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Lily couldn’t pint-point when it started. James had always been an affectionate person; she’d see him snuggled into his friends’ sides on the couch; he hugged every person he said hello to and often his arm would be slung over whomever he was walking with.
But he had never been affectionate with her. Not until recently anyway.
Lily’s friends would not have described her as physically affectionate. She’d grown up in a household where the most affection received was a pat on the shoulder. Lily wasn’t even sure she’d ever seen her parents kiss before. So naturally, the more prudish side in her deplored any physical displays of affection, even platonic ones.
Perhaps that’s why he didn’t initially extend his love of physical affection to her. People seemed to realise she didn’t like physical touch, as though she had a big neon sign on her head saying ‘DO NOT TOUCH.’ Which suited her just fine as it kept away unwanted advances. However, sometimes Lily couldn’t help but think that if she could have someone touch her, she’d want it to be James Potter.
And it was as though he had read those private thoughts, the ones that crept up on her from the deepest recesses of her mind. Spending more time with one another in their capacity as Head Boy and Head Girl meant that she and James had naturally grown more comfortable with each other. So, Lily didn’t mind when he slung his arm around her shoulders as they made their way to class together, or when he grabbed her hand and pulled her through the corridors to show her something he was excited about.
It had become such a normal part of their relationship and although she enjoyed it, she didn’t read too much into it. Afterall, James was just an affectionate person by nature.
Which is what she told herself anyway. But lately, it seemed like there was something behind the soft smiles and gentle touches; hands that lingered a second longer than necessary; hazel eyes that held hers for a heartbeat too long and a warmth that never quite left her stomach when James was close.
She tried not to read into it. They had a history of course – Lily knew he’d liked her back in fifth year. The many elaborate declarations of “Oi Evans, go out with me?” that she received were a bit of a giveaway. But in sixth year James had finally dropped the joke, and they had slowly become friends.
And being friends was fine with Lily. Great actually! She was happy they were friends. And the warmth she felt in her stomach whenever he touched her didn’t mean anything more than that she was happy to have a friend.
These thoughts had been swirling around Lily’s brain for the passed few days and continued to consume her as she sat on the couch in the Head common room that she shared with James. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice James stirring from his nap, even with his head in her lap.
James had come in from quidditch practice, hair damp from the change room showers and had promptly collapsed on the couch next to her, exhausted from training. Before long Lily had found her lap commandeered for a pillow and James had promptly fallen asleep.
Lily was pulled from her thoughts when she felt James’ hand on her arm, which moved down until it found her own hand. Lily rolled her eyes as the boy, whose own eyes were still closed, picked up her hand and placed it in his hair.
“You know, anyone would think you’re a cat, which how much you enjoy people patting you,’ said Lily, her amusement clear in her voice as she began to sift her fingers through his messy locks.
“Please,” James scoffed, his voice thick with sleep as he blinked up at her. “Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy playing with my hair.”
“It is soft,” Lily mused, feeling the strands between her fingers.
“Mmm,” murmured James as his eyes slide closed again. “Sleazky’s conditioner, it works a charm.”
Lily laughed quietly, unsure if James was going to drift off again. She had long stopped being amazed at how quickly he could fall asleep anywhere, anytime.
She looked down at his face; his glasses sat crooked on his nose, making him look slightly skewed. His long, dark lashes brushed his cheeks and she tried not to feel jealous of them as she considered her own stubby light ones. His lips were thin and pink, slightly pulled to the left, which she knew made his smile slightly crooked and charming. His jaw was sharp, covered in a fine bristle of dark hair. Lily knew that James hated shaving and although he couldn’t quite grow a full beard, his cheeks were often covered in a light scruff.
Lily found herself wondering what it might feel like under her fingers, her own face warm. But before she could continue that train of thought, she realised her leg was going slightly numb. She shuffled slightly to relieve it a bit before he fell too deeply asleep again.
