1 fic, no challenge
Title: But uh-oh those summer nights
Summary: A follow up to a summer piece.
Characters/Pairings: James/Sirius
Genre: Sort of fluffy
Rating/Warnings: PG for ambiguous sobriety and boysnogging
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 2072
"Stop moving," came James' sleep-slurred instruction, offered without bothering to open his eyes.
"'M not your teddy bear... flouncy-haired ponce," Sirius mumbled in reply, adjusting his head upon the pillow of James' arm.
James' breath slowly, cyclically, warmed his hair, despite the fact that his head was nearly tucked under James' chin. His curled arm was draped about Sirius' middle, the skin of his bare arm against Sirius' shirtless torso provided little contrast to thin fabric of James' white t-shirt. Sirius' skin was starting to wake up, slowly reacquainting himself with their surroundings. They were on the ground. Well, not quite the ground. The thin nylon sleeping bags were cheap and muggle-made, but managed to smooth along the inconsistencies of the sand beneath them. Still, they'd likely been laying like this for too long - or at least Sirius had. He should have followed James' prerogative and stripped down to his shorts, but as it was, denim had grown stiff from lack of movement and the salt air.
"Where are your cigarettes?" Sirius asked, shifting about to push himself up, eliciting a disgruntled sound from James and a bit of reactionary settling.
"Dunno. Where're my jeans?" he answered, resolutely refusing to open his eyes.
It took a moment of bleary glancing around for Sirius to find James' haphazardly discarded clothes. They were up beyond James' head, but it took James ages to regain proper use of his limbs so Sirius sat up and leaned over the other boy. James rolled onto his back to diminish the obstruction his torso provided. Yet the necessary reach still exceeded Sirius' grasp, sending his first attempt tumbling over James.
"The fuck're you doing?" James grumbled after releasing a grunt of displeasure, his hand reaching up to give the back of Sirius' head a chastizing swat.
"Fuck off," Sirius yawned as he waved off James' hand, not bothering to be gentle as he pushed himself off James.
Unless there was food immediately crammed into his mouth, James Potter wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine when he first woke up. It was a disposition with which Sirius was plenty familiar, so he simply ignored it as he wedged one knee between James' legs to avoid literally crawling atop the other while his fingers plucked through the pockets of James' jeans. The best sort of cigarettes were the kind they sold on the corner of Diagon and Knockturn, they lit themselves as soon they touched a person's lips. Satisfied in his quest, Sirius pulled out one for himself. It sprang to life as he drew back to his seat straddling the leg beneath him and dropped James' jeans.
"You still drunk?" James inquired, pulling his hand over over his face and blinking his eyes open before extending it toward Sirius, his fingers parted expectantly. His voice likely would have sounded scratchy if he'd been speaking plainly, but morning conversations compelled James' softer baritone.
Sirius shook his head as he took a drag, then slipped the cigarette into James' gasp. On the final whisps of smoke passing his lips Sirius answered, "Not really. You?"
"Only a little," James shrugged. One hand tucked behind his head, James was the embodiment of an insouciant pose - still rumpled with sleep, his eyes barely focused, hair flat on one side, and seeming quite content to let Sirius continue perching across his thigh.
Sirius couldn't actually tell if he was still drunk. They'd turned into the tent, though when they had, there had been a couple of girls with them, just as the sky was starting to lighten. It was too cold and the light too soft for it to be late in the morning. Well, not that he was cold. It just wasn't hot yet. The only sound was the crashing against the beach and a few gulls overhead, all of it muted by the thin arches of blue and white that comprised the small muggle tent.
"There were girls..." Sirius recalled, letting the implied question hang in the air.
"They went out" James nodded. "To get breakfast. They'll be back in a little while."
Sirius didn't yet have the motivation to properly get up and amble outside the tent. In fact, the lure of acceptable bedding and James' body heat was proving remarkably strong. Too many nights had the Marauders spent holed up with each other for sleeping in close proximity to be the least bit strange, and more than once Remus had compared James and Sirius to a sprawl of puppies with too-long limbs piled atop each other like they didn't realize they were swiftly outgrowing the box they'd been birthed in. Which was hypocritical crap, because Remus was the exact same way, only Remus was batty enough to wake up before everyone else and thus appeared far more mature than the rest of the pack. It spoke to something deep and ambiguous in Sirius' gut, to be smashed against someone who'd protect you while you slept, who'd keep you warm, and who expected the same from him. That's what real loyalty was.
