Beautiful Misfits
Pairing: James/Sirius, James/Lily
Rating: PG for suggestions of violence, sensuality
Word Count: 1199
Summary: War is brewing, and sixteen-year-old Sirius Black has chosen the family he made over the family he was born to. But coming home isn't always easy, and young hearts don't always listen to danger.
A/N: Wrote this for the Rare Pairs fest over at mwpp_mischief, with this prompt. Sort of fits into the Revolution Rock 'verse, which currently consists of that one fic.
Take me out tonight
Because I want to see people and I want to see life
Driving in your car, oh please don't drop me home
Because it's not my home, it's their home and I'm welcome no more
And if a double-decker bus crashes into us
To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us
To die by your side, well the pleasure, the privilege is mine
--The Smiths, "There Is a Light that Never Goes Out"
Nights were always the hardest. Sirius was accustomed to the noise and bustle of London, and the yawning silence of Godric's Hollow kept him awake late into the night. The house was more of a mansion, really, a sprawling Victorian far too big for its three occupants. Not even the addition of Sirius' entire wardrobe to the floor of the spare bedroom kept the creaks and groans of the house from echoing around him.
Sirius had picked up the habit back at Grimmauld place, after determining that Kreacher was somehow trained to apparate to his bedroom door whenever he started masturbating and that there wasn't a book in the house that wouldn't chew off his hand if provoked. So the weeks leading up to his emancipation were mostly spent in the kitchen, adding salt to the tea cakes and ordering Kreacher to fetch magazines for him. They eventually reached an uncomfortable truce, and Sirius began watching dinner preparations when he ran out of reading material. The look on his mother's face when she realized her meal came from the sweat and toil of a pureblood wizard was almost worth the scorched eyebrow.
The Potters' kitchen was smaller than the one at Grimmauld place, but not by much. Sirius could hear Misty snoring gently under the table, and he winced when the clang of pots echoed off the high ceiling. Twenty minutes later, with broth simmering on the stove and the comforting aroma of chicken and onions wafting through the air, Sirius thought he might have found inner peace.
"You have the strangest appetite of anyone I know."
James, like Sirius, had taken to sleeping in muggle clothes. It was practical for late night escapades as well as spontaneous early morning visits from his not-quite-girlfriend. Lily scowled and acted cross whenever James answered the door in a vest and shorts, but she was a redhead. Her arousal wouldn't be more obvious if her handbag sang it at full volume. Why he paraded around like that with no one but Sirius and his parents to appreciate it was a mystery, but James was known for nothing if not his crippling modesty.
When Sirius caught the expression on his best friend's face, however, the remark died on his lips. His eyes looked bruised, and his hair was flattened in all different directions from tossing around in bed. He looked upset, and Sirius knew with an icy sense of dread what sort of things put that look in James Potter's eyes.
Before Sirius could speak, James walked up behind him and began peering over his shoulder. "You're really going to mess up your appetite if you keep making proper meals at four in the morning. Can't you have hot chocolate like a normal person?"
"Hot chocolate is for amateurs." Sirius was trapped between James and the stove, a development he'd enjoy a lot more if it were happening in the privacy of his own head. He shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to lean into the delicious warmth at his back.
"Hot chocolate is the greatest invention since naked women, and you know it." The arm that snuck around Sirius was lean, muscular, and covered with dark hair. Sirius tried to remember how to breathe as James wrestled the spoon away from him and brought it to his mouth. "Too bland. Needs more salt."
"Is that your response to everything?" He snatched the spoon back and resumed stirring.
"Since when is salt a bad thing? You never complain about the amount of salt in my cooking."
"Well, maybe you cook about as well as my three-year-old cousin and I'm trying to spare your ego." Even the banter was tiring, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to wolf down his soup and return to bed. James suddenly tensed against his back, his knuckles pale where he gripped the edge of the stove. Sirius let go of the spoon and rested his hand a few inches away from James'.
"What is it, Prongs?"
James breathed harshly as he tried to keep himself together. "There's been another one. They're as good as certain Snape was involved."
"Shit." Anxiety clawed its way up his chest. "Does she know?"