“All right Evans?” he asked, eyes opening as he lifted his head slightly. He didn’t seem to notice her red cheeks.
“Fine, just going a bit numb.”
“Oh, I can get off if you’d like,” he said, already beginning to move.
“No!” said Lily a bit too forcibly before pushing him back down gently. “I mean it’s fine, the feeling is coming back now.” She didn’t want to admit how much the enjoyed the closeness and the comforting weight of his head on her lap.
“Oh, okay,” said James, settling back down. “Actually Evans, McKinnon told me some interesting things about you the other day. But I don’t know if I believe them.”
“Best not,” said Lily with a snort as she thought about what her friend may have said. “Ninety percent of what comes out of that girl’s mouth is rubbish. What did she say this time?”
“She said that you hate people touching you. Like really hate it. It was the strangest thing,” he replied, his eyes still closed. She could hear the teasing curiosity in his voice, like he didn’t quite believe what he was saying, but was asking anyway.
“Um,” mumbled Lily, not quite sure what to say. She didn’t want to lie, but for some reason telling the truth felt too important, like there was a gravity to it. If she told James that she didn’t like people touching her, would he stop? If she admitted that she only liked him touching her, what would he think? She hadn’t quite figured out what that meant herself, but she felt like admitting it placed meaning behind it, meaning that she didn’t know how to address.
“Lily?” James prompted.
She could feel his gaze on her face as she avoided making eye contact. “Well,” she said, still avoiding looking at him. “Strictly speaking I am not big on it.”
“Oh?” he asked.
“Oh.” She confirmed, willing her blush to disappear.
“Do you- Do you mind when I, you know? Touch you?”
Lily didn’t answer, determinedly looking anywhere but at the boy in her lap.
“Lily?” James twisted himself up so he could face her properly. “Does it bother you when I touch you?” he asked. Lily could hear the hesitation in his voice.
She swallowed hard. “No,” she replied quietly, turning to face him. “No, I don’t mind.”
He stared at her softly, a slow smile spreading across his face. Lily’s breath hitched. He was so close. She could see the specks green in his eyes, the scattering of freckles across his nose, the incisors that peaked out slightly over his bottom lip. He was so close and so warm, and Lily felt like she was trapped, his soft smile placing her under a spell she didn’t quite know the counter-curse for.
James huffed out a laugh and suddenly the spell was broken. He twisted around and flopped back onto her lap. Lily blinked, unsure of what just happened and why her heart beat was still thumping loudly in her chest.
“Well that’s good,” he said, flashing her an upside down grin. “Because I quite like being affectionate with my friends. And besides,” he said, once again picking up her hand and placing it on his head, “we’ve already established how much you enjoy playing with my hair.”
“Did we establish that?” asked Lily, dragging her hand through his hair, nonetheless. James didn’t answer her but closed his eyes and groaned low in his throat as her hands continued their ministrations. Warmth flushed through Lily at the sound.
“It’s a privilege to touch my hair you know,” he continued after a few moments. “It is my greatest asset after all. Not to mention a valuable advertisement for Dad’s company.”
“You clearly should have it insured,” replied Lily dryly.
“Hmm I tried, but Mum just called me daft and threatened to shave it off.”
“Now that would be a look,” laughed Lily.
“A tragedy you mean,” said James seriously. “Besides, if she shaved it off, you wouldn’t be able to play with it. Which is your favourite thing to do.”
“Again, I am not sure when that was established,” protested Lily.
“You didn’t need to say it, I can see the adoration and joy in your face every time you touch my hair.”
“I’ll give you adoration,” Lily muttered before giving his hair a quick tug, making James yelp in surprise.
“Merlin Evans, you can’t just pull a bloke’s hair with no warning!” he grumbled indignantly. “I told you it’s precious cargo. And some guys might think you have nefarious intentions with all that hair pulling.”
“Oh?” said Lily, eyebrow lifting. “And what nefarious intentions might those be?” she asked, resuming carding her fingers through his inky hair.
