Archive of Our Own

The first time it happens, they are both freshly seventeen, still at Hogwarts. Filled with unleashed potential, feeling like they have the entire world at the palm of their hands.

They’ve just won the last game of the season, they are both drunk out of their minds, and Sirius is watching James, who is standing in the middle of the common room, singing loudly (horribly so) with his shirt off and the muscles of his chest and abdomen glistening beautifully from the butterbeer Peter has previously spilled all over him.

Sirius can’t blame him, really, he would spill so much more than just butterbeer at the sight of James Fleamont Potter’s glorious abs.

Somehow, in a fit of giggles and a half hearted wrestling match to the top of the stairs, they make it back to the dorm. Sirius falls back into his bed, and James, who is too drunk for his own good, to the point he can not even reach his own bed without toppling over, stumbles and falls on top of him.

The proximity is nothing he is not used to in their daily routine, but James is shirtless, with lines of red and orange paint over his chest, his hair still damp from the shower, looking at him with those big, warm, brown eyes, and Sirius lets his guard down for a moment, makes the mistake of letting the separation bar he usually keeps in his head between his own messed up fantasies and their friendship drop, just for a moment, but that moment is enough.

James rolls on top of him, their thighs now pressed together, holding himself up on two elbows by the sides of Sirius’ face. He smirks down at him, eyes narrow and dark, and one of his hands lands on a few stray strands of Sirius’ hair accidentally, pressing down in a way that sends a forceful tug to Sirius’ head.

Sirius can feel himself instantly getting hard.

If he’s lucky, James won’t notice - or if he does he will think it’s just the alcohol and the adrenaline causing him to be overstimulated and won’t comment on it (or hopefully will entirely forget it by the morning).

James shifts over, trying to get into a more comfortable position; his leg moves, knee brushing against Sirius’ inner thigh, pressing between his legs, and Sirius involuntarily lets out a sound akeen to a moan.

James freezes, abruptly sobering up as he stares down at him, and for a painfully long moment of pure, dreadful horror, Sirius thinks that he is going to punch him and throw him off the bed.

Then his lips break out in a wide, smug grin, and James (the absolute bastard) presses his knee in further, rubbing it against the growing bulge in his pants. His hand moves closer, now consciously coming up to grab a handful of hair, and James tugs on it, synchronising it with the way he thrusts his thigh up against Sirius’ throbbing erection.

Sirius whimpers (actually whimpers, how in the hell is James capable of pulling these sounds out of him? He does not even make such sounds when he’s touching himself) and his hips buckle up into the touch involuntary, wanting more.

“James-” He gasps out, hands coming up to grip the other’s shoulders, trying to slow him down with the last bits of his self that is still thinking of the consequences the morning after. “I- What are you doing?”

James groans loudly and drops his head against Sirius’ shoulder, every word coming out as a hot breath against his skin. “Say that again.”

“What are you doing?” Sirius asks again, trying-- and failing, to sound playful.

“No.” James growls, a nearly animalistic noise at the back of his throat. “My name, you douchebag.”

James’ name is the only coherent thing that Sirius’ mouth manages to conjure when James climbs further onto him, straddling him with his hips, and unbuckles both their trousers to push their hard cocks together.

It takes less than a minute of the two lengths rubbing together against each other, slick and shiny with already dripping pre-cum, for them both to come undone, gasping and holding onto each other, shaking as the liquid mixes together, spilling all over the sheets around them.

James exhales shakily and drops down to the mattress, rolling over to lie by Sirius’ side.

“I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever done it.” He mumbles, his voice already soft with sleep.

“Yeah,” Sirius rasps out, still fighting to get his breathing under control, “me too.”

-

When Sirius wakes up the next morning, with a headache and in nothing but his boxers, James is already gone. Not just from the bed - his own is empty as well, perfectly made and tucked in - and he is nowhere to be seen in the dorm.

Sirius feels a sinking feeling of dread in his stomach.

Stupid, he tells himself. So, so stupid.

This little moment of hormonal teenage weakness might have just cost him years of friendship with the most important person in his life.

He makes his way into the Great Hall confidently, with an intimidating frown and wide strides, radiating that everything is fine to all the eyes around him, but on the inside he has never felt more unsure and lost in his life.

James is at the table, with a glass of pumpkin juice in his hand, laughing loudly as he talks to Frank about something related to the team.

Then his eyes land on Sirius.

For a split second he looks startled, blinking at him, lips parted just the slightest bit. Then he is grinning, widely, happily, and moving aside to make space for him at the table, throwing an arm around his shoulders when Sirius comes by to sit next to him. He talks loudly, engages him in the conversation, asks questions. Does not touch him more than he usually would, but does not avoid contact either.

Just like he always does. Like last night never ever happened.

For a moment, Sirius wonders if he was too drunk to even remember anything from that night. He decides to play it safe this time, and not bring anything up unless James talks about it first.

James does not talk about it, not the same day, and not the day after that, and not the next week either. He still climbs into Sirius’ bed in the evening to sit there and talk to him, still flirts with Evans aggressively during class, still presses kisses to Sirius’ cheeks when he makes a particularly good shot during a game.

Sirius thinks they have silently reached a mutual agreement to not bring it up.

He locks the memory far away in his head, and only dares pull it out when he’s in bed at night, alone, and everyone is asleep too deep to hear him mouth James’ name silently while he strokes himself.

At first he is almost convinced he is hallucinating when, two weeks later, it happens again.

There is a game, and someone on the rival team throws an offhand comment about James, which isn’t anything new, but the comment is personal, aimed to hurt (Sirius sees him try to shrug it off when Frank gives him a friendly slap on the shoulder, telling him to focus, but he can tell it’s bothering him to leave something like this unanswered), so Sirius does the most reasonable thing anybody would do in his place - he punches the guy square in the jaw and buries him in the ground with his fists.

He gets a nosebleed in return when another player elbows him in the face, but it’s so worth it, worth the momentary shock and the happy surprise on James’ face, the way he pretends to be horrified at Sirius’ behaviour when Frank barks something at him, but his eyes are glinting and the wide, genuine smile when he finishes laughing makes his face glow.

Alice tries to get him to the Infirmary, but Sirius just shrugs it off and walks straight to the showers. His nose isn’t broken (he has had a broken nose numerous times in the past, he knows what it feels like), but there is still fresh blood slowly dripping down his nostrils, and a dry, red trail that goes through his lips, all the way down to his chin, leaving several crimson stains on his otherwise clean undershirt.

James keeps staring at him in the locker rooms, his expression adorably puzzled with a small frown of deep concentration in place, eyes flickering from Sirius’ nose, to his lips, to his chest, and so on and on, tracing the red trail several times until Sirius is laughing and turning around and asking him, “What is it?”

“You’ve got something,” James raises a finger and taps it against his own chin, eyes fixated on Sirius, “over here.”

Sirius blinks at him, frozen mid-motion with the bloodied shirt only half off of him, still stuck around his arms, and raises a hand to touch his chin, like the statement is somewhat of a surprise to him.

“Let me help you.”

He suddenly comes to the realisation that they are alone, the last two left in the changing rooms, and the next thing he knows James is crossing the room and pushing him down onto the bench behind him. Sirius just stares, mesmerised, as he watches James drop to his knees in front of him, hands tugging on Sirius’ shirt to get it off. He raises his hands and cups Sirius’ face between them, cradling it gently, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. Sirius’ own hands come up to rest on James’ arms lightly, but he makes no movement to stop him or push him away.

James moves his hand, and now his thumb is brushing against Sirius’ lips, where the blood from his nose has dried around the edges. He strokes his bottom lip with the tip of his thumb gently, and Sirius’ mouth instinctively opens, letting it through.

He feels James suck in a sharp intake of breath. He moves his hand away and pushes himself up, leaning closer, and for a foolish second Sirius thinks he might actually kiss him when their mouths come so close they almost touch, but then James licks him, up the chin and all the way up to his bottom lip.

It’s wet, and hot, and Sirius tries to shrug it off with a pointed, “Ew, Prongs, what’s your deal,” as he pushes the other’s chest while he laughs, hand coming up to wipe his skin, but it’s not a particularly clever facade to hide just how ridiculously turned on he is.

James laughs, and Sirius laughs too, but the sound is cut short with a loud gasp when James’ hand drops down suddenly to cup his erection through the thin fabric of his pants.

“If you like it so much, maybe I should lick you somewhere else,” James says with a smirk, his tone partially joking, but Sirius can detect the note of self-consciousness in his voice where he says something as a joke only to give himself a way out in case it does not work out the way he hoped it would.

Sirius brings his hand down to rest it over James’ and gives a breathless nod, which is all the confirmation he needs to immediately spring into motion.

James hurriedly tugs on the waistband of his pants and pulls them down, then the next thing he sees and feels is stars in his eyes and James’ lips closing around his cock, warm and moist and sweet and gentle and hard and--

“Fuck.” Sirius grunts. “Oh-- Fuck, James. Yeah- Yeah, keep doing that.”

He has no idea how, but James somehow manages to fit the entire length in his mouth, not even gagging the slightest bit when the head of Sirius’ cock presses into the back of his throat. He sucks, and licks, and moans into him, and runs his tongue around the base in a way that leaves Sirius completely breathless. He throws his hands into James’ hair, fingers pulling on his messy curls to set the rhythm, and-- God, he does not think he will ever be able to use his hand again without missing the touch of James’ soft, warm mouth.

It does not take more than a few minutes for him to come, and when he feels the spill coming he tries to pull out, but James grabs his hips firmly and keeps him in place, moaning around him in a way that pushes Sirius over the edge even further, and he throws his head back, eyes shut, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes in ecstasy as he feels James swallow down every last drop of it.

“Holy shit.” He whispers when he finally finds his voice again, forcing his eyes open. He feels like he could fall asleep right then and there. When his vision comes back into focus, he finds James sitting down on the floor between his legs, grinning up at him a little shyly, his hair dishevelled and the glasses pushed far back on top of his head. “You have absolutely no gag reflex.”

