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James was sitting on the couch pretending to read the assignment for History of Magic. When he'd opened the book, he had every intention of trying to read the passage, but the seat was so comfortable and the fire was all nice and warm, and they'd had a Quidditch game only two weeks ago-- he was still thinking about the good and bad of that game, instead of reading like he was supposed to. But anyways, there he was, minding his own business not doing his homework, and Sirius decided to interrupt that.
It was a single armchair that he was sitting in, but Sirius had never let that stop him in the past couple years, and he wasn't going to start now. He wiggled between James and and the edge of the chair, sticking one leg between James's lap and the book. "What're you doing?"
"I was doing my homework for Binns."
Sirius snorted, shifting and scooting around until he could lay his head on James's shoulder. "You're a bloody liar, Prongs. What were you thinking about?"
"The match against Ravenclaw," he admitted, because there was no point in really trying to lie to Sirius.
"Mm. Let me guess, you have new ideas for practice."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just that you're trying to make us the best team ever," Sirius said lightly, pressing a kiss to James's jaw.
See, if they were together, gestures like that would be perfectly normal. As it was, they were still commonplace, even if they weren't earned. What had James done to deserve a kiss? Absolutely nothing, but Sirius was kissing his skin anyways. James was accustomed to it enough that he didn't jump, but his heart beat louder in his chest, more insistent that James pay attention to what was going on-- as if there was any chance of him ignoring it. "Is that so? Cause it sounded like you were whinging."
"I would never," Sirius lied, and James rolled his eyes before leaning to rest his cheek on top of Sirius's head; if it was there, he might as well use it.
They had just graduated from Hogwarts, and James was eating oatmeal blindly as he read an article in The Prophet about the Harpies-- they'd been having a very good year, and they were pitched to go to the World Cup for Britain if things kept up the way they were-- and Sirius leaned down, kissed the corner of his mouth (currently devoid of food, thank Merlin), and sat down next to him. "You're about to get oatmeal on the table," he noted, so James put the spoon back in the bowl instead of letting it list from a numb grip. A five hundred point swing? That was just embarrassing.
"Aw," Mum cooed, pinching Sirius's cheek lightly, "aren't you the sweetest? One of these days, James will have to make an honest man out of you."
"There's a full time job," James muttered absently.
"I'm not sure he'd be up for the challenge anyways, Mrs. Potter," Sirius said with a smirk.
James flipped down the edge of the newspaper and glared at him. "I could do it."
"Sure you could, Jamie," Sirius said, patting his hand. He scanned the table. "Are we out of brown sugar?"
"I could've sworn we had some," Mrs. Potter said, getting to her feet to search the cupboards. "James, did you eat it all?"
"No." He put the paper back up, blocking Sirius's smug face from view.
"Be nice to your boyfriend," she chided.
"He's not my boyfriend."
"Mmhmm," she said, clearly not believing him. "Perhaps it was your father, he was up and down with breakfast before any of us made it to the table. And for heaven's sake Sirius, you really should call me Mum. 'Mrs. Potter' makes me feel so old."
"You are rather old, Mum," James said, and Sirius swat the back of his head.
"She feeds me, be nice to her."
"Sorry Mum!"
"I don't know why you boys insist on telling me you aren't when you'll kiss in front of me, but whatever makes you happy, I suppose." She sort of said it under her breath, and with James distracted as he was, he probably didn't hear her. Sirius did, and he was happy that James wasn't looking at him, otherwise he would have seen his blush and thought to question it.
"Uh huh," James said, leaning closer to the paper and squinting like it would change the words.
Sirius gave Mum a shrug when she looked at him for an explanation. James listened when he felt like it, and not a moment more. Most of the time, he listened when Sirius talked, but that was probably because Sirius had taken to sitting on him and tugging his hair when he didn't get proper responses; Mum wouldn't resort to that, but if she wanted to, she'd just ask Sirius to lend her a hand since it was easier that way. Besides, she hadn't said as much to her boys, but she thought there was nothing Sirius could ask that James would not immediately give.
