#james breaks his glasses and reg just huffs

[rottin6]

James eating reg out and reg causing james glasses to break by how hard he’s clenching his thighs around james head

you see, anon, i firmly believe james always remembers to take his glasses off but on the odd occasion that he's just so desperate to get his head between reg's legs, i can totally see this happening

it's sloppy and messy, and all you can hear is james absolutely devouring him along with regulus' heavy moans, and then you just hear a slight crack and james freezes. regulus is panting, confused and whiny, like "why'd you stop?" and james is tonguing his cheek, pulling back to look at regulus so he can see the crack in the glass like "cause i can't fuckin see now"

[railingsofsorrow]

Unmistakably His

[james potter x regulus black]

summary: a modern jegulus au involving one direction, taylor swift, coffee and cuddles.

pairing: r.a.black x j.f.potter

w.c: 1.7K

warnings/content: domestic bliss; fluff; cuddling; making out; james: the biggest swiftie and directioner that's been known; regulus: The Simp ™; DOMESTIC BLISS!!;;*!!; the word kill is mentioned once, that's the only warning; wolfstar is mentioned.

A/N: wrote this after finals, deprived of sleep hope you like it <3

navi

masterpost

✭°。°。✭°。°。✭°。°。✭°。°。

Dropping out the heavy grocery bags by the door was the last thing Regulus did before throwing his body on the couch with a huff. He was worn out and therefore certain he could sleep forty hours straight and still feel tired.

He took a glimpse at the door — still open — debating whether he should make the effort of getting up from his comfortable position to shut it or not. His gaze fell on the vibrant red converse shoes sitting by the doorstep.

His lips twitched in a knowing smile.

It was in this hard pondering that he heard the muffled singing from upstairs. Out of tune and completely off beat, that could only be the voice of his boyfriend.

Of course, it didn't make any sense that someone else would be showering in his bedroom, but yes, that was definitely James’ excitement singing to I Loved You First by One Direction.

“That's an old one,” Regulus mumbled, leaning against the bathroom wall as he inspected the curly haired with a mess of shampoo falling in his eyes. A vision he had been rather accustomed to by now, but he still enjoyed watching.

James blinked quickly, shoving water in his eyes to be able to see the blurred image of his boyfriend's small frame since he didn't have his glasses on.

“Reg!”

“James,” Regulus replied amusedly, taking a few steps forward. The song ended and switched to You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift. He sighed. “Same playlist?”

James beamed fondly, opening the shower stall to hug Regulus, who backed away and pointed a finger at him threateningly “No. You stay there. You're making everything wet.”

“Am I?” James sent him a wriggle of eyebrows. “Then get in here, baby.”

Regulus scowled, “James. Not in that way. Literally. Just because you don't have your glasses on doesn't mean things aren't happening.”

James laughed, almost slipping on his own feet if Regulus hadn't jumped in and held him by the shoulders. “You don't know how to stand still?” he shook his head, brushing some of James’s raven curls back.

He ends up getting his cheeks smeared with his boyfriend's scented peach shampoo and a wet kiss on his lips. Regulus sighed in contentment, annoyance slipping away like water down the drain.

Until James pulled him in completely. Regulus cried out because of the cold water. His clothes immediately getting damp and sticky to his limbs. James brushed his hair back just as he had done to him previously, the fondest gaze being directed to the boy in his arms as he caressed his cheeks and the back of his neck.

“Hi.” James cups his cheeks as his eyes locked into gray ones he'd love to drown in.

“I'm going to kill you.” Regulus attempts to scowl but the warmth of James’ hands doesn't let him do any other action but melt under his touch.

James leaned in for another kiss and Regulus pinched his elbow, breaking the spell between them, and earns a shriek in surprise.

“You pinched me!” James exclaims rubbing the abused spot.

“You've wet all of my clothes.” Regulus said in a flat tone for good comparison.

“I'd do it again because of that attitude, Mr. Black,” James let out in a low whisper, cleaning up the shampoo in the boy's cheek gently. “We're saving up water,” he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Regulus pressed his lips together, “You're an idiot.”

“I'm your idiot.”

“Such a sap,” Regulus wraps both hands around James’ waist and they fit there perfectly like they always do. Regulus pulls him closer and sees James’ lips quirk upwards on one side. “But, yes. My idiot.” he mumbles, bumping their noses softly, long eyelashes tickling his cheeks.

James hums, tilting his head to peck his lips. “You took your time in Sirius' apartment.”

Regulus rolls his eyes, “He was in need of advice. The twat.”

James snickers in amusement, “Okay. And what was the advice about?”

A smirk spread around Regulus’ face as he started to play with James’ curls again, not much damp now since the shower had been turned off.

“Wouldn't you like to know.”

James blinks, “Oh,” his groan is inevitable. “You and Sirius have little secrets now? That ended so well last time.”

Regulus chuckles softly, “Yeah. But we're still the ones that can actually keep secrets, it didn't end well because you found out.”

“Hey,” James pouts, poking his cheek “Remus found out, too.”

“That wasn't the issue, darling.” James sighs, laying his face in the croak of Regulus’ neck, causing him to shiver slightly. “What?” Regulus prompts, running a hand through James’ arm.

“I love it when you call me that.”

Regulus pressed his lips against his temple, “Darling?”

James hums in his neck, closing the already minimum space by involving his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders.

“We should dry up.” Regulus chimes after a moment of blissful silence. He was sure James was falling asleep standing upright. Then the image of the grocery bags and the open door causes him to grumble in annoyance. “I haven't stowed the groceries yet.”

James leans back, forehead creasing in a confused frown, “You went grocery shopping? Why didn't you call me?”

Regulus shrugged, “I had my car.”

“Did you come up with all of it?”

“Was I supposed to leave it in the lobby, my darling?” Regulus smiles as James scrunched his nose in exasperation. “'s fine. Wasn't that heavy.”

“We were supposed to go together later in the evening, you stubborn git.”

“I was thinking that we could do something else instead, actually.” Regulus retorts, “If you want to.”

“Name it, baby,” James says. “I'll do whatever you want me to.” Regulus couldn't control the blush that would eventually coat his cheeks every time James would say things like that even before they became serious. Here he is, three years later, heart beating faster and neck warming up at the mere comment he receives every single day. James gives him a smile in satisfaction and kisses him again. “Remus would call me a simp now,” he mutters against his lips.

