Work Text:
As far as Teddy was concerned, James Sirius Potter was an open book.
James made no secret about his being gay — something he’d realised when he was fifteen and promptly told the entire school the next day. When he was sixteen he made no secret about fancying the pants off Teddy — something that made Teddy feel wholly uncomfortable about, both because of James’s age and because every time he visited he worried Ginny or Harry might think he returned James’s affections, which left him feeling more than a bit awkward. Teddy had always liked James even if his enthusiasm was occasionally overwhelming. James did nothing by halves. Not his friendships or his school work or Quidditch. If James felt something was important, he gave it his all.
The problem was no matter how many times Teddy told James he didn’t return his feelings, it didn’t seem to dissuade him. Teddy couldn’t even be upset about it, not really. He knew deep down James tried , he didn’t mean to single Teddy out or put the spotlight on him. The problem was James was utterly incapable of hiding his feelings. There was something in the pitch of his voice, in the tilt of his body when Teddy was near, in the way his eyes trailed after Teddy when he left a room that left no question in anyone’s mind where his affections lay.
When James left Hogwarts Teddy had hoped his attention might fall elsewhere. James was smart and attractive and wildly talented. Surely there was someone worthy of his affections who might return them.
The day James accepted a contract with the Pride of Portee Teddy was ashamed to admit, even to himself, that he was grateful he’d chosen a team far enough away that they might not see each other as much.
“Why Scotland?” he’d asked James over a butterbeer, the sun setting over the garden fence. He was pretty certain he knew the answer.
James had been unusually quiet as he’d raised his tumbler of firewhisky to his lips, downing it as it as if he were hoping to drown in it. “Just think it might be nice for a change of scenery.”
Teddy almost felt bad. He wasn’t stupid. He knew James was probably trying to get away from him . Teddy’d made no secret of his hope that James might get over him. It wasn’t that he had any desire to cut off contact with James, in fact he had every intention of writing him often and visiting him when his work schedule allowed. Teddy liked James. He just didn’t like him.
The truth was Teddy was looking forward to being able to go about his life without worrying he might crush James’s spirit. James was a bit like the sun and Teddy felt like instead of being warmed he was being burned .
On a warm day in July James had clapped him on the back, one last goodbye hug that had lasted longer than it needed to, a hug Teddy felt somehow reluctant to pull out of. He’d stood beside an emotional Harry as they watched James Apparate away from the Potters’ garden with his belonging shrunk in his pocket and his broom in hand. His smile had been bright, and Teddy knew him well enough to know it was a smile solely for their benefit.
Teddy had spent years waiting for James to give him a bit of space, to have the chance to get over him and realise he wasn’t actually in love with Teddy but simply infatuated.
At first it was a relief, coming home from work and knowing James wouldn’t be popping round for a beer and a bit of telly unannounced. He spent the entire first week lounging around in his flat in nothing but his pants simply because he could, because there would be no unannounced visitors to contend with or wonder at his state of undress. It was nice, he told himself, to go to dinner at Harry and Ginny’s on Sunday and have a lovely roast and talk about the new Auror recruits with Harry and not have to worry James might make a joke about the size of Teddy’s bread roll or some ridiculous innuendo about the buttered peas.
It was nice, he told himself, to head round to the pub and know he could try to pull without worrying James might see him and get his heart broken.
The second Saturday after James left he went to the club alone for the first time since James had left school. Teddy danced like no one was watching, and he felt free knowing there was no one there who expected anything of him, no one who wanted anything from him. The problem, he realised several hours later, was that as the night went on and as his drinks got stronger, it became obvious there was no one there Teddy wanted anything from either.
Teddy figured it must have been an off night and tried again the next week. And the week after. And even though every weekend he left the clubs feeling somehow emptier than when he arrived, he didn’t stop going.
No one who asked him to dance seemed to dance in the same carefree way James did when he invited himself out with Teddy. No one else’s eyes burned holes into Teddy as he moved on the dancefloor with other people as if he were the center of their universe, and no one looked as confident as James did in a pair of jeans and a plain shirt as if it were everyone else who was overdressed. James was magnetic, and Teddy had spent so long feeling stifled by what James wanted from him, he’d never once stopped to consider what he might want from James.
Teddy was not comfortable with this train of thought and decided to drown his musings in the bottom of a bottle of top-shelf aged mead.
The next morning Teddy regretted his every life decision. He barely managed to stumble into his bathroom to find a bottom of hangover potion, half trying to drown himself in the ice cold water he splashed on his face before stumbling back to his bedroom and wondering why the fuck he slept naked, when he realised he was not alone. There was a man in his room. A naked man. He’d got a mop of auburn hair and freckled shoulders on display, as he sprawled across Teddy’s bed and snored the morning away despite the bright sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtain. Teddy held his breath with a sense of horror and shame as the man grunted and rolled onto his back, the sheet tangling on his legs and letting Teddy know he was not the only one who slept naked. Fuck.
The stranger looked to be about Teddy’s age. His face covered in thick stubble, and his chest had the same dusting of freckles as his back. The man was definitely fit — something that did nothing to dislodge the burgeoning remorse already swirling through Teddy, who usually never pulled when he was that drunk. But despite their obvious age difference and some obvious physical differences, there was something about him that reminded Teddy so much of James he felt like as if he’d been hexed, a painful tightening in his chest and a complete inability to move. It took every ounce of self-control Teddy had not to Floo-call Harry and have a complete and utter breakdown. Harry was always there for him, always listened and supported him no matter what stupid thing Teddy had done or what emotional realities of life Teddy felt incapable of dealing with. The only thing stopping him was that his current crisis involved Harry’s eldest son.. This was absolutely not something Teddy felt like he could go to Harry with, which only set him off on a new wave of panic.