A lazy grin drew across Sirius' lips and James was passing the cigarette back to him. James was looking at him, but without his glasses on, who knew just how much of Sirius he could actually make out.
"You have fun?" Sirius prompted.
"I always have fun," James smirked.
That was certainly the truth. James had a sweet sort of charm most girls went nuts for. (Sirius had a knack for finding the girl who had something sordid she needed to get out of her system- sometimes with another girl in tow along for the ride.) James would interject a bit of muggle poetry into the ridiculously cocky things that came out of his mouth, or let them go swimming in his soulful eyes until they were pouring themselves into his lap, dreaming about summer-long romances and hearts surrounding 'JP' drawn in the sand. Nevermind that in two weeks, or two days, James' interest would amble along to the next incarnation of Venus and he'd be falling in love with a new girl all over again. Sirius thought James just happened to like falling in love. He certainly did it often enough for the both of them.
"We should just buy a beach house, you know?" James thought aloud. His parents had a beach house, James meant a Marauder beach house. "Lay on the beach all morning. Parties at night. Go surfing in the afternoon." Neither one of them had ever actually tired surfing. "I bet I'd be great at it."
Few people ever caught the tongue-in-cheek undertone to such comments, and Sirius was pretty sure James liked it that way. It made nearly every other thing out of his mouth some kind of private joke. It was one of the few things that Peter had sorted out quicker than Remus, something that never ceased to amuse Sirius.
"Drop out of school, pick up the guitar, grow our hair real long?" Sirius grinned over a chuckle.
"Yeah," he nodded, clearly approving.
Seemingly after a moment of consideration - which was a little ridiculous because James never gave any outward expression of premeditation - James' hand was lifting off of Sirius' knee, drawing Sirius' attention to the fact that he hadn't noticed when it had wandered there. It reached up, the angle of his fingertips inclining Sirius' head to lean toward James' touch, thinking it was hardly unlikely that his hair had caught up some stray piece of driftwood. But when James' fingers tangled in his hair, it seemed more that James was simply musing what Sirius would look like with longer hair. It was longer than James' as it was. Trapping a few locks in his grasp, James stroked from root to tip, evoking a gentle tension that seemed powerful enough to coax his tresses into lengthening on the spot. There was some kind of... canine-brain-stem association that rang so similar to having his ears scratched.
"You sure you're not drunk?" James asked, his voice lower again.
It was like there was something serious lingering under that question. However, Sirius never had to long consider whether or not to tell James the truth.
"No, I'm good," he replied.
James' hand continued entreating Sirius' hair, Sirius' eyes slipping about half-way closed. Definitely going back to sleep was the best possible plan. His cigarette still sat in grasp, largely untended. Of its own accord his back was starting to curl forward when James' hand settled along the nape of Sirius' neck and was drawing him much closer.
And then his lips collided with James'.
While James put up a good front of acting impulsively, he really rarely did. That was Sirius' forte. James considered - quickly, most of the time - and weighed his options before he acted. Most of the time, anyway. Sirius was uniquely talented at putting off evaluating much of anything so long as it felt good at the moment. And it felt good. His lips were warm and sweet and fuller than they looked. When his tongue pulled along the seam of Sirius' lips, Sirius' mouth opened without hesitation. It was sweet, which wasn't what he was expecting. It was lazy and luxuriating, but when Sirius brought his teeth into the mix, James responded in kind. More than in kind. Lazy became insistent. The grip in Sirius' hair tightened, prompting his hips to hitch a little higher, to press down against James'. He could have sworn he felt James' breath catch in his chest for just a moment. Sirius was about to repeat the motion, to see if he could get James' breath to stutter into his mouth, when James was pushing, twisting, and then it was Sirius who was on his back.
