The Twelve Fucks of Christmas: A Wolfstar Story

Mister Padfoot Proudly Presents...

"Merry Christmas, Moony."

Remus glanced up from the morning paper to find Sirius standing in front of him, beaming. Oh, Merlin, he's got that look on his face when he's up to something, he thought woefully. He glanced at the date on the front page of the Daily Prophet and frowned.

"Christmas isn't for another couple weeks yet," he pointed out.

"Twelve days to be exact!" Sirius nodded vigorously as he proceeded to bounce on his feet, heel to toe and back again. He had his hands behind his back, hiding something.

"I have something for you," he said hurriedly, trying to suppress the excitement in his voice. "An early Christmas present."

"Oh?" Remus folded his newspaper in half and tossed it onto the coffee table. "You want me to open it now?"

"Oh yes," Sirius thrust a plain plastic bag into Remus' hands. Remus eyed him suspiciously.

"I hope this isn't going to explode in my face, Sirius. I'm really not in the mood," he warned, cautiously taking the proffered bag, half-expecting it to bite him. Their high jinks antics hadn't let up since they had graduated—if anything, Sirius had gotten worse in the seven years since they had left Hogwarts. Bracing himself, Remus tipped the contents of the bag into the palm of his hand. He was surprised (if not a little disappointed) when a small and innocuous-looking paper booklet fell out. Curious, he turned it over in his hand, his eyes immediately drawn to the bold red lettering on the front cover:

Sex Cheques - being in debt never felt so good!

"What on earth is this?" he asked.

"Sex cheques!" said Sirius brightly. "I was Christmas shopping in Muggle London with Lily this morning—heads up, we've got Harry a set of Transformers toys; don't ask me what the hell they are, Lily just said he'd love them. We've also got James a deerstalker and a bottle of Dalmore whisky."

"Hilarious," said Remus drily, suppressing a smile.

"We also happened to pop into a Muggle sex shop while we were out—"

"As one tends to with their best friend's wife," Remus teased.

"She wanted my advice on a couple of things. You know I'm always happy to share my expertise on these matters," he winked exaggeratedly. "Mind you, I think Lily cottoned on quickly that I was taking the piss when I suggested that James would love a butt plug for his Christmas."

Remus chuckled, "Shame. He doesn't know what he's missing."

"Yeah, it's his loss," he shrugged. "Anyway, I was looking around the shop while I was waiting for her when I found this," he pointed at the chequebook in Remus' hand. "Twelve cheques, twelve days before Christmas, one cheque is valid per day. Pick your fancy."

Remus flicked through the small booklet, opening it at a random page. He snorted as he read aloud, "This voucher is valid in exchange for one blow job." He looked up at Sirius and gave him an appraising look, "You are a very naughty boy."

"Thank you," said Sirius happily, immensely pleased that Remus approved of his gift. Remus studied the book closely—it could easily be mistaken for an ordinary chequebook if the unusual small print didn't give away its true nature:

HOLDER: Will reimburse you the face value of this coupon provided it is redeemed by a specific consumer, namely, Remus John 'Moony' 'Sex-on-Legs' Lupin, at any time he so desires over the next twelve days of Christmas. Other consumers using this coupon are prohibited and restricted by the laws of love. Limit one coupon per day. For redemption, privately present to: Sirius 'Padfoot' Black.