By the time the stranger left Teddy’s flat an hour later he was more confused than ever.
Clearly he missed James. Just as a friend. It didn’t mean anything else. James had been a part of Teddy’s life since the moment he was born — tagging along after Teddy at five and begging him to morph for him, crying at the platform when Teddy left for Hogwarts, trying to sneak into the Hufflepuff common room when he was sorted into Gryffindor, and begging to spend summers crashing on Teddy’s sofa. Teddy had been James’s favorite person since he could talk, so of course Teddy missed him. It didn’t necessarily mean anything else.
Teddy only needed to take a day off work, needed to pop over to Scotland and visit James and see how he was doing for himself and not hear it secondhand from a letter or from Harry.
Then everything would be clearer, easier to understand.
Then everything would go back to normal.
*~*~*~*
It took Teddy only five minutes on the field of the Pride of Portee training grounds to remember how much he’d always loved watching James fly. James had all Ginny’s agility and fierceness and all Harry’s natural grace on a broom. His innate skill and his complete dedication made him a force to be reckoned with, and Teddy felt a sudden wave of pride for James, for how much this must mean to him. Watching him soar high above the pitch making passes and easily dodging bludgers — his purple robes whipping around him — made Teddy feel alive.
It was another forty minutes before the coach blew the whistle to signal the end of training and Teddy retreated to the shadows, not sure why he wasn’t ready to face James yet.
James sped down to the grass, pulling his broom up at the last minute and hopping off, a huff of excited laughter escaping him. James had begun to grow his hair out a few months before he’d left Hogwarts and it was even longer now, pulled up into a messy bun atop his head, with stray strands of hair falling into his eyes and curling up at his neck.
“Well done, Potter!” several of his teammates said, clapping him on the back as they walked by. Teddy couldn’t remember all their names, but he knows James was the only new player for the Pride of Portee, one of only three new players added to the British League in total this year, and he was pleased to see James fitright in.
James nodded to the man on his left, who leaned in to whisper something that made James laugh, and Teddy recognised the other man immediately — Marcus Tilly, the Portee’s star Seeker. A weird burning settled in Teddy’s stomach as he ground his teeth, unwilling to examine why he cared if James was close to one teammate in particular. Teddy was happy for James. Teddy wants James to be happy. Hadn’t he told James that exact thing the night before he left? “Go and find someone who deserves you, Jamie, someone who can love you back.”
The problem was Teddy hadn’t realised James might take him up on his advice, or worse, that he might regret giving it.
Teddy had half a mind to Apparate straight back to England before he noticed James had changed directions and was walking towards him, undoing the buttons on the front of his robe and shucking it to the ground. “Fucking sweltering today,” he complained, stopping and yanking his shirt off as well, tossing it onto the pile of clothing on the grass.
Teddy swallowed, shoving his hands into his pockets. James was fit . When did James get so fit? Teddy’d spent so much time thinking about why it was a monumentally bad idea for James to fancy him — the age difference, the fact that Teddy’s godfather was James’s dad — he’d never let himself dwell on his feelings, never let him think about what it might feel like to fancy James .
Marcus was clearly trying to get James’s attention, not that he needed to try hard, since he’d already had it. He reached out his hand to rest on James’s muscled, sweaty bicep. James turned to him, shaking the hair out of his face and smiling a sort of soft and knowing smile, the kind he used to give to Teddy as if it were nothing. The kind Teddy thought he had no time for.
The burning returned twofold this time and felt decidedly more uncomfortable, more like the time he’d eaten an entire pack of Acid Pops in a single sitting for a dare during his seventh year. Except it was not sweets threatening to burn a hole through Teddy this time: it was regret.
Teddy felt as if he’d been trapped by Devil’s Snare, unable to move a muscle as James turned his head and his James’s warm hazel eyes landed on Teddy’s. Relief washed over Teddy when pleasure replaced James’s initial flicker of surprise at Teddy’s presence.
“Teddy!” James shouted, waving his exuberantly before he sprinted across the field and slammed into Teddy. Teddy groaned as James’s weight slammed into his chest, but he enveloped James in his arms and refused to admit how nice it felt to be wrapped in James’s firm hug. He seemed more solid than Teddy remembered. No one hugged the way James did.
Teddy’d spent the last few months so afraid of letting James get too close lest it be misconstrued as encouragement, he’d forgotten how James’s strong hugs made everything else fade into nonexistence. When James was a kid he’d had a way of enveloping people in a hug as if it were for them and not for him, a way of pouring his love into other people without asking anything back. It’d never occured to Teddy what it might feel like to lose it.
The hug was far too brief and James pulled back before Teddy was ready to let him go. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”
Teddy willed himself not to blush. I had an overwhelming need to see your face seemed wholly inappropriate considering he’d spent the last two years insisting he didn’t want James looking at him . At least not like that, not the way he was looking at James right now— the midday sun reflecting off his bare, sweaty skin. Teddy had the urge to wipe the beads of sweat off James’s collarbone, to feel the sun-warmed freckles beneath the pads of his fingers. Maybe the Portkey to Scotland had addled his brain. “Just wanted to check on you,” Teddy answered, and wasn’t a lie. Not really.
