Fic: What's Mine is Yours (R/J, NC-17)
This fic has twisted and distorted horribly from it’s humble beginnings as a PWP. I’m very sorry. Many, many thanks to minnow_53 and liadlaith for the read-through. And, just, sorry again.
Title: What’s Mine is Yours
Pairing: Remus/James, Remus/Sirius, James/Lily
Word count: 3861
Rating: NC-17
Summary: There are some things in life that you never expect.
Disclaimer: Not mine
What’s Mine is Yours
You don’t expect your best friend to betray you.
#
Sirius Black was telling another one of those lewd, crude jokes again, and James smiled indulgently at his best friend, mouthing the over-told words along with him, which made Peter start to snicker well before the punch-line had been reached.
James also kept one ear on his girlfriend, who was busy excitedly relating to Remus the details of the flat she and a friend had managed to secure themselves in London. Whatever was going to happen to them all, James thought, it was easy to be happy and excited, lying in the grass on a beautiful summer day like this one.
Lily leaned her head back against James’ chest, but she was clutching Remus’ arm, her face alive, eyes lit up and sparkling. ‘-only five minutes from James’ flat! So we’ll be close, but not too close!’ James kissed the top of her head gently, though he’d heard her news already.
Sirius, having finally finished his joke, rolled his eyes at Lily, because distance didn’t matter when they were all perfectly capable of Apparating.
‘It’ll be wonderful, won’t it?’ Lily continued. ‘Not that there’s anything wrong with staying with your parents for a bit,’ she added hurriedly, for the benefit of Remus and Peter. ‘Are you really going all the way back up North, Remus?’
‘Well,’ he said, voice faltering slightly.
‘Actually, Remus is going to live with me,’ Sirius interrupted smoothly.
James merely blinked, as his warm, summer world froze around him.
#
James’ world was nothing but a series of lazy, sloppy kisses, a mouth that was warm, wet and welcoming sliding hotly against his own. Propped up on one elbow, own hand cupping own cheek, he was stretched languidly along his bed, Remus’ body mirroring the position, lips working carelessly against James’.
It had started with the recently-familiar flash of annoyance; Sirius’ more uncontrolled behaviour (tolerated because of his problems, but now close to unbearable) getting yet again out of hand. When Sirius had finally passed out there had been jokes and mimicking, and the moment of clarity revealed to James that if they couldn’t give Sirius the good kicking that he sorely needed, what he actually needed were some rules.
Anyway, James had pointed out that Remus couldn’t even kiss the back of his own hand properly (as they mocked Sirius’ womanising), and turning to show Remus how it worked had been one of those things that felt normal in a stoned and drunken haze. And it could hardly be a bad thing because Remus was good once he got going. It often felt a bit like he was being choked slowly with his friend’s tongue, but it was actually quite an appealing way to be kissed, and it felt hot and good and somehow right. Remus smelt familiar, and of whisky and dope, and he smiled against James’ mouth every time Sirius snorted in his drunken slumber.
‘Can we’ve another?’ James murmured between Remus’ lips.
‘None left, a’ gone. Could’ve a fag though,’ Remus replied, pushing his tongue in further to remind James just how much easier it would be to simply stay lying down and continue.
‘Mm,’ James sighed, nuzzling his tongue into the wall of Remus’ cheek, having never noticed how soft an area that was before. Because you hardly snog people that often. True enough, he supposed. Mmm, a strange, slick wetness, but soft and fleshy too. He wondered why Sirius was so hung up on further things when kissing was so good and easy.
‘C’mon, then.’
James groaned and wrenched himself half up, before giving in and flopping back.
‘Jamie!’
‘Uhhh. Glasses?’ Remus had insisted he take them off, because the corners dug in, apparently. James had pointed out that girls didn’t complain about that, but Remus had felt the need to remind him that he had very little experience of girls, except Amy Trent-Smith that time for a dare and his cousin Susan at a wedding when he was thirteen.
Remus pulled him up by the arms, pressing another kiss to his lips, before replacing his spectacles for him. ‘Thanks.’
Remus opened the window of their round tower-room and let the soft, fresh night air rush in and James staggered up to lean out and drink some in. ‘Share or one each?’ Remus asked, already rolling.
‘Eaches.’
‘Kay,’ he replied, sounding, to James’ ears, strangely disappointed. Remus swiped a quick, damp lick along the paper, and James couldn’t help but lean in to slide their tongues together again. Remus smiled quite coyly when he finally pulled away.
James curled into the window-seat and took the first cigarette, realising suddenly why Remus had wanted to share. He lit it quickly, then offered it over while the next was being rolled, pushing his fingers to Remus’ soft, wet lips and feeling them tighten as he inhaled.
They tangled their legs across one another’s and smoked quietly, occasionally swapping cigarettes. Leaning over for a kiss would be too much effort, so instead they shared damp, cardboard filter-tips and slow, lazy smiles.
#
After the next full-moon, Remus was extra sore. James could tell this from the careful, awkward way he held himself, the slow, delicate pace he walked at, the hesitancy of his smiles. This, of course, was precisely what that strange Muggle substance was for, to soothe his aching bones, though hell-knew what Dumbledore would have done to them if he knew Remus ever shared it.