James definitely should have known that when Sirius locked the door, it meant that he didn't want anyone coming in. He also should have known that the reason he couldn't hear Sirius's music or voice or anything else was because there was a silencing charm up. Unfortunately, James was really hungry and needed to see if Sirius wanted anything for a late night snack, and he wanted that answer twenty minutes ago, so he wasn't thinking about the reason behind locked doors when he tried Sirius's room.
He tried the knob, met with the resistance of a lock, and cast an unlocking spell automatically. "Hey Sirius, what do you-" he started to say as he was opening the door. Then the situation caught up with him and he froze. Because Sirius wasn't blasting his punk music. He wasn't practicing putting on makeup. He'd been wanking, and at the unexpected intrusion, all he'd been able to do was half pull the side of the duvet over his crotch.
"What the- why would you-" Sirius stopped trying to put together words. The flush on his cheeks was rapidly turning into a full body blush, and it occurred to James that he now knew that Sirius blushed everywhere, not just his face. He didn't quite know why he noticed that, but he now had the information logged away. Sirius took a deep breath, not looking anywhere near him. "The door was bloody locked for a reason."
"Yeah."
"I wanted a bit of privacy."
"Yeah."
"James?" Sirius asked, and his voice was a little rough sounding from- erm- what he'd been doing, and it made James feel a little lightheaded.
"Yeah?"
"This is the part where you leave, and we both pretend like this never happened."
"I could erm, give you a hand?" James found himself saying.
"Bloody hell, get out!" Sirius yelled, grabbing a random object from his nightstand and throwing it at the doorway. Sirius had been a beater, so his aim was good; James had been a Chaser, so he caught the object-- a candle, apparently-- without thinking about it.
Leaving was rather the last thing James wanted to do, but he left because that's what Sirius wanted. He closed the door, then leaned up against it faintly, holding the candle tight against his chest like it could answer the questions he couldn't voice. Then again, maybe the candle could answer his questions, because he straightened, then turned on his heel and knocked on the door.
It took several seconds-- and he was pretty sure he heard the thump of Sirius falling on the floor-- but the door opened to one very flustered Sirius with a blanket wrapped haphazardly around his middle. "What?" he snapped.
"The offer was er genuine. If you were. Y'know. Concerned about that."
"What?"
"What what? You're the one always- always touching me and kissing me. I always thought it didn't mean anything, but it totally does, doesn't it? Mum thinks we're dating, and you don't do this with Moony or Wormtail, it's just me; that has to mean something. Erm, right? I mean, it does mean something to you?"
"I- you- this is ridiculous! You can't interrupt me while I'm jerking off and then- bloody- confess your love or whatever the hell it is you're doing."
"I mean, no, that's not really what I was doing, but I can start doing it if you want to hear it."
Sirius looked at him like he wanted to punch him in the teeth. "You can't- you- for fuck's sake, James! Are you trying to drive me mad? Because this is how you do that," he said, then slammed the door shut.
Well. Guess that was a no. He should probably leave, only he was frozen in place. He'd had a massive realisation, confessed, and been rejected, all in the span of about thirty seconds. That had to be some sort of record.
Then the door opened and Sirius grabbed a fistful of shirt and yanked him in the room. The door closing again-- this time with both of them on the proper side-- was something of an afterthought. "You are so bloody stupid," he whispered, and then he was kissing James, and that was much better. If the kiss was a bit desperate and messy, well, James had interrupted him when his passions were high. "You had better mean it, James," he said quietly, both of them panting in the quiet air. "I've been arse over kettle for you for years, and I can't be a-" Sirius swallowed thickly, looking pained "-a mistake for you. I need for you to mean it."
"How dare you assume I ever make mistakes," James said, and he was actually on his way to being offended when Sirius laughed-- relieved and giddy-- and kissed him again. Oh alright, he could always question Sirius about these supposed 'mistakes' later on. For now, he had more important business. Namely, finding out if Sirius's arse felt as good as it looked.
It did.