Sirius' empty hand dove into James' hair, the other absently attempting to prevent himself from melting the tend down around them. Part of Sirius wondered if it ought to be weird. He'd kissed Remus before, but that was because that girl from Ravenclaw had a thing about boys snogging. That had been tactical, though. Fuck if he knew why, but she found the whole thing so delightful she'd barely waited till they found a bit of privacy in the Tower before she'd been plying his belt buckle open. Maybe it'd been different because he'd completely blindsided Remus. Or because he wasn't doing it just because it felt good. Or because he'd worried later that it would bother Remus. With James, nothing felt unnatural. It was easy. Intuitive. This could never happen again and it wouldn't change a bloody thing. Or they could keep at this for hours and still, it wouldn't change a bloody thing. He drank down James' thick sigh before nipping a bit fiercely at the lower lip of the boy whose body was proving surprisingly sinuous in its movement. This wasn't rushed, or frantic - not that Sirius had really thought about it before, of course - it was just... hungry. But James was never one for rushing through anything he was enjoying. Sirius' hand had traversed the length of James' back, and just dipped under the worn cotton of his shirt when faint voices came wafting through the air.
James stilled, if a bit gradually.
"Breakfast," he mumbled against Sirius' lips.
Food sounded good. But staying as they were also seemed pretty fucking appealing. One of the girls laughed, their voices drawing closer. Okay. So maybe there were other things to consider. James seemed about to push himself off of Sirius when he came back to brush his lips across Sirius'. Nice touch, Sirius couldn't help but note with a wry smile as the pleasant weight of his best friend left his body. The general effect left him just a little... dazed. But in a pleasant sort of way. Letting himself relax a bit, he heard James pulling on his jeans more than he actually saw the event occur.
This... this was going to be an amusing day.
"Sirius, I think you're setting the tent on fire," James mentioned with a wicked sort of smirk before disappearing through the opening of the tent.
The observation had sense jerkily snapping back into Sirius' limbs, yanking his hand away from the bunched up sleeping bag and jolting him into an upright seated position. Oh. It wasn't that bad. Just a small little burn through soft slippery purple, instead of turning their little shelter into some kind of smoldering death trap. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to smoke inside the tent, Sirius concluded, slipping the cigarette between his lips and made his way toward the open flap.
Lara//Slytherin
Summary: A follow up to a summer piece.
Characters/Pairings: James/Sirius
Genre: Sort of fluffy
Rating/Warnings: PG for ambiguous sobriety and boysnogging
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 2072
"Stop moving," came James' sleep-slurred instruction, offered without bothering to open his eyes.
"'M not your teddy bear... flouncy-haired ponce," Sirius mumbled in reply, adjusting his head upon the pillow of James' arm.
James' breath slowly, cyclically, warmed his hair, despite the fact that his head was nearly tucked under James' chin. His curled arm was draped about Sirius' middle, the skin of his bare arm against Sirius' shirtless torso provided little contrast to thin fabric of James' white t-shirt. Sirius' skin was starting to wake up, slowly reacquainting himself with their surroundings. They were on the ground. Well, not quite the ground. The thin nylon sleeping bags were cheap and muggle-made, but managed to smooth along the inconsistencies of the sand beneath them. Still, they'd likely been laying like this for too long - or at least Sirius had. He should have followed James' prerogative and stripped down to his shorts, but as it was, denim had grown stiff from lack of movement and the salt air.
"Where are your cigarettes?" Sirius asked, shifting about to push himself up, eliciting a disgruntled sound from James and a bit of reactionary settling.
"Dunno. Where're my jeans?" he answered, resolutely refusing to open his eyes.
It took a moment of bleary glancing around for Sirius to find James' haphazardly discarded clothes. They were up beyond James' head, but it took James ages to regain proper use of his limbs so Sirius sat up and leaned over the other boy. James rolled onto his back to diminish the obstruction his torso provided. Yet the necessary reach still exceeded Sirius' grasp, sending his first attempt tumbling over James.
"The fuck're you doing?" James grumbled after releasing a grunt of displeasure, his hand reaching up to give the back of Sirius' head a chastizing swat.
"Fuck off," Sirius yawned as he waved off James' hand, not bothering to be gentle as he pushed himself off James.