Luckily the others were off with their girlfriends, so James dragged Remus to the top of the West Tower, and they huddled out there, below the lip of the parapet because the wind was fearsomely strong. James almost left when Remus said ‘how romantic’ to the package containing bread and chicken legs and cake and a bottle of red wine that he’d brought, but it seemed like an innocent enough joke, so he stayed.
James had planned to wait, until they were drunk and stoned again -all dilated pupils and wine-purpled lips- but the bitten-dry skin of Remus’ mouth stained after the first sip and when he started licking chocolate-sticky crumbs from his fingers, James leaned in instinctively.
Remus had been expecting it, surely, blushing after he’d said the word romantic, and his eyes all flickery-everywhere. And he didn’t even tense as James kissed him, never mind push away, just slid his chocolatey tongue against James’.
Again it was all far too easy. They let the kisses incorporate themselves naturally into their evening, passing wine between their lips, sharing marijuana-smoke breaths, stroking chocolate-iced fingers over each other’s tongues. Remus would choke with laughter, cough wine down James’ front, and James would happily lick the excess from their chins.
And it was all very natural, not like girls. Girls were confusing, strange things; all perfume and false giggles, artificial-flavoured lips and mouth and skin, and James couldn’t imagine that he’d ever understand them. Close-to, Remus smelt like Remus, and tasted of what he’d eaten, which was absolutely fine with James.
#
It was all very new to James, to be so close to Remus.
Sirius had gone wild, or rather, wilder, now he was suddenly parentless, was rude to classmates and teachers alike, and strode around the school as if he owned it. James knew that maybe it was his job, as best friend, to sort him out, but it seemed like such an effort, especially when he was glad of the peace to just be with Remus.
Remus had always been different, and they’d always treated him differently, even when they didn’t mean to, and James found he and Sirius, and even Peter, often felt very separate from Remus. But now it was James and Remus who were close, and they would let Sirius show off all he wanted about all the girls he’d had, how far he’d got with them, then when he and Peter went off with their girls, it would just be James and Remus for the evenings.
Remus would have them doing homework, but James didn’t mind, because with curtains closed they could kiss between sentences, and Remus was delightfully easy to distract.
Remus, wolf-like, enjoyed having his belly scratched, and a brief tickle of fingers and nails was enough to make him lean his head back, arching his spine contentedly, and he would bare his neck invitingly, submissively. That was James’ cue to nuzzle and lick the length of Remus’ throat, venturing the occasional bite because it made Remus twitch and his eyes would go feral and animalistic, as if the wolf were being threatened.
#
One evening, dressed for bed (due to the mudslide that had been the school grounds earlier), James noticed the strangeness of Remus’ feral look, the bright burn within it, and, more simply, the thickness of his cock as it nudged the waist-band of his cotton pyjamas. It was weird that such lazy, aimless kissing could excite Remus, but James let his belly-scritching hand drift lower and over the material anyway.
Remus made an unusual noise, half gasp, half growl, and his hips shifted, tense and irritable. James pressed his fingers in a little harder, before cupping gently and realising how close Remus was, sliding a finger over the small damp patch wetting the material.
‘You’re doing it wrong,’ Remus whined, attempting a joke.
‘Well, how are you supposed to do it then?’ James asked, an innocent tone for an innocent question, until he understood what he had actually asked of his friend.
‘I will if you will,’ Remus replied, trembling and desperate, rested on his elbows, but with clenched fists, fingers wanting to be lower down and curled around.
James weighed up his options, raking a calming hand through his hair, wishing his own (rather sudden) erection wasn’t so obvious. ‘Yeah, go on.’
He half-lay on his side, and cautiously let his fingers drift under the elastic of his own pyjama-bottoms, quite wanting to see this, to see how Remus did it. Remus flopped onto his back and, to James’ surprise, edged his pyjamas down over his hips a little before wrapping his fingers around himself.
James shuffled his own cock free too; it made it easier to touch how he wanted and it was only fair. Remus propped himself back on one elbow, turning slightly to watch, and James began to stroke because watching Remus holding himself like that made him need to, sighing deeply at the pleasurable relief that rushed through his body.
He nudged in closer, leaning his cheek atop Remus’ shoulder so he could watch as Remus began to move his hand too, just ever-so-gently, but it was clearly enough for Remus; his cheeks pink and his breath short and hurried. ‘Do it properly,’ James whispered, his own hand moving easily, instinctively.
‘I am.’
‘No; like you do on your own, faster.’
‘That how you do it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Let me see.’ Remus rolled over, and they curled together, foreheads touching, eyes down.
Remus’ hand was going quicker now, and more smoothly, and James sighed deeply at the warm waves of pleasure breaking over him, his breath wetting Remus’ lips. Remus nosed in for a brief kiss, only to gasp and pull back immediately.
‘Oh, you’re going to come,’ James murmured. Remus just whimpered, eyes on James and his lips pressed together. ‘No,’ James admonished gently, spare hand plucking at his friend’s mouth, ‘I want to hear it.’
Remus’ next gasp burst out as if he’d been holding his breath, then he whined throatily, crying out louder, the curl of his fist moving so fast now and James felt the damp warmth soak into his own clothing as the ecstasy peaked on Remus’ face.