"Whose owl do you think woke me up at four in the morning?" James shifted uneasily. "I sent her your mirror. She promised to bring it back tomorrow, as soon as it's late enough to drive over." Sirius couldn't keep himself from stiffening. "Look, Padfoot, she really needed someone to talk to. I couldn't wait on owl post when she was that upset. How would you react if your best friend pulled something like this?" He sounded far older than sixteen, and Sirius bit down a remark that Lily wasn't a child who needed her daddy.
"If he pulled something like this, he was never her friend." Sirius turned off the stove. Despite the shaking in his hands and his voice, James was maddeningly solid against his back. He was always maddeningly solid, taking whatever hits came his way and bouncing back almost immediately. He was doing it now, the bastard, but Sirius had the feeling that bouncing back wasn't an option anymore. He tried to face James, but his hips were still trapped against the stove.
"It's not your job to take care of her, Prongs. Snape is a danger to your family, my family, and everyone else we know. If she can't handle that, she has no business being involved with the Order."
"I really don't think your family's in danger of being attacked by Death Eaters."
"I wasn't talking about the Blacks."
Sirius felt the heavy weight of James' head on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and gave in, leaning against James' chest with a gentle sigh. For a single moment, they were young and warm and alive, touch sustaining them where chicken soup never could.
"I'm going to ask her to marry me."
"You're not even dating yet, you wanker." James leaned against his back. The ache in Sirius' stomach eased at the touch, which proved that his body was daft as hell. It didn't feel like he was losing James, just learning to share him. Maybe he'd even stop thinking of Lily as a stuck-up bitch who stole people's best friends just for the fun of it.
"Promise me you'll stand up at the wedding." It should've been a joke, a continuation of Sirius' accusations of delusion, but James sounded completely earnest. "If we…I mean, we're all young and gorgeous and totally mad with love, and we won't be forever. If we make it there, I want it to be us three."
"What about Moony and Wormtail?"
James swallowed. "If it's safe, they'll be there. But it'll still be us three." His hands slid around Sirius' waist, warm and rough and perfect.
"Shouldn't you ask Lily first?" His voice came out gruff, and James laughed.
"Haven't you seen the look on her face when you and me hang all over each other?" He squeezed Sirius' arse, causing him to jump and jostle the stove. "Now, we've got to get rid of this soup before Misty gets up, or you'll give her an inferiority complex."
Rating: PG for suggestions of violence, sensuality
Word Count: 1199
Summary: War is brewing, and sixteen-year-old Sirius Black has chosen the family he made over the family he was born to. But coming home isn't always easy, and young hearts don't always listen to danger.
A/N: Wrote this for the Rare Pairs fest over at mwpp_mischief, with this prompt. Sort of fits into the Revolution Rock 'verse, which currently consists of that one fic.
Take me out tonight
Because I want to see people and I want to see life
Driving in your car, oh please don't drop me home
Because it's not my home, it's their home and I'm welcome no more
And if a double-decker bus crashes into us
To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us
To die by your side, well the pleasure, the privilege is mine
--The Smiths, "There Is a Light that Never Goes Out"
Nights were always the hardest. Sirius was accustomed to the noise and bustle of London, and the yawning silence of Godric's Hollow kept him awake late into the night. The house was more of a mansion, really, a sprawling Victorian far too big for its three occupants. Not even the addition of Sirius' entire wardrobe to the floor of the spare bedroom kept the creaks and groans of the house from echoing around him.
Sirius had picked up the habit back at Grimmauld place, after determining that Kreacher was somehow trained to apparate to his bedroom door whenever he started masturbating and that there wasn't a book in the house that wouldn't chew off his hand if provoked. So the weeks leading up to his emancipation were mostly spent in the kitchen, adding salt to the tea cakes and ordering Kreacher to fetch magazines for him. They eventually reached an uncomfortable truce, and Sirius began watching dinner preparations when he ran out of reading material. The look on his mother's face when she realized her meal came from the sweat and toil of a pureblood wizard was almost worth the scorched eyebrow.
The Potters' kitchen was smaller than the one at Grimmauld place, but not by much. Sirius could hear Misty snoring gently under the table, and he winced when the clang of pots echoed off the high ceiling. Twenty minutes later, with broth simmering on the stove and the comforting aroma of chicken and onions wafting through the air, Sirius thought he might have found inner peace.
"You have the strangest appetite of anyone I know."
