Chapter Text
"Meet me in the hallway
I just left your bedroom
Give me some morphine
Is there any more to do?"
- H.S.
The air was cool and biting around Sirius’s face from where he stood on the balcony of his room at Potter Manor. He’d been wearing James’s rugby jumper from his new team at school when he’d walked outside. But Sirius hadn’t been able to bear the guilt he felt at receiving its warmth.
He didn’t deserve James’s warmth. Or his love. Or his affection.
Now the thick cotton felt coarse between his hands as he stared off into the wood surrounding the house.
Christmas at the Potter’s had been lovely. It had been a dream come true. A fucking fantasy.
Christmas at the Potter’s was full of warm hugs, kind words, and delicious food that quite honestly burned Sirius’s mouth in ways he couldn’t explain but loved. Oh how he loved James. He loved his smile, his laugh, the way he found everything Sirius did completely fascinating.
He loved the way James’s mum called him darling, pinched his cheek because she said he was too thin, and how she tried so hard to make a milder version of her homemade masalas and biryani for his sensitive tastebuds but failed every time. How James and his dad would sit on the other side of the table, muffling their giggles when Sirius's nose running and face flamed but he determinedly finished it all. How Ms. Effie would complain about how it really must be a British defect because she didn't think the food was hot at all, but she'd always bring out his favourite ice cream as a peace offering next.
He loved how James's dad heard Sirius say he hated football one summer when he was thirteen, but rather than look aghast like everyone else had, he asked why. How he didn't judge when Sirius quietly confessed he didn't understand the sport because his parents never let him play sports much less watch them but he didn't want the other boys to know. How Fleamont took him to the garden that night while James and Peter were with Ms. Effie and taught him all the rules and how to play. How he never never complained when Sirius nervously asked if they could practice dribbling and the like. And how he payed for all of Sirius's equipment when he made the team the next year.
Which is why he couldn’t stay.
“Hey you,”
Sirius shut his eyes at the sound, trying to steel himself. His fingers tightened around the railing and jumper, knuckles whitening. He didn’t turn.
Then James’s hands found him. Gentle palms landed at his hips, then slid slowly around to the front of his shirt, pulling their bodies flush together. The heat of James’s chest against his back nearly undid him.
“Maa’s looking for you. She wants to know if you’ve ever seen Star Wars. I told her you had.”
A soft kiss landed on Sirius’s cheek. He barely managed not to flinch away.
“You have seen Star Wars, right?”
“Yes, I’ve seen Star Wars, Jamie. Remus made me watch it during sixth form.” He summoned all his strength and reached up to gently tug at James’s arms. “But, actually, I need to—”
“Brilliant. That’s what I thought.”
James let him pull their hands apart, but he misunderstood Sirius’s intent because he then intertwined their fingers when turned Sirius around, one hand finding his hip, and his beautiful hazel eyes searching his face.
Sirius hated how easy it was to melt into the gesture.
James’s hazel eyes sparkled with mischief and warmth.
“And you’ve seen all of them? You know, the new ones they’ve just made as well? Personally, I’m partial to the middle—er, earlier ones? I mean, technically they’re the later, but I mean those three from like the nineties or something? I mean, who could expect a bloke say no to Ewan McGregor, am I right?”
“Jamie—” Sirius couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, though he desperately tried to cover it with a scoff. James was infectious, even as he fought to resist him.
The other boy grinned, pinching his side lightly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. You know you’re the only bloke for me.”
His stomach sank right to the fucking floor.
“Oh…am I?”
The question was honest, one he hoped James would deny. But James, ever the affectionate, didn’t.
“Of course. Poor Ewan lost his chance the second you stole my shoes from my knapsack in Mrs. Pritchet’s class.”
“That was nine years ago, Jamie.” He sighed, dread pooling in him.
“That’s precisely the point, Siri. Nine years and still you’ve my heart, entirely.” He bit his lip and looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he lifted the one of Sirius’s hands he was holding and brought it to his face, pressing a kiss into the knuckle before lowering it. On anyone else the gesture might have been awkward, but on James . . . he could hardly look away.