“Because you are,” croaks out Regulus, fluttering his eyes shut in delight as James begins kissing the side of his neck and down his collarbones. “James,” he calls in a compromised voice. James leans down to his torso and he knows he has to stop or they would be doing much more with the front door not only unlocked but wide open. “Darling, hey. James.” When James finally stands back up, Regulus hands him the towel and leaves the shower stall in a hurry.

“Where are you going?” James asks as if Regulus is leaving to go to War. He grips the towel, steps out of the stall and starts drying his body quietly. When he hears nothing, he calls out dramatically, “Baby! Come back to me!”

“Stop acting as if I left you forever,” Regulus walks back into their room after rightfully locking the door just as James exits the bathroom. Towel around his hip and glasses on his face helping him see everything clearly. A laugh blurts out of him when he takes in his boy's disheveled state: dark blue t-shirt and black trousers completely wet. “Are you laughing at me? You made me into a wet penguin, happy?” Regulus complains while rolling his eyes.

“Very.” James says non-apologetically. “Looking beautiful as always.”

Regulus slips the sticky t-shirt off of him and the pants are the next to go. James halts on his way to their closet to get dressed and pursue his lips in thought.

“Is that a test?” He asks suggestively, tilting his head.

Regulus flips him off and follows to the bathroom. James chuckles to himself, making a mental note to put a warm jumper of his on the bed so he could render his lover a little bit less annoyed at him.

They meet in the living room after Regulus is done with his long shower. His descending the stairs when James soft humming reaches his eardrums. The smell of coffee draws him to the kitchen.

Jamea greets him with a cup and a kiss on the cheek, muttering a soft “for you, baby” and steps back to rummage through the grocery bags. He was almost finished stowing the items away.

“Thank you,” he could hear Regulus smile without turning to look at him. “Need any help?”

James shakes his head, “No. Almost done. D'you want to watch a movie?” His eyes then glimmer in remembrance, “Unless what you have planned requires us to...”

Regulus lowers the cup to answer, “I made dinner reservations. At eight. We've got time.”

“Where?” James inquired curiously, closing the fridge as he finished with the groceries.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Regulus smirks knowing that James gets pissed off by this sentence. That earns him a soft poke in the ribs.

“Stop being so annoying.”

“You love me like this.”

“That I do,” James rolls his eyes fondly, following to the couch and throwing himself on it. He waits for Regulus to approach, place the cup of coffee on the coffee table and lay down on the space he left for him. Their limbs knit together as soon as he does. “Cute outfit.”

An arm hooked its way to the middle of James’ back, cold hands causing him to flinch slightly.

“Thank you. It belongs to me.” Regulus let out in a whisper. James didn't disagree because every sweater, every shirt, every fabric of his at some point had fitted Regulus’ frame. Even if way bigger than the clothes he usually wears. It's how I like it. Regulus insists.

James likes it too.

“Every ounce of my being belongs to you,” He said, tracing the path to each mole on his pale boy's face until it reached the old white line at his right cheek. Regulus was drifting off already but he felt the familiar outline of a star made by soft touches in the spot. “So yes,” James leans down to kiss the scar. “You're kind of right.”

He was. Yes.

No words needed to be said to the fact that Regulus was unmistakably his, too.

“We should dance to the refrigerator light.” James blurts out after a while. Too much silence, he couldn't handle it for a long period of time.

Regulus tapped his chest, humming drowsily in a way of quietly agreeing with him. He didn't know what he was agreeing to but he'd do whatever James wanted. Let's throw ourselves out of the building? Jump in the ocean with sharks? Tell Sirius his hair isn't pretty? Yes to all of the above.

James’ lips twitch slightly, studying his boyfriend's sleepy state. He rests his cheek on top of Regulus’ head and the sweet smell of his curls make him feel safe and right at home. He falls asleep not soon after.

[fruitcoops]

I combined two asks for this one since they fit so well together and it’s quite long. Thanks for the suggestions! Credit for Sweater Weather characters goes to the incredible @lumosinlove​!

TW for mild panic and self-blame

Prompt 31: “He’s not answering his phone”

Prompt 45: “It’s bad again. It’s really, really bad again”

“He’s not answering his phone.”

“Still?”

James slipped his cell phone into his pocket. Remus’ eyes were trained on the floor, as they had been since his arrival. “Look, Loops, you remember what he was like before. You know him better than any of us. I think—I think you might be a little too close to this, though.”

“Too close?” Remus snorted without humor. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Loops, c’mon.” James sat next to him on the couch, but Remus refused to make eye contact. “Remus. You know how Sirius deals with his problems. He shuts down and pushes everyone away because he feels like he has to be perfect all the time, even though we tell him every fuckin’ day how much he means to us. It’s just—with you, he doesn’t do that.”

“He’s never like that with me,” Remus muttered. James remained silent. “Not—not since the airport. He promised.”

And, shit, if that didn’t just break James’ heart. He wanted to be angry at Sirius: who gave him the right to cause his loved ones so much stress? That day at the airport, leading a shaking and shell-shocked Remus away by the shoulders, had been once of the worst of James’ life. “I know, that’s why I’m worried about you.”

“36.” Remus’ voice was so quiet that James almost missed it.

“What?”

“I called him 36 times while he was at All-Stars and he didn’t answer a single one. He swore he would never do that to me again.” Remus let out a trembling breath and James placed his hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Fuck, I’m not even angry, I’m just scared.”

“Me, too,” James confessed. Sirius’ instinct to run may have helped him survive for the first twenty-odd years of his life, but it wreaked havoc on his new support system. “Do you want me to try again?” Remus shook his head. “I can call Coach and see if he’s at the rink?”

“I already sent him a text, and Moody,” Remus said, running a hand through his hair. There was a gentle clacking noise and Hattie appeared around the door with her head cocked to the side. She wagged her tail and trotted over to them, then rested her head on Remus’ knees with a low whine. “Hey, babycakes. James, you don’t have to stay here with me.”

“I want to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I know what this feels like and I don’t think either of us should be alone right now or we’ll both worry ourselves into a spiral.”

“That’s fair.”

They sat in silence for a moment. James had knocked on Sirius’ door in the hours after the photos were released until his hands and feet when numb from cold, and he wasn’t looking forward to trudging through parks all afternoon to track him down. He knew he would never understand the urge to self-isolate and couldn’t blame Sirius for his shitty upbringing, but he wished his best friend had a better way to deal with his feelings.