‘I’ve never seen anyone come before,’ James whispered as Remus came down, still struggling for breath.
‘Me neither,’ added Remus, his voice rather rough, but also eager, and James shuddered as the feeling built higher inside him. ‘Yes?’
‘Nearly.’
‘Anything I can do to help?’ Remus asked, maybe half joking.
‘Yes, fuck, yes, talk to me.’
‘Er…’ Remus shifted nervously.
‘Say something dirty,’ James hissed, weaving fingers into soft brown hair, but concentrating on his own nearness as his other hand moved, smoothly and regularly.
‘Like what?’
James whimpered, too close now, feeling everything about to break apart. ‘Fuck, anything, anything.’
‘But I-‘
‘Please, please, Remus, please, I-‘
‘Watching you bring yourself off is the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.’
James came with a brief yelp, unable to hold back, the feeling tearing out of him harder than usual.
He began to giggle almost immediately and Remus joined in. ‘Can’t believe you said that,’ James sniggered as they nestled closer, sharing more little, silly kisses and snapping their clothes back in place.
‘Sorry.’ Remus snickered with pent-up laughter, his fingers damp with sticky coldness on James’ bare arm.
#
Sometimes they could laugh about it, just laugh at Sirius’ idiotic behaviour; his tall tales of girls and sex and misbehaviour. And when they couldn’t laugh about it, it was less of a problem now anyway; James’ anger transformed quickly into something else, and they would avoid Sirius’ company and stumble upstairs to the dormitory.
Kisses were rougher and more desperate those times, and no longer needed excuses; wine, whisky and other intoxicating substances were for after, for the come-down, clothes re-arranged and flat and breathless on their backs on James’ bed.
#
When Sirius spent half an hour detailing his liaison with a sixth-year Gryffindor that Remus had confessed an interest in, not even making any excuses for his behaviour, James was boiling angry on Remus’ behalf, even though Remus seemed barely bothered.
‘Just forget about it, forget about her,’ James mumbled into the kiss, ‘just forget about him. He’s a complete bastard.’
‘Yes…’ Remus replied, distracted because James was scrabbling to lift his robes for him.
‘A selfish, mmm, brainless, arsing fucking arsehole, uhmm-‘ Even insulting Sirius was difficult to concentrate on when Remus was kissing so frantically and rubbing him like that through his clothes.
‘Yes?’
‘Yes; a cunt-brained, narcissistic -oh fuck, just there- useless, self-centred, buggering little twerp.’
‘Don’t use that word!’ Remus stopped suddenly, hands moving to cup James’ hips, eyes wide with fear.
‘What? What w- oh.’ James felt ice drain through his blood, because he couldn’t call anyone a bugger, not really, not when he had Remus pressed up against the wall and a desperate hard-on straining for relief. ‘Sorry.’
‘Just stop talking.’
‘Mm-‘ James kissed even more fiercely, to forget everything else, and groaned when his hand finally found its way into Remus’ underwear.
‘Shh,’ Remus added, comforting, pushing away from the wall to bring their bodies closer, reaching under James’ robes.
‘Uh, oh fuck, I’m trying to!’ James could feel Remus smile briefly before he deepened their kiss.
Remus’ hand worked carefully, finally freeing James’ cock, and James gasped as Remus pushed in closer and their hardnesses touched together.
James could only gape, open mouthed, for air, his face pressed into Remus’ cheek.
‘You like that?’ he was asked, as a thrust of Remus’ hips made it suddenly even better, and he found himself far too close already.
‘Mnnn- yes, oh, I- I’m-‘
‘Fuck…’ Remus licked his lips, intent on his task, hand sliding up and down between their bodies.
‘I-‘ And James was coming, over Remus’ fingers, Remus’ cock, and in that brief moment he knew that girls were hardly all that important.
#
Sirius talked about girls like they were expendable, like they had a shelf-life; there was flirting, then sex, then it was over. But James was still happy to sit with Remus of an afternoon and do nothing but talk and kiss, sloppy lips and silly jokes, and belly-kissing because it made Remus giggle.
And they would yell and wrestle and laugh together, until an angry seventh-year would wander into their dormitory to tell them off; James trying to get away with wide-eyed and innocent, and Remus blushing nervously, scared one or other of his secrets would be discovered.
#
Both of Remus’ secrets ended up being discovered on the same night.
When challenged, Sirius merely stared, cold and unrepentant, into James’ eyes.
‘I said, Snape fucking deserved it. He was saying things about you.’
James was finding it insanely difficult just to stay calm enough to have the conversation, unsure of just how angry he should be. ‘Because he’s never done that before? You had to go and-‘
‘Things about you and Remus,’ Sirius muttered, and there was shame in his voice at admitting that; shame not for his actions, but for the jealousy that they proved.
This is my fault, thought James, and he leaned to the wall and gasped for breath, he’d neglected his best friend, but his punishment was one that caused the most pain for Remus.
‘Did you really think I didn’t know?’ Sirius asked darkly.
‘I-‘ Actually, yes, James hadn’t even considered that anyone might know.
‘Well I do. I have. For some time. I think it’s disgusting.’
‘Sirius-‘
‘Well it is; you know that.’
