

*Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine and I did not create this story, so everything I say may be completely incorrect. Any of this may be disproven in Breakaway, which I don't/won't have the ability to read. Most of this is based off cannon times and events within the Sweater Weather universe, but I have made clear where cannon ends and my assumptions begin. Again, these are not my characters and all credit goes to @lumosinlove, This is not making fun of, patronizing, or degrading the all around fantastic story they have created, and is simply pointing out things I have noticed.*

Now in Coast to Coast, I noticed some strange things that Finn says. He tells Logan he's been in love with him for eight years, right? And over the course of the story Logan mentions he's loved Finn for 7 at some point (that may actually be in Vaincre, if it is the math lines up so that's a testy point). And when they kissed in part V of Coast to Coast it said it had been four years since they last kissed. This threw me off, because I knew this was, what, early January of 2020 in universe.

So I did some digging. Finn is a year older than Logan, meaning when Logan came to Harvard in 2014 (codified in Coast to Coast part VII, the very start, includes sexy Batman during Logan's first Halloween party at Harvard), he would have been a Freshman while Finn was a Sophomore.

Now it isn't clear whether their first kiss in 2015 was when at the end of the 2014-2015 school year or the start of the 2015-2016 school year (though Logan doesn't have a car, so that lends a little more credibility to Logan still being a Freshman, but it kinda seems like Logan never has a car in general, even in Sweater Weather and Vaincre). I tend to think it's the start of the 2015-16 school year because that's when Finn met Hanna, and those sorts of things don't really carry over after being apart for the summer. Anyway, this means it would be Finn's Junior year.

Now their last kiss before Finn leaves is supposedly in May of 2016, which was part II in Coast to Coast, but that doesn't make sense because it is stated that they are only one year apart,

[I'm pretty sure at least. Later in Coast to Coast it mentions Finn's rookie year and it's said that it was only one (1) really bad year without Logan (same goes for Logan as a senior) before Logan is drafted to the Lions after he graduates. This means they're only one year apart, so the 2016 thing I believe to be wrong]

and if you do the math with Logan being a Freshman in the 2014-2015 school year, he would be a Junior when Finn is a Senior in the 2016-2017 school year (I have a whole timeline trust me on this, it'll be at the bottom). So theoretically their last kiss would have been in May of 2017.

Now their next kiss in in January of 2020. Based off of the very beginning of Sweater Weather, the time period of the fic is the 2019 NHL season, so starting in September, it would be January of 2020 when Remus and Sirius' photos got leaked, right before All-stars, which Logan was going on. The same day the photos are leaked, Finn and Logan kiss for the first time since May of 2017.

If you tally it up, it would be 2 years and 7 months since they had last kissed: Seven months left in 2017, plus all of 2018 and 2019 {Essentially (7+12+12)/12}. Notably, not four years.

[If we are going on the timeline where the last kiss is in 2016, it would be 3 years and 7 months, which would be much more reasonable to say four years; however, that timeline is a little jacked so.]

The other thing that threw me off is Finn saying he'd been in love with Logan for eight years, which I also believe to be wrong.

Finn says to Logan when they are officially getting together in part V of Coast to Coast that he'd loved Logan for eight years, which doesn't make sense if they only just met in August of 2014.

To put it simply, they wouldn't have known each other for eight years. Again, if you tally it up, that's five months in 2014, five years, and then about half a month in 2020. {Essentially (5 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 1/2) / 12}. Let's just say they've known each other for 5 years and 6 months. Again, not eight years.

There is the concern of not loving each other when they first met, but Finn does say that he had loved Logan since the moment he saw him at the training camps in 2014, which would have been when they first met, so we can disregard any buffer time.

[And I am about 90% sure that August of 2014 was when they first met because during the Halloween party scene in part VII of Coast to Coast Logan talks about how Finn is his "new roommate" and they'd only just met. I could be wrong.]

And about Logan saying he'd loved Finn for seven years, I don't remember if it is in Coast to Coast which ends in 2020 or in Vaincre which goes until summer of 2021. If it is in Vaincre, this is a totally moot point because it's correct for about 7 years, but if it's in Coast to Coast (thinking on it now it may even be in Sweater Weather, either one would be off), then it wouldn't have been 7 years, but anywhere between 5-6 years. I would need to go back and find the part.