He was about to suggest turning on the radio to distract themselves when Remus’ phone rang, startling them both with the volume. Remus scrambled to answer, his eyes wide. “Sirius?” There was a low buzzing noise on the other end and he frowned. “Dumo? Are you—who?”

Sirius? James mouthed. Remus nodded. Thank god. He leaned back against the couch and let out a long, slow breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding. If Sirius was with Dumo, he would be safe. He kicked himself a little for not thinking to check there as well, but they had no time to waste on self-pity.

“Pots and I will be there in twenty,” Remus said. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Pascal.”

James’ had the car running by the time Remus got his shoes on and let Hattie into the backyard. “I’m driving,” he said before Remus could protest. “You get to take deep breaths and focus on not strangling your fiancé when we get there, okay?”

“Got it.” Remus reached over and stopped James’ fingers from tapping on the steering wheel. “If you’re driving, you’re not allowed to freak out either.”

A knock on the front door startled Pascal Dumais out of his algebra-induced haze. He had been a decent student in school, but Adele’s math homework was a whole new level of confusing that he was not nearly prepared enough to review with her. There was another knock, harder and more frantic than before, and he frowned. The team always called before they came over, and solicitors rarely stopped by.

Adele raised an eyebrow, but cleared her stuff off the table and headed up to her room as Dumo went to the door. “Bonj—oh, mon fils.”

“It’s bad again,” Sirius said quietly. He was blinking fast and his hands flexed like he wanted to reach for something. “It’s really, really bad again.”

“Come inside.” Dumo opened the door the rest of the way and led Sirius into his office, away from any possible disruptions or unwelcome eyes. He had total faith in his family’s ability to comfort and support, but this was not the first time Sirius had come to him for help. He needed space to work through whatever was going on. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” he croaked, swallowing thickly. “I wish I did, but it came out of nowhere. I was just thinking about how lucky I am now and then I remembered that I left Reg with them and he got hurt because of it.”

“Sirius, look at me,” Dumo said gently. “When did this start?”

“An hour ago? Maybe two?” He shook his head. “Time is…hard, when I get like this.”

“What did Remus say?” Sirius remained silent. “Mon fils, did you tell him what’s going on?”

“No.”

“Why?” A murmured answer. “Pardon?”

“He has enough to worry about. His parents are visiting in a week, and he hasn’t been sleeping, and he’s stressed about the Knights game—”

“Arrête.” Sirius’ jaw closed with a snap and he looked up with guilty eyes. “Remus loves you, of course he’ll be worried about you.”

More misery darkened Sirius’ face and Dumo reached for his hands. “Fuck, I left again. I promised I wouldn’t do that.”

“Has he called?”

“I put my phone on silent. The ringtone…” he gestured vaguely at his ears. Headache.

“Hold on while I get you some water. I’m going to call Remus and tell him where you are, alright? Just so he knows you’re safe.” Dumo stood up, but paused by the door. “He’s going to want to come and see you. C’est bon?”

Sirius sniffled. “Ouais.”

Celeste was waiting for him in the living room with concern etched all over her beautiful face. “Il est bon?”

“Oui, mon amour. Thinking about Regulus and his parents again.” Dumo kissed her forehead and she held him tight around the chest. For all her softness, her love was fierce. “He didn’t tell Remus where he went.”

She made a heartbroken noise. “That poor boy. Should I call?”

“Non, je vais.” Dumo let her go with one more kiss and dialed Remus’ number. He had barely lifted it to his ear when the line connected.

“Sirius?”

“Sirius just showed up at my front door.”

“Dumo? Are you—who?”

“Sirius. He’s having a rough time and mentioned that you didn’t know where he was, so I figured I’d call.”

“What happened? I was taking a nap and when I woke up, he was gone. James has been here for half an hour. We couldn’t get ahold of him. Can we come over?”

“Of course. I think he needs you more than me right now.”

“Pots and I will be there in twenty.” There was a moment’s pause on the other end, where Remus’ anxious breathing crackled. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Pascal.”

“Anything for my boys, eh?” Remus laughed weakly and the call ended with a click. Dumo made sure to keep his ringer on as he put his phone back in his pocket and went to get water from the kitchen.

“Is Sirius okay?” Adele asked from the doorway. “He seemed upset.”

“He’s feeling better now, mon chou. He just needed someone to talk to.”

Adele tugged the end of her braid, an old habit from when she was younger and tried to grow her hair out like Rapunzel. “Are he and Remus fighting?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Good. Remus makes him happy.”

Dumo smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Oui, he does.”

Eighteen minutes and three glasses of water later, Sirius had calmed down enough that his chest didn’t hitch with every inhale. The rapid knock on the door startled them both; Dumo saw some of the guilt return to his face and made a mental note to kick Orion Black in the back of the knees the next time he showed his face. Sirius was a good man down to the bone and he deserved to be able to live without regret over things he couldn’t control.

“Sirius?” His shoulders sagged as Remus’ voice floated in from the hall and Dumo patted his forearm.

“In here.”

Remus appeared half a second later, flushed from the cold, and nearly collapsed against the doorframe when he saw them. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” Sirius confirmed, but his tone wobbled on the second word and he scrunched his nose up. Remus crossed the room in three steps and wrapped him in a hug, squeezing his eyes shut as Sirius buried his face in his neck. “I’m sorry.”

“You scared the hell out of me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not angry.”

A strangled huff punched out of Sirius’ chest and a tear trickled down Remus’ cheek. “I know. I know you’re not, and I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Dumo stood up walked silently into the hallway, closing the door behind him with a nod to James. This conversation was not for anyone else’s ears.

[fruitquake]

realizations pt. 1

read it on ao3

James Potter knows he likes girls. In his mind, that has always meant he must be straight. Of course he’s straight. Whenever he sits next to Lily Evans in class, his heart flutters and he gets all useless and flustered. He has kissed girls before, and liked it.

But then, Regulus kissed him, and he’s pretty sure a straight guy wouldn’t have liked it as much as he did. He’s pretty sure a straight guy wouldn’t be up all night, replaying it in his head, a hopeless burning sensation is his chest.

Regulus kissed him. Or did he kiss Regulus? He’s a little fuzzy on those details. But crystal clear is Reg’s lips on his own, the feeling of being featherlight as everything else faded into the background, leaving only him and Regulus.

James sighs, pressing both hands against his eyes until he sees stars, and once again, Regulus is there, a crystal clear image of soft lips and silky black hair that James messed up with his hands as they kissed. Just as he isn’t sure who initiated the kiss, it’s also a bit unclear to him who broke it off. Only that he had been absolutely speechless, staring into Regulus’s eyes for a hint that he had felt what James had felt during that kiss. Then Regulus had muttered some obvious excuse about a curfew and he had been off, leaving James with a warm, confusing feeling bubbling in his stomach.