Unless there was food immediately crammed into his mouth, James Potter wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine when he first woke up. It was a disposition with which Sirius was plenty familiar, so he simply ignored it as he wedged one knee between James' legs to avoid literally crawling atop the other while his fingers plucked through the pockets of James' jeans. The best sort of cigarettes were the kind they sold on the corner of Diagon and Knockturn, they lit themselves as soon they touched a person's lips. Satisfied in his quest, Sirius pulled out one for himself. It sprang to life as he drew back to his seat straddling the leg beneath him and dropped James' jeans.
"You still drunk?" James inquired, pulling his hand over over his face and blinking his eyes open before extending it toward Sirius, his fingers parted expectantly. His voice likely would have sounded scratchy if he'd been speaking plainly, but morning conversations compelled James' softer baritone.
Sirius shook his head as he took a drag, then slipped the cigarette into James' gasp. On the final whisps of smoke passing his lips Sirius answered, "Not really. You?"
"Only a little," James shrugged. One hand tucked behind his head, James was the embodiment of an insouciant pose - still rumpled with sleep, his eyes barely focused, hair flat on one side, and seeming quite content to let Sirius continue perching across his thigh.
Sirius couldn't actually tell if he was still drunk. They'd turned into the tent, though when they had, there had been a couple of girls with them, just as the sky was starting to lighten. It was too cold and the light too soft for it to be late in the morning. Well, not that he was cold. It just wasn't hot yet. The only sound was the crashing against the beach and a few gulls overhead, all of it muted by the thin arches of blue and white that comprised the small muggle tent.
"There were girls..." Sirius recalled, letting the implied question hang in the air.
"They went out" James nodded. "To get breakfast. They'll be back in a little while."
Sirius didn't yet have the motivation to properly get up and amble outside the tent. In fact, the lure of acceptable bedding and James' body heat was proving remarkably strong. Too many nights had the Marauders spent holed up with each other for sleeping in close proximity to be the least bit strange, and more than once Remus had compared James and Sirius to a sprawl of puppies with too-long limbs piled atop each other like they didn't realize they were swiftly outgrowing the box they'd been birthed in. Which was hypocritical crap, because Remus was the exact same way, only Remus was batty enough to wake up before everyone else and thus appeared far more mature than the rest of the pack. It spoke to something deep and ambiguous in Sirius' gut, to be smashed against someone who'd protect you while you slept, who'd keep you warm, and who expected the same from him. That's what real loyalty was.
A lazy grin drew across Sirius' lips and James was passing the cigarette back to him. James was looking at him, but without his glasses on, who knew just how much of Sirius he could actually make out.
"You have fun?" Sirius prompted.
"I always have fun," James smirked.
That was certainly the truth. James had a sweet sort of charm most girls went nuts for. (Sirius had a knack for finding the girl who had something sordid she needed to get out of her system- sometimes with another girl in tow along for the ride.) James would interject a bit of muggle poetry into the ridiculously cocky things that came out of his mouth, or let them go swimming in his soulful eyes until they were pouring themselves into his lap, dreaming about summer-long romances and hearts surrounding 'JP' drawn in the sand. Nevermind that in two weeks, or two days, James' interest would amble along to the next incarnation of Venus and he'd be falling in love with a new girl all over again. Sirius thought James just happened to like falling in love. He certainly did it often enough for the both of them.
"We should just buy a beach house, you know?" James thought aloud. His parents had a beach house, James meant a Marauder beach house. "Lay on the beach all morning. Parties at night. Go surfing in the afternoon." Neither one of them had ever actually tired surfing. "I bet I'd be great at it."
Few people ever caught the tongue-in-cheek undertone to such comments, and Sirius was pretty sure James liked it that way. It made nearly every other thing out of his mouth some kind of private joke. It was one of the few things that Peter had sorted out quicker than Remus, something that never ceased to amuse Sirius.
"Drop out of school, pick up the guitar, grow our hair real long?" Sirius grinned over a chuckle.
"Yeah," he nodded, clearly approving.