James frowns and looks away with a light flush colouring his cheeks. Sirius wants to kiss him.

“Have you done this already?”

“What?” James’ head snaps back to look at him, scandalised. “Of course not. It’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like it.”

Something warm spreads through Sirius’ chest at the thought. Whatever this might or might not lead to, he will always have this - this first.

“Well, for a first time it was bloody brilliant.” He admits, sagging back against the lockers behind him.

James’ eyes shine with a proud, golden glint in them. “I’m just amazing like that, I guess.”

-

The biggest thing Sirius is afraid of in the beginning is that it will change how comfortable and natural things have always been between them.

But the evening of the same day, James climbs into his bed, all yawning and blinking sleepily in the most adorable way that makes Sirius laugh and reach out to ruffle his hair, and he just flops down on his side next to him and settles into a comfortable position to sleep.

Sirius shifts closer, his chest almost pressing to James’ back. He wants to throw his arms around the other and pull him closer like they usually do, but his mind is still quietly freaking out over the incident in the locker rooms, and for a second, he hesitates.

James just throws his arm back, feeling around until his fingers close around Sirius’ hand, and he pulls it over his own waist, pulling Sirius tighter around him.

“Hug me.” He demands, his voice a low, sleepy mumble despite the fierceness of the command, and all Sirius can do is smile.

Smile because he knows now that even if things don’t work out, they can always have this.

So he does - hugs James, pulling him close against his chest, and tucks his face into the other’s neck from behind.

Sleep has never felt sweeter.

-

After that, they fall into some kind of routine.

They never talk about it, or set any ground rules, but James always finds him.

They never go all the way, because that would imply something Sirius does not want to think about, but beyond that, they do almost everything else there is to.

Sometimes James falls asleep in Sirius’ bed, the curtains tight and private around them. When Sirius wakes up, he can feel James pressing into him from behind, an arm draped around his waist, already painfully hard. When he feels Sirius stir awake and press back against him, he pulls both their boxers down and reaches a hand over to squeeze Sirius’ cock tightly in his hand, while his own is rubbing between his ass cheeks hungrily.

Sirius almost loses it and asks him to just put it in and fuck him.

But that’s not what they do - they are just fooling around, James is saving himself for Evans, Sirius knows that - so he bites his lip and keeps whispering James’ name over and over like a prayer. When he’s alone later that night and rebuilds the scene in his head, he can shut his eyes and imagine that James’ thick cock is coming inside him, not all over the sheets.

They never kiss.

James kisses his cheeks, and kisses his face, and kisses his hands, plants tender kisses on the top of his head when he approaches him sitting from behind, pecks his closed eyelashes when Sirius is lying in bed, laughing with his eyes shut, and sometimes he takes his hand gently and presses a kiss to his bruised knuckles while holding his gaze in a way that makes Sirius’ guts turn upside down, but it’s never his lips, never the only place on his body that Sirius wants to devour so much it physically hurts.

He plays with Sirius’ hair, and interwines their fingers together, falls asleep on his shoulder, or in his lap; hugs him from behind, hugs him from the front, hugs him from the side; he gives Sirius more love than he could have ever imagined being out there in the world, but it’s always in public, always with other people around them, always a reminder that all he will ever be is James Potter’s best friend.

Sirius has never paid too close attention to the way James touches him. Until sixth year, that is, when he moved to live with the Potters, and the new kind of intimacy of crawling into James’ bed at night when he was having a particularly rough night, now that they were actually living together (not just in the dorms with other people, not just a sleepover for a few days, actually living together with James, getting to see his bed head in the morning, making breakfast together), suddenly felt a little too much, in the scariest way possible.

It was that summer that Sirius started realising the feelings he has for his best friend might go a little beyond the usual accepted norm.

One time when they’re in the bathroom, grinding against each other with the urgency and desperation of two people who have not seen each other for a year, it almost happens.

Sirius’ hands are on James’ length, teasing, playing, smirking at him in satisfaction - by now he is pretty sure there is no person in the world who knows how his body works better than Sirius; what strings to pull, what spots to touch, at what pace exactly, for James to whine, and whimper, and beg. James snaps; he growls lowly at the back of his throat, grabs Sirius’ hips in a way that makes the breath hitch in his throat, and hoists him up on the counter of the sink behind them.

He presses their lengths together, squeezing them in his fist, and his sweaty forehead comes to rest against Sirius’. His eyes are shut, but Sirius’ remain open as he stares, stares although he does not need to see with the way he can feel the hot breath coming out of his mouth against his own lips.

James is so impossibly close, pushing closer, almost like he is about to kiss him. Like he is waiting for Sirius to close the distance.

Sirius almost does.

He jerks his head away at the very last second, and prays that James did not notice his slip-up.

They finish shortly after, and once he cleans up the mess behind them with his wand, James quickly pulls his robes back on and leaves.

He has moments like this, Sirius notes, when he reacts a little harshly, or seems to withdraw into himself abruptly, but it always passes, and the next day he always wakes up fresh and fully charged, ready to start off the day.

It’s a little strange, how James seems to be more openly intimate with him when there are other people around them, rather than when they are alone. When it’s just the two of them, he seems a little hesitant at times, uncharacteristically shy as he double checks with Sirius before every move he makes, eyes glancing up as if to ask silently ‘hey, is this okay?’ before he keeps going.

When they are in company of other people, none of that shyness is present; James does not pause to double check with anybody when he jumps on Sirius from behind to tackle him in a hug, or shoos away several first-years to make space for them on the sofa so they can cuddle across from the fireplace in the common room.

“Get a room, you two.” McKinnon tells them with a grimace as she passes by them. James is lying next to him, pressed to his side with his head on Sirius’ chest, and his hand is playing with the rings on Sirius’ fingers, twisting them around absentmindedly. Sirius’ arm is tucked behind his head and his other hand is in James’ hair, fingers running through the soft, messy locks gently.

“Sod off.” Sirius tells her and pulls his hand from James’ head to flip her off.

“Don’t mind her.” James shifts and glances up from Sirius’ chest, grinning up at him playfully. “She’s just jealous I get to do this.”

Sirius glances down at him. He would let James do absolutely anything. He wonders if he knows that.

McKinnon snorts. “You’re delusional, Potter. Just because you are obsessed with Sirius Black, doesn’t mean we all are.”

Overall, things go pretty well. Sirius can ignore the stinging desire of something more, push it away, bury it down, he can manage with whatever he gets. 

That year, the seventh year of school is their best, and so is the summer following it. Sirius will never forget those quiet, warm moments of lying on the grass by the river next to the Potters’ estate, clothes and hair already half dry from the strong rays of the sun above them.

James has his eyes closed gently, the longer strands of hair around his forehead moved by the wind, and under the sunlight kissing his skin, he is absolutely glowing. He looks perfect.

Sirius wants to be the sunrays, wants to be the one kissing James’ skin and his lips.

He feels like if he does not do it he might suffocate and choke on his desire, so he shifts into Padfoot after making sure nobody is around to see them. James laughs when he feels the dog’s wet paws on his chest, eyes flying open to greet him and hands coming up to ruffle his fur.

Padfoot licks him all over his face, his lips, his nose, his cheeks, his eyelashes, all the places and spots his body is aching to touch, and James just smiles up at him, so so happy and so so bright, glowing like the sun itself.

In sixth year, when he left the house he lived in for his home, Sirius had thought there would never be a summer happier than that. But this one is better.

-

Then James and Lily get together, and it all stops.

“She asked me out on a date.” James tells him over Quidditch practice, like Sirius does not already know it, like the whole damn House does not already know it.

Sirius grunts and stretches on the grass, trying to reach the toe of his shoes with his fingers. He can feel James’ eyes on him. He is watching him, has been watching him for a while - since yesterday, actually, since Lily did it. Like he is waiting for him to comment on it, waiting for him to say something.

What can Sirius say, really?

Don’t go? Don’t agree?

Date me instead?

“Well, good for you.”

James blinks, having the audacity to look surprised. “You think I should agree?”

“I don’t fucking think anything, Prongs, okay?” Sirius straightens up with a sigh. “Leave me out of this.”

James jolts up to his feet, clutching the body of the broom tightly between his fingers. His eye is twitching and his brows are pulled together in a frown as he glares down at him, spluttering nonsense until he finally finds his voice. “Why are you being such a dick about it? Is this really all a joke to you?”

A joke? Sirius feels his ears ringing. After all of this, James dares ask him if for him it’s all a joke, like James isn’t the one who is asking him whether he should agree to a date with Lily bloody Evans after over a year and a half of sucking his dick.

He wants to say that, wants to ask James what’s up with that, but there are people around them on the training pitch, and it’s not exactly like they are thrilled to walk around the castle, advertising the particular nature of their relationship.

“You’ve been eating my brains out about Lily bloody Evans for seven years,” he exclaims, jumping up to his feet to match James, “I couldn’t care less. Do whatever you want.”

Hurt flashes across James’ face, then his expression closes off and he frowns.

“Fine.” He says.

And so he does.

-

They graduate at the end of the year, and James and Lily get their own flat in London, not very far away from where Sirius rents his own place.

James and Sirius both get offers to join the Pro League upon graduating with top marks, as well as an offer from the Aurors Program, and several institutes abroad across Europe.

“Aurors Program?” James scrunches his nose as he stares at the letter.

“It’s a good choice.” Lily’s voice comes from the kitchen. She walks into the living room and sits down on the chair next to James, holding a mug of coffee in her hands. “It’s a secure job, guaranteed pay, early retirement.” She looks over at Sirius and gestures at his own letter with a nod of her head. “You should consider it too.”

James glances up to look at Sirius. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” Sirius crumbles up the parchment roll in his hand and throws it at the wall behind James’ head, then looks over to meet his gaze, “Quidditch.”