Regulus is practically family to James. When Sirius ran away from home, Regulus stayed, and for over a year they didn’t talk. Reg avoided him at school. James remembers how hard that was on Sirius. But now, things are good between them. Reg comes over almost every day, without his parents knowing. He’s almost as much a part of the family as Sirius.

It hadn’t occurred to James, before today, that the way he feels about Regulus, the soft affection that makes his cheeks warm, could be anything other than platonic. But that bloody kiss...

James slides out of bed and gets dressed, careful not to wake Sirius, who sleeps in the top bunk. There’s one place he goes when he needs to clear his head. He tiptoes over to the window and opens it as quietly as he possibly can, glancing over his shoulder to check that Sirius is still asleep. He seems to be, so James slides out of the window and onto the roof. He sits down, careful not to step on the loose shingle. His mum doesn’t want him or Sirius to go onto the roof, of fear that they will fall down, but they do it anyway, because there really is no better place to just… sit and be. He looks down onto the street below him, the streetlights the only thing shining through the night. A cool breeze caresses his face, tugs at a rogue strand of hair. James closes his eyes.

There’s no way he isn’t straight. He has spent years watching Sirius and Remus pine after each other like idiots, and the past six months watching them be all gross and lovebird-y. And if he is… anything other than straight, wouldn’t he have realized sooner? He remembers asking Sirius, after his coming out, when he realized he was gay. Sirius had told him that, in a way, he had always known, but he had fully realized it by the time he was 12. For Remus, it was when he was 14, and similarly to Sirius, he had sort of half-known for years before that.

James had never questioned his sexuality before. Surely if he wasn’t straight, the thought would have occurred to him sooner, and not just after kissing a boy. A very, very pretty boy with very soft, kissable lips, who hadn’t left James’s mind ever since.

He sighs, leaning back his head and looking up at the sky, as though some God, if there really is one, is going to come down and give him all the answers.

“Oi.”

James starts and looks over his shoulder. Sirius is leaning against the window sill, squinting up at him. He’s wearing boxers and one of Remus’s t-shirts, which is slightly baggy on him.

“Oh,” James says, his voice a little hoarse. “I didn’t hear you get up.”

“What kind of 2 AM crisis are you having up here, and why didn’t you invite me?” Sirius asks.

James huffs a nervous laugh. “I…” he begins, but trails off, not knowing where to even start.

Sirius heaves himself up, crawling through the window and out onto the roof besides James, and James can’t help but worry that he will catch a cold, sitting out here with bare arms and legs. “Come on, spill the beans, Potter,” Sirius says, nudging their shoulders together.

“Sirius…” James looks down at his hands, nervously fidgeting. “You always say that your gaydar is flawless.”

“Uh-huh,” Sirius says. “And I have yet to be proven wrong on that.”

“Well, d’you think… could I be… anything other than straight?” He’s too nervous to look at Sirius, so he keeps his eyes on his own hands.

“Oh. It’s that kind of crisis,” Sirius says. James’s eyes dart up to meet Sirius’s. He’s leaning back a little, looking at James with thoughtful consideration. “I mean…” he begins. “I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind.”

James blinks, a little perplexed. “Really?” He had expected Sirius to laugh and tell him how ridiculous that was. That James was the straightest person he knew.

“Yeah,” Sirius just says, tilting his head back to look at the sky. It’s cloudy. Almost no stars. “I mean, I’ve caught you staring weirdly at guys several times. And you always used to get flustered around the older teammates when you first joined the football team.”

“Well,” James says hurriedly. “That was because, you know… They were older and so much more experienced and…” Really fucking handsome. He sighs, dropping his face into his hands. “I’m honestly so confused.”

“What exactly sparked this sudden confusion?” Sirius asks. “You’ve always seemed rather confident in your supposed heterosexuality.”

James pushes up his glasses, which had been falling down the bridge of his nose. He hesitates, carefully watching Sirius. When it comes to his brother, Sirius is incredibly protective, and James isn’t entirely convinced he won’t get pushed off the roof for telling the truth.

“I kissed Regulus,” he says finally, deciding that Sirius probably won’t push him off the roof.

A beat. “What?”

James swallows nervously. “I… kissed your brother. Or maybe he kissed me. A kiss happened, between me and your brother.” He watches Sirius for several agonizing seconds. “Please, don’t be mad.”

“I’m not… mad,” Sirius says. “If you were anyone else, I probably would be grabbing you by your shirt collar and threatening your life right now, but… You’re James Potter. I’d trust you with my bloody life.”

James releases a breath of relief. “Right,” he mutters. “Thank you, Sirius.”

There’s a stretch of silence between them, which Sirius is the one to break. “So… you kissed Reg,” he reiterates. “And you liked it?”

The kiss forces its way back into James’s mind, and he lets out a strange sound between a sigh and a groan. “I… think so,” he says. “I mean, whenever I think about it, I get this warm, bubbly, incredible feeling in my chest, and… Well, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Sirius grins, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah,” he says. “Doesn’t sound very straight to me.”

Well, yeah. James knows he’s right, but he can’t quite wrap his head around it.

“It’s just,” he says quietly. “I definitely like girls. I’ve always known I like girls. I mean, for goodness’s sake, I’ve been crushing on Lily for years.”

“Yes.” Sirius nods. “But that doesn’t automatically make you straight, J. You can like girls and guys, you know.”

“I know…”

Sirius covers his mouth, stifling a yawn. “I think you should talk to Re about this,” he says. “I mean, he’s the expert, really. Like… A Bisexual Messiah or something.”

That earns him a laugh from James. “Yeah, he is, isn’t he? You’re right. I’ll… talk to him tomorrow, probably.”

“Lovely,” Sirius says. “Can we please go back inside now? I’m freezing my bloody ass off.”

“You could’ve put on some trousers and a jumper, you moron!” James scolds him, and Sirius shoves him gently.

-

“Babe,” Sirius says over lunch the next day, taking Remus’s hand in his own. They share a disgustingly sweet look. “I think James had something he wanted to talk to you about.”

Remus looks at him, chewing a bit of his sandwich. He swallows. “Oh?”

“Er...” James looks around the crowded school cafeteria. “Can we talk somewhere more private, maybe?”

