Give me the Peter who met Sirius and James and had to ask them to slow the hell down. They met two days ago, how are they already talking like this. Finishing each other’s sentences before Peter has time to turn his head and read the lips.
He can hear, he can, but it’s hard. It’s so much easier to hear when he can read your lips. For a long time, Lily and Remus are the only ones remember to make sure Peter can see what they’re saying. Then Peter bursts into tears because he didn’t hear James’ warning to duck. And from that moment on, Sirius and James are careful. Annoyingly careful.
When you came to the Hotel Cortez, all you had been looking for was a place to stay for a few nights. You never expected to find anything more than that. Much less finding yourself in any sort of relationship with the ghost of the man dubbed as the original Ten Commandments Killer.
James had approached you on your first night there, while you had been drinking at the bar, and one thing had led to another. Now you found yourself in a sort of “enemies with benefits” situation. It wasn’t that you were really enemies, but you weren’t exactly friends either. You weren’t even sure if you could even be classified as lovers.
Your relationship with James centered around deliberately angering each other and then using that ire as passion in the bedroom. It was a mutually beneficial situation that left you both satisfied in the end.
However, that didn’t mean it was at all satisfying in the moments leading up to it. Those moments were, in fact, incredibly infuriating.
“Bite me, James,” you seethed.
James’ face contorted to convey his growing anger as you continued to “disrespect” him. “I will not be talked to in such an impudent manner in my own hotel. I demand respect!”
Your lips curled up into a mocking smirk as finally his calm veneer began to crack. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”
To punctuate your statement, you blew a kiss in his direction. The natural pallor of his skin flushed a deeper red with his offense at your audacity to mock him. But he was quick to school his expression back to that false aura of calm he was so expert in adopting when wishing to hide his true emotions.
“Well, my darling [Y/N], I find you rather ravishing as well. Though I do find it rather hard in moments such as these to appreciate your beauty when your horrid lack of propriety acts as a repellent.”
“My lack of propriety? You’re a fucking serial killer!”
“Yes, but I never lost sight of my manners, my dear.”
You stared at him for a second, disbelieving of his argument. Finally your mouth twisted into a scowl. “Sometimes I really don’t like you.”
He smirked. “And yet you are unable to stay away from me.”