James’ lips break out in a grin. “Same.”

-

James gets offers from the Arrows and the Magpies, and Sirius from the Arrows and the Cannons. James seems to be convinced that they have both reached a silent agreement to accept the Arrows’ offer, and at first Sirius does too, but then he thinks about having to watch James pull Lily close by the waist and kiss her on the mouth each time she will visit him at the field, something bitter and cruel turns over in his stomach.

At the very last moment, when his quill is hovering above the letter, ink threatening to drip, he changes his decision.

“You what?!” James yells at him when he tells him, eyes wide with hurt and betrayal. “I thought we agreed we’re doing it together!”

“ You agreed, I never agreed to anything.” Sirius points out with a frown.

James flops down on the chair across from him, shoulders sagged in defeat. “Why?” He asks, and now he does not sound angry anymore, just sad. It’s breaking Sirius’ heart.

“They offered a better salary.” He says with a shrug. “And it’s closer to my flat. I don’t want to use Floo each time, this way I can just apparate.”

James leans back in his chair, arms crossed and brows furrowed in concentration. He does not bring it up anymore that day, or throughout the entire week. Sirius thinks that they are done at that, until two weeks later James appears through the Floo of his flat uninvited, grinning from ear to ear, waving a roll of parchment in his hand.

“I got it.” He announces and slaps the letter on the table in front of him.

Sirius furrows his brows. “What is it?”

“It’s a two years contract,” James leans on the table with his elbows, smirking widely, “with the fucking Cannons, you enormous, selfish douchebag. Signed and everything.”

Sirius sighs. If James had really gone through all the trouble of talking to Longbottom, talking to Misses Hooch, getting everyone he knows to write an embarrassingly long recommendation letter and even getting his parents’ (of whom James never, ever asked for anything) to pull some strings only to get on the same team as Sirius, then who is he to mess with faith, really?

-

It’s not all that bad, really.

He gets to see James everyday; they train together, play together, celebrate together when they win and sulk in a pub when they don’t. Jame’s presence is as firm and constant by his side as ever.

He has his own flat, and even though the entire reason he rented it was to have some space from James, Sirius somehow ends up spending most of his time at James and Lily’s place, whenever he isn’t at practice and isn’t asleep.

He shouldn’t feel this happy hearing them argue in the bedroom behind him as he sits in their living room, turning over a mug of tea in his hands while he waits for James to finish getting dressed. Sirius is a bad friend. He is very, very selfish and he is a very, very bad friend.

“I told you I’m sorry!” James is yelling. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“I don’t want you to make it up to me,” Lily yells back, her voice shaky and hurt, “I want you to prioritise me, like I do with you!”

“I do! It just-- it slipped my mind, okay? Me and Sirius had that thing with the--”

“You and Sirius.” Lily says dryly. “Of course. It’s always you and fucking Sirius Black. What about me, James?”

Sirius stills when he hears his own name. He tries not to eavesdrop, but it’s hard when they don’t even bother putting a silencing charm over their room.

“Let’s go, Pads.” James says when he storms out of the room. He pushes Sirius’ shoulder to gesture at him to get up, and heads for the door, not even bothering to grab a jacket or a coat to put over his thin jumper.

“What about Evans?”

James throws the door open. “Evans will get over it.” He says with a roll of his eyes.

He sulks, bottom lip pushed out in an endearing pout, brows furrowed together and arms crossed over his chest as they make their way down onto the street, and for a moment Sirius wonders if it’s a good idea to proceed with the plan when he is in a sour mood like this.

“You okay, Prongs?” He asks, elbowing him in the side lightly, and James just nods in return.

James is shivering; the weather in the evening is starting to get cold by the day in this month of the year, and the loose, thin orange jumper with the crest of the Cannons on it and nothing underneath can not possibly be doing the job of keeping him warm with the freezing wind around them.

“You’re going to catch a cold like this.” Sirius shrugs off his leather jacket (he’s got several layers underneath, he will be fine, really, not to mention that just being around James always makes him feel hotter than he usually does) and holds it out for the other. “Take it.”

James eyes him, eyes blinking with surprise and cheeks coloured pink from the frost biting his skin. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Come on.” Sirius shoves it at his chest, unwilling to take no for an answer, and walks ahead of him. James stands there for a moment longer, then follows him.

“Aren’t we going to Devon?” He asks when he notices Sirius make a turn right, into the alleyway.

“Yeah. But it won’t start until eight anyway.” Sirius replies as he makes his way over to the parking slot where he’s left the bike. “I wanted to give you a ride first.”

“A ride?” James echoes.

Sirius comes to a stop next to the bike, leaning against the wide backseat and turning around to grin at him proudly. He wants to say something more, but the sight of James wearing his jacket stops him in his tracks.

It’s not like they haven’t already been sharing clothes for almost nine years, since the very first weekend at Hogwarts when Sirius complained about all his clothes besides the uniform being too Slytherin-y to wear on a Sunday, and James immediately took it as an opportunity to gift him one of his red jumpers, which later annoyed the life out of his parents when he wore it at home.

But the jacket is personal, Sirius has had it for years (it’s the same jacket he was wearing the same day he ran away from home), refusing to throw it away due to the sentiment it held, with patches and pins of roses and skulls all over it. It used to be way too big on him when he first got it, but he insisted on keeping it that way even despite Effie’s relentless attempts to size it down.

James is just a few centimetres shorter than him now, so the sleeves are a little too long on him, coming to cover part of his palms, but he is also wider and more well-built in the shoulders and chest than Sirius, so it sits tightly around his musculed arms, hugging the biceps deliciously.

It looks fucking perfect on him.

James’ eyes widen when he sees the bike, the sour frown replaced by an excited glint instead, completely oblivious to the thoughts circling around Sirius’ mind as he watches him.

“You fixed it!” He exclaims. “Did you charm it? How fast does it go? Can it fly?” He asks, almost jumping in place, the questions spilling out of his mouth with a child-like insatiable kind of curiosity. It’s sweet; Sirius knows James isn’t really into muggle music and culture as much as him, but he always did take interest in every single one of his projects, like nobody else ever had in his life.

Sirius snaps out of his haze quickly and turns to grin at him. “Like a dove, baby.”

He kicks away the kickstand holding up the bike with his foot and hops onto it, leaning forward to make space for James on the backseat. James places a hand on his shoulder to balance himself as he throws one leg over, shifting to get into a comfortable position behind him. His hand fumbles with the side of the seat until it finds the handle, and he grips it tightly and leans back with a nod.

“I’m ready.”

Sirius glances back over his shoulder at him. “You should hold onto me so you don’t fall off.”

“I won’t.” James retorts stubbornly.

Sirius turns back forward, biting back a smirk. He sets off the engine and gives the throttle grip a quick tug, only to send them forward about half a metre, but the motion is sudden and sharp enough to startle James as he’s pushed back with the force of the movement, and his arms instinctively reach out to grip Sirius’ shoulders from behind.

“Bastard.” He grunts into his ear. “You did that on purpose.”

Sirius glances back to give him a smirk. “Told you.”

James huffs, but he does not argue further, his arms coming around Sirius’ waist to hold onto him firmly, chest pressed against back. He tucks his nose into the crook of Sirius’ neck from behind, glancing over his shoulder at the road ahead. Sirius tries very hard to focus on the road, and not the other’s warm breath against the nape of his neck, and the tight grip of his hands around his waist.

Once he’s picked up the speed, he turns on the invisibility mechanism and pushes off the ground, the engine of the bike roaring loudly as they soar up into the night sky.

“Wow.” James whispers in amazement into his ear, and Sirius tears his gaze away from the wheel to glance down at the sight underneath them as well.

From up above, London looks so small, a collection of dots of light like a constellation in the sky. It’s the main reason why Sirius loves flying - how small and insignificant everything looks from up high.

And just them, up here, just the two of them.

The only thing that matters.

-

“So, you got that teaching position?” Sirius asks. Remus nods in reply and Sirius grins, reaching over to slap him on the shoulder. “Moony, that’s amazing!”

They are sitting in the kitchen of James and Lily’s flat, while the two in question are preparing their baggage for a trip to Lily’s family.

“If we’re really staying there for the weekend, I wanna take my broom.” James grumbles.

“Then shrink it, it won’t fit.”

“No, I told you it ruins the texture.” James retorts with a click of his tongue.

Lily presses her lips into a thin line and shuts the book in her hands, moving to place it in the open briefcase on the sofa. “Then you can’t take it.”

“You’re the one who insisted we drive there instead of just apparating because of your sister.” James argues in return, “so at least let me take it.”

“It will never fit, it’s too big.” Lily says, and Sirius sees by the look in her eyes that she realises her mistake the moment the words are out of her mouth.

James and Sirius exchange a knowing glance.

“That’s what she said.” They say in unison and break into a fit of giggles.

Lily rolls her eyes. Remus flips over a page in his paper and reaches for another piece of toast.

“I can’t believe I live in an actual kindergarten.” She says and heads back into their bedroom to get James’ suitcase.

“You need to find yourself a decent man, Evans.” Sirius calls after her teasingly, despite the pointed ‘oi’ and the kick he gets under the table from James. “Someone like Moony.”

Remus stops in the middle of a bite and raises an eyebrow at him.

“That’s a compliment.” Sirius clarifies.

“Why does it not feel like one, coming from you.” Remus mumbles and goes back to his paper.

Lily sighs as she makes her way back into the room and places the briefcase in a standing position by the table. “If I haven’t been thinking about it myself..” she mutters. She looks over at Remus and tilts her head to the side. “Want to come meet my parents instead and tell them you’re James? They will like you.”

Remus shakes his head quickly.

Sirius laughs at the scandalised expression on James’ face.

“I would take you to meet my parents,” Sirius says as he reaches over to ruffle his hair, “but I’m afraid they won’t like you much either.”