“I know this term’s been hard. Being apart from each other. It’s not what we might have wanted. And you know I hate being away from you. If I could change things I’d be with you at Oxford in a heartbeat. But my parents met at Cambridge, and they want me to be there. And I…”
“I know,”
Sirius cut in before James could say more. The look in his eyes was too earnest, and Sirius just knew he was about to ruin everything.
“I know, James. You belong at Gryffindor. You’re brilliant there, just like we always knew you’d be. They’re lucky to have you and Remus.”
“I love you.” James smiled and Sirius couldn’t breathe. The words hitting harder than they’d ever before.
“I love you and you get me and I get you and I know distance is hard for people—and I know it’s been hard for us, but you get it.” His palm found Sirius’s pale face but rather than comfort him, it made him feel cold.
“And what’s a few years anyhow? Right? We graduate quickly and your mum will be pleased. You’ve continued the Black line at Slytherin College, I’ll finish the Potter line at Gryffindor.” He waggled his brows conspiratorially, like it was all a little joke between them. Sirius supposed it was to James. His parents’ home was one of love and laughter. All they wanted was for James to be happy and James thought it was a romantic idea for him to follow in their footsteps.
Sirius’s family was different. Their legacy was ancient and one of duty.
According to them, he could never even look at another place besides Slytherin. The Blacks had been going there since perhaps the 17th century. Sirius was fairly confident his mother would sooner see him die than attend anywhere else. And Regulus would be expected to go there as well in a few years. But James didn’t see it like that.
For a while, Sirius hadn’t seen it like that either.
“And then it won’t matter where we are. I think you can learn to be a barrister from anywhere and I don’t really care where I get my certification for medicine as long as I can become a doctor. So, you know I’ll follow you. Or you me. We could go anywhere. It’s just two years away, and then it’s just us.”
It was so easy when you were around James Potter to be hopeful. To look on the bright side and imagine the possibilities are endless. James’s parents were brilliant, and kind, and they always told the boys to aim for their dreams. When they were at Hogwarts, constantly together, it was hard not to.
When most people occupied the centre of attention, it meant others were left in their shadow. For someone to be so deeply important, it was necessary for someone else to feel excluded.
But James wasn’t most people. He commanded attention like it was as natural as breathing, but in everything he shone back on others. His mum always called him her little drop of sunshine, but Sirius had always thought it was true. He lit the world up and made everyone feel so warm and wonderful. If James said it were possible, you had no other option but to believe.
And believe, Sirius had.
“Jamie stop.” The words escaped Sirius in a tight, cracking breath as he pulled his hand away and tried to step back. But the balcony behind him offered no retreat—his back collided with the cold stone railing, halting him. His eyes widened slightly, breath fogging in the winter air as he stared at James.
They’d all known James and Remus were applying to Cambridge—they’d practically been talking about it since they were twelve. Peter wanted to head to Durham where his brother was. And no one ever asked Sirius where he wanted to go, they all expected they knew. Which is why he had enjoyed so deeply the thought of surprising them. Just imagine, the boys arriving in September to think they’re all parted for the first time and then—WHAM! I walk through the door and unlock the spare room on their hall with a wave and a muttered “alright, neighbours?” He could picture the fantasy even know. How excited they would all be at the prospect. How James’s laughter would ring out as he declared this the greatest prank in Marauder history. It had been a bloody brilliant plan.
And then he’d ruined in.
Sirius had gone to his annual meeting with his career advisor and told him everything, as they were meant to. In his defence, Doctor Slughorn had always been one of their preferred professors. And a lot of students preferred having him as their advisor too because he was constantly offering to find the boys connections or references if they needed. Sirius had thought it would be the perfect opportunity. Slughorn would probably salivate at the chance to help one of the Black Brothers break the status quo and go to somewhere different!
How was he to have known the man wouldn’t approve? That he’d encourage Sirius to his face but phone his parents in London the minute he left the office. Sirius hadn’t spoken to them in nearly 14 months, but that evening his mother was yelling on the phone at him for an hour in the Dean’s Office. Because the thing with Cambridge and Oxford was, you could only apply to one. The thing with Walburga Black was, she’d never even considered the thought of letting her sons make a decision for themselves. And the thing about Slughorn and she together is they had all the documents necessary to make the decision for him.