James sighed, because Remus was lovely, warm-eyed and soft-fingered, and never disgusting, but, all the same, it was wrong. ‘Yes, I know. You want us to stop.’ James hadn’t meant it, but with the words out it was so plainly true.
‘Yeah.’
‘I-‘ And he didn’t know what to say. I can’t?
‘You’re supposed to be my best friend, and you’re spending all your time with him.’ Sirius pouted, a petulant child who just wanted his own way. But, of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t right.
‘Okay, I’ll stop it.’
And he did, not looking at the coldness in Remus’ eyes, and trying not to remember that he was the one who’d caused it.
#
Of course there were times when James couldn’t help but remember. In the dormitory sometimes, or the bathroom, when Remus was a little too undressed. And the times when Remus would touch him, brush against him, usually accidentally, and James would realise how much he wanted to just begin all over again, just to say ‘Remus’, and catch his lips as he turned.
His favourite memory, when he would touch himself in the dark, was that one, glorious time, drunken and mad, that they’d decided they both desperately needed to know what a blow-job felt like. And that memory would never leave; Remus knelt in front of him on the floor, eyes closed as he concentrated, thumbs digging into James’ hips painfully, but not anything like painfully enough to detract from the hot, sucking bliss of Remus’ mouth.
James would remember the slow, extended shudder of his orgasm, the way Remus swallowed, yet still kept sucking, finally pulling away to breathlessly lick his lips, his eyes asking for James’ approval. James had quickly swapped their positions, and soon had the heavy length of Remus’ cock rested along his tongue.
James would lie there, alone in the dark, coming unsatisfyingly over his own fingers and stomach, Remus not lain with him to kiss his lips after, or lick clean his skin.
#
Now, jumping actually seemed like a simple and viable option as he sat there, alone.
Except he’d grown up, was sensible now, could step back from a situation and think about consequences. I still want to jump. But he knew now that you couldn’t have everything you wanted.
He wasn’t hurt, really, wasn’t upset, or asking why or what if - he just felt utterly empty, a wide expanse of open numbness, spreading out, consuming him. He didn’t know how to behave; like Sirius, sulking and flouncing like an angry child, or like Remus would, cold, stoic and alone.
Maybe the wind would blow a bit harder and the tower would fall down, and make the decision for him.
#
One long hour, and the West Tower stood strong as ever.
‘James.’ And it was Lily.
He was annoyed not so much to be found, but for the fact that she must have been told where to find him, and told by Remus too. Remus had known he would be here.
She sat next to him, against the wall too, though she wasn’t to know that it was wrong. ‘James,’ she said again,
He didn’t look at her.
‘It isn’t that bad you know; they meant to tell you, just didn’t get a chance.’
James snorted, and surprised himself; that he was still capable. Of course they’d meant to tell him, but they’d been scared to, or had liked their secret, or had enjoyed leaving him out. ‘It isn’t that,’ he said, and for a split second he considered just telling her everything.
‘He’s still your best friend,’ her fingers wound their way into his hair, ‘but we’re growing up and things will be different, won’t they? You’ll still see them, still be close, you’ll-‘
‘He didn’t tell me he was gay.’
‘He- what?’
‘Sirius. You know; the one who’s still my best friend? Didn’t bother to mention he’s a fucking poof.’
‘What…?’ Amusingly, she didn’t know how to react, her facial expression frowning and twitching. ‘What’s that got to do with-‘
‘He isn’t living with Remus for the fucking company, is he?’
‘I don’t see how them living together means- Is Remus gay? Did you know that?’
‘Remus isn’t-‘ Don’t use that word! ‘-yes, yes he is.’
‘Oh. Well, okay. But that doesn’t mean-‘
‘It does,’ he said, adamant, teeth gritted. ‘Yes it does.’
‘Erm, okay. Is it that that you don’t like, or that he didn’t tell you?’
A world-weary sigh. ‘He lied to me, Lily. So much.’
‘Okay, I know, that must hurt.’
‘He betrayed me…’ James whispered.
‘It’s a bit extreme to…’ she trailed off. James could feel her watching, but ignored it and listened to the wind howl around them. ‘You always have me, you know that? We have each other now.’
And what could he say to that? ‘Yeah. I have you.’
She smiled, presumably, leaning in and wrapping her arms around him. James sighed deeply, exhausted now, and pressed his face to her neck. Her hair smelt of apples.
#
When James reached their dormitory later, only Peter was there, which was a relief because James was exhausted, had no energy to fight now. Remus and Sirius were probably off scratching each other’s bellies or something, he thought bitterly, they had better things to do than bother with him.
‘I thought you knew,’ was all Peter said as James sat next to him.
‘I didn’t.’
‘Yeah.’
James leaned in, still so tired, pressing their shoulders together, cocking his head slightly to the side, almost letting Peter support him. And he was grateful for Peter; good, kind Peter, quiet, loyal, gentle. Peter who was so frequently ignored, who had possibly even more reason to be angry, to feel betrayed, that he’d been left out again.
‘Everything will be okay, Jamie.’
‘No it won’t.’
‘I know.’
Peter’s arm slid tentatively around his shoulder and he caved then, leaning in fully, relying on Peter, resting his forehead against the boy’s temple. ‘I know,’ James repeated back, pushing his lips carefully to his best friend’s cheek.