Peter looks up from his lunch. “What’s it about?” he asks James.

“Nothing,” James says, a bit too fast. “There’s just something I wanted to ask Re. It’s nothing interesting, don’t worry, Pete.”

“Then why do you need to go somewhere private?” Peter presses on.

Sirius opens a canned soda, looking around to check that no teachers are close by. Every day at lunch, he plays the same game of “Can I drink my soda before a teacher confiscates it?” Most days he’s not quick enough to actually finish it, but it doesn’t stop him from trying. “Damn, Petey,” he says. “Maybe it’s none of your fucking business. Shut up and eat.”

If someone else talked to Peter like that, they would probably end up with Sirius’s fist in their face, but apparently, it’s fine when Sirius does it himself.

Remus takes another bite of his sandwich, before putting it down. “Well,” he says to James. “We can go find an empty classroom if you’d like.” He looks intrigued, and James guesses Sirius hasn’t told him anything yet.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” James says, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. It was one thing, telling Sirius last night. He has always told Sirius everything, and there’s something about that spot on the roof that makes late-night talks feel… almost sacred. Telling Remus will be a bit more daunting. But he follows Remus out of the cafeteria and into an empty classroom, anyway.

“So,” Remus says, shutting the door behind them. “What did you wanna talk about?”

James realizes he probably should’ve thought this through beforehand. He has no clue what to say. “Well,” he begins awkwardly. “You’re bi.”

For a few long seconds, Remus just looks at him, confused. “Yes?” he says. “I… know?”

James sighs, leaning back against the teacher’s desk. He combs a hand through his hair, messing it up at the back. “Yeah, it’s just that, er… I think I might be bi, too?” He looks up for Remus’s reaction.

“Oh!” Remus says. “But you aren’t sure, or…?”

“I don’t know,” James mumbles. “I’m bloody confused. And Siri said I should talk to you because you’re like… The Bisexual Messiah. I think that’s how he phrased it.”

Remus grins. “The Bisexual Messiah? Huh. I should get that on a t-shirt.” James must look quite miserable, because Remus clears his throat, looking a bit more serious. “So you’re questioning if you might be bi?” he asks softly.

James nods. “I kissed… someone,” he says. “A guy. It was Reg, actually.”

Remus arches an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, so James goes on:

“And it felt really, really good. I practically haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. But I’ve just always thought of myself as, you know, completely straight. But, well, as Sirius pointed out to me yesterday, there’s not really anything straight about the way I felt when I kissed him.” He bites his lip, looking up at Remus.

“Right,” Remus says thoughtfully. “What exactly did you need me for? Sounds like you’ve got it figured out alright.”

“I have?” James asks in bewilderment.

Remus chuckles. “Okay, maybe not, then,” he says. “I just meant, you know… You’ve known for a long while that you liked girls. And now, after kissing Reg, you’ve realized that you like guys too, right?”

Does he like guys? James lets his mind wander, filtering through memories he didn’t realize he had archived. A gym locker room, all of them sweaty after football practice. One of the older students, shirtless, slinging an arm around James and telling him he played well, and James getting light-headed and flustered. He had told himself it just felt good to be acknowledged by an older, more skillful teammate, but looking back on it, it was possible that some of the heat rushing to his cheeks had been because of their bare skin touching. And then there were the dreams, which he had dismissed as not meaning anything, but… Perhaps dreaming about kissing boys did mean something.

“Huh,” he says finally. “I’m… lowkey stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’ve somehow managed to ignore loads of signs that I wasn’t straight. And I didn’t even realize it before now!”

Remus’s face softens. “Jem, that’s… completely normal. I think a lot of queer people at some point look back and wonder how they didn’t realize sooner. I certainly did.”

“Oh.” James laughs breathily. “Well… Shit. This is interesting.”

Remus laughs with him. “You know,” he says. “You can take as much time as you need to figure all of this out. And if you have any more questions, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Re,” he says. “But… I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“Oh, okay.”

James lets the silence stretch for a moment. His palms are sweating a little, and he wipes them on his trousers. “So, er… Can I tell you something?”

Remus smiles a little. “Yeah.”

“I’m bisexual,” James tells him, and… wow. Saying it out loud feels incredible, like a weight he didn’t know he was carrying being lifted off his shoulders. He grins.

Remus nods, grinning back at him. “That’s great, James, thank you for telling me!” Then, after a short pause: “Have you talked to Regulus?”

The mention of him brings the memory of the kiss back in full effect, and James can feel his cheeks heat up. He’s grateful that his darker skin makes it almost impossible to tell when he’s blushing, though he guesses Remus still senses it. “Not since he practically fled yesterday, after we… you know.”

“Ah,” Remus says. “Well… Maybe you should. Talk to him, I mean.”

James sighs, ruffling his hair with one hand. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I usually am,” Remus says with a grin. “That reminds me, Siri owes me ten pounds.”

“What? You and Sirius had a bet running on my sexuality?” James asks, slightly indignant, but more curious than anything.

Remus shrugs. “Well, no. We had a bet running on whether you would realize before we graduated. And you did!” He throws his hands up in a little gesture of victory, and James groans.

“You’re the worst,” he says. “You’re both the bloody worst.”

[azkabcn-archive]

Home, a Sirius Black fanfiction; Part 1/1

Yo, it’s our boyo’s 58th birthday today, so this is just a lil thing I’ve written to celebrate

Seven years old. In his room, a glass of water for breakfast. Alone. He can hear laughter from downstairs. Mother, Father, Regulus. Happy. Without him. Peaceful. They'll never yell at Regulus. Regulus is their favourite son. Sometimes their only son. Their best son.

Sirius is nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. He's rude, he's ungrateful, and he's disgusting. He doesn't fit the Black family values. He doesn't fit the Black family tradition.

He tried making friends with a halfblood last week. Maybe this is why he's been left alone today. His birthday. Not even a happy birthday. He won't get a present. Not now. Not now that he'd broken the rules. He has to learn his lesson. The cane marks on his back still burn.

He spends his fifth birthday in his bed, under the covers, trying not to cry. It doesn't work.

He hears the key turn in the lock and turns to the door. What's going on? Are they letting him out? The answer is no. 'Regulus, sweetheart, you have five minutes okay?' he hears. 'Mummy will be back for you in five minutes.'

His brother pokes himself into the room. 'Hi, Siri!' he exclaims.

Sirius doesn't stop the smile as he sits up. 'H-hey, Reg.' His voice is cracked.

