FIC: I COULD BE AN ACCIDENT, BUT I'M STILL TRYING
Title: I could be an accident, but I'm still trying
Rating: R. Or M. Whatever floats your boat.
Pairings: James/Sirius (one-sided love, but there is sex), James/Lily, Remus/Sirius (friends with benefits)
Length: 1,088
Warnings: Not really a happy fic.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JK Rowling's.
Prompt: Oh dear, did I step on your face again?
Author‘s Note: This was supposed to be a PWP, but I got carried away with the angst, and so the porn is there, but lacking all the details. :D So icequeenrex my love, this is your fic.
It’s not that he doesn’t like Evans, Sirius thinks, as he bounces a ball off of his bedpost. It’s just… well. He doesn’t like her. He didn’t like her when she sniffed at his awesome Dungbomb prank in first year, didn’t like her when he had pushed her up against the wall in 5th year and slid his hands up her skirt, and he certainly doesn’t like her one iota now in 7th year, when she’s taken what’s rightfully his. Not that he would ever say that out loud. He may not be a Black in name, but he still had the dignity.
And as amusing as it would have been to say it to her face, he could already imagine the horror on James’ face, the fake expression of repulsion and the shunning that would follow. The Wizarding community may be open-minded, but kids never were. And especially if the chances of getting “one true love” were threatened. Hey, James’ words, not his own. If Sirius had had any say in it, there would be only one person that James would ever look at, and it wouldn’t be Lily. But he takes what he can get, and if that means James “practising” on Sirius so that he could be “perfect” for Evans, fucking hell, he will shut up and accept it.
And James would caper along in life, with nothing more than a, “Oh dear, did I step on your face again? Sorry Sirius, I just got distracted by Lily.” And it wouldn’t matter if Sirius had been lying half-dead and gasping for air on the ground, because Lily fucking Evans was always more important.
Remus would then pick him up and dust him off and tuck him into bed, and keep a guilty-now James away from him. He would smile at him, stroke his hair and feed him chocolate that he never shared with anyone else, and they would whisper about boys, and girls and every other person they’ve fucked, in between.
In the perfect world, he and Remus would love each other, and Remus’ shaggy brown hair, shy smile and big brown eyes would do more than fill him up with love for a brother. And the saddest part is watching Remus thrust up against him, trying his hardest to form the words “Sirius” with that red, red mouth, but always, always slipping to another cherished name instead. Sirius ignores it, just as Remus ignores how Sirius comes while screaming James’ name. He may not love Remus like that, but he sure as hell loves him. Sometimes he wonders why people think that James and Sirius are the best friends; if Sirius had to pick one favourite from his three best friends, it would be Remus. Because Remus knew exactly where he stood, and would take as much as he would give, and because Remus never ever used Sirius’ love for him, against him.
Sirius was startled out of his monologue as the door slammed open, and James strode in. Sirius appreciatively ran his eyes over the other’s tall, built figure, knowing that the lust was blatant on his face, and that James knew it as well. The latter swiftly moved into Sirius’ bed, and flicked the curtains shut around them, leaving only a bit open, Sirius’ face the only thing could be seen from outside the bed.
He tilted his head up, free access to his neck and jaw line, arms sliding up James’ chest and over his back. Chuckling, he bit back a whimper as James nibbled the skin on his pulse point. “What’s the occasion?” James ignored him and slid his hands down to palm Sirius’ ass through his pants, the latter wriggling closer to the contact and lifting his hips as hands pushed his pants down. Another zipper sounded, and two pair of pants hit the bottom of the bed. Sirius automatically rolled over, face turned towards the open curtain and he watched the door through half-lidded eyes and hissed as James used slick oil-covered fingers to massage him open till he was loose. One finger, two, three, and Sirius’ fingers clenched uselessly at the sheets on the bed as a spasm rocked his body, his muscles clenching. A moan vibrated from James’ body into his own, all the way to his prostate, all of Sirius’ willpower used in an effort not to turn around and kiss James’ gorgeous, plump lips - to lick his way in and map the roof of his mouth. There was nothing James hated more than to be reminded that it wasn’t a girl he was fucking, so Sirius lay still on his stomach, while he knew James made that irresistible face, probably red with lust, eyes dark and hair more tousled than usual.
Sirius felt James bend his head closer to his ear, and he wrenched his eyes open by sheer force, pleasure rocking every pore in his body. He wordlessly clawed in the air when James tilted his hips at an angle, his prostate crowing and toes curling, hot, heavy breath against his ear.
“I proposed, and she said yes.”
Sirius felt his world end. The colours around him: the reds of love, the gold of honour and the tan of James’ hand next to his head, bracing, all faded into grey, as all feeling left his body and all he could feel was a dull pain as James continued pounding into him. He barely felt himself breathing, an ache in his eyes as he stared straight ahead. He barely noticed the door opening until Remus was standing a foot away from him, still in the clothes he had gone on a date in, face enraged and concerned, and Sirius knew he had heard the news.
Remus took another step forward, until he noticed the hand near Sirius’ head, and the small rocking motions his bed was making, and Sirius noted detachedly, that he had never seen the wolf so close to the surface, so far away from the moon. And Sirius knew that if he gave the slightest indication, Remus would rip James to shreds, and that there would be no more problems, just comforting arms and murmured reassurances.
Instead, Sirius closed his eyes as James stilled above him, and there was hot, hot liquid in him, and on his thighs and dripping onto the bed, and a “Lily”, was breathed into his ears, and all he could do was feel the tears running down his cheeks and the sound of Remus’ angry breathing.