Lily laughs loudly at that, and James kicks him under the table one more time.

-

Seven months into their first season with the Cannons, James shows up at his doorstep in the middle of the night with only a suitcase and his wand in hand.

“We broke up.” He says dryly. “Can I crash here for a few nights?”

Sirius blinks at him sleepily, the words echoing in his head over and over. James is wearing nothing but a light jumper with no robes or a coat, and he’s shivering a little from the cold wind around him.

And who the hell is Sirius Black to tell him no?

-

“So I hexed him.”

Peter sputters out his beer, laughing. Remus raises an unimpressed brow.

“Why would you do that?”

“No way! What did you do?”

Sirius listens to them talk from the kitchen while he prepares a tray with drinks and snacks for his friends. He has already heard this story multiple times; actually, that’s the only thing James has been talking about the past week.

It was Lily Lily Lily, something about her stupid sister, something about her stupid sister’s stupid boyfriend, more Lily Lily Lily, something about how stupid muggle cars are, then more word vomit about Lily.

“Isn’t it considered a breach of the Statute?” Remus asks sceptically.

James shrugs. “They already know about Lily, so.”

Lily.

Sirius slams the tray on the table between them and gives them all a wide, tight smile that does not reach his eyes.

“How about we talk about something else for a change?”

-

A few nights quickly turn into a few weeks, and soon enough there are two toothbrushes in his cup by the bathroom mirror, several bottles of shampoo and gel that James uses to tame his wild curls before flying, the guest room has turned into James’ bedroom, and half of Sirius’ shirts are missing.

“I honestly expected them to be back together by now.” Peter says absentmindedly as he swirls a spoon in his cup. “She obviously likes him, I really don’t get it.”

“I don’t think that’s the issue here.” Remus mumbles. He does not clarify what the issue is, and Sirius does not ask. He is tired of talking about Lily. He is pretty sure that the next person to talk to him about Lily will get a plate broken over their head (unless it’s James, James can talk to him about Lily as much as he wants, and Sirius is helpless to do anything about that).

-

A couple of weeks into James’ stay, it happens again.

Sirius comes out of the shower, with a towel loosely draped around his hips, to find James lying on his bed with a magazine in his hands.

“You heard about Kalin Kolev?” He asks, flipping through the paper.

Sirius comes over to his closet and pulls out a pair of boxers and a shirt. “What about him?” He unties the blanket around his waist, letting it drop to the floor. He does not give it much thought - James sees him naked all the time in the shower rooms after practice, there shouldn’t be anything weird about it just because they are alone at home. He finishes putting on his boxers and is about to pull on the shirt as well when he realises James has suddenly gone very quiet.

He turns around to find the other staring, the magazine abandoned by his side.

“Ah.” James blinks, snapping out of the haze he seemed to be in. “He, uh.. Signed a contract with the Wasps, he’s coming to the UK next year. To play for the British League.”

“Are you shitting me?” Sirius turns to face him fully. “We might get to play Kalin sodding Kolev next season?”

But James does not answer. His eyes are fixated on Sirius, but his brows are furrowed in thought, like he’s staring through him.

“Where did you get this?” James tugs on the collar of his own shirt, gesturing at his collarbone.

Sirius glances down at himself. “Ah. Almost got hit by a bludger this morning.” He says and waves his hand dismissively in the air. “Nothing serious, don’t worry about it.”

He moves to put the shirt on so James stops staring at the bruise on his skin, suddenly feeling a little conscious, but before he has a chance to, James stands up abruptly and walks over to grab his wrist, stopping his arms in place.

James’ hand comes up to cup his cheek, brushing his thumb against his skin, then it travels down to his collarbone, gently rubbing around the skin of the purple bruise.

Sirius wonders if he’s the only one who feels like it’s incredibly hot around them all of a sudden. He wonders if James can see him starting to get hard through the thin layer of his boxers.

James steps closer all of a sudden and presses a kiss to his temple, cradling the back of his head with his other hand, then trails a wet line down to his jaw, licking, nibbing at the sensitive skin with his teeth, before proceeding lower, where the bruise below the collarbone is.

Sirius stumbles backwards, hitting the wooden door of the closet with his bare back. His body is reacting to James’ overly familiar touch like gasoline to fire.

Then James lowers himself to his knees and tugs on the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. Sirius’ now fully erect cock springs out quickly, bouncing, and Sirius groans, throwing his head back.

He should tell him to stop. He should push him away. He should turn around and leave.

He should apply logic instead of hormones, he is not a seventeen years old teenager anymore, and while last time hasn’t ruined their friendship like he’s feared, it did nothing to soothe his heartache once he’s learned what James’ hands on his body could feel like, and then lost it.

He is going to lose him again, he is going to get hurt, and he should put an end to it before it has the chance to begin at all.

“James, please,” he whispers instead, hands going down to pull on James’ hair, pulling him closer, “touch me.”

James grasps his hips firmly and turns him around, pushing him back onto the bed. He places his hands on Sirius’ thighs and spreads them wider, positioning himself between his legs by the edge of the bed.

“Did you miss me?” He asks, whispering around the base of Sirius’ throbbing erection, lowering his head so close he can almost feel his lips touch him.

Sirius lets out a pitiful whine, glancing down at him as he props himself up on his elbows.

James does not take it in his mouth straight away, he pushes himself up a little and takes Sirius’ cock in his hand, squeezing it between his fingers while rubbing his thumb over the head. Sirius whimpers and throws his head back, his elbows giving up underneath him as he drops back onto the mattress.

He shuts his eyes, and only opens them back up again when he feels James’ other hand come up to his face. James pushes two fingers against his lips and Sirius opens his mouth obediently, letting them through.

He does not really understand what James is doing, but his mind is too clouded and hectic to ask, and it does not make sense until James’ wet finger suddenly presses against his entrance. Sirius’ breath hitches in his throat.

“Is this okay?” James murmurs softly, pausing before he proceeds to look up, checking his reaction.

Sirius does not trust himself enough to speak, so he just nods aggressively in agreement and pushes his hips against the pressure of James’ fingers.

When one finger is inside him, Sirius’ heartbeat picks up. When a second one joins it tentatively, he arches his back and shuts his eyes, trying to suppress the moans spilling past his lips. If James does not start moving now , he might actually start crying.

James pulls his fingers almost all the way out, then thrusts them back in. He curls the tips of his fingers when he’s inside again, and Sirius almost stops breathing altogether.

Sirius buckles his hips, pushes against the pressure, fucking himself against James’ fingers while the other’s hand strokes his cock, already slick with dripping pre-cum.

He probably seems desperate, like he hasn’t had sex in months, but that’s not even it - he does not ever react like this to anybody else, not even to his own touch. But one James Fleamont Potter seems to just hold that kind of power over him.

He should be embarrassed, acting so desperate and pathetic, but James doesn’t seem to think so as he keeps stroking his fingers up and down his cock, whispering word after word of soft encouragement.

“You’re beautiful. Merlin, Sirius, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.”

It’s all too easy to believe him when he says it like that.

James keeps his hands in place, with a pace fast enough to make him writh but not too fast to make him come already, and leans forward, pushing himself up.

Sirius opens his eyes when he feels James’ breath against the skin of his face.

They are too close, dangerously close.

His heart skips a beat when he realises James is about to kiss him.

This already hurts enough. This is humiliating enough, being James’ temporary rebound while he sulks around and thinks of a plan to get Lily back. It’s embarrassing enough to let him see him fall apart like this in private, then go and gush about her in front of other people.

If James kisses him now, he might actually, irreparably fall apart.

“No kissing.” Sirius blurts out.

James stops, his hand freezing mid motion. He blinks at him, eyes big and confused.

He looks hurt.

Or maybe Sirius’ mind made that up, because the look is gone from his face in an instant, and the fingers are gone too; instead James is sinking back down to his knees, hands holding Sirius’ hips in place as he licks up the base of his cock and takes it in his mouth.

When his head hits the back of James’ throat, all other thoughts are gone from his mind.

“Yes”, “please” and “harder” are the only things he can manage between gasps of air. James truly has no gag reflex, he recalls as he grips the other’s hair, thrusting in and out of his mouth forcefully, but no matter how hard he pushes, James does not even come close to choking. It’s the only thing Sirius can focus on as he comes, groaning loudly as he feels James’ throat clench around him, working to swallow down every last drop.

He glances down, scared that he might have gone a little overboard this time, but James just leans back against his palms, slides the glasses back up his nose and flashes him a bashful grin.

Sirius wants to kiss the life out of him.

“God, Prongs.” Sirius scrubs a hand over his face and drops back onto his back. He suddenly feels incredibly exhausted.

He thinks James will join him on the bed so he can get him off in return as well, and then they could get some blissfull post-sex sleep, but James bolts up to his feet suddenly and grabs his jacket from the back of his chair.

“I gotta go, I promised Pete to help him out with something.”

Sirius is left staring at the door.

-

Sirius tells himself he won’t let it happen again.

He will talk to James, tell him that it can’t keep going on like this, not when they live together-- or actually, no, without the last part, or God forbid James might take it wrong and move out, which is not Sirius’ intention at all.

For all of his complaining, he does love having him around. People often ask them if it does not get overbearing, seeing each other every day at home when they also see each other at work, but James and Sirius have always been like this, ever since they were eleven years old. He doesn’t think he could ever live without James as an unwavering constant in his life, with or without all the hardships it brought on.

So he promises himself that he will talk to him, but Sirius hasn’t been extremely good with keeping his promises lately.

-

Sirius wakes up hard in the morning.

It happens sometimes, not only when he has that kind of dreams, at times it just happens. Usually one quick wank in the shower and it’s gone, but with the memories of James going down on him still vivid from the night prior, it does not make things any easier for him.

For a moment, when he rolls over onto his back, eyes still shut, and his hand dives below the waistband of his pants, he forgets that he’s not alone anymore.

