Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They’re 15 the first time they kiss.

It happens like this.

They’re laying face to face in James’ bed in Gryffindor Tower the night after their final fourth-year exam. This isn’t unusual for the two boys. On the contrary, it’s quite typical to find them together, curled around each other in one of their beds, talking about everything and nothing until the wee hours of the morning, eventually falling asleep next to each other. This has been normal for them since they were 11 years old. Nobody questions it, not anymore. That’s just how James and Sirius are.

It's far too late for the two boys to be awake, although neither is tired, when Sirius asks, “Have you ever thought about kissing a boy?”

And James replies, “Of course I have. Hasn’t everyone?”

Sirius snorts, because, “No, James. Most boys don’t think about kissing other boys.”

James considers this for a moment. “Well, surely lots of boys think about it. It doesn’t always mean they want to kiss boys. Or that they’d like kissing boys.”

“Do you want to kiss boys?”

“…Yes. Do you?”

“Yes.”

James’ eyes flicker briefly to Sirius’ lips, illuminated by the ball of golden light the other boy had conjured earlier in the night.

Has James thought about kissing Sirius? Of course, he has. Sirius is one of the most beautiful people he’s ever met. But he’s also thought about kissing Lily and Remus and Mary. He’s a 15-year-old boy. His mind goes there with nearly everyone.

He’d be lying, though, if he said he didn’t think about kissing Sirius far more than he thought about kissing anyone else.

James swallows thickly. “Do you want to kiss girls, too?”

“Not particularly,” Sirius admits, a blush rising to his already rosy cheeks. “Do you?”

“Yes,” James says honestly. His heart is pounding against his chest. “Is that…alright, d’you reckon? I don’t know if I’m allowed to want to kiss both.”

Sirius shrugs. “Don’t see why not. They’re your lips, after all. Kiss who you like.”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

“No. Have you?”

“No. Do you want to?”

“Of course I do.”

“Do you want to—I mean…never mind. That’s a stupid idea.”

Sirius’ eyebrows furrow together. James wants to smooth them with his fingertips. He keeps his hands where they are. “Were you going to ask if…if I wanted to kiss you?”

It’s James’ turn to blush. He doubts it’s visible on his dark skin below the low light, but Sirius knows him well enough to know it’s there. “Yeah,” he says and chews the skin of his bottom lip—a nervous tick he’s been doing since he was a child.

Sirius pulls his lip out from between his teeth with the pad of his thumb. This in itself is not unusual. It’s his best friend’s usual way to get him to stop. But this time is different. Sirius’ thumb lingers a moment too long on his lip and James kisses it.

Sirius’ breath catches. “It’s not a stupid idea. It’s…it’s a good idea. We should kiss. As friends.”

“Yeah,” James agrees, perhaps a touch too enthusiastic. “Like a test kiss. To make sure we actually like kissing boys.”

“Exactly,” Sirius smiles. It’s a brilliant smile, James thinks. “A test kiss between friends.”

James’ stomach flips when Sirius leans in closer. He gives James a look, like an invitation to meet him halfway. A look that says that he won’t be the one to cross that line, but he will certainly kiss back if James commits first. And Merlin, Sirius’ lips look so soft and plush, and James thinks he’ll regret it for the rest of his life if he never kisses his best friend, so he takes the invitation, closing the distance between the two of them.

This kiss is soft, tentative. Very much like how a first kiss should be. Sirius’ mouth is just as nice as it looks, and James—well, James, as it turns out, does like kissing boys. Or at the very least, he adores kissing Sirius.

Maybe that’s why he crosses the line further than he should, reaching a hand out to brush the long black curls from his face before cupping his jaw. Maybe that’s why he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, why he darts his tongue out to lick Sirius’ bottom lip, why he takes advantage of the way he parts those beautiful pink lips and slides his tongue into Sirius’ mouth.

When they finally separate, Sirius’ whole face is flushed red. James takes a staggered breath in an attempt to calm his heartbeat. “I think that experiment was successful,” Sirius jokes, and James laughs. “I’m so gay, James. Holy shit, I’m gay. That was…wow.”