Other Interesting Math Things I figured out while Hyper fixating:

Alex O'Hara:

In Vaincre it says that Alex had to come from somewhere other than Harvard to see Finn in the hospital after he had gotten his first concussion, meaning he wasn't attending Harvard at the time. Vaincre also introduces a whole gang of people who were all on the Harvard team at the same time, which included Alex and Logan. So there had to be at least one year where they were on it together, and I assume it's probably Logan's freshman year.

When Finn's concussion happens is never explicitly stated, but I am assuming it's Finn's Junior year based on Finn and Logan's relationship at the time (pinning and extremely reserved while not awaiting Finn leaving (all this is coming from Logan talking about the concussion in Vaincre)).

With all this to say, I can assume Alex was a Senior in the 2014-2015 school year, left to join Florida's team in 2015-2016 and met Kasey down there in their rookie year. (Obviously they proceeded to fall in love as all good O'Hara's do: fall in love with their best friend.)

Leo Knut:

*open's mouth* *closes mouth* *opens mouth again* *looks down at the ground* Leo was in 8th grade when Finn and Logan met.

Leo was 18 at the start of Sweater Weather (2019) with a birthday somewhere in Nov-Dec, so theoretically he would have been a Senior in High School the year before. If you just tick back the years, that would put him in 8th grade during the 2014-2015 school year.

Not anything important I just stumbled across it and thought it was worth sharing, may as well make this post longer.

All in All List of Math:

Logan and Finn's last kiss before Finn left for Gryffindor would have been in May of 2017 not 2016

Their next kiss would be 2 years and 7 months later, not 4 years later

Finn and Logan have been in love since they met in August of 2014, meaning they've been in love for 5 years and 6 months, not eight years.

Alex O'Hara shared his Senior year at Harvard with Logan during Logan's Freshman year

Leo Knut was in 8th grade when Finn and Logan met

Timeline

[fruitcoops]

Do They Know It's Christmas?

Happy holidays, lovelies! And most importantly, happy noot fic exchange/ secret Santa to @itsaash --you're a legend, a sweetheart, and a friend I hold near and dear to my heart. I hope everyone is staying safe and sound! You've made it through the shortest day of the year; it's only up from here! Thanks to @veryspacecowboy for coordinating the exchange and @lumosinlove for the characters!

TW for implied smut and mild Vaincre spoilers

Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus, right down Santa Claus Lane…

“Fourth line, take it left!”

…and all the fun we had last year…

“Good work, boys, remember we’re working clockwise.”

Run, run, Rudolph, Santa’s gotta make it to town…

“I know, I know, but we need to get that down before we break today.”

…come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with…

“Keep those crossovers clean in the corners, Sunny!”

…the very next day, you gave it away…

Arthur frowned at his clipboard. An ache had started up along the inner corner of his eye, and not even the steady working of his thumb brought relief. The song changed to something bright and tinny with silver bells; the things he would give for a nice, quiet O, Holy Night right about now. Something soft, with minimal jangling. A saxophone would be lovely.

They had a schedule. They always had a schedule. The boys were used to rotation exercises—he had even taken pity and not added anything new or complicated to the roundup. The whole damn thing was laminated and taped to the damn glass around the damn bench on both damn sides of the goddamn rink.

Arthur’s eyes ticked typewriter-smooth down the list, but his ears alone would have told him it was a lost cause. Messy crossovers. From Sunny. Crunchy, scratchy steps from skates of perfect sharpness. Low muttering, barks of laughter, rollercoaster-arcs of chatting when they were supposed to be focusing. Cap did his best, but Harzy looked about two laps from chewing his way out through the boards.

Well. It was almost Christmas. He could be kind.

The whistle broke through Brenda Lee’s second chorus; 20 heads popped up.

“Revision!” Arthur called across the ice, drawing a steady line through the end of his list. “Bring it in.”

Their rush to the bench was the cleanest they had sounded all day.

“We’re going to finish a little early today—”

A wave of cheers cut him off, then petered out at his unimpressed glance.

“We’re finishing a little early,” he repeated when the Christmas spirit had released their souls at last, leaving only a faint ringing in the upper levels of the bleachers. “Because I’m taking off the last rotation.”

Arthur slipped his pen back into the clipboard clamp. Olli raised a tentative hand. “So…we can go…?”