Seemingly after a moment of consideration - which was a little ridiculous because James never gave any outward expression of premeditation - James' hand was lifting off of Sirius' knee, drawing Sirius' attention to the fact that he hadn't noticed when it had wandered there. It reached up, the angle of his fingertips inclining Sirius' head to lean toward James' touch, thinking it was hardly unlikely that his hair had caught up some stray piece of driftwood. But when James' fingers tangled in his hair, it seemed more that James was simply musing what Sirius would look like with longer hair. It was longer than James' as it was. Trapping a few locks in his grasp, James stroked from root to tip, evoking a gentle tension that seemed powerful enough to coax his tresses into lengthening on the spot. There was some kind of... canine-brain-stem association that rang so similar to having his ears scratched.
"You sure you're not drunk?" James asked, his voice lower again.
It was like there was something serious lingering under that question. However, Sirius never had to long consider whether or not to tell James the truth.
"No, I'm good," he replied.
James' hand continued entreating Sirius' hair, Sirius' eyes slipping about half-way closed. Definitely going back to sleep was the best possible plan. His cigarette still sat in grasp, largely untended. Of its own accord his back was starting to curl forward when James' hand settled along the nape of Sirius' neck and was drawing him much closer.
And then his lips collided with James'.
While James put up a good front of acting impulsively, he really rarely did. That was Sirius' forte. James considered - quickly, most of the time - and weighed his options before he acted. Most of the time, anyway. Sirius was uniquely talented at putting off evaluating much of anything so long as it felt good at the moment. And it felt good. His lips were warm and sweet and fuller than they looked. When his tongue pulled along the seam of Sirius' lips, Sirius' mouth opened without hesitation. It was sweet, which wasn't what he was expecting. It was lazy and luxuriating, but when Sirius brought his teeth into the mix, James responded in kind. More than in kind. Lazy became insistent. The grip in Sirius' hair tightened, prompting his hips to hitch a little higher, to press down against James'. He could have sworn he felt James' breath catch in his chest for just a moment. Sirius was about to repeat the motion, to see if he could get James' breath to stutter into his mouth, when James was pushing, twisting, and then it was Sirius who was on his back.
Sirius' empty hand dove into James' hair, the other absently attempting to prevent himself from melting the tend down around them. Part of Sirius wondered if it ought to be weird. He'd kissed Remus before, but that was because that girl from Ravenclaw had a thing about boys snogging. That had been tactical, though. Fuck if he knew why, but she found the whole thing so delightful she'd barely waited till they found a bit of privacy in the Tower before she'd been plying his belt buckle open. Maybe it'd been different because he'd completely blindsided Remus. Or because he wasn't doing it just because it felt good. Or because he'd worried later that it would bother Remus. With James, nothing felt unnatural. It was easy. Intuitive. This could never happen again and it wouldn't change a bloody thing. Or they could keep at this for hours and still, it wouldn't change a bloody thing. He drank down James' thick sigh before nipping a bit fiercely at the lower lip of the boy whose body was proving surprisingly sinuous in its movement. This wasn't rushed, or frantic - not that Sirius had really thought about it before, of course - it was just... hungry. But James was never one for rushing through anything he was enjoying. Sirius' hand had traversed the length of James' back, and just dipped under the worn cotton of his shirt when faint voices came wafting through the air.
James stilled, if a bit gradually.
"Breakfast," he mumbled against Sirius' lips.
Food sounded good. But staying as they were also seemed pretty fucking appealing. One of the girls laughed, their voices drawing closer. Okay. So maybe there were other things to consider. James seemed about to push himself off of Sirius when he came back to brush his lips across Sirius'. Nice touch, Sirius couldn't help but note with a wry smile as the pleasant weight of his best friend left his body. The general effect left him just a little... dazed. But in a pleasant sort of way. Letting himself relax a bit, he heard James pulling on his jeans more than he actually saw the event occur.
This... this was going to be an amusing day.
"Sirius, I think you're setting the tent on fire," James mentioned with a wicked sort of smirk before disappearing through the opening of the tent.
The observation had sense jerkily snapping back into Sirius' limbs, yanking his hand away from the bunched up sleeping bag and jolting him into an upright seated position. Oh. It wasn't that bad. Just a small little burn through soft slippery purple, instead of turning their little shelter into some kind of smoldering death trap. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to smoke inside the tent, Sirius concluded, slipping the cigarette between his lips and made his way toward the open flap.
Lara//Slytherin