Work Text:
Professor McGonagall had warned him ahead of time that there was going to be a new student sharing their dorm. She didn't say much about him, only that he was a transfer student. She didn't say from where, and James assumed it was that he was homeschooled. He was wrong.
He went to the dormitory already half forgotten about the new bloke until he opened the door to a string of furious French as he threw things out of his trunk. James's first thought was: French? His second was: Hot. The new dormmate was French and gorgeous as all hell and James was in so much trouble because then the guy looked up at him and beamed, giving a cheerful wave.
James just stared at him. He knew it was rude not to wave back, but he couldn't get his arm to work. It was like a scrolling screen of 'HOT BOY HOT BOY' in neon letters going through his mind, and it was hard to focus on anything else with that happening, even if that meant not responding to him.
His expression faded until he was giving James a slightly confused look. "You alright?" he asked.
James was pretty sure his heart was going to beat out of his chest. "Yeah," he said. Or, tried to say, mostly it came out as a croak. He cleared his throat, then tried again. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm James."
"Sirius," he said, holding out a hand.
James half-expected to trip over his own feet in his hurry to get close enough to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you. Were you er- looking for something?" he asked, looking at the mess Sirius had made of his own belongings.
"Erm, it's-" Sirius stopped, biting on his bottom lip as he tried to think of the right words. Sweet Merlin, was he trying to kill James? He was, wasn't he? He didn't want to deal with James ogling him for an entire year, so he was doubling down at the beginning to make James's heart give out; it was going to work. Already, his chest was doing something that-- if he were older-- would make him think he was having a heart attack (but like, in a good way. A good heart attack? A feelings attack in his blood?). Sirius made a noise of frustration and pointed at James's foot. Wait no, his shoe.
"A shoe?"
"Yes!"
James glanced at Sirius's feet, and saw that nope, he wasn't wearing any shoes right now. What had he done with the ones he'd been wearing to come here? He glanced at the surrounding space, but with Sirius's clothes everywhere, it was impossible to spot.
"I have one," Sirius muttered, glaring at the shoe sitting on his bed angrily, like it was its fault that he couldn't find the match. "But not other."
"Do you want help looking for it?" James offered, even though the last thing he wanted to do was rifle through someone else's shit instead of hanging out with Remus and Peter. But there was a decent chance Sirius would turn out to be a right tosser, so James was going to enjoy all his prettiness now, while it was untainted.
Okay, Sirius wasn't a tosser. He was cute and hilarious, and James wanted to cuddle up to him and never let go. Even better, Sirius seemed to like hanging off James as much as James liked it, so there was hardly a time when they were next to each other that they weren't touching. Sirius would slide into the chair right next to him, and almost before his bottom was on the seat, he had an arm around James. Or he'd ruffle James's hair. Or, on one memorable occasion, he kissed James's cheek. James was pretty sure he'd blushed so hard so that he stopped having blood flow to the rest of his body for a good five minutes-- the miracles of the human body never ceased.
His English was getting better, but when he got angry or flustered, it's like he forgot every word that wasn't a French swear-- James knew those words before Sirius came around, and he now knew some conversational French due to their friendship. Completely unrelated, James got turned on when Sirius was flustered. It had absolutely nothing to do with the way his mouth curved around unfamiliar words, or the way he said 'fuck' like it was a proposition. Nothing at all.
"Is this- ehm- what is it- accent kink?"
James didn't move from where he was sucking a hickey on Sirius's neck. If it bothered him, they could heal it before class tomorrow so no one would see. "The thought has occurred to me," he mumbled, kissing the bruise as his hands moved lower, to the small of his back.
"So this is-" Sirius broke off, knocking his head back against the wall.
"This is me fancying you because you're bloody amazing, not because you're French. If it was ," he added, "my vacation at France last summer would've been a lot more interesting."
"Mm- fuck off."
"If you're put together enough to remember English, I'm not doing this well enough."
He gave James a condescending pat on the head. "You will get better."
"Arse," James whispered before kissing him again.
"Mais bien sûr," Sirius said against James's mouth, his lips curving into a smirk.
"Such an arse."