Regulus runs and clambers onto the bed. 'It's Siri's birthday,' he announces.

'Yeah,' Sirius sighs. 'Siri's birthday.' His face screws up involuntarily. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. Not in front of Regulus, never in front of Regulus.

The younger boy plops himself onto Sirius' lap. He pecks his older brother on the cheek, whispers, 'I love you, Siri,' and wraps his arms around Sirius' neck.

He can't stop himself. A tear falls down his cheek as he holds Regulus close to his chest. 'I love you too, Reg,' he murmurs, the lump in his throat difficult to swallow back.

He ushers Regulus out of the room before laying his head back down on the pillow and weeping the rest of the day away.

Eleven years old. Away from home. He's in Hogwarts. In Gryffindor. (Not Slytherin; he doesn't think about his family.) They don't know. James, Remus, Peter; they don't know. They don't know about the pain. That he's never had a good birthday.

But Hogwarts is home now. Home. Where he doesn't get hit, where he isn't left alone, where… there's three presents waiting for him at the foot of his bed…

He rushes to them, jumping onto the mattress. One from Peter, one from Remus, and the last from James. He looks around the room. It's empty. They'd probably sneaked in at breakfast.

He opens Remus' gift first. It's a copy of Quidditch Through The Ages. He half-smiles. Trust Remus to get him a book.

Peter's is an Appleby Arrows poster, the players flying across the page on their broomsticks. He sticks it up on the wall over his bed.

James' is a broomstick servicing kit, which confuses him because he doesn't have a broomstick to service yet. He opens the kit to see a note sitting on the black velvet. He opens it to find James' swooping handwriting.

Yeah. You haven't got a broom. I know. I wanted to give you one but Professor McGonagall said I wasn't allowed yet. But next year. Next year I'll get you your first broom and it'll be fantastic. Happy birthday, mate.

James

Sirius' heart swells with friendship, with love, and he finds himself blinking to hold back the tears again.

But these are different tears. They're happy tears. Because for the first time in his life, Sirius Black feels cared for.

'You like them, huh?' James says from the door, smiling softly.

Sirius doesn't know what's come over him. He jumps off his bed and throws himself at James.

'Thank you,' he whispers through his tears (he doesn't try to contain himself anymore; he's so happy.). 'Thank you so much.'

'Mate, I only got you a broom cleaning kit,' says James, placing his arms around Sirius in a hug. 'It was nothing, honestly.'

'No,' mutters Sirius, 'I don't mean that,' and proceeds to tell James everything.

James Potter lends an ear like a brother.

Fifteen years old. Gryffindor Common Room. The music is so loud he can't think straight.

This is for him. For Sirius. Sirius has never had something done purely for him before. It's an entirely strange concept but he slowly finds himself warming up to the idea that friends are allowed to do nice things for other friends.

He sits on the table, glass in hand. He surveys the room. The Marauders, Lily, and Marlene McKinnon are the only ones still dancing. Everyone else has fallen asleep. Everywhere he looks, the sofas, the floor, even the tables next to him, there are people sleeping. He's pretty sure some of these people have passed out.

They hadn't permitted anyone below fourth-year into the room. And for good reason too, with the amount of alcohol they've been drinking. Bottles seem to be everywhere there isn't a person.

Someone's hand slides down his arm. 'Siri, come dance…' Remus' voice is very slurred, and Sirius notices the bottle that Remus is trying to hide.

'I'm kinda tired, Re, maybe later?' he tries reasoning.

Remus gives an indignant huff. 'It's your party, though,' he points out.

Sirius chuckles. 'I know, babe…' he rolls his eyes, taking a glance at the clock. One fifty-three. He knows he's not getting out of this anytime soon.

Yet he does it anyway. 'Okay, Remus. Lead the way.'

The excited yelp Remus gives as he pulls Sirius off the table is enough to make anyone's heart swell.

Nineteen years old. He sits with Remus in their flat (their flat) in front of the TV.

'Sirius, what do you want to do for your birthday, love?' Remus asks as he traces circles on Sirius' hip.

'I wanna stay in today, spend it with you. Maybe order food in or something,' says Sirius dismissively. 'I don't really care, I just wanna be with you.'

Remus smiles. 'Alright,' he sighs contentedly, manoeveuring them so Sirius' head rests on his chest. 'Happy birthday, Sirius.'

Sirius feels as if he could burst with happiness. He's got his own home, his own person right here with him and he's the happiest he's ever been.

It's when they're clearing up after they've eaten later that night that Remus asks to turn on the spot to drop something in the bin. When he turns back, Remus is on one knee by the fireplace in the living room, a small box open in his hand.

'Oh!' he gasps. He didn't see this coming at all.

'Sirius Black, I have known you for the better part of nine years,' begins Remus softly, 'and I know that you've not had the best start in life, but you have given me an amazing present and the hope for a beautiful future. And so I ask that you accompany me so my beautiful future can become yours too. Sirius… will you marry me?'

Sirius only manages a husky, 'Yes,' before he drops to his knees and crashes his lips to Remus'.

xxx

Twenty-three years old. In Azkaban. He doesn't even remember. It's only been two years and he's forgotten.

Everyday is the same. Day after day, all he can think about is the pain. The pain, physical and emotional, inflicted upon him by his parents.

The emotional pain inflicted upon him when James and Lily were murdered.

He can feel his heart break again.

Harry, his godson, left orphaned in a crib.

James, his best friend, left dead by the stairs.

Lily, the girl he protected, left defeated in broad daylight.

Remus, his loving fiancé, left all alone in their home.

Peter, the friend they trusted, a coward beyond redemption.

There is a war, a raging war in his mind. The thoughts are winning. The dark, dreary thoughts are winning and he can't get them to go away. They won't go away.

He needs to scream. He needs to let out all of his frustration, all of his anger, all of his pain.

But. He. Can't.

It's stuck. Stuck, stuck, stuck, stuck, and he can't get rid of it.

The thoughts are destroying him. Rotting his mind. And… he lets them.

He hasn't got the heart to stop them.

He's never had the heart to stop the thoughts telling him he needs to die.

So, when Sirius Black turns twenty-three, on November third, nineteen eighty-two, he makes the decision to stop fighting and lets the dementors consume him.

