things you said after you kissed me OMG
it was a warm sunday evening in july, the two boys were sat on the rooftop of potter manor. despite incessant warning’s from mrs potter that it was very much forbidden, this was james and sirius’ favourite place to go when they wanted to get away together. they were never really away from everything unless they were together.
both had a bottle of some kind of alcohol in hand, sirius’ burnt out cigarette between them, listening to the birds chorus or the soft breeze blowing through the trees. sirius looked over at james, who was basking in the low sun. mybe it was the alcohol, or the hazy sun light, but the way james looked to sirius right now was ethereal. he didn’t look real. the light lit up his dark hair in shining gold, glinting on his glasses. he saw the way his lips were slightly turned up at the corners, his strong jaw line as his head was tipped back. his never-not-messy hair was living up to it’s reputation. this was another one of those (now increasingly common) moments where all he could do was admire him, james potter, his best friend. he thought about what they could be doing if he was more than that. to sirius james was; to sirius he was so much more, but this was not returned and he’d told himself so many times that he was okay with that; that even having him in his life was a blessing enough.
james turned to look at sirius, a slight smirk on his lips before taking a swig of his bottle. sirius raised his eyebrows
“what is it, potter?”
“what is what, black?”
“you’re looking at me like that again”
“well, so were you.”
sirius could feel his cheeks getting hotter. he scoffed and leans back on his elbows. “dunno what you mean.”
james smirked again, nodding his head. “you do.”
sirius shrugged, closing his eyes and ruffling up his hair pretending to ignore james. there was a silence between them. sirius felt the warmth of the sun on his face. he liked to close his eyes. when your eyes are closed nothing is certain, nothing is real; you can only hear and smell which were to very underrated senses in sirius’ mind; they leave a lot to the imagination. he’d come to appreciate them, especially since becoming an animagus. he could hear james gulping down the liquid in the bottle; he imagined what it would look like; he allowed himself the pleasure of that. the steady movement of his adam’s apple, the little bit of alcohol that ran free down the corner of his lips and onto his chin. this hadn’t been the first time he’d wanted to help clean that off. whilst deep in his fantasy, the real james potter threw his bottle to the ground, there was a crashing sound as it shattered against a tree and then an exclamation of elation. sirius didn’t open his eyes. james always tried to hit the tree, he usually failed. whilst catching was a strong point for james, precision throwing was not.
“nice one, prongs” he murdered distractedly. almost before he had the chance to finish his words, james’ lips were against his. it was so sudden. too sudden. he wasn’t sure if he was just fantasising too vividly. it’d never been this vivid. his lips instinctively moved against james’. as soon as the kiss had started, it stopped, their lips drifting apart, it was only a few centimetres but it was too far for sirius’ liking. way too far. he reached up and grabbed that ridiculous patch of untameable hair on the back of james’ head then pulled him back in. this time the kiss was more. it was harder, it was hungry. it was 6 years of tension. james let out a soft sound, moving closer to him. if there was one thing about sirius black, it was he never did anything half heartedly, no half measures and this kiss was no different. there was the taste, of cigarette smoke, of alcohol on each other’s tongues. sirius’s hands were rough, james was needy, running his hands every where over his best friend’s torso that he could reach.
they were both strong. they both fought for dominance, it was like one of their play fights. james held sirius down against the warm roofing tiles, sirius tugged his fingers through james’ matted hair. neither of them were quiet, groaning and gasping.
eventually they pulled away for much needed breath. sirius finally opened his eyes, his breathing was heavy but so was james’. he looked up at him, running his tongue along his bottom lip. the taste of james potter was still fresh. what to say now? sirius thought, he could feel his heart racing, he wondered if james could too. james’ cheeks were pink, his hair even more messy. the two boys looked at each other for a while, neither wanting to break the silence. once james’ breathing had steadied, he exhaled slowly and broke into a grin. that made sirius feel more comfortable, james’ smile had always been contagious. he laughed a little, wiping his lips. james nodded and then moved to sit back beside him, his hand sliding off sirius’ chest. he leaned back, looking out over the garden again.
“nice one, pads.” he said, cracking open another bottle.
sirius looked up at him, he couldn’t read him. usually he knew what james was thinking, but the one time he wanted to now was the one time he couldn’t. he loosened up after he’d spoken, sitting up and holding his bottle up toward james’. the necks of their bottles chinked together in cheers.
“not so bad yourself, prongs.” sirius replied, nodding his head.
james smiled back and then took a swig, barely turning back to look at sirius. sirius didn’t mind, in fact, it was easier this way. they didn’t say a word to each other until they climbed down off the roof and back through the window. then they shoved the empty bottles under james’ bed, said good night and went to sleep in separate bedrooms. both lying in their beds, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about what just happened. the morning after they were woken by mrs. potter, had breakfast and never spoke of that kiss again.
at least until the next one.