“Need a hand with that?”

James’ sudden voice startles him, and he’s instantly awake, hand pulling away, sitting up in his bed. James is leaned against the doorway of the bathroom, freshly showered and shirtless, hair still damp and the glasses missing from his face.

He doesn’t seem nearly as embarrassed as he crosses the room, quickly making his way over to Sirius’ bed, and crawls underneath the blankets with him.

James rolls onto his side and presses his bare chest, still damp from the shower, against Sirius’ back. One of his hands wraps around his chest to pull him closer, while the other slides below the waistband of Sirius’ briefs, fingers closing around his length.

“Want me to go down on you?” Sirius asks, twisting his head slightly backwards to glance at James. “Yesterday you left before--”

“No, no, I’ve got a better idea.”

It’s really like their bodies were created using the exact same materials and the same language, because they barely need any communication at all to know what the other wants and needs.

Sirius can feel James’ own cock quickly grow hard as he presses against him from behind, and the second he senses the fingers at his entrance again, Sirius immediately pushes against them, not giving James the opportunity to take his time with it this time.

“Sirius,” James’ breath is hot against his skin, lips brushing his earlobe as he whispers frantically in his ear, “can I…?”

Sirius just nods feverishly.

James’ fingers are gone suddenly, and Sirius lets out a pathetic whine, his hole clenching around nothing as it misses their presence, but then something harder and thicker is there instead, and the tip of James’ cock is pressing against his entrance, pushing in.

Sirius gasps, and whines, and whimpers, fingers clutching the sheets and teeth biting his lip in an attempt to keep himself from falling apart into an even bigger mess than he already is.

“Just do it already.” He gasps out. “Fuck me, James. Fuck me, please.”

He needs James’ entire cock inside him, now. He needs James to fuck him until he doesn’t remember his own name. He needs James to take him apart.

James pushes in slowly, carefully, and Sirius does not understand what for, letting the length in inch by inch like that, and after a moment of that he loses his patience and just pushes his ass back against him, until James is fully inside him, up to his groin.

They both groan loudly, James pushing his hips forward and Sirius pressing his ass back into him.

“You’re so tight.” James whispers into his ear. It sends shivers down his spine. “God, Sirius, baby, you’re so tight.”

James hands grip his hips tightly and he pushes him down. “Turn over.” He grunts into his ear from behind and rolls over so Sirius is now lying flat on his stomach, while James is on top of him, grinding into him, driving his cock all the way up his ass.

“Please.” Sirius whines, grateful that he can bury his face in the pillow now if he wants to, because the sounds leaving his mouth are absolutely ungodly. “Don’t hold back.”

It’s all the sign James needs. He places his hands on both his sides and pulls away, rising up until he is almost entirely out, only the very tip of his cock still inside. Then he slams back into hip abruptly, driving his entire length in at once in an angle that makes Sirius see stars.

“Yeah, there, right there- God, please don’t stop.”

James does that again, and again, until Sirius is almost sobbing with pleasure. James’ cock is strong and warm inside him, hitting all the right spots like his own fingers never could. Sirius does not even need to touch his own member to come this time, and as soon as he does, James moans loudly, and with one last thrust, comes inside him as well.

James collapses on top of him and slides a little to the side, half of his body still draped over him lazily. Sirius shifts his weight to one elbow, rolling over to the side as well so he can face the other. He reaches out a hand and brushes away the hair from James’ eyes, smiling when the other blinks at him sleepily.

“Was that… okay?” He murmurs softly.

Sirius can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, Prongs, that was more than okay.” He assures him, fingers brushing through the other’s hair gently. “That was bloody amazing.”

James gives him a familiar, lop-sided grin. “I’m just amazing like that, I guess.”

-

They fall back into their old patterns pretty quickly, except now they are older, with clearer likes and desires, and they have a whole goddamn flat to their own instead of the narrow, stinky dorm they had to share with two more people.

James does not shy away from him, and neither does Sirius - this time they both know exactly what they like and what they want, and they are adamant on getting it.

James presses him against the tiles of the shower, bends him over the kitchen table, fucks him on the counter, sucks him off in bed.

Sirius does not get to touch himself anymore (not that he’s complaining about that at all), and he does not need to either, because every time he’s in the shower, his mind wandering to uncharted territory, James is there to join him.

He pushes him against the wall of the shower, so hard his cock is standing upright, bouncing, without any help whatsoever. One of his hands wraps around Sirius’ throbbing erection, while the other one comes up to play with his nipples, matching the pace in a way that makes Sirius crumble.

He presses his member between his asscheeks, rubbing slowly until Sirius wants to cry with despair. “Please, James, please,” is the only thing he can manage until the other finally takes mercy on him and drives his length up his ass, slamming into him and pressing his entire body flat against the wall while he pushes in and out, shaking their bodies with each thrust.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispers against his skin, pressing kisses to the nape of his neck as Sirius comes into his hand. “Gorgeous.”

James always waits for him to come first to follow, filling his ass up with a low groan of pleasure like the only thing that could drive him over the edge is seeing Sirius reach that point first, and he always keeps it inside a little longer even after they’ve both gone soft, pressing kisses to his neck and stroking his chest with his hand.

Sirius is so grateful that James seems to almost exclusively fuck him from behind these days, because if he was facing him, he might have as well broken down and kissed him.

-

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re dating.”

Sirius’ head snaps up from where he is laying on the sofa in James’ lap, while the others fingers are playing with his hair.

“What do you mean?” He asks with a frown.

Peter shrugs and brings up his cup to take a sip. “Dunno, you just look very.. Domestic. More than ever.”

“Don’t listen to him, Padfoot,” James interjects quickly. He tugs on Sirius’ hair gently, pulling him back into his lap. “He’s just jealous because nobody likes him and he can’t grow facial hair.”

“Hey, rude.” Peter says pointedly when Sirius lets out a loud bark of laughter at that. “For the record, I’m the one in a stable, long-term relationship here, while you’ve been dumped by the only girl you spent half of your conscious life chasing.”

James makes a strangled noise at the back of his throat and smacks Sirius on the back of his head when he snorts.

“What?” Peter raises an eyebrow. “I’m right.”

“Hush, baby, don’t cry. He didn’t mean it.” Sirius says teasingly as he sits up to cup James’ face in his hands, who swats at his arm and pushes him away with a huff. “Seriously,” Sirius tugs him closer by the sleeve of his shirt and presses a kiss to his cheek, “don’t listen to the rat, girls just don’t understand and appreciate you like I do.”

James mumbles something under his breath, his bottom lip still pushed out in a pout, but he does let Sirius pull him closer into his side and rests his head on his shoulder.

Peter grimaces and looks away from them. “Anyway, I stand behind my original statement.”

-

They don’t always do things, sometimes when the both of them are too tired, or simply not in the mood, they just lay around in Sirius’ bed, or on the sofa in the living room, limbs intertwined with each other, bodies pressed together.

Sometimes they talk, sometimes they just lie there doing nothing. James likes resting his head against Sirius’ chest, listening to his heartbeat as he says, or when the position is reversed he plays with his hair gently, separating the locks one by one.

-

One day when they’re lying in bed after a particularly exhausting round of practice, James asks him.

“Have you- have you ever..” He stammers, stumbling over his words as he thinks while he talks, a little unsure. “After we stopped.. I mean, with other people?”

Sirius turns his head sideways and looks at him, wondering where it came from. “No.” He admits.

He has never had a problem dating, which maybe is a big part of the reason he does not really like to do it, knowing how accessible it is to him. The number of times girls (and even several guys) left their numbers for him at pubs, wizarding and muggle places both, he could not count even if he tried.

It’s not like he hasn’t considered it, but once they broke it off, after Lily and James started dating, there were so many things to do - the final exams, then the offers that came in, the contracts to be signed, the new season with the Cannons. He had talked to a few people, but he never got around to actually doing anything.

“Oh.” James says quietly. Then, “Yeah, me neither.”

Sirius blinks. He sits up, propping himself up on one elbow. “What do you mean, me neither? You and Lily never..”

“No, I mean. We did.” James says quickly. “But it doesn’t count. Right?”

Sirius stares at him for a long moment. “Doesn’t count?” He echoes, struggling to repeat the words. “How the fuck does it not count?” By the expression on James’ face, he’s already realised he said the wrong thing, but it’s already tipped off a switch in Sirius’ head.

“James, just because this,” he gestures between them with his hand, “isn’t sex with a girl, doesn’t mean it’s not real sex.”

“I know!” James exclaims immediately, sitting up as well to match his position. “I know, that’s not- That’s not what I meant. I just..”

“What did you mean then? Or do you need to get fucked in the ass yourself to understand how real it is?”

“I’m not-- Can you stop, that’s not what I’m saying.” James averts his gaze, his cheeks suddenly taking on a deep shade of a red flush. “And I don’t have any problem with the- the other thing, just for the record.” He mumbles, in a much lower voice.

“The other thing?” It takes a second for the meaning to register in Sirius’ head. He blinks at him, then rolls over onto his stomach and tugs on James’ shirt, waiting for the other to meet his gaze before he asks, “do you want me to fuck you?” James blinks at him, his flush growing deeper. “Answer.”

“I- I just mean,” he pulls one hand from under the blanket to push the glasses up his nose, “it doesn’t always have to be.. You know.” He glances up at Sirius again. “Come on. You know.”

Oh, Sirius knows. James does not really have to speak for Sirius to know, it’s always been like this between them, but this time he is going to make James spell it out for him, just to see the other stammer and flush some more, because if he is being honest, he is really, really enjoying that.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t.” Sirius says innocently

“I’m just saying that..” James exhales, visibly frustrated at Sirius’ lack of cooperation. “I don’t mind that we switch.. sometimes.. if you want to, that is.” He averts his gaze, then looks back up to check with Sirius once the words are out of his system, guarded eyes watching for his reaction.