Arthur frowned. “What? No, we’re going ‘til noon, if you just—guys, the schedule is right there—”

“Nooo—”

“But Coach—”

“—Christmas!—”

“I haven’t even—”

“—been here so long—”

“—like you don’t even love us—”

“—mom’s gonna kill me if I don’t—”

Unbelievable. Simply beyond words. Arthur looked over Nado’s pleading hands, hoping for an ounce of solidarity from the one person besides himself who was literally appointed for this duty, and was met with only a beleaguered, whale-eyed stare in return.

Arthur raised his eyebrows.

Sirius gazed back.

For such a large person, he could really pull off ‘sickly Victorian child begging for gruel’ when he wanted to.

“Alright,” Arthur muttered. It was lost in the sea of writhing and wailing. “Alright!”

The team (finally) fell somewhat silent.

“I am very sorry,” he began, pausing to slide his clipboard onto the bench hook. Their anticipation was delicious. “That I assumed a group of grown men playing their favorite game for millions of dollars would be able to handle one morning practice for their last competition before a holiday break.”

Pots’ eyebrows pitched as if he had been stabbed. “But Coach, it’s Christmas.”

“It is December 22nd.”

“I haven’t even found something for my dad yet!” Walker piped in.

“Sounds like a personal problem with time management.”

Pascal—the traitor—shuffled on his skates. “I was going to make holiday cookies with my children,” he said sadly. “They grow up so fast. We might not have many years of it left.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’m letting you go at noon, not locking you in here overnight. And I know you make cookies on Christmas Eve, because you put them on my doorstep every year.”

Pascal tsked, but didn’t deny it.

“You get cookies?” O’Hara perked up, craning his neck to look at Pacal. “How come we don’t get cookies?”

“Because I don’t need you to like me,” Pascal said with a smile.

“What if we need to catch flights?” Knut interrupted.

Arthur squinted at him. “Knut, we have a game tomorrow. You better not be going anywhere.”

“Well, no, but the sentiment stands.”

“No, it does n—you know what, fine, if you make it through…” Arthur leaned around the glass to squint at his beautiful, crisp schedule. “Your next two—TWO, I don’t wanna hear it—rotations before 11:30, I will let you out then.”

“And no lift tonight?” Kuny asked hopefully.

“Don’t push it.”

“Veto.”

Budding protests froze over in one collective puff of breath.

…the stars are brightly shining…

“What?” Arthur asked at last.

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices…

Sirius licked his lips, shifting from one foot to the other. “Veto.”

Arthur opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Every eye in the room was fixed on their captain. He rested his chin on top of his hands, folded on his stick. Lupin’s gaze flickered back and forth.

“But I…” Arthur faltered, gesturing at the schedule.

“I get three.”

“It’s not even 9:30.”

“No questions asked.”

“We have a game.”

“It’s snowing outside.”

“How do you know that?” Arthur asked despairingly.

A grin skipped across his face. “I’m Canadian. I can smell it a mile off.”

“Also, Tremzy texted everyone right before practice,” O’Hara added.

“It’s snowing, have fun at practice, you fucking losers, ha-ha,” Knut recited with a grave nod.

“No, no,” Sirius corrected. “My bones are made of snow and I was born with hockey skates in one hand and a thermometer in the other.”

“That, I believe.”

Arthur waved his hands between them before the already-unbearable situation could get any worse. “Let me just…” His headache was coming back. Going home early was starting to sound less terrible by the minute. “You, as captain, get three vetoes across the span of your contract.”

“Ouais.”

“Which you can use to veto any practice you want, for any reason, with no questions asked by me or other staff.”

“That’s what I signed, yes.”

“And you’re using it on a snow day? With barely two hours left of practice? Before a game and a week off?”

Sirius smiled. “Veto.”

“Lupin.” A last-ditch effort. Perhaps a dirty play, but it was warranted. “Lupin, don’t you have anniversary plans? Birthdays? Anything else he can use this on?”

The captain’s barely-contained mischief was bad enough. Lupin’s mild bemusement was worse. “I’m sorry, Coach, but I can’t question a veto from my captain.”

Arthur scanned the crowd of hopeful faces. Sometime in the last minute and a half, Knut had slipped his phone off the bench and was doing his best to text under Winter’s elbow. Kelly Clarkson sang along to his imminent defeat. He sighed, shook his head, and opened the gate. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nobody moved.

Arthur blinked. “Merry Christmas?”

Not a twitch.

“Ho-ho-ho, get out.”