#
You don’t expect your best friend to betray you.
####
Title: What’s Mine is Yours
Pairing: Remus/James, Remus/Sirius, James/Lily
Word count: 3861
Rating: NC-17
Summary: There are some things in life that you never expect.
Disclaimer: Not mine
What’s Mine is Yours
You don’t expect your best friend to betray you.
#
Sirius Black was telling another one of those lewd, crude jokes again, and James smiled indulgently at his best friend, mouthing the over-told words along with him, which made Peter start to snicker well before the punch-line had been reached.
James also kept one ear on his girlfriend, who was busy excitedly relating to Remus the details of the flat she and a friend had managed to secure themselves in London. Whatever was going to happen to them all, James thought, it was easy to be happy and excited, lying in the grass on a beautiful summer day like this one.
Lily leaned her head back against James’ chest, but she was clutching Remus’ arm, her face alive, eyes lit up and sparkling. ‘-only five minutes from James’ flat! So we’ll be close, but not too close!’ James kissed the top of her head gently, though he’d heard her news already.
Sirius, having finally finished his joke, rolled his eyes at Lily, because distance didn’t matter when they were all perfectly capable of Apparating.
‘It’ll be wonderful, won’t it?’ Lily continued. ‘Not that there’s anything wrong with staying with your parents for a bit,’ she added hurriedly, for the benefit of Remus and Peter. ‘Are you really going all the way back up North, Remus?’
‘Well,’ he said, voice faltering slightly.
‘Actually, Remus is going to live with me,’ Sirius interrupted smoothly.
James merely blinked, as his warm, summer world froze around him.
#
James’ world was nothing but a series of lazy, sloppy kisses, a mouth that was warm, wet and welcoming sliding hotly against his own. Propped up on one elbow, own hand cupping own cheek, he was stretched languidly along his bed, Remus’ body mirroring the position, lips working carelessly against James’.
It had started with the recently-familiar flash of annoyance; Sirius’ more uncontrolled behaviour (tolerated because of his problems, but now close to unbearable) getting yet again out of hand. When Sirius had finally passed out there had been jokes and mimicking, and the moment of clarity revealed to James that if they couldn’t give Sirius the good kicking that he sorely needed, what he actually needed were some rules.
Anyway, James had pointed out that Remus couldn’t even kiss the back of his own hand properly (as they mocked Sirius’ womanising), and turning to show Remus how it worked had been one of those things that felt normal in a stoned and drunken haze. And it could hardly be a bad thing because Remus was good once he got going. It often felt a bit like he was being choked slowly with his friend’s tongue, but it was actually quite an appealing way to be kissed, and it felt hot and good and somehow right. Remus smelt familiar, and of whisky and dope, and he smiled against James’ mouth every time Sirius snorted in his drunken slumber.
‘Can we’ve another?’ James murmured between Remus’ lips.
‘None left, a’ gone. Could’ve a fag though,’ Remus replied, pushing his tongue in further to remind James just how much easier it would be to simply stay lying down and continue.
‘Mm,’ James sighed, nuzzling his tongue into the wall of Remus’ cheek, having never noticed how soft an area that was before. Because you hardly snog people that often. True enough, he supposed. Mmm, a strange, slick wetness, but soft and fleshy too. He wondered why Sirius was so hung up on further things when kissing was so good and easy.
‘C’mon, then.’
James groaned and wrenched himself half up, before giving in and flopping back.
‘Jamie!’
‘Uhhh. Glasses?’ Remus had insisted he take them off, because the corners dug in, apparently. James had pointed out that girls didn’t complain about that, but Remus had felt the need to remind him that he had very little experience of girls, except Amy Trent-Smith that time for a dare and his cousin Susan at a wedding when he was thirteen.
Remus pulled him up by the arms, pressing another kiss to his lips, before replacing his spectacles for him. ‘Thanks.’
Remus opened the window of their round tower-room and let the soft, fresh night air rush in and James staggered up to lean out and drink some in. ‘Share or one each?’ Remus asked, already rolling.
‘Eaches.’
‘Kay,’ he replied, sounding, to James’ ears, strangely disappointed. Remus swiped a quick, damp lick along the paper, and James couldn’t help but lean in to slide their tongues together again. Remus smiled quite coyly when he finally pulled away.
James curled into the window-seat and took the first cigarette, realising suddenly why Remus had wanted to share. He lit it quickly, then offered it over while the next was being rolled, pushing his fingers to Remus’ soft, wet lips and feeling them tighten as he inhaled.
They tangled their legs across one another’s and smoked quietly, occasionally swapping cigarettes. Leaning over for a kiss would be too much effort, so instead they shared damp, cardboard filter-tips and slow, lazy smiles.
#
After the next full-moon, Remus was extra sore. James could tell this from the careful, awkward way he held himself, the slow, delicate pace he walked at, the hesitancy of his smiles. This, of course, was precisely what that strange Muggle substance was for, to soothe his aching bones, though hell-knew what Dumbledore would have done to them if he knew Remus ever shared it.