Sirius feels a smirk tug at his lips. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

He rolls on top of James, holding himself up on his elbows, and pulls the other’s glasses off, tossing them aside.

“But I wanna see you.” He whines with a pout.

“You won’t be able to see anything by the time I’m done with you.” Sirius growls at him, lowering his head to his ear, and bites down on James’ earlobe in a way that makes the other gasp and arch up into him.

They quickly get rid of their clothes, tossing them aside together with the blanket, their hands all over the place, touching each other.

It’s a dangerous position, Sirius thinks, with James like this underneath him. They don’t usually directly face each other when they do it, and he isn’t sure if he will be able to keep his cool and remain in control if he has to stare at James’ full, inviting lips the entire time.

The same mouth that opens up in a loud gasp when the first of Sirius’ fingers enters him.

“Mhmm, you stretch so nicely.” Sirius hums, lowering his head to press his mouth against the other’s ear. “Have you ever fingered yourself before?” He takes it slow, pushing a second finger in bit by bit, enjoying the needy whine James lets out as he reaches out to tug on his arm, urging him to go faster.

Sirius’ own erection is pulsing, absolutely begging for attention, but that will have to wait, because James simply looks so beautiful, panting underneath him like that, and he reacts to his words so, so well.

“Hmm? Tell me. Do you touch yourself there?” Sirius murmurs, and the shudder that goes through James’ body at that reflects in his body as well, going down straight to his cock. “Do you imagine that your fingers are my cock? Do you think about me fucking you until you scream my name, when you’re alone? Do you, James?”

“Stop fucking teasing me.” James grunts through gritted teeth, pushing his hips restlessly against Sirius’ hand. “Just do it already, you dick.”

Sirius smirks at him. “Do what?”

“Fuck me.”

He has another teasing comeback right at the tip of his tongue, but the words are too much for his body to take, if he goes on any longer like this he might actually come before they even get to do anything.

James shuts his eyes, head pushing back into the pillow, while the rest of his body arches up when Sirius finally pushes into him. He goes in slowly at first, enjoying the way James clenches around him, then the other grabs his wrist, whispering “please, Sirius”, his voice completely broken, pleading, and Sirius loses any remaining bit of self-control that he had left and slams the rest of the length into him.

“Oh-- Fuck. Yeah, Sirius, right there. Please.”

It’s pure ecstasy, thrust after thrust, to the point he can not tell anymore where his own body ends and where James’ body begins; they feel like two parts of a whole, like it was always meant to be.

Fuck it, Sirius thinks at some point, watching James writh and moan, fingers clutching the sheets by his side, if driving his entire cock up his friend’s ass and coming inside him hasn’t ruined their friendship up until now, then what could one small kiss possibly do?

He leans down, panting and breathless, and once his mouth is so close to the other’s he can feel him breath, James’ eyes open and he jerks his head away quickly.

Sirius ignores the painful clench of his heart, the disappointed throb in his chest, and buries his face in the crook of James’ neck instead, biting down on his skin there, like that’s the thing he’s intended to do from the very beginning.

“That was good.” James rasps out, breathless, after they’ve both come so loudly Sirius thinks they might have broken the silencing charm around the room that he put up for the sake of his neighbours, and Sirius has rolled off him lazily, dropping to lie on his back by his side.

“Only good?” Sirius grabs a pillow and smacks James’ chest with it halfheartedly. “Just admit it was the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, you bastard.”

James laughs, but he does not deny it.

-

James clicks his tongue, brows furrowed in an expression of genuine concern as he watches Sirius, slightly leaned over with both hands on his hips.

“You have to stop doing that.”

“I’m not doing that on purpose, you know.”

“Yeah, well, you have to be more careful.”

“I’m a beater,” Sirius retorts, “my job implies getting hurt so you are free to score.”

“Your job implies getting danger away from the both of us,” James says pointedly, “not getting hurt. Not a single goal is worth it if you have to get hurt in the process.”

Sirius shrugs and looks away. “I don’t know, I think it was pretty worth it.”

They are in the dressing rooms, which are almost empty by now. It’s an important win they reached, after Sirius almost knocked the rival team’s seeker off the broom with a bludger to give their own an entry to catch the snitch, but it’s only another game in a very long season, so it’s no reason to relax. They will celebrate when they are holding the first place trophy in their hands at the end of the season.

James sighs and lets his arms drop to his sides. “If you won’t go to the Infirmary, at least let me treat it.”

Sirius pulls the soaked piece of cloth away from his face and turns to check his reflection in the mirror. The cut on the bridge of his nose looks a little raw, but it’s stopped bleeding now, and with a few simple home spells it will be gone in no time by tomorrow. There is a similar cut above his left eyebrow where he hit the stands when he was pushed aside, but it’s smaller and only a little red, already starting to dry up.

“It does hurt a little.” He admits, a quiet confession that he would not dare utter around anyone but James, who he knows will not just never judge him for it, but will only hold him in higher regard for it.

“Aww, poor thing.” James cooes teasingly and tilts his head to the side. “Want me to kiss it better?”

Sirius pushes his chin up. “Please.”

James laughs but leans down nonetheless and presses a firm kiss to the bridge of his nose.

“I’ve got another one here.” Sirius says quickly, gesturing at his brow, before James has the time to pull away.

James chuckles, his lips quirked in a soft smile, and his mouth moves upward to kiss the spot above his left eyebrow, lips brushing against the bruise gently.

“I also have a scratch here.” Sirius blurts out before he can stop himself and taps a finger against his lips.

James’ smile falters for a second. He stays frozen mid motion, then the smile suddenly drops. He straightens up and turns in the direction of the exit. “God, you’re such a jerk sometimes.”

“What-” Sirius feels his stomach drop. “I was just joking-”

James turns around abruptly to glare at him, “You’re the one who came up with the no kissing rule, Sirius,” he hisses angrily, “now and back at Hogwarts--”

“What are you talking abo--”

“-and I’m really, really trying to respect that,” he goes on, “but you aren’t exactly making it any easier on me.”

Sirius remains seated, gaping at the door as James slams it shut behind him.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He manages at last, but he doubts James hears him.

-

“Where are you going?” James asks him in the evening when he grabs his jacket and keys from the counter and heads for the door, after an entire day of silent treatment that he’s been giving him (well, it’s not exactly an entire day since noon, but Sirius is going to count it as such).

“To a pub.” Sirius replies briefly.

“Without me?”

“Yeah, James, without you.” He snaps, turning to glare at him. “Because I’m a jerk who only makes things harder for you, apparently.”

“That’s not what I--” But Sirius doesn’t get to hear the rest of it, because he’s already shut the door behind him and apparated away.

-

Sirius feels like he’s starting to go insane, going over every single one of their interactions in his head frantically. He has never questioned or double guessed anything with James. He might actually go crazy if he doesn’t talk to someone about it.

So he tells Remus, who just so happens to be the first poor soul who stumbles into his flat, and who seems very strangely calm and not surprised in the slightest when Sirius tells him about the latest developments of his relationship with James.

“So, wait, just.. Let me get this straight.” Remus sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, looking tired. “You live together. You spend most of your time together doing things you like. You cook for each other, sleep in the same bed more often than not, go out every weekend. And you also have sex.”

“Occasionally.” Sirius puts in, although the ‘more often than not’ could be attributed to the sex part as well.

“Sirius.” Remus folds his hands together and looks at him for a very, very long moment. “You are in a relationship.”

Sirius frowns. “No, we’re not.”

Remus gives him an unimpressed look. “That is the definition of a relationship.”

“It’s not! I mean, we’re just- It’s-- Ugh.” Sirius grimaces and looks away. He wishes things were as simple as that. “James is in love with Lily.”

Remus sputters, momentarily at a loss of words, which is a rare look on him. “If James is in love with Lily, then why in the world would he live and- pardon my language- have sex with you?”

Sirius blinks at him. It’s a good question. He would like to ask James the same thing. He would like to shake him violently and yell at him hey if we already live together, and the sex is good, why not just date me?

“Because… I’m his best friend.”

Remus watches him silently for a solid minute before he gets up and turns to the kitchen counter to pour himself another mug of black coffee.

-

The next day, when he gets back home from practice, the flat is empty. He does not think much of it at first, but an hour passes, and then three, and five, and soon enough it is two in the morning, James is yet to show up, and Sirius is starting to drive himself up the walls with worry.

He is about to grab his coat and leave to search for him, when the door suddenly opens, and James appears in the doorway, swaying slightly and very clearly drunk.

“Where the fuck were you?” He yells, throwing the bike’s keys in his hand onto the table.

“At a pub,” James slurs, vision unfocused and cheeks flushed as he stumbles inside and flops down on the sofa, “without you.”

Sirius feels his eye twitch.

He does not bother yelling at James at the state he is, he simply grabs a jacket from the rack by the door and apparates away.

He only realises later that in his anger, he’s miscalculated the apparition coordinates, and ended up almost on the opposite end of London, but it is too late now to back down from his wounded pride, so he tucks his hands in the pockets of his jacket and stalks forward, walking inside the first open muggle pub he can lay his eyes on.

He usually does not get into fights at public places, or any places at all, not anymore. He is not a hormonal teenager who feels the need to swing his fists and pull out his tongue on anybody who dares look wrong his and his friends’ way; he knows when it’s wise to shut his mouth and ignore the comments, he knows when his silence is more of an offence than any clever remark he could throw their way.

But tonight specifically he is frustrated, and angry, and upset; and so it really should come as no surprise that the first random drunk who falls on him, gets to feel his wrath. He latches onto the comment and channels his anger into that.

He is several good drinks in, and his mind is too clouded, so he misses the aspect where it’s a muggle pub, so he can’t actually use his magic in it, or just apparate away, and the next thing he knows, two guards drag him out of the building and throw him behind the bars of a local police station.