The dispersal was the most active they had been all day, surging forward in one mass of whooping red and gold. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Moody turn the music up a notch before hustling back into his office.

The herd had vanished down the tunnel in a matter of seconds. Arthur shook his head, turned his smile toward the empty rink, and pulled out his phone.

--

The locker room was a disaster.

“Don’t pull so hard!” Leo grunted as he fought to wriggle out of his jersey, hopping on one socked foot while Finn tried to help him out of his remaining skate. “I’m gonna fall, I’m gonna fall, Kasey—”

An elbow to the ribs righted him. “Yeah, no, I’m on my way out,” Kasey called over the ruckus, sandwiching his phone between his ear and shoulder. “Yeah, lemme get my shoes on. Al’s driving? Jesus, maybe I’ll just walk.”

“A tie is bad, right? That’s a bad gift?”

“T, I’m sure your dad will love anything you get him.”

“But I got him one for his birthday.”

Remus grimaced for just a moment, but it was enough. Thomas dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

“No, hey, it’s a good gift!” Remus tried, patting his shoulder. “Does he have a lot of ties?”

“He’s more of a sweater guy.”

“T.”

“I know, I know, I know.” Thomas sighed. His head fell back against his stall, then rolled toward Remus as his lip slid out in a pout. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Did Remus have to give him a minute with this one? He was a little afraid he did. “T,” he started. “Your dad likes sweaters.”

“Yeah.”

“So get him sweaters.”

“But what if he doesn’t like them?”

Remus took him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “He likes you.”

Thomas made a desperate sound and rolled his head the other way, then heaved himself upright. “I need to go outside. The cold clears my mind.”

“Way ahead of you!” Finn shouted over his shoulder, one hand clasped in Leo’s and the other on the doorknob with his skates teetering dangerously over his shoulder.

Leo hoisted their duffel bags, shuffling through the narrow doorframe with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. He gave them one last clumsy wave with a glove half-on. “Lo sends his love, even if he’ll never say it!”

“Yes, I’m coming,” Kasey laughed, presumably still to Natalie. He caught the door with his foot just as it was beginning to close; Remus grabbed the edge of it from him and waved off both his grateful look and mouthed thank you. “Yes, baby,” Kasey repeated. “Usual spot. On my way.”

It was a disaster, and then as fast as they had all tumbled in, everyone flooded out. A few of the newer guys remained, muffled by the hum of the showers. Dumo ruffled up Sirius’ hair as he passed, preoccupied by Celeste’s rapid-fire French on the phone and the hustle of his light jog. Remus was pretty sure he caught some mention of the park; there was one near their house with a pond that froze around this time of year. He was a little surprised Logan wasn’t already staking his claim on it.

Sirius’ arm was around him before he even started to sit. It made for the perfect guide and counterbalance, settling him firmly on a denim-clad thigh with a kiss to seal it in seconds. “Hey,” Sirius mumbled against his shoulder blade.

“Hi, trouble,” Remus laughed.

Sirius hummed, obviously pleased, and gave him a squeeze around the waist. “That felt good.”

“Using your powers for evil?”

“Mhm.” Another pulse, this time with a cheeky pinch to his hip. “And you.”

Remus scoffed, swatting at him, but couldn’t help leaning back into his warmth all the same. He was lucky Sirius couldn’t see the heat of his face, too preoccupied with nuzzling his way across the span of Remus’ back to leave a kiss at the top notch of his spine before burying his nose in the divot below. Odd creature, that one. Remus liked him far too much. “What are you doing?”

“You smell good.”

“I haven’t showered.”

“I noticed.”

Remus bit the inside of his cheek for a moment. He gave the room a cursory glance—the stragglers were just finishing up, too engrossed in whatever wisdom James was bestowing on them to notice the graze of Sirius’ teeth over the arch of his shoulder. “I was thinking,” Remus started, then lowered his voice. “Was thinking we could do it at home instead.”

Sirius’ smile pressed bright and devious to his skin. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Am I invited?”

“Unless I’ve started using the royal ‘we’,” Remus teased, digging his elbow lightly back into the curve of Sirius’ rib.

His laugh was soft, but the pat to Remus’ outer thigh was perfectly heavy with promise. “Get your bag.”

News of their early departure had obviously reached the ears of the rest of the training staff, because the halls were stark in their emptiness on the way out, after many goodbyes to James and promises of dinner tonight. Remus had been dying for some actual holiday time—he had planned gifts months in advance, dedicated an entire Monday to wrapping, agonized over delivery times and game schedules and delays.