Rating: R. Or M. Whatever floats your boat.
Pairings: James/Sirius (one-sided love, but there is sex), James/Lily, Remus/Sirius (friends with benefits)
Length: 1,088
Warnings: Not really a happy fic.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JK Rowling's.
Prompt: Oh dear, did I step on your face again?
Author‘s Note: This was supposed to be a PWP, but I got carried away with the angst, and so the porn is there, but lacking all the details. :D So icequeenrex my love, this is your fic.
It’s not that he doesn’t like Evans, Sirius thinks, as he bounces a ball off of his bedpost. It’s just… well. He doesn’t like her. He didn’t like her when she sniffed at his awesome Dungbomb prank in first year, didn’t like her when he had pushed her up against the wall in 5th year and slid his hands up her skirt, and he certainly doesn’t like her one iota now in 7th year, when she’s taken what’s rightfully his. Not that he would ever say that out loud. He may not be a Black in name, but he still had the dignity.
And as amusing as it would have been to say it to her face, he could already imagine the horror on James’ face, the fake expression of repulsion and the shunning that would follow. The Wizarding community may be open-minded, but kids never were. And especially if the chances of getting “one true love” were threatened. Hey, James’ words, not his own. If Sirius had had any say in it, there would be only one person that James would ever look at, and it wouldn’t be Lily. But he takes what he can get, and if that means James “practising” on Sirius so that he could be “perfect” for Evans, fucking hell, he will shut up and accept it.
And James would caper along in life, with nothing more than a, “Oh dear, did I step on your face again? Sorry Sirius, I just got distracted by Lily.” And it wouldn’t matter if Sirius had been lying half-dead and gasping for air on the ground, because Lily fucking Evans was always more important.
Remus would then pick him up and dust him off and tuck him into bed, and keep a guilty-now James away from him. He would smile at him, stroke his hair and feed him chocolate that he never shared with anyone else, and they would whisper about boys, and girls and every other person they’ve fucked, in between.
In the perfect world, he and Remus would love each other, and Remus’ shaggy brown hair, shy smile and big brown eyes would do more than fill him up with love for a brother. And the saddest part is watching Remus thrust up against him, trying his hardest to form the words “Sirius” with that red, red mouth, but always, always slipping to another cherished name instead. Sirius ignores it, just as Remus ignores how Sirius comes while screaming James’ name. He may not love Remus like that, but he sure as hell loves him. Sometimes he wonders why people think that James and Sirius are the best friends; if Sirius had to pick one favourite from his three best friends, it would be Remus. Because Remus knew exactly where he stood, and would take as much as he would give, and because Remus never ever used Sirius’ love for him, against him.
Sirius was startled out of his monologue as the door slammed open, and James strode in. Sirius appreciatively ran his eyes over the other’s tall, built figure, knowing that the lust was blatant on his face, and that James knew it as well. The latter swiftly moved into Sirius’ bed, and flicked the curtains shut around them, leaving only a bit open, Sirius’ face the only thing could be seen from outside the bed.
He tilted his head up, free access to his neck and jaw line, arms sliding up James’ chest and over his back. Chuckling, he bit back a whimper as James nibbled the skin on his pulse point. “What’s the occasion?” James ignored him and slid his hands down to palm Sirius’ ass through his pants, the latter wriggling closer to the contact and lifting his hips as hands pushed his pants down. Another zipper sounded, and two pair of pants hit the bottom of the bed. Sirius automatically rolled over, face turned towards the open curtain and he watched the door through half-lidded eyes and hissed as James used slick oil-covered fingers to massage him open till he was loose. One finger, two, three, and Sirius’ fingers clenched uselessly at the sheets on the bed as a spasm rocked his body, his muscles clenching. A moan vibrated from James’ body into his own, all the way to his prostate, all of Sirius’ willpower used in an effort not to turn around and kiss James’ gorgeous, plump lips - to lick his way in and map the roof of his mouth. There was nothing James hated more than to be reminded that it wasn’t a girl he was fucking, so Sirius lay still on his stomach, while he knew James made that irresistible face, probably red with lust, eyes dark and hair more tousled than usual.
Sirius felt James bend his head closer to his ear, and he wrenched his eyes open by sheer force, pleasure rocking every pore in his body. He wordlessly clawed in the air when James tilted his hips at an angle, his prostate crowing and toes curling, hot, heavy breath against his ear.
“I proposed, and she said yes.”
Sirius felt his world end. The colours around him: the reds of love, the gold of honour and the tan of James’ hand next to his head, bracing, all faded into grey, as all feeling left his body and all he could feel was a dull pain as James continued pounding into him. He barely felt himself breathing, an ache in his eyes as he stared straight ahead. He barely noticed the door opening until Remus was standing a foot away from him, still in the clothes he had gone on a date in, face enraged and concerned, and Sirius knew he had heard the news.
Remus took another step forward, until he noticed the hand near Sirius’ head, and the small rocking motions his bed was making, and Sirius noted detachedly, that he had never seen the wolf so close to the surface, so far away from the moon. And Sirius knew that if he gave the slightest indication, Remus would rip James to shreds, and that there would be no more problems, just comforting arms and murmured reassurances.
Instead, Sirius closed his eyes as James stilled above him, and there was hot, hot liquid in him, and on his thighs and dripping onto the bed, and a “Lily”, was breathed into his ears, and all he could do was feel the tears running down his cheeks and the sound of Remus’ angry breathing.