Sirius is not really worried, James and himself have found themselves in much worse situations. He stretches across the hard wooden bench of the cell and tucks his arms behind his head.

There are cameras around the place, he notes, so he can’t just apparate away without risking a breach of the Statue of Secrecy and drawing unnecessary attention to himself, which he really should not be doing, especially not during his very first season at the Pro League. So he rolls onto his side and falls asleep; he has a whole night of restlessness to make up for, after all.

“You’ve got one call.” One of the policemen, a bald man with a big belly tells him as he makes his way over to the cell lazily and hands him a muggle phone once he is awake again, and visibly much more sober than he’s been when they brought him in.

He could dial the two-way mirror, or the Floo at his flat - his wand is still on him and they probably won’t notice if he whispers a few spells at the phone. James would answer him, even if he’s asleep, he always does.

But he does not want to call James, not after the other has disappeared on him like that without letting him know where he’s going, so Sirius dials Remus instead. It already seems to be noon either way, judging by the light pouring from outside, so he should be awake.

“Sirius?” Remus’ voice sounds on the other end when he picks up. “Is this a muggle landline? Where are you?”

Sirius huffs and flops back down onto the bench. “Long story, I’ll tell you later. Can you come bail me out?”

“Bail you- What happened?” There is a rustling noise, several muffled voices that clearly don’t belong to Remus in the background.

“Where is he?” Someone asks.

At first, Sirius thinks he is imagining it.

“Is that James?” He asks. “What is he doing there?”

“Ask Black where the fuck he is, right now.” James’ angry snarl sounds, getting increasingly close as he talks.

Black.

Sirius feels his stomach drop.

He called him Black; James hasn’t called him Black in ages, he must be really mad at him.

Remus is asking him something, about the address, and the name of the station, but the second Sirius hears James approaching the phone, he hangs up.

Well, there goes his one call.

He goes back to sleep after that - they have the next two days off either way before they have to get back to their training routine and start preparing for their next game. It’s nothing but a sodding, shitty muggle police station - nobody knows him, and nobody has to know about it. He will sleep it off, and if nobody shows up they will have no choice but to let him go.

Sirius is not an expert on muggle law, but he knows that there is a certain limit to how long they can keep him in there over something as trivial as a fight in a pub.

He wakes up to the sound of the door unlocking, but the person standing there is the last he would expect to see in this situation.

“Lily?” He exclaims, loudly, blinking fast to make sure his eyes are not playing tricks on him. They are not; it is not just some short, redhead muggle police officer, it is, in fact, Lily Evans in all her glory.

Lily lets out a deep sigh and turns around to head for the counter. She places a few bills of muggle money, signs some papers while Sirius waits for her at the lobby, and after a few minutes they are free to go.

“How did you find me?” He asks her once they are outside, on the street. It is already starting to get fairly dark again, he notes as they make their way down the alleyway slowly.

“I didn’t, James did.” She replies. She is watching the ground as they walk, hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans. “He’s gone through almost every police station in London until he found where you are.”

Sirius does not answer to that, he isn’t sure what he can say that won’t make him sound like a total arsehole or a bad friend. He had his reasons, but Lily isn’t the right person to start pouring his heart out to about his ridiculous feelings for her ex.

“He asked Remus to go get you,” she goes on, “but he had an urgent work thing, so Remus called me.”

She pauses abruptly and turns to look at him. “I think we should talk.” She says firmly, in a voice that indicates that it’s more of an order than a suggestion. “Hungry?” She gestures with a nod of her head at a small cafe behind them, and Sirius reluctantly agrees.

He hasn’t really realised how hungry he actually is until Lily forcefully drags him into the cafe and makes him eat. She only orders a large coffee with cream for herself, and keeps watching him silently while he eats, until the awkwardness of her stare on him becomes stronger than his slowly dying hunger, and Sirius drops the fork down with a clatter and leans back in his seat.

“You know, James is a jerk,” he starts off, because that’s a first, “but he’s a really good guy.” He has been imagining this conversation, the one he would have with Lily if he ran into her, over and over in his head, but now that she was actually sitting in front of him, he found that it was going like nothing he had planned. “He is sweet, and caring, and he would turn the world upside down for the people he cares about.” Sirius glances down at his fingers, playing with the folded napkin between them.

“I know it’s none of my business, but.. He’s miserable, sulking, you know, because of you.” He glances up at Lily for a moment, then averts his gaze again to the window by their side. “He thinks I don’t notice, but I do. Maybe that’s why he’s been so moody lately.” Sirius bites on his lip for a moment, thinking. Where was he going with this again? He’s been talking for a while and Lily hasn’t even put in a word. “You should give him another chance. I know he can be a bit too much, but.. he’s truly the best person I know.”

Lily watches him with her big, green eyes, then once she makes sure he is done, she lets out a heavy sigh.

“He’s not miserable because of me, Sirius,” she says, her voice slow and careful, “he is because of you.”

Sirius’ brows pull together in a frown and his gaze immediately snaps back to her. “Excuse me?”

Lily raises a hand to rub at her temple. She looks tired. “Did James ever tell you why we really broke up?”

Sirius blinks. He did hear the story, the same one everyone else was told, a dozen versions of it at least. But he somehow has the feeling that Lily is not here to discuss her sister’s boyfriend and James’ poor impulse control with him.

“We broke up because of you.” Lily says firmly, holding his gaze. “He loved me, he truly did. He is sweet, and protective, and a true gentleman at times.” She smiles, a little sadly. “But he was never in love with me, Sirius. He was always in love with you.”

Sirius feels like all air has been punched out of his lungs. He blinks, again, rapidly, several times. It does not make sense. Then he laughs, a high-pitched, hysteric sound that’s nothing like his usual laughter, sounding foreign even to his own ears.

“No.” He denies quickly. “No, he’s not.”

Something in Lily’s gaze softens. She reaches over the table and places her hand over his. “You are all he ever talks about, you are all he ever thinks about. If the choice was between me and you, he would choose you in an instant. He would choose you over the entire world, Sirius, and don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same.”

Sirius’ throat feels very, very dry all of a sudden. There’s a ringing sensation in his ears.

“That’s.. That’s because we’re best friends.”

“Love,” Lily leans fully over the table, rising a little so she can cup his face between her hands. She waits for Sirius’ eyes to focus on hers. “Best friends don’t look at each other like that.”

-

James is in the living room, as to be expected, when Sirius gets back to their flat.

There is instant relief in his eyes once he sees him step inside, then there is anger, hurt, frustration. Something more. James’ eyes have always been expressive to an absurd degree, even behind those stupid, round glasses of his.

“Moony found you?” He asks, his voice small and reserved.

“No.” Sirius averts his gaze, eyes busying themselves with other items around them as he takes off his jacket slowly and hangs it at the entrance. “You did, apparently.” He can see the dark bags under James’ eyes, now that he’s looking. “And Lily came to bail me out.”

James’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. So he did not know about that. “Lily?”

“Yeah.” Sirius measures him with his gaze carefully for a moment, then looks away once more as he makes his way into the kitchen to make himself something warm to drink. “We talked a little, you know. About you.”

He can feel the strain in James’ voice as he swallows thickly. “About me?”

“Yeah, James, about you.” Sirius turns the kettle on with a snap of his fingers and pulls out two mugs and a chai mix from the cupboard. “She told me why you broke up.” He turns around to face him at last, leaning against the counter with his palms.

James is a little pale, the thick vein in his neck standing out like it always does when he’s particularly stressed or nervous.

“I told you.” He says, very quietly.

“No - the real reason, not those bullshit stories you fed me.” His voice comes out a little harsher than he intended, and Sirius winces internally. “She said it was because of me.” He tells himself to stay calm; he’s had an hour or so to himself to calm his erratic heartbeat on his way here, he should be the one acting rationally now. Yelling and getting angry won’t make it better, it never does.

“I just..” Sirius shuts his eyes for a moment and scrubs a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. “Why did you never tell me?”

James is still as he watches him from across the room. His shoulders are tense and his eyes are guarded, his entire body language projecting readiness for an attack, which is a look Sirius has seen on him in the past, but never ever directed at himself.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, Prongs. Something. Just--”

“What do you want me to do, Sirius?” James asks, his voice abruptly climbing up several tones at once. He gets up from the sofa and steps closer, only the distance of the kitchen table left between them now. “You want me to stop.. feeling what I’m feeling? I can’t, you know I can’t, God knows I tried, Sirius, I really tried.” His voice is shaking, reaching the point of a dangerous crack as he talks. Sirius understands the words, he knows what they mean, but he does not understand , it all sounds like a very, very twisted dream to him.

“Maybe you can sleep with me, and hug me, and let me suck your dick, and fuck you, and not feel anything - but I can’t, okay?” James exclaims, breathless despite standing in place. “I’m sorry, this is the truth, do whatever you want with it.”

Sirius does not know why, but he laughs. It’s a hysterical, high-pitched sound that brews in his stomach and makes its way up his throat until it’s spilling out of him like vomit, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. It’s ridiculous, the entire situation is absolutely absurd, he does not even know how to start approaching it - he’s been pinching himself his entire way here, but he is still expecting to wake up.

“Sirius, just-- listen,” James steps closer, placing a hand on the back of a chair, a note of desperation to his voice, “this does not have to change anything. We can still keep doing whatever it is we are doing, I promise I won’t make it weird, or- or-” he stammers, his eyes on Sirius, wide and big and pleading, “If it worked up until now, why can’t it--”

“Can you shut up for one fucking minute and let me talk?”

James jerks his hand back. “Okay.” He says, his voice is small, and scared and so goddamn insecure, and how in the world did Sirius ever let this happen?

“James, love,” Sirius steps around the table, ignoring the kettle going off behind him, until he is standing right in front of James, half an arm’s reach from him. “All I’ve ever wanted to do, since sixth year… is this.”