Luckily the others were off with their girlfriends, so James dragged Remus to the top of the West Tower, and they huddled out there, below the lip of the parapet because the wind was fearsomely strong. James almost left when Remus said ‘how romantic’ to the package containing bread and chicken legs and cake and a bottle of red wine that he’d brought, but it seemed like an innocent enough joke, so he stayed.
James had planned to wait, until they were drunk and stoned again -all dilated pupils and wine-purpled lips- but the bitten-dry skin of Remus’ mouth stained after the first sip and when he started licking chocolate-sticky crumbs from his fingers, James leaned in instinctively.
Remus had been expecting it, surely, blushing after he’d said the word romantic, and his eyes all flickery-everywhere. And he didn’t even tense as James kissed him, never mind push away, just slid his chocolatey tongue against James’.
Again it was all far too easy. They let the kisses incorporate themselves naturally into their evening, passing wine between their lips, sharing marijuana-smoke breaths, stroking chocolate-iced fingers over each other’s tongues. Remus would choke with laughter, cough wine down James’ front, and James would happily lick the excess from their chins.
And it was all very natural, not like girls. Girls were confusing, strange things; all perfume and false giggles, artificial-flavoured lips and mouth and skin, and James couldn’t imagine that he’d ever understand them. Close-to, Remus smelt like Remus, and tasted of what he’d eaten, which was absolutely fine with James.
#
It was all very new to James, to be so close to Remus.
Sirius had gone wild, or rather, wilder, now he was suddenly parentless, was rude to classmates and teachers alike, and strode around the school as if he owned it. James knew that maybe it was his job, as best friend, to sort him out, but it seemed like such an effort, especially when he was glad of the peace to just be with Remus.
Remus had always been different, and they’d always treated him differently, even when they didn’t mean to, and James found he and Sirius, and even Peter, often felt very separate from Remus. But now it was James and Remus who were close, and they would let Sirius show off all he wanted about all the girls he’d had, how far he’d got with them, then when he and Peter went off with their girls, it would just be James and Remus for the evenings.
Remus would have them doing homework, but James didn’t mind, because with curtains closed they could kiss between sentences, and Remus was delightfully easy to distract.
Remus, wolf-like, enjoyed having his belly scratched, and a brief tickle of fingers and nails was enough to make him lean his head back, arching his spine contentedly, and he would bare his neck invitingly, submissively. That was James’ cue to nuzzle and lick the length of Remus’ throat, venturing the occasional bite because it made Remus twitch and his eyes would go feral and animalistic, as if the wolf were being threatened.
#
One evening, dressed for bed (due to the mudslide that had been the school grounds earlier), James noticed the strangeness of Remus’ feral look, the bright burn within it, and, more simply, the thickness of his cock as it nudged the waist-band of his cotton pyjamas. It was weird that such lazy, aimless kissing could excite Remus, but James let his belly-scritching hand drift lower and over the material anyway.
Remus made an unusual noise, half gasp, half growl, and his hips shifted, tense and irritable. James pressed his fingers in a little harder, before cupping gently and realising how close Remus was, sliding a finger over the small damp patch wetting the material.
‘You’re doing it wrong,’ Remus whined, attempting a joke.
‘Well, how are you supposed to do it then?’ James asked, an innocent tone for an innocent question, until he understood what he had actually asked of his friend.
‘I will if you will,’ Remus replied, trembling and desperate, rested on his elbows, but with clenched fists, fingers wanting to be lower down and curled around.
James weighed up his options, raking a calming hand through his hair, wishing his own (rather sudden) erection wasn’t so obvious. ‘Yeah, go on.’
He half-lay on his side, and cautiously let his fingers drift under the elastic of his own pyjama-bottoms, quite wanting to see this, to see how Remus did it. Remus flopped onto his back and, to James’ surprise, edged his pyjamas down over his hips a little before wrapping his fingers around himself.
James shuffled his own cock free too; it made it easier to touch how he wanted and it was only fair. Remus propped himself back on one elbow, turning slightly to watch, and James began to stroke because watching Remus holding himself like that made him need to, sighing deeply at the pleasurable relief that rushed through his body.
He nudged in closer, leaning his cheek atop Remus’ shoulder so he could watch as Remus began to move his hand too, just ever-so-gently, but it was clearly enough for Remus; his cheeks pink and his breath short and hurried. ‘Do it properly,’ James whispered, his own hand moving easily, instinctively.
‘I am.’
‘No; like you do on your own, faster.’
‘That how you do it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Let me see.’ Remus rolled over, and they curled together, foreheads touching, eyes down.
Remus’ hand was going quicker now, and more smoothly, and James sighed deeply at the warm waves of pleasure breaking over him, his breath wetting Remus’ lips. Remus nosed in for a brief kiss, only to gasp and pull back immediately.
‘Oh, you’re going to come,’ James murmured. Remus just whimpered, eyes on James and his lips pressed together. ‘No,’ James admonished gently, spare hand plucking at his friend’s mouth, ‘I want to hear it.’
Remus’ next gasp burst out as if he’d been holding his breath, then he whined throatily, crying out louder, the curl of his fist moving so fast now and James felt the damp warmth soak into his own clothing as the ecstasy peaked on Remus’ face.
‘I’ve never seen anyone come before,’ James whispered as Remus came down, still struggling for breath.