James looked amused. “Did Dad make you come? Did he tell you I was living on takeaway? Fuck, Albus has a big mouth. I can’t believe he told Dad!”
“I’m not here about the takeaway,” Teddy laughed.
“Who's your friend, Jamie?” Marcus asked, popping up out of nowhere, and Teddy felt as if he had been punched in the gut. Jamie . No one else called James that but him. Not since James turned eleven and started sending every member of his family a Howler when they slipped up, reminding them he was a grownup Gryffindor now and not a baby.
Teddy had called him Jamie one last time, a week after James had started school, just to rile him up, but James had got this sort of secret, proud smile and simply beamed at Teddy. Teddy’d not understood then why he was the only one allowed to call him Jamie, but he’d liked it. It felt like something they shared, despite the age and the new house barriers and the shite life seemed determined to throw at Teddy. There was something about being with James, when the name slipped from his tongue, that made Teddy think of warm summer days in the Potters’ backyard, of eating ice cream in the middle of the night when he stayed over. Mostly though, calling James Jamie made Teddy feel a bit more, well like Teddy.
As the years went on Teddy guessed why, but even so he’d never been able to make himself stop, to put distance between them. There was a part of James that would always be his Jamie. Or so he’d thought. Fuck, Teddy was an idiot.
“This is Teddy.” James nodded his head towards Teddy. The first name introduction made it obvious James had mentioned him before. Pleasure swirled in Teddy’s chest. “Teddy, this is Marcus, our Seeker.”
Marcus’s green eyes widened as they flickered over Teddy’s body, scrutinizing him from the tips of his aqua-blue hair to the toes of his Auror-issued black shoes, as if comparing him to a memory. He suspected now that James might’ve talked about him a lot, considering how Marcus inched closer to James and bumped their shoulders while plastering on the world’s fakest smile and holding out his hand.
Teddy straightened, inordinately pleased to think of himself as someone Marcus might see as competition. Marcus was talented and attractive — if you liked tan italians who were fast on a broom and good with their hands. Not that Teddy was competition of course. Because he wasn’t interested in James like that. He didn’t like Marcus was all.
“Pleasure to meet you, Teddy .” He rolled the d s in Teddy’s name, making it sound sordid. Teddy smiled wider, pushing down the sudden infantile desire to flip him off.
James raised an eyebrow, watching them shake hands. It felt a bit like a game of chicken, as if whomever pulled out of this ridiculous death grip handshake first was admitting their defeat. Teddy was not sure why exactly, but he found himself as unable as Marcus to end it.
“Right, is this awkward display of masculinity almost over?” James snorted, reaching back and pulling on his hair tie. His hair fell around his face in a mass of wavy curls, one strand in particular obscuring his eyes as the rest tumbled to brush the tops of James’s shoulders, which were awash in sun-kissed freckles.
Teddy’s not sure which one of them let go first, but there was a weird tension buzzing in the air, and Marcus is openly staring at James with a look of desire that made Teddy’s blood turn to ice. James didn’t seem to notice either one of them staring as he shook his hair out with a groan, digging his blunt fingertips into his scalp. “That was too tight,” he laughed.
Marcus coughed, shifting his robes in the front. Teddy wished he had robes to hide his own reaction. Not that James noticed that either. It’d always amazed him how James could notice so much about other people and so little about himself.
“I hate to leave you hanging alone, Teddy, but James and I had plans to go to the club tonight, and we should really both leave to get ready.” Marcus however looks pleased at the idea of leaving Teddy alone.
“Teddy, you’ll come won’t you?” James’s face was open as always, but the longing Teddy was used to seeing was absent.
“Of course I’ll come. I’ll just stay at your place after if we drink too much. You don’t mind if I come home with you?”
“We might— ”
“Course I don’t mind,” James finished, shooting Marcus an encouraging smile before turning to Teddy. “It’ll be fun. I haven’t been clubbing with Teddy in months.”
The last time they’d been clubbing Teddy’d left with a man much older than either him or James, not sure if he were trying to remind himself or James that he could. The second he’d stepped outside the club, the blistering night air assaulting his face, he’d regretted his decision and left alone — a fact he’d never shared with James. He can still remember the hurt that had passed across James’s face when Teddy had told him he was leaving, the way James’s eyes had darted between Teddy and the man standing at the end of the bar. A smile and a clap on the back had replaced the hurt as he’d whispered, “Have a good night, Ted.”
Teddy had felt embarrassed by James’s attention, afraid of what people would think if he fancied a teenager. He’d spent so much time thinking about what it could mean, he’d never thought about how it felt .
James — kind, infectious, honest-to-a-fault James — had never asked anything of Teddy except that he be happy, even when that happiness threatened to break James’s heart. Teddy had thought he was protecting James by making sure he knew they had no chance of being together. It only occurred to him now that perhaps he’d been trying to protect himself.
“Sorry, what?” Teddy asked, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck when he realised he’d missed something. He could see the tips of his hair turning pink and wondered if his face matched.
“I said you can come back to my place while I get ready. Then we’ll meet Marcus at the club.”
“Right, sounds perfect.”
“Perfect,” Marcus agreed with an easy smile, betraying none of the tension Teddy picked up in the way he changed his grip on his broom or the way the vein in his neck suddenly bulged and Teddy suddenly appreciated his Auror training.