[philipronans]

something tangerines (2/7)

it’s sunday, which means it’s something tangerines day!!

this was meant to be a fun, happy fic and for the most part i think it still is but just be warned that there are mentions of homophobic language via snape bc he’s a grade a citizen.

as per usual there’s james/sirius in this part, although it’s mostly done to piss snape off, so it doesn’t have to be read that way??? idk if you wanna go on believing they weren’t at least 90% In Love that’s your prerogative

part one | part three

.

2007 The classroom they decide to use for the Christmas party is an old one, tucked away on the bottom floor of the art block. The building itself is a relic of a time long passed, looking like it belongs in a BBC period drama more than as a functioning art block. But no matter how pretty the outside might be, the inside always smells musty; hundreds of years of recycled air packed into tight hallways and tighter classrooms. James’ nose wrinkles as they step into the room. It’s usually used for Drama classes, and the combined stink of age and teenager sweat invades his personal space pretty much immediately. Two years of secondary school should mean he’s used to it, but it still sucker punches him every time. Sirius coughs behind a cupped palm as he toes off his shoes. He kicks at them in a futile effort to make them line up straight, but all he gets for his trouble is untied laces and mud on his socks. James watches him for a few moments, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles. He looks away when Sirius glances at him, pretending to be interested in Benjy Fenwick making rude gestures at Bertha Jorkins. The huff Sirius lets out suggests that he hasn’t bought it, but James is already strolling across the room, hands tucked in his pockets.