He ignores the ringing in his ears, ignores the way his heart is beating madly like it might actually tear his ribcage appart, ignores the way he can barely breathe at all; he shuts his eyes, cups James’ face with his hands gently, and pushes their lips together.

It’s not anything special. James does not taste like roses, or doves, or whatever; there are no fireworks going off in the distance. But it’s James, and it’s the only thing Sirius has ever wanted in his entire life, and they are actually kissing now, the other’s fists in his shirt, pulling him closer, until they are forced to pull apart because they both have no air left.

“I don’t understand.” James whispers, panting, as he opens up his eyes to look at Sirius from up close. Sirius does not understand either, doesn’t understand how it took them so much time to get here, but he is not going to question it, as long as he can enjoy the outcome. “What does it mean?”

“It means Lily was right, we are both fucking idiots.” Sirius rasps out. He steps back, his body weight suddenly feeling too much for his feet, and flops down onto the sofa behind them.

James follows him, lowering himself on top of the arm of the sofa next to him. His eyes are locked on Sirius, unblinking. “So you.. you also..”

“I love you.” Sirius blurts out, those same three words that he has told James over and over so many times, but now he knows that the other actually knows what he means by it. “I love you, James, I want you, I need you. I’ve never needed anything so badly.”

James watches him, his eyes going soft and warm, and then he throws his arms around Sirius, tackling him down onto the sofa. Their mouths find each other, James’ fingers tangled in his hair, while Sirius’ hands are cupping the other’s cheeks, pulling each other closer.

Sirius suddenly tastes salt through the kiss.

“You’re crying.” He says, his fingers trailing over James’ moist cheeks gently, cradling his face between his hands.

“No, you’re crying.” James retorts through a wet laugh, and Sirius does not really realise that he is until James’ hand comes up to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye.

There is tears, and laughter, and James’ lips on his, kissing him, kissing the breath, and the sadness, and the doubt out of him, all of it together, and Sirius does not know if he is crying because of all the bottled up stress finally pouring out, or because he is happy, he is just so incredibly happy, because it’s James, it’s James’ hands on his face, and James’ fingers in his hair, and James’ lips on his mouth, and--

It draws a ragged sob out of him, and then a laugh, and James is there, crying and laughing together with him, pressing kisses to his wet eyelids, pouring his entire heart out to him, whispering “I love you, I love you, I love you”.

And nothing else matters.

-

Once he gets to claim it, James won’t leave his mouth alone.

He keeps stealing kisses from him at the last moments Sirius expects it, catching him off guard. He wakes him up with a shower of tender pecks all over his face, kisses him while Sirius is eating, stealing half-bitten bits of chips right out of his mouth, suddenly leans over the table to silence him with a kiss while Sirius rambles angrily about something he read, pulls him in by the waist while they’re making something to eat in the kitchen to devour his lips.

Sirius can not get enough of it.

-

For as good as sex had been before, with kissing it is infinitely better. It’s like the last of the barriers between them have been finally broken down, and there is no hesitation now, no holding back, just pure, unstoppable passion pouring out of the both of them.

“I love you,” James whispers against his lips over and over, both a promise and a plea, “God, Sirius, I love you so much.”

It feels like doing it for the first time all over again, when James kisses him gently, slowly, taking his time as he pushes inside, swallowing all of Sirius’ whimpers with his mouth.

“Is this good?” He keeps asking, whispering at him, “I wanna make you feel good, baby, I want you to feel so, so good.”

“Yes, yes, just keep going,” Sirius whispers back, buckling his hips against James, pushing onto him, “don’t hold back.”

James grabs his hips and pulls Sirius up suddenly, moving them both into a sitting position. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, hands on Sirius’ hips to keep him tightly pressed against him. Sirius throws his arms around James, locking his hands behind his neck, and wraps his legs around the other’s waist securely, straddling him with his thighs.

“You’re gorgeous,” James groans, pressing the words into his mouth, along the side of his jaw, down his neck, into his collarbone, “so fucking gorgeous and mine, mine only.” James’ hand goes down to wrap around Sirius’ hard cock between their stomachs. “Say it.”

“I’m yours.” Sirius whispers frantically, “I’ve always been yours.”

He’s always been nobody’s but James’, just like James has always been his. He is more sure of it than of the fact that the sun will rise the next morning.

James moves his hips, thrusting rhythmically up and down. Sirius moans, burying his flushed face in the crook of James’ neck. It’s not enough, nothing is enough, he needs James so deep inside him he can’t feel anything else.

“Harder, I need to feel you.”

James’ hands come up to grip his hips forcefully and he raises him in the air, only giving Sirius a split of a second to gasp and tighten his grip around James’ shoulders, before he brings his hips down, slamming them hard back onto his cock.

“Yes, yes, please, keep going, James, for the love of god, don’t stop.” He cries, almost sobbing, as the other’s hands keep slamming his ass onto the entire length of his cock.

“Hold tight.” James grunts into his ear, and when Sirius feels him push up to stand on his feet, he tightens the lock grip of his legs around James’ waist, hands holding onto his shoulders and back to not fall off.

James holds him up from below with both hands and straightens up. The position changes the angle at which his cock is pressing inside of him, and it hits a particularly sweet spot, making Sirius throw his head back with a loud moan.

James tightens his grip on Sirius’ hips and presses his back against the wall, holding him in place while he thrusts in and out, hitting that spot over and over again until Sirius is nothing but a whimpering, writhing mess in his arms.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” Sirius keeps chanting again and again, fingers clutching at James’ shoulderblades, back arching with every thrust, “that’s so good, you’re so good, I love you so much.”

James pulls his head away a little to see him fully, and presses his forehead against Sirius’, pushing their lips together. Sirius moans into his mouth, drowning in the way James is absolutely devouring him, like he wants to suck out every drop of oxygen from his lungs and replace it with his love.

“I love you too, Sirius, God, I love you so much, you have no idea.”

One of his hands leaves Sirius’ hips to grab his cock instead, squeezing it in his palm tightly, stroking up and down.

“Come for me, baby.”

And Sirius does, shaking and panting, eyes rolling back with pleasure when he feels James thrust up one last time, driving his member all the way up to the prostate, filling him up with warmth as he comes as well.

-

“Wanna move in with me?” Sirius asks him once they’re both lying on the bed, trying to get their breathing under control. Sirius is on his back, head on the pillow, and James is lying on his stomach to his side, leaned partially sideways with his leg draped over Sirius’ body, face tucked into the side of his chest. Sirius’ fingers are combing through James’ hair, brushing it absentmindedly.

James huffs out a laugh into his skin. “I thought I already live here.”

Sirius turns his head sideways lazily and gives him a cheeky smirk. “I thought you’re just crashing for a few nights.”

“Pads,” James pushes himself up, placing his chin on Sirius’ chest to glance up at him. His eyes are a little glossy, already half clouded with sleep as he blinks up at him slowly. “I even have my own key and everything.”

Sirius snorts. “Then how about you start paying rent, you arsehole.” He cups James’ cheek in his hand and pulls his face up. James shuts his eyes, a soft, endearing expression on his face as he lets Sirius bring their lips together in a slow, tender kiss.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Sirius tells him.

James just hums in delight and rolls onto his side, curling into Sirius’ arms, pulling his own arms around him, silently demanding a hug as he settles into a comfortable position to fall asleep next to him.

Sirius would not have it any other way.

-

They physically can not stop touching each other all over the days after, it feels like something is physically missing when they are apart for too long, even for a few hours.

James keeps pulling him in, nuzzling his neck, biting his ear, pressing kisses to his face.

Sirius thinks they might finally scare off the last of their remaining friends with their mutual obsession, except he couldn't care less even if they did.

“You are both so incredibly gross.” Peter brings two fingers to his mouth and makes a gagging sound at the back of his throat as he pushes himself up from the table to place his empty bowl in the sink.

“It’s our flat, you are welcome to watch us be gross all we want, or fuck off.” Sirius yells at him from the couch.

James grimaces underneath him. “You are yelling in my ear.” He whines and Sirius hurries to press a kiss to his scrunched nose, smoothing out the wrinkles there.

“Sorry, love.” He says, moving to place another kiss just by his ear.

“Gross!” Peter yells at them from the kitchen.

Remus takes a sip of his tea and sets the cup aside. “I’m just glad you finally got over yourselves. It was starting to get so old.”

“And you!” Sirius clicks his tongue and throws up a hand to jab his finger accusingly at him. “I’m not done with you yet! You knew this whole time and you didn’t say anything.”

“I tried.” Remus says dryly, “Several times. You were not listening.”

“Leave it, Pads,” James grabs his face, pulling him back on top of him, into the soft comfort of their living room couch. “What matters is that we’re here now.”

Sirius lets James pull his head back down to rest against the other’s chest.

He is right, what matters is that they are here now.

-

“Fuck yes- yeah, go on.”

They are in the shower, Sirius’ back pressed against the wet tiles behind him while James is on his knees, between his legs, moaning around his cock. One of Sirius’ favourite positions, really, right next to being bent over random pieces of furniture around their flat and fucked senseless.

“God, yes, I love you, you’re so good,” Sirius keeps chanting, everything spilling out of his mouth at once, “marry me.”

Credit where credit is due, after almost choking at the sound of the words, James manages to pull himself together pretty quickly and finish the job, very well at that, Sirius notes as he groans, buckling his hips into James’ mouth as he comes. He sinks down to the floor across the other and James shifts closer to press a kiss to his lips.

“Did you mean that?” He asks him.

Sirius opens his eyes to find James looking at him with those big doe eyes of his. So adorable, and endearing, and lovable, and-- definitely husband material, Sirius thinks.

“If you want to.”

James blinks. He seems to consider it for a second, then- “Yes.” He says strongly. “Of course I want to.”

Sirius feels his lips curl up in a warm smile. He leans forward and presses a firm kiss to the other’s lips.

“Then I guess we should go shopping for rings today.”