Going back to James’s flat turned out to be anything but perfect.
James’s flat was so quintessentially James. It was small, an average sized living room and a poky kitchen with one bedroom, but despite the small space it feels bigger. The walls are a cheerful yellow, the kitchen window open to let the warm summer breeze drift through the flat as Teddy plops into the chair at the tiny kitchen table and listens to the sound of the water running in the shower down the corridor. He glances around taking in the box of tea and packages of biscuits shoved behind the tea kettle. The sink is piled with high with cups and plates to be washed — a chore James had always hated — and a quick glance at the rubbish bin shows Teddy that yes, James probably had been living on takeaway.
Teddy wasn’t sure what possessed him, an inability to sit and think about James taking a shower perhaps, but he found himself moving about the kitchen, spelling all the dishes clean and banishing the rubbish with an easy flick of his wand.
By the time James walked into the kitchen twenty minutes later, Teddy had also cleared the mass of Quidditch magazines off the table, cleaned the counters, and put away the clean dishes. James’s bare feet were poking out of a well-fitted pair of of charcoal grey trousers and a plain white shirt. His hair was damp, pulled back into another bun, and a few stray pieces had fallen out and curled around his chin. The urge to reach out, to tuck one strand behind his ear was nearly overwhelming.
“What in the fuck happened in here?” James laughed, turning in a circle as he took in the spotless kitchen. “Where’s my food? And my dirty dishes? I thought you were an Auror. You let someone rob me while I was showering?”
Teddy snorted. “You weren’t robbed. I just cleaned. I know its a novel idea but someone had too.”
“Ah, Teddy, I love you,” James said, his eyes sparkling with a familiar playfulness. The words weren’t something Teddy hadn’t heard hundreds of times before, but the this time they didn’t feel heavy, James’s eyes didn’t linger on Teddy. James wasn’t waiting to hear the words back. Not anymore.
Rather, James was already moving on, grabbing his boots off the floor and dropping into the vacated chair to pull them on.
“So, you out to pull tonight? Or just looking to taste a bit of the local spirits?” James fixed Teddy with a stare, one eye raised, as if he already knew the answer. “Thought so,” James added when Teddy didn’t answer, shaking his head.
Teddy didn’t know why he didn’t correct him. Didn’t know why he couldn’t say the words that were stuck in his throat, threatening to suffocate him.
“Alright, well, we best be off, otherwise we’ll be late and Marcus hates when people are late.”
“Wouldn’t want to upset Marcus,” Teddy grumbled, able to find his voice to say that .
James’s nose crinkled up in confusion, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he studied Teddy’s face. “Right. You definitely need a few drinks, Ted. You’re too fucking tense. I knew the long hours would get to you eventually. Clearly you came to see me at exactly the right time. What you need is a bit of fun.”
What he needed. Teddy could think of a whole host of things he needed, unsure why the most obvious one only seemed obvious as soon as he didn’t have it.
*~*~*~*
Teddy wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he’d come to see James. It was a Friday, he’d gotten off work early, and the need to see James's infectious smile in person had seemed suddenly overwhelming. He’d not actually let himself give it too much thought, had realised how much he missed him and felt unable to stay away. Perhaps in the darkest corners of his mind Teddy had hoped to come to Scotland and find that James had missed him just as viscerally, that he wished he were back in England with Teddy. Of course admitting that, if only to himself, made Teddy feel like a right arse. Teddy didn’t want James to be miserable. He also didn’t want to be sitting in the crowded corner of the club nursing his third beer and watching James dance with Marcus.
Fucking Marcus.
Marcus, who had been not-so-casually waiting outside the club for them, leaning against the wall in a a pair of jeans that looked painted on and the same kind of worn leather jacket Teddy had stuffed in the back of his wardrobe. James loved a man in leathers, and apparently Marcus knew it too. Teddy wished he’d brought that bloody jacket with him now.
Marcus had graced Teddy with a polite smile before throwing his arm around James’s shoulder — as if James were his — and leading them all straight past the long queue of underdressed club goers lined up around the side of the brick building and making their way directly inside.
They’d been sat at the table for less than twenty minutes and had barely made it through the first round of drinks before Marcus had asked James to dance. The request and James’s easy acceptance wasn’t surprising. Anyone with two eyes could see the way Marcus was eyeing up James as if he were the last Canary Cream. Marcus reminded Teddy of the male peacocks at Malfoy manor during mating season, showing off their feathers and preening for attention. The fucking twat.
Truthfully none of it was anything new. James had always garnered a lot of attention when he’d gone out clubbing with Teddy. Far more than Teddy ever had anyway. But after one or two dances he always came back to the table — back to Teddy. James’s cheeks would be flushed and his breath warm and thick against Teddy’s neck as he’d lean against him, high on adrenaline and his inhibitions loosened from alcohol as he’d whisper, “Just one dance, Teddy?” Sometimes Teddy thought about saying yes, thought about the way James’s eyes would light up and his arms might wrap around Tedy’s neck, but then James would smile that hopeful smile and Teddy would panic at the idea of letting James get that close, of misleading him.
Now though, Teddy could think of nothing he wanted more.
Teddy sighed and lifted his beer, chugging the last half of it and slamming it down onto the grimy table, watching as Marcus’s arms wound themselves around James’s shoulders. James laughed and moved their bodies closer together as the thrum of the music washed over Teddy. James dancing was always a sight to behold. He was so confident and free, moving his body as if no one were watching so that it made everyone watch.
