Remus Lupin loved his job. He did. There weren't many things a werewolf could do for a living (not in a society like the one they had), but that never stopped him from dreaming. He knew from a young age that he wanted to teach, and that he loved learning new things to then explain them to anyone who would listen.
When he was accepted at Hogwarts thanks to Dumbledore, one of his greatest role models, a seed of admiration was planted in him. Professor McGonagall also cultivated this admiration with her strict but efficient teaching method. Out of that admiration was born a passion that he never thought he would be able to pursue, due to his condition.
But now, at the age of 32, it had officially been four years since he became a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. The same place where his love for teaching was born had given him an opportunity he never thought he would have.
Remus Lupin loved his job. He really did.
The bedroom door burst open. A tall, brown-haired man dropped his briefcase without preamble and, without even taking off his shoes, plopped down on the sofa, sinking his face into one of the cushions.
—I never want to teach another spell in my life,— he muttered, his voice muffled against the cushion.
A soft, languid voice answered from a chair opposite him:
—It's good to see you too, Remus. How have you been?—
Remus looked up to see Severus, who hadn't taken his eyes off his book, even when his boyfriend of almost three years burst into his room in the middle of the night.
—Terrible, actually,— Remus replied, sitting down to take off his shoes,
—Everyone seemed to need something from me today. Minnie kept me for hours after the meeting to talk about Hogsmeade visits, then Sprout tried to convince me to pet one of her carnivorous plants or something...—
Remus continued to strip off his jacket, waistcoat, and belt, without changing completely because that would mean moving away from Severus. He settled in behind him, squeezing him around the waist and sinking his chin into his neck.
—Ugh... I'm so tired... I wanted to come early today to be with you.—
Severus, without looking away from his book, stroked Remus's hair.
—And why were you so excited to come back?—
Remus snorted.
—Because I expected to see a handsome, loving man waiting for me in bed naked— he said sarcastically.
—Oh, don't say...— Severus replied in a monotone, squeezing Remus' hair between his fingers. —Are you cheating on me, then?—
Remus, with his eyelids closed in exhaustion, bit Severus' hand lightly, and when Severus let out a small, amused laugh, he kissed his knuckles and then his palm. —Yep, with someone younger and smarter—
Remus continued kissing Severus' hand, then got distracted and started kissing his neck and chin. Severus didn't stop him, his hands went back to his hair and began to caress the back of his neck. It felt so good, that the kisses he had started to distribute slowly turned into soft, almost imperceptible touches of lips on Severus' skin.
—Are you sure you don't remember why you came?— Remus made a noise, his mind was wandering amidst the warmth, the comfort, and the smell of chamomile and wood that characterized his lover.
—You're a fool, Lupin,— Remus agreed with a small "ujum" that didn't sound like anything and fell asleep with the feel of Severus' pulse under his fingers, and the taste of his skin on his lips.
Waking up to the smell of smoke inside your house is bad. Waking up to the smell of smoke living with a potions master, on the other hand, was one of those things that made you run for the door first and worry later.
—Severus?— he exclaimed as he got to his feet and ran into the kitchen where the smoke was coming from. —Are you all right? What happened— The words died in his throat.
There were many things he still didn't know about Severus. He was aware of this, and it didn't bother him. On the contrary, he loved always having something new to learn about the man. A new hobby he had tried during his school years and hadn't had time to develop until now, songs he liked for reasons as random as the color of the cover or the singer's pronunciation of certain words, languages he had learned to read but not speak because he didn't like the sound of them, among many others. There was always something underneath that layer of reserved tranquillity, something chaotic and beautiful.
But even so, Remus was not prepared for what he encountered.
—Is that... is that a cake?—asked the werewolf, wand in hand and expression puzzled.
Severus was barefoot and sockless, his hair tied in a messy ponytail. His hands were covered in flour, chocolate, and something wet that made the flour dry and crack on his skin.
—Look,— Severus began, with an irritated expression that tried to hid his embarrassment at having been caught trying to make something sweet (literally), —cooking is not the same as making potions, and baking is much worse, okay?—
Severus set the plate with the cake, sunken in the middle and burnt at the edges, on the table full of messy, half-used ingredients. Remus snapped out of his stupor after a moment of scowling. The cake was covered with a thin layer of icing sugar and disproportionately large chunks of what looked like chocolate frogs.
—We didn't have sparks, I worked with what I could,— Severus muttered, sneaking glances at Remus' expression, who still wore that hardened expression of not knowing what the hell was going on. If you don't want it, you don't have to eat it either.
—Is it for me, then?— Remus asked, looking stupid.
—It's certainly not for me. My birthday was in January.—
Remus turned to look at the potion master, his expression melting to one of understanding. How could someone as smart as him be so slow in these respects?
—Did you forget your birthday? Lupin, what's on your mind?— asked Severus in an attempt to sound scolding, as Remus pounced on him and showered him with kisses, murmuring "Thank you" and "I love you" over and over again on his cheek.
Severus could have ordered room service. He could have ordered an elf to bring one of the most delicious chocolate cakes in all of Hogwarts, in all of the country. But Severus was secretly a hopeless romantic, so he decided that something made with his own hands would be a good gift for Remus. After all, he had wanted to spend the day with him, hadn't he?
—It's delicious,— Remus commented with his mouth full, struggling to cut a piece of the cake with just the fork he had in his hand.
—Don't be a bootlicker,— Severus replied, cleaning up the mess in the kitchen with magic as he put things away with his bare hands, —That looks more like a brick than a cake. —
—But it's edible,— he countered after giving up on the spoon and starting to cut up the cake with his hands, —And it's the first cake you've ever made, so I see this as a victory.—
Remus finished his cake with a large cup of hot tea to finish swallowing the hard biscuit. Severus watched him with his chin resting on his hands, an amused smile on his lips.
—Well...?— He asked, knowing what the answer would be — What do you want to do now?—
Remus loved his job, but today he was so happy he didn't have to attend.