One second, James is underneath him, eyes soft and then cold, but still looking at Sirius, recognising him. The next second, Sirius is hovering just under the wood canopy of the bed, his belly unnaturally warm from the gust of air that had hit it a moment before. And James is off the bed, staring up wild eyed at Sirius as if he hasn't a clue who he is, wand pointed straight at him. And it had all happened so fast that Sirius barely had time to register what had happened
( ... )
Sirius lay as flat as he could against the mattress, eyes wide open. He felt James shift away from him, causing their lower bodies to separate somewhat. For a moment, even though James's head was still on his shoulder, Sirius thought he had cocked everything up again. This time, at least, he knew what the wrong move was.
But it just wasn't fair. Why shouldn't James do everything and then get nothing in return? James was the one who needed it right now. He was the jumpy one, the one who needed something to help him relax, to make him forget, at least for a short amount of time, all of the changes that were confusing and upsetting him. And Sirius really wanted to give that to James. James was seventeen. He was more than old enough to remember the intimacy the two of them shared, especially in moments like these
( ... )
Sirius twisted like an eel. James couldn't help but smile, he'd always said his mate was slippery in moments like these. And the comment had made them both laugh...
The homesickness hit again. It made his breath catch in his throat a moment. The scent of musk and come was everywhere. Familiar. Mixed with clean linens and Sirius' sweat.
James' hand curled tighter a moment, the tightness in his body loss, not pleasure, though if he'd paid attention he'd have realized the needy, aching was echoed at his crotch. As it was his hips bucked slightly as Sirius arched and fell flat. James unconsciously worming closer, wanting touch. Needing it as he too breathed deeply.
Not thinking clearly, James brought his wet hand up, licking his index finger as he bit his hand to keep himself from making any sounds. He tried to turn away, to leave things to a curl and snuggle.
For a little while, Sirius wasn't aware of too much except the sticky, but relieved, feeling in his groin and the fact that his entire body was coated in sweat despite his having at some point kicked down the covers. He was still mostly hard when James's grip tightened for a moment, causing Sirius to dig his toes into the bed at the overstimulation.
Then, as James moved his hand away, Sirius became aware that James had shifted back towards him, his own erection pressing into Sirius's leg. And James was breathing heavily, and not in a relaxed sort of way.
This wasn't right. James might have been protesting before, but his body sure wasn't protesting now. And although Sirius was feeling very relaxed and a slight bit sleepy, he wanted to do this for James, just what James did for him, just as he did so many years ago. Then he'd truly be able to sleep well, knowing that James was calm and happy by his side.
And maybe if he could just start things off, James would realise that he would be able to handle it, and he'd come, too, and then
( ... )
Heavy breathing. James' hips bucked despite himself. The hand was warm, too rough, but also familiar. And oh magic and mysteries he wanted...! And Padfoot was asking him. Begging him.
Trembling, James put a hand on Sirius chest to push him back, but his fingers curled for a second and he held on instead, fisting the shirt. He shook and it made him stroke himself back and forth in Sirius' hand. Once. Enough to make him groan again.
James shook his head. "No Padfoot. It's ok. I'll be fine, mate."
The temptation to close his eyes was great. Bigger than great. But this wasn't his Pads. And Sirius could ask and ask, but James wanted his Padfoot. He wanted the boy who'd make him scream, make his toes curl and who'd smile, smugly and talk about tension, and pull out a chocolate frog from no where before pinning him to the bed to sleep.
"Pads!" Longing and desperation. James swallowed. It was the wrong tone. The wrong everything. The person he wanted was gone. He shook his head again, trying to steady his voice
( ... )
At first, it seemed like Sirius's idea was working. James clearly wanted it - and he needed it, Sirius just knew it. As James groaned, Sirius moved his legs closer towards James's, pressing his toes into the rough fabric encasing them, letting James know he was there for him, no less intimate than they had always been.
