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James's eyes landed on him, and the first thought in his eleven year old head was 'He's going to be mine someday'. Aloud, he asked his parents, "Who's that?" as he pointed across the station to the other boy.
"It's not polite to point James," his father said, and James dutifully dropped his hand to the side, staring up at him as he waited for an answer. Fleamont glanced through the crowd. "I don't know him or his parents personally, but I believe he's from the French wing of the Black family."
"I thought they were all bad?"
"Where did you possibly hear that?" Fleamont asked, and James blinked. Right, he'd been eavesdropping, but he couldn't exactly admit that without getting in trouble even though he was on his way to Hogwarts and wouldn't be home for months.
He gave a noncommittal shrug. "At a party, I think?"
Both of his parents peered at him like they didn't believe that answer, but neither of them called the lie out for what it was. "No, I wouldn't say that they are all bad. If you're going to be nice," she gave him a pointed look as she stressed the word, "then you can talk to him on the ride to Hogwarts."
"I will be, bye!" He started to leave, then turned around and gave them quick hugs before waving goodbye and taking off again.
James found him a bit later, on the train, and he joined his compartment without asking for permission.
The other boy looked at him, and James was very pleased to note that his eyes were just as pretty as the rest of him. "Yes?"
James smiled widely and held out his hand. "I'm James Potter."
He blinked before extending his own. "Sirius Black. Pleasure to meet you." Yep, French. James had been there a few times, and never before had their accents been so endearing.
James's grin got wider, and he shook his hand vigorously. "Nice to meet you, too. We're going to be best mates," he declared.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, amused. "We are?"
"Yep, just wait and see."
James pounded on Sirius's door, beyond annoyed that his supposed best friend had kissed him and then ran off like that. He hadn't even given James a chance to kiss him back! What if he thought James was a terrible kisser now and never wanted to do it again? He read an article in Witch Weekly that said the first kiss was an indication of how the entire relationship would go. According to what just happened, their dates would be boring and lackluster, and they'd never make it past a month. James had just fucked up the best relationship of his life, and all because he hadn't been able to kiss Sirius back in time. "Sirius, let me in!"
"Dégage!" Sirius shouted back, and James scowled at the door.
"That's not very nice," he called back.
"Go away James! I don't want to talk to you."
"Well that's too bad, because we're gonna talk!"
"Va te faire enculer."
"No. Now shut it and open the door!"
"No!"
"Sirius, I swear to Merlin I will break this door if I have to, but I am getting in there." He paused, then added, "Or you can come out here, but either way, you don't get to escape this."
"I can and I will!" It was a good thing his French accent was all but gone, otherwise James just might cave and wander away to have a sad wank in peace. Instead, he was here, at Sirius's door, trying to knock some sense into him.
James grit his teeth. He wanted to blast open the door, but, well, that would destroy the door, and he was pretty sure his parents would get mad at him for that. "Sirius, stop being such a bloody wanker and talk to me!"
Sirius stayed silent, but James could perfectly imagine the way he was forming French curses silently around his mouth-- which is what he always did when he got upset but had to be quiet. He'd always wondered if Sirius would do that during sex, but at this rate he would never get to find out.
"Fine!" he shouted, giving the door an angry kick. "Then I'll talk. Sirius, I love you. I- I fancy you, and I hate that our first kiss is going to be something you did on accident and then ran away from. We both deserve a better first kiss story than that, but you didn't really ask me what I thought did you? You didn't even-" he growled in frustration "-you didn't even give me a chance to kiss you back! So if you locked yourself in there because you think I'm shite at it, you should open up so we can try again because I'm really not that terrible at it."
A pause, then the lock clicked and Sirius opened the door a sliver. "You fancy me?"
"Everyone but you knows. And- well, now you know too."
The door opened wider, to show Sirius with a confused frown. "Everyone? Even Moony?"
"Er yeah. He's known pretty much since the moment I met him."
"Fils de pute," Sirius muttered, dragging a hand down his face. He cleared his throat and stepped aside, letting James in his room. He closed the door, then leaned against it, blushing. "Moony knew I fancied you, and he listened to me whinge for hours without ever mentioning that you felt the same."
James blinked. "I'm going to kill him."
"Well, yes, but maybe we can ignore that for a minute and try to get a better first kiss?" he offered with a smirk.
"You only get one first kiss," James said, but he stepped into Sirius's space willingly.
"Like you said, you didn't kiss back. I'm not sure it counts at all, you know?"
"You make a compelling argument," he said, leaning up to kiss him, and it was all of his fantasies only better.
A few weeks later, he learned that yes, Sirius did curse in French during sex. And, well, if James teased Sirius more than strictly necessary just to hear it, no one had any proof.