But he was craving the substance of it, the literal meat and potatoes of people coming over to ooh and aah at the ornaments over dinner by the fire. Most of all, he wanted some time that was theirs. A brief moment to enjoy the lights and the smell of fir with just himself, Sirius, and the dog. It had been…three weeks? More? Since they put the wreaths and boughs up around the house. He was pretty sure that was the last time they had been able to do holiday things that didn’t involve obviously sneaking off to get gifts for each other.

Sirius seemed to feel the same. They had hardly made it past the PT room before he was pulled into an empty hallway for a kiss that melted in his mouth like butterscotch. He hummed, pushing into it, but Sirius just took him by the hips and pressed him back against the wall. Okayokayokayokayokay came the giddy whirl of the end of his thoughts.

“This.” Sirius’ mouth moved against his jaw, threatening a mark above his pulse point. “This is what I was after.”

“Cancelling practice just to kiss me,” Remus said, breathless already. His throat caught at a flash of teeth under his ear. “So irresponsible.”

Sirius’ eyes were bright and playful. “And I’d do it again.”

They got away with another minute—or five—before footsteps sounded down the other hall. Remus took him by the hand and pulled him toward the parking lot at a brisk, tumbling clip, sneakers pattering on the floors Filch was waiting to wax until they were all gone for the break. Hooligans, he called them. It echoed in Remus’ head as he kissed Sirius stupid in the hall beside the display cases. If only he could see them now.

The air bit his face as soon as they stepped outside, hot and kiss-fresh. Remus could hear voices around the corner but Sirius’ hand was sliding ever-lower and he just—“There’s people!” he hissed, fighting his grin with a blind bat backwards.

Sirius was too fast. A firm grab made him hoot, startling a laugh from both of them. “The entire world has seen us making out in a car, loup,” he snorted. “I think that’s worse.”

It was only the Cubs, after all, and half a snowman wearing a disjointed collection of gear. Leo’s oh-so-subtle text must have done the trick to summon Logan out of his holiday relaxation. He had only flown in that morning after the Rangers’ last game, but he seemed plenty awake despite the journey.

“You’re making me cold just looking at you,” he argued, adjusting his beanie over Leo’s ears while Finn finished rolling the head beside them. “You’ve lived here for years, and still you forget a hat?”

“Merci, baby.” Leo tried to sound begrudging while he obediently bent to let Logan work, but it only came off as fond. Remus could relate.

“And Fish just lets you walk out of the house like this. Unbelievable. It’s snowing.”

“It wasn’t snowing when we left,” Leo pointed out. “I seem to remember a ha-ha, losers text informing us of the change.”

Logan’s tsk was sharp as black ice while he tenderly tucked Leo’s curls under the hat’s knitted edge and kissed each of his cheeks. “Completely frozen over,” he informed Leo. “You’re welcome.”

“Now you’re going to get cold.”

Whatever disbelieving expression Logan made was lost to Remus as Sirius ushered him around the back of the car, but his scoff was plenty audible. “I’m Canadian. I don’t get cold.”

Sirius’ forehead hit the steering wheel the moment their doors closed. “I want to be home,” he complained.

“You’re in the right place to get there.”

“I don’t want to drive.”

“I can do it.”

A pathetic sigh heaved his back and shoulders. “I don’t want to wait fifteen minutes.”

Remus tugged on the back of his hat. “Not that I’ll ever say no to a little New Year’s action, but I feel like we just covered why that’s not a great idea in broad daylight.”

Sirius groaned, grumbled, and turned the car on.

Between salt and the morning commute, the roads were mostly clear. The familiar crunch of snow under tires pulled half of Remus’ brain from the rink; the other half followed at a sluggish pace, coaxed away by radio carols and the mindless chatter the two of them somehow managed in spite of spending eighty percent of their time together. The window was cold on the side of his head. Remus never liked freezing, but there was something about a snow day that always felt like home.

The house lights cast red and green glimmers over Sirius when they pulled in. They were working on getting decorations he liked; things he actually wanted, not just what Instagram said he should use. It wasn’t a lot yet, but it was a start. The icicle lights above the door had been a particularly good find.

They were greeted by a loud bark and the scrabble of paws. Hattie careened around the corner from the living room (she had taken to dozing under the tree) and spun herself at their feet in a few tight circles for maximum petting efficiency.