Teddy felt like he’d been punched in the gut when he realised this must have been how James felt month after month, watching Teddy dance and flirt with other people — watching the person you wanted go with someone else.
Hindsight was a fucker, and apparently so was Teddy.
By the time Marcus and James stopped dancing and made their way back to the table, Teddy was close to Apparating back to James’s flat without a word. Except he was pretty sure he was too drunk to Apparate, and he was definitely too drunk to find his way back to James’s on foot. Fuck.
“Teddy! Why aren’t you dancing?” James asked as he approached the table, pushing the hair off his forehead. His cheeks were red and his shirt was clinging to his chest. He looked good. He looked happy. Guilt for his bad mood and jealousy welled up inside of Teddy
“Just tired.”
James looked like he was about to say something, but Marcus nudged him. “Get me a drink, yeah?”
James nodded with a smile. “Sure thing.”
“Me too,” Teddy seconded, but James snorted.
“I’ll get you some water.”
“I don’t want water. I’m not thirsty,” Teddy complained loudly, trying not to watch James’s arse as he moved through the crowd towards the bar.
Marcus snorted and Teddy hunched up his shoulders in irritation. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked. It came out a bit more confrontational than he’d meant. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the tips of his hair turning red. Fuck. Teddy was shit at hiding things when he was drunk, which was exactly why he didn’t usually get drunk. Well at least not in public.
“You’re thirsty for something and it isn’t fucking water.” Marcus looked equal parts smug and annoyed. As if he had anything to be annoyed about.
“The fuck do you know?” Teddy grumbled.
Marcus leaned back against the booth, spreading his arms wide and giving Teddy a searching look. “I know all about you. That’s what I know.” He paused, looking over to check that James was still at the bar waiting for their drinks before returning his gaze to Teddy. “The infamous Teddy Lupin. James did nothing but talk about you for weeks, you know. He was nervous as hell when he joined the team even though he refused to admit it, missing home, missing you .”
Teddy felt uncomfortable. He hated when people he didn't know thought they knew him. He’d dealt with it his entire life, people looking at him and assuming they knew who he was - war orphan, Metamorphmagus, untrustworthy, werewolf child, Potter’s godson - people always thought knowing bits of Teddy’s story meant they knew him, and he fucking hated it. This felt different though. James obviously liked Marcus, trusted him, had told him things about Teddy. He wondered exactly how much James had told him.
“Doesn’t mean you know me.” Teddy rested his forearms on the table, refusing to back down from Marcus’s gaze.
“No? How about I try. James follows you around like a fucking lovesick puppy for two years and you can’t be arsed with him. Until he leaves and suddenly you’re missing your one-man fan club? You get off on attention, Lupin? You just miss stroking your ego.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Marcus’s words felt closer to the truth than Teddy wanted to admit.
Something subtle in Marcus’s demeanor shifted as he leaned onto the table bringing his face closer to Teddy’s. “I know James is a catch. He’s talented and fit and fucking decent. And I know you haven’t taken your eyes off him all night.”
Teddy’s face heated “I-” but his words were cut off by James’s return.
“Talking about anything interesting? My ears were burning.” James asked with his trademark smile, a single dimple appearing on his left cheek as he lifted his glass to his lips and took a hearty drink. He shot Teddy a cheeky wink before plopping down in the booth next to Marcus. He stretched his long legs out under the table and rested them on the bench next to Teddy.
“I was just telling Teddy here how well you fit on the team. How much you belong here .” Marcus stared at Teddy as he not-so-casually threw his arm over the back of the booth behind James.
It’s clear James has picked up on something because he lifted an eyebrow at Teddy in question, but Teddy couldn’t do this. Not here. Not now.
“Yeah, Marcus here was just telling me what an asset you are to the team.”
“Yes, I was. I was telling him what an amazing flyer you are, what a loyal and dedicated teammate you are.”
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or ask why the fuck you two are having some sort of compliment James war.” James looked confused, but he plastered on a smile nonetheless, and the act is so familiar. How many times before has Teddy seen James’s emotions flicker across his face so freely before he masked them just as quickly? How many times has he seen James shove down his own discomfort to prevent anyone else from having any? The swell of affection hit Teddy like an unexpected Stunning Spell, and before he could consider the consequences, he slid out of the booth and grabbed his coat.
“I’ve got to go,” he muttered, not turning around to see if James or Marcus were watching him. Teddy’s manners took a backseat as he bumped into people, moving them aside rudely to get out of the club as fast as humanly possible. The air was stifling, and it wasn’t until he stepped outside, gasping in the cool summer air that Teddy thought he might be in love with James.
His feet were heavy, his boots scuffing the pavement as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and made his way down the street. He was not even sure where the bloody hell he was going, and it was not until he heard James calling his name that it occured to Teddy a part of him had hoped James might come after him, just as much as he’d feared it.
“Teddy! For fuck’s sake where are you going? What’s wrong?” James’s hands were firm on his upper arm, stopping him in his place. Teddy exhaled before turning to look at James. He looked worried, his cheeks flushed, though whether it was from alcohol or chasing Teddy or something else Teddy couldn’t be sure.
“I just needed to leave.”
“Bollocks,” James said. He let go of Teddy’s arm and crossed his own over his chest. “Tell me what’s going on?”