Against the arm encircling James's shoulder, Sirius felt James tremble, and then James was clutching his shirt and thrusting into his hand. James's groan made Sirius feel even warmer than he already was, and he couldn't help but smile. This was normal, and Sirius desperately wanted to make James come, to make him feel good, to show him that things weren't different
( ... )
He was shaking. It was wrong and good and wrong and he was shaking and Pads was being so gentle, arm around him, hand on him.
"It'snotyouspellsandspiritsImisshim." A groan as James bit his lip, caught and trapped, still trying to push Sirius away. But he wanted...! And it was so. almost. Padfoot.
The low voice. The words. Trust him, he'd said. 'Prongs, trust me.' Which was calmer than any wicked, gloating, smug, loving voice he'd ever heard in the past.
"Please." James whispered, not quite knowing what he was asking or what he'd say next.
His free hand fumbled down, fingers wrapped around Sirius' which were wrapped around him, warm and firm.
"Please!" James shook his head from side to side, despite the movement of his hips. He felt overwhelmed
( ... )
The words nearly ripped Sirius apart. He was that 'him' and would always be. A strange pang of jealousy for himself, the person he was twenty years before, stabbed Sirius somewhere in the chest. If that person was James's best friend, then where did that leave him? Second best to himself? Sirius desperately wished that there was something he could do to be that person for James, to help James realise that the two people were really the same, that they both loved James just as much. No, in fact, the person Sirius was now loved him even more
( ... )
The length of James' spine was stiff, body tense. He kept himself firmly facing away from Sirius. One hand was under the pillow, the other around his own waist. Pads was squished against his back. And he was sad. Again. And shocked, again.
But James didn't have anything to say. His body, his skin was still hyper sensitive. And he wanted more than anything for Sirius to be seventeen behind him. Then all he'd have to do is roll over and talk it out, or not.
He shrugged and spoke, voice gruff. "Sleep, Pads. We can talk about it later." Or never. As long as Sirius didn't touch him again they might never have to. "It'll be alright, mate."
If Sirius were to go back to Azkaban, this moment would surely be one of the memories the Dementors would force him to relive. It was one of his lowest moments, having hurt his best friend in such a raw, personal way
( ... )
Maybe there was a potion Sirius could drink, one that would turn his age back just the right amount, just for a short amount of time, like a day, or two days at the most. Then he and James could talk this out without James shying away or feeling unsettled. And once they reached some sort of understanding - and, frankly, once the both of them had a nice vacation from this confusing reality - maybe they could settle back into a similar routine, with Sirius back to his normal age and body.
Dammit and fuck. Maturin. The Potions professor. Sirius would be forced to go to him. Well, at least Sirius could say one thing about Maturin: He might be somewhat boring, and Remus might be far too interested in snogging him, but Maturin was nothing but professional about delicate matters such as these. Although Sirius hadn't really liked Maturin's explanation of being in love, Maturin had taken their previous exchange very seriously, and Sirius was confident he could trust Maturin about this matter, too
( ... )
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But it just wasn't fair. Why shouldn't James do everything and then get nothing in return? James was the one who needed it right now. He was the jumpy one, the one who needed something to help him relax, to make him forget, at least for a short amount of time, all of the changes that were confusing and upsetting him. And Sirius really wanted to give that to James. James was seventeen. He was more than old enough to remember the intimacy the two of them shared, especially in moments like these ( ... )
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The homesickness hit again. It made his breath catch in his throat a moment. The scent of musk and come was everywhere. Familiar. Mixed with clean linens and Sirius' sweat.
James' hand curled tighter a moment, the tightness in his body loss, not pleasure, though if he'd paid attention he'd have realized the needy, aching was echoed at his crotch. As it was his hips bucked slightly as Sirius arched and fell flat. James unconsciously worming closer, wanting touch. Needing it as he too breathed deeply.
Not thinking clearly, James brought his wet hand up, licking his index finger as he bit his hand to keep himself from making any sounds. He tried to turn away, to leave things to a curl and snuggle.