“We’re home so early!” Sirius cooed, gathering her wiggly body up in his lap like she was still tiny. “Oh, you’re so excited. Did we surprise you?”

“We were so mean to poor Coach,” Remus agreed as he dodged her lolling tongue. “Yes, baby, so mean, but now we’ll be home all day.”

Hattie keened and whined and nibbled on everything in reach for a tolerable thirty seconds, then launched herself out of Sirius’ lap and made a beeline for her toy box. She had hardly made it halfway to them when a cardinal flitted past outside—her ears spiked up, body puffing on a low bwoof. Remus barely got the screen door open before she was off like a bird-seeking missile, cutting through the snow in leaps and bounds.

They dumped their gear in the mudroom, made a snack, planned lunch, played with the dog, dried the dog, cleaned her paws, and finally—finally—they were standing in the same room, with nothing to do for another hour at least.

“Hi,” Remus said, heart kicking.

Sirius smiled. “Hello.”

Hattie’s teeth squealed on her peanut-butter-filled toy.

They wasted no time for foolishness on the stairs. A sweater on the ribbon-wrapped banister; socks in the hall. Sirius’ pants didn’t even make it across the bathroom threshold, belt clattering on the floor. Remus turned the shower on with his eyes closed because he quite simply could not be bothered to spare more than one hand.

“C’mere,” he murmured into Sirius’ mouth, even as he stepped backward under the spray. “C’mere, don’t move.”

Sirius’ response was wordless and perfect.

Steam built around them, chasing off the chill. The house was decorated. The presents were wrapped. Meals were planned, the dog was busy, and Remus was tired but he was so, so awake now, with ink-black hair wound around his fingers and a boy that held him so the hot water never left him.

Sirius rested his head on Remus’ shoulder and went lax at the drag of a soapy hand over his back. “So good.” His mouth rested at the curve of Remus’ jaw. Every word cooled his skin. “So good to me.”

“Doing my best,” Remus joked with a scritch to his nape.

Sirius raised his head, blinking sleepily around the water that spilled down his face. “I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t scrambling for gifts this time of year.”

“I do.”

“Mm?”

“Last year.” Remus smudged a few soap bubbles down the bridge of his nose. “Shopping for you.”

Sirius’ forehead wrinkled. “Me?”

“I was being cranky,” Remus assured him, running his thumbs over Sirius’ collarbones. He didn’t have a lot of soap left, but he would be shameless and greedy about touching like this. “Lily knocked some sense into me.”

“She’s good at that.”

“The best.”

“And she’s lucky to have you.” A kiss pushed the side of his hair into a cowlick; Sirius grinned as he smoothed it down with one hand. “Trop mignon.”

Hot hot hot hot hot. Remus wrapped both arms around his waist and sank his teeth into the knot of soft muscle above Sirius’ heart. Sirius’ laugh jostled him, but that was fine. He was used to it. “I love the holidays with you.” One last little kiss to his neck, to the spot he had bitten the other night and made Sirius’ leg tremble. “I love you.”

“I’m going to veto every single practice forever.”

“No,” Remus laughed, swaying them back and forth. He covered Sirius’ wicked smile with his hand and kissed the back of it. “No, non, not allowed.”

“But I get kisses and showers and I love you’s and dinner—” His hands skimmed up and down Remus’ sides, running over wet skin with the expertise of someone who knew all his soft spots. “—and you bite me and our dog loves us and we get to see James and Lily tonight—”

Remus cut him off with his lips this time. “Your perfect day,” he whispered, though it was just them in the house. “Sounds pretty close to mine.”

“Copycat.”

“Maybe we should just stick together,” Remus offered. Sirius’ fingertips found his own, lacing together all too easily. “For maximum perfect-day concentration, you know.”

“Nothing else, of course,” Sirius agreed.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I put mistletoe above our bedroom door when we were decorating.”

“Amateur. I put it on the ceiling above our bed.”

[itsaash]

Hi friends! The podfic for vaincre is inching towards being done, and I want to put a request out into the world. I'm looking for a voice for two characters who lumosinlove has described as being black. It's Layla, who has probably 80 lines (maybe with more to come), and Holly, who has about 5. It would be awesome to recruit a person of color, ideally a black woman, to represent them. If you're interested in voicing them, send me a message and I'd love to have you!