Teddy wanted to lie. He knew he should lie, but James has always had a way of demanding honesty from people as if everyone could hand over their truths as easily as he does. It was as infuating as it was intoxicating, and before he can stop himself Teddy found the words falling from his lips.
“I didn’t know how much I’d miss you when you left. I didn’t know how much I’d hate seeing you with someone else. If I stayed any longer I was afraid I might’ve punched Marcus.”
James took an involuntary step back, looking more confused than before. “What do you-”
“I think I’m in love with you, Jamie.” The words felt right, even if he’d never thought them before tonight.
“Fuck you!” James yelled, and Teddy felt the air leave him in one go.
“I thought that’s what you want,” Teddy said uselessly, the alcohol making it hard for him to think. Anger was not the reaction he’d expected from James at his confession.
James’s fingers twitched, knuckles turning white as he grabbed at his own forearms. “That’s right, pathetic James who’s been in love with Teddy since he was sixteen. I should be grateful you might love me, huh?” The way he said it felt dirty - wrong .
“James.” It’s all Teddy could say. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say or do. He wondered why no one had prepared him for this, why no one had told him falling in love could be so confusing. He’d loved Victoire with all the freedom of a teenager, easy and casual and light. Though their relationship had ended almost as quickly as it’d started, it’d burned bright while it lasted. That was what Teddy had always thought love was, obvious and easy. But this? This wasn’t easy. And yet now that he’d said the words he knew them to be true.
He thought back on the embarrassment he’d felt at James’s attention and saw it for what it was: confusion. At first James had been too young, and Teddy truly hadn’t reciprocated those feelings. But over the last year Teddy’s insistence that James find someone else, that James’s attentions were unwanted, made Teddy burn with remorse and shame. He’d wanted him. He’d loved and hated James’s smiles, the infectious energy James had possessed, and the powerful way James had loved. Teddy’d been fucking terrified of having someone love him that much, especially James. James who was almost like family, James whom he couldn’t bear to lose. He’d been unable to think of what it might mean to fall in love with his godbrother, and instead of thinking of the ways it might enrich his life he’d thought of the ways it could ruin it.
Teddy realised that if he had loved Victoire, it’d been nothing compared to the way he he loved James. The idea of life without James in some capacity was unbearable. He’d thought he’d been keeping James at a distance to keep James safe, but he was a coward and he knew it. He’d wanted to keep himself safe. He admired James’s courage in laying his own feelings out so honestly now more than he ever had before.
The people who loved Teddy always left in the end. Teddy couldn’t lose James like that. Except apparently he was. Apparently he had.
“I’m sorry,” Teddy supplied.
James swallowed, dropping his hands to his sides. “For not loving me or for loving me?”
“I’m not sure,” Teddy whispered.
“Go home, Teddy. You’re drunk.” James no longer looked angry, he looked hurt, which was a hundred times worse. Teddy was, as he’d feared, destined to keep breaking James’s heart no matter what he did. James took something out of his pocket, shoving it at Teddy. Teddy didn’t need to ask to know what it was - Sobering Potion. Did that mean James had planned on getting drunk tonight? Had he intended on having fun or forgetting Teddy?
Teddy didn’t say a word as he downed the potion, the lingering taste of raspberries - James’s favorite flavor - hanging on his lips. But as he Apparated away, the sight of James’s brown eyes, somehow looking both lost and confused as he watched him from the pavement, made Teddy think he’d rather be drunk.
At least that way when he awoke tomorrow he might be able to forget. But now sober Teddy was painfully aware of what he’d had, and more importantly what he’d lost.
*~*~*~*
Teddy groaned, grabbing the pillow beside his head and burying himself under it to drown out the awful noise ringing in his ears. It didn’t work perfectly, but it dulled the banging to a soft thudding. Unfortunately, it was only a few minutes before Teddy was forced to remove the pillow before he suffocated from lack of oxygen. The banging resumed and was somehow even louder than before.
Teddy sighed, pulling on the hoodie that was thrown over the end of his bed and padding down the corridor into the living room. The wooden floorboards were ice cold and he wished he’d thought to find his slippers first. The banging sound seemed to be coming from his front door, which as far as he knows had only been knocked on once, two weeks after he’d moved in when his elderly Muggle neighbor had lost her cat.
“Open the fucking door, Teddy!”
Teddy groaned. Albus .
He forced on a smile and unlocked the door. “Good morning.”
Albus startled at the door opening, but his surprise was replaced almost immediately by determination as he pushed past Teddy and walked into the flat without being invited.
“Why are you using the front door?” Teddy asked, wincing at the stabbing pain in his head and watching Albus pace back and forth in front of his sofa like he was unsure if he’s coming or going.
“Well you turned the fucking Floo off didn’t you.” Teddy lifted the hoodie, scratching his stomach and shrugging. That sounds like something he might’ve done when he’d gotten home late last night and proceeded to undo the Sobering Potion by drinking an entire bottle of firewhisky. Albus stared at him, and Teddy wondered if he looked as pathetic and hungover as he felt, because something in Albus’s eyes softened. “Teddy-”
“You talked to James. Fuck, I need coffee for this conversation,” he muttered, not bothering to check if Albus was following him as he made his way into the kitchen, pulling his wand out of the front pocket of his hoodie and tapping the kettle. He could hear Albus’s heavy breathing and his fingers tapping on the kitchen table, and was grateful Albus knew him well enough to wait for proper conversation until Teddy’d made his coffee - too strong and not sweet enough. He felt like he deserved to revel in the bitterness this morning.