“Well, if you must know,” he said, his eyes sliding closed once again. “Some blokes like it when a bird pulls their hair, gets them all excited. Not me of course - I’m too pure - but some blokes. And I would never suspect your intentions to be so nefarious.”
“Really?” snorted Lily. “Blokes like it when you pull their hair huh? And James Potter is too pure for it. Who would’ve thought?”
James chuckled in response.
“Besides,” said Lily, her pulse quickening. “Who said I don’t have nefarious intentions?”
She wasn’t sure what compelled her to do it. Maybe it was because she was feeling happy and comfortable as she sat on the couch with James. Maybe it was because it had been months of feeling her stomach drop every damn time he slung his arm around her or grabbed her hand. Or maybe it was because of the way he had looked at her when she admitted that she liked him touching her, all soft smiles and happiness. Whatever it was, she held on to it as she firmly and deliberately pulled on his hair again.
James’ eyes flew wide open with shock as he met her gaze. His eyes scanned her face, trying to read her expression as Lily felt her cheeks go red.
He abruptly twisted up and off her lap so he could face her properly, still not saying anything as he looked at her. The longer he was silent, the redder Lily got as she looked down at her hands, feeling the embarrassment crawling its way up her throat. What was she thinking, pulling his hair like that? He was probably thinking of a way to reject her without upsetting her. So he’d liked her once? Doesn’t mean he did anymore. And he was affectionate with all his friends, it didn’t mean anything different when he did it with her. Besides, she wasn’t even sure if she wanted it to mean anything more. Stupid, stupid, stupi-
“Lily?”
Her spiralling thoughts disrupted, Lily looked up at James, her breath hitched, and her fears dissolved when she caught his expression. It was open and soft again; he looked hopeful and disbelieving and nervous and happy all at once.
Lily smiled softly, her expression mirroring his own. “James,” she replied quietly.
He moved closer, so close she could feel his breath on her lips. Could smell the soap on his skin from his shower. Could almost count the freckles on his nose. He reached up and cupped her face gently with his hand.
“Lily,” he breathed and suddenly she understood. He was waiting for her.
She closed the gap between them, pressing her lips softly to his. He kissed her lightly, his mouth moving tenderly against hers. It was slow and sweet, and Lily could feel the warm in her stomach spreading across her body he moved closer to her, pushing her into the back of the couch slightly. One of her hands rested on his chest, feeling his heart beat wildly under her palm.
One of his hands snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to him, and she gasped as her body was pulled flush with his. He kissed her harder now, his mouth insistent against hers. His body was warm and hard, his mouth hot and Lily got lost in the feel of him against her. She realised that she had wanted to feel this for a long time, to have him this close, to have him touch her like this.
The hand on her face moved around to the back of Lily’s head, and she moaned quietly when James suddenly tugged on her hair. She felt James’ mouth curve upwards, and pulled back slightly, resting her forehead on his.
Lily tried to steady her breathing as she looked at James; his face was flushed, his lips slightly swollen and his eyes bright. He looked happy and thoroughly wrecked. Lily felt a thrill go through her as she realised she was the one who wrecked him.
James laughed quietly, shaking his head slightly.
“What is it?” Lily asked, surprising herself when her voice came out low and breathy.
“Turns out I’m not the only one who likes having their hair pulled,” replied James with an equally low voice, a small smirk lingering on his mouth.
“I thought you were too pure to like having your hair pulled?” asked Lily, moving back slightly to quirk an eyebrow at him.
“And I thought you didn’t like it when people touched you,” rebutted James. His smirk grew as he cupped Lily’s face and she leaned into it contentedly.
“I said I didn’t mind when it's you touching me,” she sighed, revelling in the feel of his hands on her skin, his body pressed against hers, his warm breath on her face.
“Well, that’s good, because I am about to do it again,” he smiled, leaning towards her.