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Then, as James moved his hand away, Sirius became aware that James had shifted back towards him, his own erection pressing into Sirius's leg. And James was breathing heavily, and not in a relaxed sort of way.
This wasn't right. James might have been protesting before, but his body sure wasn't protesting now. And although Sirius was feeling very relaxed and a slight bit sleepy, he wanted to do this for James, just what James did for him, just as he did so many years ago. Then he'd truly be able to sleep well, knowing that James was calm and happy by his side.
And maybe if he could just start things off, James would realise that he would be able to handle it, and he'd come, too, and then ( ... )
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Heavy breathing. James' hips bucked despite himself. The hand was warm, too rough, but also familiar. And oh magic and mysteries he wanted...! And Padfoot was asking him. Begging him.
Trembling, James put a hand on Sirius chest to push him back, but his fingers curled for a second and he held on instead, fisting the shirt. He shook and it made him stroke himself back and forth in Sirius' hand. Once. Enough to make him groan again.
James shook his head. "No Padfoot. It's ok. I'll be fine, mate."
The temptation to close his eyes was great. Bigger than great. But this wasn't his Pads. And Sirius could ask and ask, but James wanted his Padfoot. He wanted the boy who'd make him scream, make his toes curl and who'd smile, smugly and talk about tension, and pull out a chocolate frog from no where before pinning him to the bed to sleep.
"Pads!" Longing and desperation. James swallowed. It was the wrong tone. The wrong everything. The person he wanted was gone. He shook his head again, trying to steady his voice ( ... )
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Against the arm encircling James's shoulder, Sirius felt James tremble, and then James was clutching his shirt and thrusting into his hand. James's groan made Sirius feel even warmer than he already was, and he couldn't help but smile. This was normal, and Sirius desperately wanted to make James come, to make him feel good, to show him that things weren't different ( ... )
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"It'snotyouspellsandspiritsImisshim." A groan as James bit his lip, caught and trapped, still trying to push Sirius away. But he wanted...! And it was so. almost. Padfoot.
The low voice. The words. Trust him, he'd said. 'Prongs, trust me.' Which was calmer than any wicked, gloating, smug, loving voice he'd ever heard in the past.
"Please." James whispered, not quite knowing what he was asking or what he'd say next.
His free hand fumbled down, fingers wrapped around Sirius' which were wrapped around him, warm and firm.
"Please!" James shook his head from side to side, despite the movement of his hips. He felt overwhelmed ( ... )
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The words nearly ripped Sirius apart. He was that 'him' and would always be. A strange pang of jealousy for himself, the person he was twenty years before, stabbed Sirius somewhere in the chest. If that person was James's best friend, then where did that leave him? Second best to himself? Sirius desperately wished that there was something he could do to be that person for James, to help James realise that the two people were really the same, that they both loved James just as much. No, in fact, the person Sirius was now loved him even more ( ... )
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But James didn't have anything to say. His body, his skin was still hyper sensitive. And he wanted more than anything for Sirius to be seventeen behind him. Then all he'd have to do is roll over and talk it out, or not.
He shrugged and spoke, voice gruff. "Sleep, Pads. We can talk about it later." Or never. As long as Sirius didn't touch him again they might never have to. "It'll be alright, mate."
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Maybe there was a potion Sirius could drink, one that would turn his age back just the right amount, just for a short amount of time, like a day, or two days at the most. Then he and James could talk this out without James shying away or feeling unsettled. And once they reached some sort of understanding - and, frankly, once the both of them had a nice vacation from this confusing reality - maybe they could settle back into a similar routine, with Sirius back to his normal age and body.
Dammit and fuck. Maturin. The Potions professor. Sirius would be forced to go to him. Well, at least Sirius could say one thing about Maturin: He might be somewhat boring, and Remus might be far too interested in snogging him, but Maturin was nothing but professional about delicate matters such as these. Although Sirius hadn't really liked Maturin's explanation of being in love, Maturin had taken their previous exchange very seriously, and Sirius was confident he could trust Maturin about this matter, too ( ... )
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