“Why haven’t you taken a Hangover Potion?” Albus asked when Teddy sat at the table opposite him, cradling his coffee between his hands. Before Teddy could answer Albus’s left eyebrow disappeared beneath his fringe with a knowing look. “Fucking masochist. How the fuck am I supposed to yell at you for hurting James when you’re clearly already beating yourself up over it?”
Teddy blew on his coffee, watching the steam swirl in front of him. “Maybe we skip the yelling?” he suggested.
“Wrong. Luckily for both of us, I’m a fucking genius.” He pulled a small vial out of his coat pocket and slid it across the table. “I also know you and I knew you’d be hungover.”
“Where’d you get this?” Teddy asked, wondering if Harry knew why Albus was here.
“Nicked it from James’s medicine cabinet when I went over to his flat last night. And before you ask, no, he is not fine. The wanker had the same idea as you and Floo-called Mum and Dad at two in the morning completely sloshed and blubbering something incoherent about being unlovable which was just about the most pathetic fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
“James deserves better.”
Albus sighed. “Considering you two are older than me you’re both pretty fucking useless. Just take the fucking Hangover Potion already.”
Teddy wanted to argue, but the lure of a Hangover Potion was too much, and he took it without another complaint, popping off the cap and downing it in one go. Albus was far too smart and observant, and sometimes it made Teddy crazy, but for now he was grateful. The relief was immediate, and he let out a sigh. “Thanks.”
“Right, so back to the important bits now, Teddy. Teds. Ted .” Teddy groaned knowing what was coming. “You’ve been a bit of a right twat, an arsehole, a complete fucking dickhead really and-”
“I think I get the point, Al.” Teddy’s coffee definitely wasn’t strong enough for this.
“Do you? Good. I didn’t really want to keep going. I like you. But I did spend all night preparing. I had some good ones ready just in case you disagreed with me about what a pillock you’ve been. Thundering turbocunt, for example, was one of my favorites.” Albus looked pleased with himself, and Teddy had to wonder what he’d done in life to deserve being told off by a sixteen-year-old with a foul mouth and a penchant for overthinking insults. Right, he’d broken his big brother’s heart. Again .
“You don’t have to do this you know.”
Albus’s smile faltered. “Yes, I do. Teddy, you know you’re like family but...James is James.” He said it as if that explained everything. Teddy supposed it did. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was an only child and didn’t understand sibling dynamics or if it was something uniquely Albus and James, but for all the time they spent bickering and fighting and doing everything possible to get on the other one’s nerves, they were surprisingly close and more than a tad protective of each other if anyone else tried anything. Teddy could still remember the time someone had made fun of Albus for being in Slytherin and Harry’d had to leave work early because James had cast his wand aside and punched the older boy in the face and broke his nose. Potters were loyal and hot-tempered, and as Teddy was finding out, full of more insecurity than any of them ever let anyone see. He took a large gulp of coffee, welcoming the burn of the hot liquid as he wondered what else he’d missed about James by refusing to look.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him.” It was the truth, though Teddy wasn’t sure it made a difference.
Albus sucked his cheek into his mouth and chewed on it, a nervous habit he’d developed as a child. “What did you mean to do by telling him?
“Fuck,” Teddy sighed, reaching back and pulling the hood of the sweatshirt over his hair. It was only Albus, yet Teddy couldn’t stop the overpowering need to hide his hair that he knew without needing to look into a mirror was changing colors of its own accord. It’d been years since he’d been unable to control it. “I don’t know, Albus. I just...I missed him. I was avoiding visiting him for weeks even though he kept inviting me and then the other day I just needed to see him. But Marcus-” Albus made a snorting sound that stopped Teddy. “What?”
“You got jealous,” Albus said shaking his head.
“He couldn’t take his eyes off James, or his ruddy hands.”
Albus blew out a heavy breath and leaned on his elbows, narrowing his eyes at Teddy. “I will kill you if you ever tell James I said this but... everyone is like that. People have always been unable to take their eyes off him. He’s handsome and he’s funny and he’s really fucking decent, Teddy. James is a really good guy. He doesn’t deserve to be anyone’s maybe or their leftovers or last choice.”
“I know!” Teddy groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “You think I don’t fucking know that?”
“Do you love him?” Albus interrupted.
Teddy’s head shot up. “What?”
Albus rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I said, do you love him? Because James is currently trying to drown himself in the shower because he’s pretty sure you don’t. He’s got it in his head that you regret saying whatever it is you said to him last night and he’s somehow managed to convince himself you don’t even want to be his friend anymore.”
“Why would he think that?”
“Because James is an insufferable, dramatic fuck, and no matter what he says about being the greatest gift to wizarding kind since Merlin, he’s also an insecure fuck who thinks he isn’t good enough for you.”
“I need to go see him,” Teddy said immediately, pushing away from the table and rising to stand.
“What are you going to tell him?” Albus asked.
“Everything,” Teddy answered.
*~*~*~*
“James!” Teddy yelled, stumbling out of the Floo, thankful Albus had agreed to give him the password that James had changed last night to keep him out. “James!”
“Albus is a fucking traitor,” James grumbled, walking into the living room and plopping himself down on the corner of the couch. He grabbed the nearest cushion and pulled it into his lap and hugged it almost self-consciously.
“I’m sorry, Jamie.” James hugged the pillow tighter. His hair was standing up on end and his eyes looked red, either from crying or from lack of sleep. It made Teddy want to wrap him in a hug, but he didn’t think that would be welcome yet.