Sirius follows him, because Sirius always follows him. They’re like magnets, drawn together regardless of anything standing between them. Or so Remus says. Remus, who is already sat in their usual place by the fire door, his gangly legs stretched out in front of him. There’s a book in his lap, long, thin fingers playing with the corners of the pages as he reads. He looks up at their approach, frown morphing into a small smile when he sees who it is. Befriending Remus had been an endurance test in every virtue James knows. Just when he’d thought he knew every vital thing there was to know, something else had revealed itself and knocked him off kilter. He hadn’t been above using the onion line from Shrek to prove his point on multiple, separate occasions.  “You’re late.” Remus says, pragmatic as almost always. He closes his book, top corner folded neatly when he slips it back into his bag. He raises an eyebrow when neither of them answer, and James shrugs noncommittally.  “Got held up.” Is all he offers, because there’s no way he’s telling Remus that Flitwick kept them back for flicking elastic bands at the back of Lucius Malfoy’s head. Again.  “‘Course you did.” Remus says, eyeing them as dubiously as a thirteen year old can manage. Which, James figures as he shifts around uncomfortably, is a lot. Sirius flops down next to Remus, shrugging out of his coat and scrunching it up for a pillow. There’s a tiny Christmas tree in the corner, half of the lights are either broken or missing, and the ones that aren’t are barely functioning. Sirius looks at it disdainfully, eyes narrowed as if the sight of it personally offends him.  “What are we even here for?” He grumbles half-heartedly. He lays down properly when James lowers himself to the floor, and barely complains when James rests his head on his stomach. “No one wants this stupid party; we could have just finished for the holidays yesterday.”  “There’s that Christmas spirit.” James says, voice muffled by the arm he has thrown over his face. He shifts slightly as his glasses dig into the bridge of his nose, and yelps when Sirius pokes him.  “Christmas can bite me.” Sirius says. There’s an edge to it, soft and subtle as it might be, and James lowers his arm to his chest.  “You still going to France for the holidays then?” He tries not to sound disappointed, because the sense of loss he feels at the idea of not seeing Sirius for three weeks is stupid. It’s not even like three weeks is that long, in the grand scheme of things. But being without Sirius is what he imagines waking up to find yourself missing a limb would feel like; he can function (regardless of what his mother says, he’s not completely hopeless), but it’s difficult, the world feels more oppressive, more hemmed in.  “Yeah.” Sirius grunts. He doesn’t seem to notice the hand that works its way into James’ hair, fingers gently combing through the tangled mess. “I don’t even know why; they hate it. I hate it. Reg hates it. It’s just three weeks of us being pissed off at each other.”  “Misery loves company.” Remus murmurs. He’s leaning on his hands, head tipped up to the ceiling as he studies the cracks in the plaster. “At least you’ll get to go outside.”  “At least you’ll have people to talk to.” Sirius counters, but he looks sheepish, and he pats Remus’ knee sympathetically. Remus’ proposed stint in hospital for testing is a black cloud on the horizon, creeping ever closer no matter the three of them try and pretend it isn’t happening.  “I can’t wait for three weeks of being asked the same questions four times a day.” Remus smiles, as much as Remus ever smiles anyway, lips twitching at the corners but never quite pulling up.  “Hey,” James says, reaching over Sirius’ skinny chest to nudge at Remus’ hip, “at least you’ll have me coming to see you.”  “The biggest gift of all.” Sirius can’t avoid the fingers jammed into his side because James’ head is pinning him place, so he lets out a bark of laughter.  “Shut up, you’re just jealous you have to wait until January for your present.”  “If you’ve bought me another Terry’s chocolate orange, I swear to God, James.” Remus says warningly. James tilts his head so he’s looking at Remus upside down, and frowns.  “One time. You try and be nice one time and see what it gets you. Two years of bullying. See if I bother this year.”  “You left it lying on the radiator.” Sirius says, body shifting under James’ head as he shrugs. “And were surprised that it had melted?”  “I wasn’t a smart eleven year old, alright?” James says defensively. “But never fear, Lupin, it’s not a chocolate orange.”  “Because that fills me with confidence.”  “It should. I’m great at presents.” Sirius snorts, the sound completely undignified, and it sends the three of them into giggles.  “When d’you reckon Slughorn’s lot are gonna show up?” Sirius asks when they’ve finally calmed down.  “Buggered if I know.” James answers around a yawn. “Wish they’d hurry up though, I’m hungry and they’re the ones bringing food.”  “Classy.” Remus says, lifting an arm to cushion the back of his head.  “Well, we all know you want them here for the dancing.” Sirius grins. James’ hand lands on his wrist, in a pathetic attempt at a high five. Instead of trying again, he just leaves it there with his fingers measuring the fluttering of Sirius’ pulse under his fingers. Sirius keeps very still, as if scared that moving will alert James to what he’s doing and stop.  “Remus,” James says thoughtfully, fingers tracing patterns into Sirius’ wrist, “if I gave you a fiver would you ask Dorcas to dance?”  “Not a chance.” Remus’ reply is rapid-fire quick. It comes out of him like a shot, rocking his body with the force of it, and they all stop for a moment to stare at each other.  “I mean, only if you’re sure, Lupin.” Sirius says with an almost straight face. It takes him mere seconds to break, face cracking into a smile despite the obvious effort to contain it. Remus laughs, a quiet huff of a thing that fills James’ chest with satisfaction. “If you buy me a coke, I’ll think about it.”  “Just one? You cheap bastard.” James sniggers. Remus hums, not really bothering to deny it. Even if he were, the door opens not long after and in trail the unhappy looking faces of 9HS. James isn’t sure… anyone… likes 9HS. They’re a form group made of thugs and liars, each and every one of them guilty of at least one case of bullying. They’re all growing up to be the worst kind of bigot, and James hates them more than he’s hated anything. Why 9MM is forced to spend time with them is anyone’s guess, but the faculty of Hogwarts Secondary School seem determined to make their students suffer at any and all opportunities. The air in the room seems to disappear when they enter, the atmosphere tense and uncomfortable even as they kick off their shoes and settle down on the other side of the room. Lily Evans bounds across the room, from where she was standing with her friends Marlene and Dorcas, to stand in front of one of them. Severus Snape is, in James’ opinion, one of the worst of the lot. He has a way of twisting his way out of trouble; feigning ignorance and innocence to the things he does, even when there are witnesses.  “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” Lily says, smiling. James wishes he could block this conversation out of both his retinas and his eardrums, but they’re standing right there, so there’s not much he can do besides grit his teeth and ignore the way his blood is boiling.  “Slughorn let us out earlier than he said he would.” Snape answers, and if the look he shoots over his shoulder at Mulciber and Lestrange is uneasy then Lily doesn’t appear to notice.  “Well, you’re here now, I s’pose.” The smile remains but it becomes a little strained at the edges when Snape does nothing but stare at her for a few moments. “Or you can. Stay. With your friends.”  “No, I.” Snape’s words seem to trip over themselves, and he has to stop for a second before trying again. “No, I’ll be over in a minute. Promise.”  “Okay.” Lily says. She turns on her heel, shoulders slumping slightly when she meets Marlene’s eye. She catches sight of James and Sirius still tangled around each other and snorts, completely inelegant. “Comfy?”  “Quite.” Sirius says, grinning cheekily up at her. “Wanna join?”  “As tempting as that is,” Lily’s lips twitch, eyes creasing at the corners, “if I get down there I’m not getting back up.”  “A shame.” Sirius lets out a mournful sigh, stroking a hair through James’ hair and huffing when said hand is batted away. “It’s nice.”  “Poof.” It’s not loud, is the thing. It’s quiet, clearly not meant to be heard, but whilst James’ eyes might be shit, his hearing is not, and he freezes. He clambers to his feet, joints popping as he stretches and he levels an unimpressed look at the boy in front of him.  “Something wrong, Snape?” He asks, voice quiet and stern. It means trouble, and Sirius stands up immediately, ready for wherever this might go. Lily hasn’t moved either, has turned back to watch them with her arms crossed tight across her chest.  “Nothing.” Snape sneers, and it’s an ugly look. One full of hate and scorn. “But if you’re going to be gross, take it somewhere else.”  “You’re still here, so why should we?” Sirius says, shifting so he’s shoulder-to-shoulder with James. James still hasn’t let go of his hand, and it’s only because he can feel how sweaty his palms are that he can tell James is nervous. Snape narrows his eyes into a glare, which would have a lot more effect if he weren’t so scrawny.  “Now I know you don’t know what it’s like to feel love, Sniv, but that’s no reason to take it out on other people.” James says, voice managing to sound almost kind, even as his knuckles tighten around Sirius’ fingers.  “Potter,” Lily begins, stepping forward, ready to intervene when and if necessary, but Snape cuts her off.  “At least I don’t repulse girls to the point I have to turn to boys.” Snape says, sneer still in place even as his face pales.  “No, you just repulse everyone. Equal opportunities, and all that.” Sirius snaps back, voice tight. James snorts and squeezes his hand. Sirius squeezes back and stares at Snape in annoyed defiance.  “You’re disgusting.” Snape eventually settles on, lips pressed into a thin line. “People like you are disgusting.”  “That’s rich coming from you, Sniv.” James clears his throat, very much aware that Lily is standing not too far away and that he must be careful in how he says things, for her sake if nothing else. “Heard you said some nasty things about Ameena Patil the other day.”  “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Lily shoots him a disapproving look, and steps back a little. It means she’s closer to James, and he is sorry for this, but attempts at comfort wouldn’t be welcome right now, so he keeps his hands to himself.  “Heard you made her cry. Making an eleven year old cry; that’s real big of you.”  “Gentlemen, I trust that there aren’t any problems over there.” McGonagall’s voice floats across the room, and James turns his head to see her standing in the doorway. She has her hands on her hips, a ceramic mug filled with tea hanging precariously from two fingers, and how she’s not spilling it is honestly magic.  “None at all.” Sirius says smoothly, angling himself so his arm’s around James’ waist, and he’s placed himself in front of Snape. “Just a difference of opinion.”  “Undifferentiate.” McGonagall says, voice brooking no argument, and it almost makes James smile.  “Of course.” He meets Sirius’ eye, sees the mischief in them and nods. It doesn’t matter what Sirius plans to do, he trusts him enough to go with it. Sirius leans forward, eyes boring straight into Snape’s, and presses his lips to James’. It’s not that James had been expecting it, exactly, but he isn’t surprised. So it doesn’t take him long to lift a hand to the back of Sirius’ head and lean into it, noses bumping and glasses scratching as he moves. There are no butterflies, and no fireworks. There’s just warmth, and hot air, and the brush of Sirius’ eyelashes against his cheek. But it’s good. It’s enough.  “Thank you, gentlemen.” McGonagall says, and it makes James pull back enough to look at her. She’s got an eyebrow raised, but there’s a tilt to the edge of her mouth that makes him think she’s fighting a smile. Benjy wolf whistles, sending those from 9MM into amused titters. The other side of the room looks on in varying levels of disgust, and Sirius smiles at them. James’ gaze flits to Lily, and she’s watching them, her brow furrowed. She tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, and then meets his eye. She seems surprised to find him looking at her for she flushes lightly and ducks her head, before shaking herself and stepping back.  “I’ll be over in a minute.” Snape promises, and Lily offers him an aborted attempt at smile. It looks far more like a grimace than anything, and she shakes her head.  “It’s okay, you can stay with your friends.” With that she calmly walks back over to her own friends, head high as she goes. James watches her go and can’t help but feel that he’s let her down somehow.