‘Me neither,’ added Remus, his voice rather rough, but also eager, and James shuddered as the feeling built higher inside him. ‘Yes?’
‘Nearly.’
‘Anything I can do to help?’ Remus asked, maybe half joking.
‘Yes, fuck, yes, talk to me.’
‘Er…’ Remus shifted nervously.
‘Say something dirty,’ James hissed, weaving fingers into soft brown hair, but concentrating on his own nearness as his other hand moved, smoothly and regularly.
‘Like what?’
James whimpered, too close now, feeling everything about to break apart. ‘Fuck, anything, anything.’
‘But I-‘
‘Please, please, Remus, please, I-‘
‘Watching you bring yourself off is the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.’
James came with a brief yelp, unable to hold back, the feeling tearing out of him harder than usual.
He began to giggle almost immediately and Remus joined in. ‘Can’t believe you said that,’ James sniggered as they nestled closer, sharing more little, silly kisses and snapping their clothes back in place.
‘Sorry.’ Remus snickered with pent-up laughter, his fingers damp with sticky coldness on James’ bare arm.
#
Sometimes they could laugh about it, just laugh at Sirius’ idiotic behaviour; his tall tales of girls and sex and misbehaviour. And when they couldn’t laugh about it, it was less of a problem now anyway; James’ anger transformed quickly into something else, and they would avoid Sirius’ company and stumble upstairs to the dormitory.
Kisses were rougher and more desperate those times, and no longer needed excuses; wine, whisky and other intoxicating substances were for after, for the come-down, clothes re-arranged and flat and breathless on their backs on James’ bed.
#
When Sirius spent half an hour detailing his liaison with a sixth-year Gryffindor that Remus had confessed an interest in, not even making any excuses for his behaviour, James was boiling angry on Remus’ behalf, even though Remus seemed barely bothered.
‘Just forget about it, forget about her,’ James mumbled into the kiss, ‘just forget about him. He’s a complete bastard.’
‘Yes…’ Remus replied, distracted because James was scrabbling to lift his robes for him.
‘A selfish, mmm, brainless, arsing fucking arsehole, uhmm-‘ Even insulting Sirius was difficult to concentrate on when Remus was kissing so frantically and rubbing him like that through his clothes.
‘Yes?’
‘Yes; a cunt-brained, narcissistic -oh fuck, just there- useless, self-centred, buggering little twerp.’
‘Don’t use that word!’ Remus stopped suddenly, hands moving to cup James’ hips, eyes wide with fear.
‘What? What w- oh.’ James felt ice drain through his blood, because he couldn’t call anyone a bugger, not really, not when he had Remus pressed up against the wall and a desperate hard-on straining for relief. ‘Sorry.’
‘Just stop talking.’
‘Mm-‘ James kissed even more fiercely, to forget everything else, and groaned when his hand finally found its way into Remus’ underwear.
‘Shh,’ Remus added, comforting, pushing away from the wall to bring their bodies closer, reaching under James’ robes.
‘Uh, oh fuck, I’m trying to!’ James could feel Remus smile briefly before he deepened their kiss.
Remus’ hand worked carefully, finally freeing James’ cock, and James gasped as Remus pushed in closer and their hardnesses touched together.
James could only gape, open mouthed, for air, his face pressed into Remus’ cheek.
‘You like that?’ he was asked, as a thrust of Remus’ hips made it suddenly even better, and he found himself far too close already.
‘Mnnn- yes, oh, I- I’m-‘
‘Fuck…’ Remus licked his lips, intent on his task, hand sliding up and down between their bodies.
‘I-‘ And James was coming, over Remus’ fingers, Remus’ cock, and in that brief moment he knew that girls were hardly all that important.
#
Sirius talked about girls like they were expendable, like they had a shelf-life; there was flirting, then sex, then it was over. But James was still happy to sit with Remus of an afternoon and do nothing but talk and kiss, sloppy lips and silly jokes, and belly-kissing because it made Remus giggle.
And they would yell and wrestle and laugh together, until an angry seventh-year would wander into their dormitory to tell them off; James trying to get away with wide-eyed and innocent, and Remus blushing nervously, scared one or other of his secrets would be discovered.
#
Both of Remus’ secrets ended up being discovered on the same night.
When challenged, Sirius merely stared, cold and unrepentant, into James’ eyes.
‘I said, Snape fucking deserved it. He was saying things about you.’
James was finding it insanely difficult just to stay calm enough to have the conversation, unsure of just how angry he should be. ‘Because he’s never done that before? You had to go and-‘
‘Things about you and Remus,’ Sirius muttered, and there was shame in his voice at admitting that; shame not for his actions, but for the jealousy that they proved.
This is my fault, thought James, and he leaned to the wall and gasped for breath, he’d neglected his best friend, but his punishment was one that caused the most pain for Remus.
‘Did you really think I didn’t know?’ Sirius asked darkly.
‘I-‘ Actually, yes, James hadn’t even considered that anyone might know.
‘Well I do. I have. For some time. I think it’s disgusting.’
‘Sirius-‘
‘Well it is; you know that.’
James sighed, because Remus was lovely, warm-eyed and soft-fingered, and never disgusting, but, all the same, it was wrong. ‘Yes, I know. You want us to stop.’ James hadn’t meant it, but with the words out it was so plainly true.