James, like Sirius, had taken to sleeping in muggle clothes. It was practical for late night escapades as well as spontaneous early morning visits from his not-quite-girlfriend. Lily scowled and acted cross whenever James answered the door in a vest and shorts, but she was a redhead. Her arousal wouldn't be more obvious if her handbag sang it at full volume. Why he paraded around like that with no one but Sirius and his parents to appreciate it was a mystery, but James was known for nothing if not his crippling modesty.
When Sirius caught the expression on his best friend's face, however, the remark died on his lips. His eyes looked bruised, and his hair was flattened in all different directions from tossing around in bed. He looked upset, and Sirius knew with an icy sense of dread what sort of things put that look in James Potter's eyes.
Before Sirius could speak, James walked up behind him and began peering over his shoulder. "You're really going to mess up your appetite if you keep making proper meals at four in the morning. Can't you have hot chocolate like a normal person?"
"Hot chocolate is for amateurs." Sirius was trapped between James and the stove, a development he'd enjoy a lot more if it were happening in the privacy of his own head. He shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to lean into the delicious warmth at his back.
"Hot chocolate is the greatest invention since naked women, and you know it." The arm that snuck around Sirius was lean, muscular, and covered with dark hair. Sirius tried to remember how to breathe as James wrestled the spoon away from him and brought it to his mouth. "Too bland. Needs more salt."
"Is that your response to everything?" He snatched the spoon back and resumed stirring.
"Since when is salt a bad thing? You never complain about the amount of salt in my cooking."
"Well, maybe you cook about as well as my three-year-old cousin and I'm trying to spare your ego." Even the banter was tiring, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to wolf down his soup and return to bed. James suddenly tensed against his back, his knuckles pale where he gripped the edge of the stove. Sirius let go of the spoon and rested his hand a few inches away from James'.
"What is it, Prongs?"
James breathed harshly as he tried to keep himself together. "There's been another one. They're as good as certain Snape was involved."
"Shit." Anxiety clawed its way up his chest. "Does she know?"
"Whose owl do you think woke me up at four in the morning?" James shifted uneasily. "I sent her your mirror. She promised to bring it back tomorrow, as soon as it's late enough to drive over." Sirius couldn't keep himself from stiffening. "Look, Padfoot, she really needed someone to talk to. I couldn't wait on owl post when she was that upset. How would you react if your best friend pulled something like this?" He sounded far older than sixteen, and Sirius bit down a remark that Lily wasn't a child who needed her daddy.
"If he pulled something like this, he was never her friend." Sirius turned off the stove. Despite the shaking in his hands and his voice, James was maddeningly solid against his back. He was always maddeningly solid, taking whatever hits came his way and bouncing back almost immediately. He was doing it now, the bastard, but Sirius had the feeling that bouncing back wasn't an option anymore. He tried to face James, but his hips were still trapped against the stove.
"It's not your job to take care of her, Prongs. Snape is a danger to your family, my family, and everyone else we know. If she can't handle that, she has no business being involved with the Order."
"I really don't think your family's in danger of being attacked by Death Eaters."
"I wasn't talking about the Blacks."
Sirius felt the heavy weight of James' head on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and gave in, leaning against James' chest with a gentle sigh. For a single moment, they were young and warm and alive, touch sustaining them where chicken soup never could.
"I'm going to ask her to marry me."
"You're not even dating yet, you wanker." James leaned against his back. The ache in Sirius' stomach eased at the touch, which proved that his body was daft as hell. It didn't feel like he was losing James, just learning to share him. Maybe he'd even stop thinking of Lily as a stuck-up bitch who stole people's best friends just for the fun of it.
"Promise me you'll stand up at the wedding." It should've been a joke, a continuation of Sirius' accusations of delusion, but James sounded completely earnest. "If we…I mean, we're all young and gorgeous and totally mad with love, and we won't be forever. If we make it there, I want it to be us three."
"What about Moony and Wormtail?"
James swallowed. "If it's safe, they'll be there. But it'll still be us three." His hands slid around Sirius' waist, warm and rough and perfect.
"Shouldn't you ask Lily first?" His voice came out gruff, and James laughed.
"Haven't you seen the look on her face when you and me hang all over each other?" He squeezed Sirius' arse, causing him to jump and jostle the stove. "Now, we've got to get rid of this soup before Misty gets up, or you'll give her an inferiority complex."