Thanks a lot, UCAS.
“What?” James’s brows drew together, the lightness from earlier still twinkling, but his voice was unsure.
“Just—stop. Stop it. I can’t do this.” He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Sirius felt like the air was being sucked from his lungs as the forever smile of James’s face faded into a confused frown.
He wanted him. So desperately did Sirius want theirs to be a happy ending. But he was tired and this wasn’t real. None of this was real. It was all simply some dream state he got to live in during the holidays, but in a few days he’d be back. He’d be alone.
He would be standing in his room all alone. And he’d be cold. And Evan Rosier would probably come knocking on his door to see if he wanted to go to the pub and Sirius would say yes. Because he did. And then he would spend the evening drinking his feelings as he listened to the boys shout and flirt with girls when all he wanted to do was talk. Or listen. Or be.
But to do that, someone would have to ask him a question. And Sirius hated questions. But he also loved them because they reminded him that Jamie cared. But it wouldn’t be Jamie asking the question, it would be Barty or Evan, or if he was unlucky Lucius, and Sirius didn’t want their questions or care.
He didn’t want new friends.
He liked his friends just fine. Their names were Peter and Remus and Jamie. But also not Jamie because James wasn’t a friend, he was a boyfriend—and wasn’t that the problem?
It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t fucking matter.
But Sirius was just a few months into the next few years and Slytherin was not like Hogwarts. At school, he’d been a Black, untouchable. He’d gotten top marks in all his classes, the professors loved him, he was captain of the music club, and he was a marauder which meant everyone wanted to be him. When James and he started dating the only people they’d been nervous about were their roommates. But Peter was the most nonchalant guy he knew, and Remus had simply asked them to take the weeknight snogging to James and Peter’s room so he could study. The rest of the student body hadn’t cared much—they went to an all boys boarding school, after all—and the professors were too terrified of James’s parents suing or pulling donations to put up a fuss either.
It had lulled him into a sense of security. A belief that maybe the world was changing. Maybe his parents were not only wrong about their beliefs, but they might someday come around too.
Oxford was different.
Sirius pressed a hand to James’s chest, attempting to create distance, to reclaim oxygen, but the boy was larger than him from years of playing rugby and he didn’t budge, his hand returning to Sirius’s side almost instinctively.
“What are you talking about? You can’t do what?” James’s voice dipped, threaded with nerves. He licked his lips in that same nervous tick Sirius had known from him since they were eleven. “Moving in together? Siri, it’s years away. And even then, that’s fine. We’ll take our time. I can live with Peter again or you with Remus, I mean we’ll figure it out, but—”
“No.” The single word came with force, and Sirius’s voice rose as his hands pushed harder against James’s chest. “Please, stop it. I can’t do this. This. Us. I can’t do the moving in together. I can’t do the following to another city. I can’t do the waiting. I can’t do the distance Jamie.”
The frown that had hovered over his face collapsed into something blank and unreadable. He allowed Sirius to push him backward, a single step retreating into silence. For a long moment, neither of them moved.
“I don’t— What are you saying?” James began, his voice quieter now, hollow.
For a moment then, Sirius eyes absorbed the man in front of him every way they could. He drank in every feature from the wonderfully tan skin he got from his mother to his dad’s hazel eyes—the wiry frames around them—and his messy hair. He wanted to memorize every piece of him, knowing this might be the last time he had any right to.
Breathing got harder then, because James was lovely. He was beautiful, and kind, and far too good for Sirius in any way he could imagine.
“I think we should break up.”
James had been staring somewhere lower—Sirius’s mouth, maybe his throat, he hadn’t paid attention—but his eyes shot up to meet Sirius’s in a sharp, sudden movement at that.
“What?”
“I think we should break up.” Sirius forced the words through his teeth. Each syllable felt like glass. “It’s too much. I can’t do this.”
James’s face fractured into movement—eyebrows drawing tight, lips parting and closing, nostrils flaring. An entire encyclopaedia of emotion cycled through him in seconds: shock, anger, desperation, betrayal.
“You think we should—what the hell does that even mean?” he asked, voice rising. “Break up? We can’t break up!”