‘Yeah.’
‘I-‘ And he didn’t know what to say. I can’t?
‘You’re supposed to be my best friend, and you’re spending all your time with him.’ Sirius pouted, a petulant child who just wanted his own way. But, of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t right.
‘Okay, I’ll stop it.’
And he did, not looking at the coldness in Remus’ eyes, and trying not to remember that he was the one who’d caused it.
#
Of course there were times when James couldn’t help but remember. In the dormitory sometimes, or the bathroom, when Remus was a little too undressed. And the times when Remus would touch him, brush against him, usually accidentally, and James would realise how much he wanted to just begin all over again, just to say ‘Remus’, and catch his lips as he turned.
His favourite memory, when he would touch himself in the dark, was that one, glorious time, drunken and mad, that they’d decided they both desperately needed to know what a blow-job felt like. And that memory would never leave; Remus knelt in front of him on the floor, eyes closed as he concentrated, thumbs digging into James’ hips painfully, but not anything like painfully enough to detract from the hot, sucking bliss of Remus’ mouth.
James would remember the slow, extended shudder of his orgasm, the way Remus swallowed, yet still kept sucking, finally pulling away to breathlessly lick his lips, his eyes asking for James’ approval. James had quickly swapped their positions, and soon had the heavy length of Remus’ cock rested along his tongue.
James would lie there, alone in the dark, coming unsatisfyingly over his own fingers and stomach, Remus not lain with him to kiss his lips after, or lick clean his skin.
#
Now, jumping actually seemed like a simple and viable option as he sat there, alone.
Except he’d grown up, was sensible now, could step back from a situation and think about consequences. I still want to jump. But he knew now that you couldn’t have everything you wanted.
He wasn’t hurt, really, wasn’t upset, or asking why or what if - he just felt utterly empty, a wide expanse of open numbness, spreading out, consuming him. He didn’t know how to behave; like Sirius, sulking and flouncing like an angry child, or like Remus would, cold, stoic and alone.
Maybe the wind would blow a bit harder and the tower would fall down, and make the decision for him.
#
One long hour, and the West Tower stood strong as ever.
‘James.’ And it was Lily.
He was annoyed not so much to be found, but for the fact that she must have been told where to find him, and told by Remus too. Remus had known he would be here.
She sat next to him, against the wall too, though she wasn’t to know that it was wrong. ‘James,’ she said again,
He didn’t look at her.
‘It isn’t that bad you know; they meant to tell you, just didn’t get a chance.’
James snorted, and surprised himself; that he was still capable. Of course they’d meant to tell him, but they’d been scared to, or had liked their secret, or had enjoyed leaving him out. ‘It isn’t that,’ he said, and for a split second he considered just telling her everything.
‘He’s still your best friend,’ her fingers wound their way into his hair, ‘but we’re growing up and things will be different, won’t they? You’ll still see them, still be close, you’ll-‘
‘He didn’t tell me he was gay.’
‘He- what?’
‘Sirius. You know; the one who’s still my best friend? Didn’t bother to mention he’s a fucking poof.’
‘What…?’ Amusingly, she didn’t know how to react, her facial expression frowning and twitching. ‘What’s that got to do with-‘
‘He isn’t living with Remus for the fucking company, is he?’
‘I don’t see how them living together means- Is Remus gay? Did you know that?’
‘Remus isn’t-‘ Don’t use that word! ‘-yes, yes he is.’
‘Oh. Well, okay. But that doesn’t mean-‘
‘It does,’ he said, adamant, teeth gritted. ‘Yes it does.’
‘Erm, okay. Is it that that you don’t like, or that he didn’t tell you?’
A world-weary sigh. ‘He lied to me, Lily. So much.’
‘Okay, I know, that must hurt.’
‘He betrayed me…’ James whispered.
‘It’s a bit extreme to…’ she trailed off. James could feel her watching, but ignored it and listened to the wind howl around them. ‘You always have me, you know that? We have each other now.’
And what could he say to that? ‘Yeah. I have you.’
She smiled, presumably, leaning in and wrapping her arms around him. James sighed deeply, exhausted now, and pressed his face to her neck. Her hair smelt of apples.
#
When James reached their dormitory later, only Peter was there, which was a relief because James was exhausted, had no energy to fight now. Remus and Sirius were probably off scratching each other’s bellies or something, he thought bitterly, they had better things to do than bother with him.
‘I thought you knew,’ was all Peter said as James sat next to him.
‘I didn’t.’
‘Yeah.’
James leaned in, still so tired, pressing their shoulders together, cocking his head slightly to the side, almost letting Peter support him. And he was grateful for Peter; good, kind Peter, quiet, loyal, gentle. Peter who was so frequently ignored, who had possibly even more reason to be angry, to feel betrayed, that he’d been left out again.
‘Everything will be okay, Jamie.’
‘No it won’t.’
‘I know.’
Peter’s arm slid tentatively around his shoulder and he caved then, leaning in fully, relying on Peter, resting his forehead against the boy’s temple. ‘I know,’ James repeated back, pushing his lips carefully to his best friend’s cheek.
#
You don’t expect your best friend to betray you.
####