“What for?” James asked, watching Teddy with a measured look as Teddy crossed the room, painfully aware that he was still barefoot and in his pyjamas. He pushed the hood off his head. If there was anyone he wanted to trust with himself it was James. He could see the tips of his unbrushed hair turning bright pink and yellow.
“For everything. Well, no not everything . I’m not sorry for what I said last night, but I’m sorry for the way I said it, for making you doubt that I meant it.” When James didn’t say anything Teddy took it as permission to move closer, sitting down opposite James and folding his hands in his lap as he watched James chew on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry for spending so long pushing you away, for worrying about what everyone else might think and not giving myself two seconds to really think about what I thought. I’m sorry for acting like a jealous arsehole because you did exactly what I’d suggested you do and move on.”
“I don't like Marcus you know. Not like that. I just thought it’s what you wanted to see, to see that I’d moved on.”
“I don't think I knew what I wanted before. But I do now.”
James sat up straighter, releasing his hold on the pillow. “And what do you think, what do you want?”
Teddy's chest ached as he scooted closer, the tips of his fingers brushing across the bare skin of James’s ankle. He felt James’s answering shiver as if it were his own. “I think you’re smarter than you let on and wickedly funny and fit as fuck and I’ve spent the last year thinking about all the reasons we couldn’t be together so that I didn’t think about the reasons maybe we could.”
“ Maybe ,” James breathed, and Teddy wanted to smack himself for using that word again.
“Shit, I’m not good at this, Jamie. All I’ve ever wanted to do was stop you from getting hurt and that’s all I’ve managed to do over and over. And I can’t promise I won’t do it again, in fact I’m pretty fucking sure I will and that you’ll tell me about it loudly. And when you’re being a pain in the arse I’ll tell you too. And even knowing that it might not be easy I’d still like to try.”
“Try what exactly?” James asked. He was on his knees now, inching closer to Teddy and making the sofa cushion dip as his bony knees pressed into the side of Teddy’s thigh. He looked like he knew exactly what Teddy meant, but Teddy couldn’t fault him for needing to hear it, for needing to be sure.
“Try being Teddy and James. Together.”
“Oh, that’s - yeah . Yes.” James licked his lips, still looking unsure what he was allowed to do. He was so close, his breath ghosting across Teddy’s face, every freckle across his nose standing out, and Teddy wanted more than anything to kiss him. So he did. James let out a noise of a surprise, his hands coming up to fist in Teddy’s sweatshirt as if afraid he might pull away. James’s lips were chapped from flying, and cold, and he tasted like the peppermint toothpaste Teddy knew he liked.
“Teddy,” he mumbled into the kiss, and Teddy had heard James say his name a million times but never like that - as if his name were a gift, as if Teddy was giving James something merely by existing. It terrified him as much as it thrilled him to realize the depth of James’s feelings, and that his own feelings might run just as deep.
James’s kissed him again, holding nothing back as he let out tiny whimpers into Teddy’s mouth. It sent a thrill of pleasure through him, and he pulled on James’s hips until he climbed into Teddy’s lap. James was breathless, cheeks red and eyes bright. His chest heaved as he panted, leaning down for another kiss, but Teddy stopped him, hand on his chest. James’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What’s wrong?” James asked looking worried again.
Teddy shook his head. “Nothing. I just-” he darted forward to steal a quick kiss, delighting in way James’s eyes fluttered close. “I love you.”
James’s cheeks turned redder and he ducked his head, huffing into Teddy’s neck. “Sappy fucker,” he mumbled, and Teddy wanted to laugh because nothing, nothing made James blush - except apparently real emotion.
“Mmm, now I’ve learned how to shut you up. Plaster you with praise.”
James laughed, pulling up and shooting Teddy a glare as he playfully whacked his arm. “Stop teasing me, you fucking wanker.”
Teddy felt like he could drown in the fondness he was feeling; the way James’s eyes softened as they looked at him, the warmth of James’s skin beneath his fingertips as his thumb slipped under the hem of James’s shirt to stroke his hip, and the way James’s laughter felt reverberating against his body.
“Not teasing when I mean it,” Teddy answered. He moved his head to press a kiss to the side of James’s neck, memorizing the way James sucked in a breath and clutched at Teddy’s shoulders. “I love you,” he breathed again, feeling James shudder beneath him.
“I love you too.” James’s voice was tentative. Teddy could recall the ways James had said I love you before - as a child full of wide-eyed wonder, as a pre-teen half-joking, and lastly as a teenager, all defiance and pride as if nothing Teddy could do would change his mind. But this, this soft whisper of words, felt like a confession Teddy wanted to wrap up and keep in his pocket forever, something vulnerable and raw and more James than Teddy felt he deserved.
Teddy wanted to say many things, but he couldn’t, couldn’t put his feelings about James into words, so instead he pulled him closer until they were a tangled mess of arms and limbs and breathy whimpers and contented sighs, James’s mouth falling open in pleasure as Teddy’s hands moved down his body.
James pulled back to smile at Teddy again, breathless and flushed, and Teddy felt like he was seeing James for the first time and he never wanted to look away. In that moment Teddy saw the truth of what James meant to him, and for once he didn’t want to run from it he wanted to revel in it.
There weren’t enough words for Teddy to tell James how he loved him, but if he were lucky, there might be enough days in their lives for him to show him.