Sirius shut his eyes. Please don’t make me say it again.
“James, we can. We are.” He opened his eyes again, meeting James’s stare. “I’m sorry. It’s not working. I’m not happy. I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to be in a relationship with you.”
“You can’t keep doing this?” James echoed, incredulous. “Don’t do this! We’re not—you can’t—you can’t just decide we’re breaking up!”
“But I can.”
James’s fists clenched at his sides. His voice cracked, a raw edge now cutting through the confusion.
“This is a bloody conversation, Sirius! There’s two of us here. Don’t I get some say in it, dammit? I’m part of this. I am an equal part of this relationship. You can’t just decide that I’m done too.”
Sirius inhaled sharply, jaw tightening.
“I’m not happy,” he said, flatly now. Forcing his face into something bland—detached. “If you want the truth, I think I got rather caught up in you, James. In the idea of you. Us. It was all well and good at Hogwarts. Y’know? Getting to snog the rugby captain in the middle of the pitch when you’d all won a tourney. Kicking Peter out so I could sneak into your dorm. Who the fuck says no to an opportunity like that—and with my best mate? I mean, why not?”
James flinched, literally and Sirius pushed on, hating himself.
“It was fun, I know. The attention was brilliant, the games we played. You’re a fucking good lay. And I didn’t hate the idea of being yours for a bit. But—come on, we’re at university. It’s been like four months apart now. Aren’t we a little overdue for growing up?”
“Don’t say that,” James whispered, glancing out over Sirius’s shoulder like he couldn’t meet his eyes. “Don’t do that. Don’t make this like it’s nothing.”
Sirius crossed his arms, forcing his voice into steel as he began the lies he’d been concocting all week. “We’ve gone to visit each other once since term started. Once, James. And what—you want to pretend that we’re fine? You spend half the night fucking calling me to tell me about the weather cause you don’t want to be alone with yourself. I mean, I don’t want to spend my uni years glued to my phone because my long-distance boyfriend has latched onto me like a bloody leach. You’re ridiculously clingy, did you know? Because I’m not. That’s not who I am. I can’t deal with that.”
James’s expression wavered—devastated, desperate. “I’m sorry, Siri—I didn’t mean to— I can stop. I’ll change—I, we’re just getting started. I thought we’d both been needing to talk. I missed you. I thought you missed me. I didn’t mean to make you—”
“Well, you thought wrong,” Sirius cut in, his tone like ice, even as he cursed himself. No, you didn’t. You didn’t at all. I miss you like a fucking limb, Jamie. I always will. “I want to see other people. This is too much. You’re too much. I want to figure out who I am without having to check in with my boyfriend from school every day. I want something else.”
James’s voice cracked. “So that’s it?”
“You’re family to me,” Sirius said coolly, and this is the part he’d dreaded almost the most. Probably because it had the most truth to the lie. “You’ll always have a special place in my memory. I can never repay you for helping me the way you have all these years. I owe your parents my life for taking me in when my mum…but I can’t love you in that way anymore, James. I don’t want to and I don’t think you want to either.”
Sirius took a stiff breath, forcing him to look James in the eye and nod. “I’m going back early. I booked my ticket for tonight and I already packed. Tell your parents thank you, from me. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
He turned before James could respond. If he didn’t, he knew he’d falter.
“You already—Sirius—wait, please.”
James stepped forward but he didn’t reach for him when he started walking. Not this time.
Sirius didn’t turn around. He walked back inside. The warmth of the room hit him like a slap. It made his eyes sting.
He walked to his bag with quiet determination, every step feeling like it cost more than the last. He was packed, as he’d done an hour ago when he’d come up to shower. Everything he’d brought was already tucked away. Sirius looked down at his fingers, where they were curling slightly around that Gryffindor red jumper James had lent him this morning.
He threw it in his bag and closed the flap.
Outside on the balcony, he knew James hadn’t moved.
He could see him, standing there in disbelief, motionless and likely freezing from the cold. Sirius wondered if James was waiting for him to come back, whether he thought he’d change his mind and say it was all a big joke—a mistake.
Sirius wished it was.
But that door stayed shut.
And when he opened the one to the hall and went through, Sirius didn’t come back.