James clears his throat, because yes, it was wow. “It’s a shame that friends don’t usually kiss,” he says, attempting to sound like he was teasing, but he knows his sincerity is shining through plain as day—especially to Sirius who knows him better than he knows himself. It’s then that he realizes that his hand is still cupping Sirius’ face. He feels his face grow warm as he withdraws it.

“We’ve never exactly been the usual kind of friends, though, have we?” Sirius asks. “Kissing you feels good. Screw what usual friends do. Can’t we just…make each other feel good?”

“Yes,” James answers before he can think about it. Because if he had thought about it, he might’ve said no. But really, what’s the harm? Sirius is his best friend, and as he said, kissing him felt good. And, well, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t physically attracted to him—you’d have to be crazy not to be, with that sharp jaw, and those beautiful grey eyes, and those long curls, and, Merlin, those thick eyelashes. Those are his secret weapons, James thinks. As soon as he starts batting his eyelashes, it’s nearly impossible to say no to him.

“Good,” Sirius sighs, and then his lips are on James’ again, just as soft, just as gentle as the first time, but with none of the shyness. Instead, it's lips slotting together perfectly and tongues caressing, and James’ hand buried in Sirius’ hair—how did that even get there?—and Sirius’ hand on the small of James’ back beneath his t-shirt. “Merlin,” Sirius gasps when James pulls back. “We should’ve done that so much sooner. Think of all the snogging we could’ve been doing.”

“True,” James agrees, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “But think of all the snogging we get to do from now on.”

“You’re brilliant, you are,” Sirius praises, and James snorts at him.

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. “It’s time for bed now. Go to sleep, Sirius.”

“Fine,” Sirius groans, snatching his wand from the table to cast Nox, putting out the little ball of light before tossing his wand onto the floor. He’d find it in the morning.

It’s a few minutes later, when James is half-asleep and quickly falling deeper into it, that Sirius speaks again. “Jamie?” James hums in acknowledgment but keeps his eyes closed. “Wanna snog some more?”

“…Yeah, alright.”

“”

That summer, like all the summers before, Sirius’ mother doesn’t let him leave the house. James gets to visit with Remus and Peter and Marlene, but he doesn’t see Sirius for two straight months. It’s agonizing—for multiple reasons.

The first and main reason is that James knows far more about what Walburga and Orion Black are like than he did in previous summers. Over their fourth year, Sirius had opened up a lot about the abuse he and his brother suffer through at his parent’s hands—physically, mentally, and emotionally. It’s no wonder that he soaks up love and care like a sponge. But knowing all this makes saying goodbye so difficult at the beginning of summer, and it sends him into nauseating anxiety every time he thinks about his best friend over those two months.

The second reason is simply that Sirius is James’ best friend in the whole world, and nothing feels right when they’re not together—which, James knows makes it sound like they’re in love or something, but really, they’re not. They are, however, soulmates, in his opinion, and one without the other just…doesn’t make sense.

The third reason is that…well, James is a 15-year-old boy, and together, he and Sirius had just discovered the brilliant world of snogging. And despite their inexperience and the fact that they both could probably do with some practice on their technique, kissing Sirius is marvelous. James finds it hard to think of much else, especially as he lays in bed at night, trying to fall asleep. If they were at Hogwarts, Sirius would be in bed with him, and they’d be snogging each other silly until they were too tired to go on.

James’ first real wet dream comes that summer. And of course, it starts with snogging Sirius. It ends…well, doing a lot more than snogging. This first coincides with another—the first time James wanks thinking about his best friend.

And maybe it’s the residual arousal from his dream, or maybe it’s the fact that Sirius really does have the prettiest lips, and his subconscious is trying to tell him how perfect they would look wrapped around his—

Anyway, it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had in his life up to that point. He tries not to think too hard about that.

“”

They’re only on the Hogwarts Express for an hour before James and Sirius sneak off to snog in the loo. And if anyone finds it unusual when they return to their compartment, holding hands and giggling, they don’t say anything.

“”

James isn’t surprised how long it takes for Remus and Peter to start asking questions because, really, nothing has changed between him and Sirius except the addition of snogging—the falling asleep in each other’s beds and being cuddly with each other in the Common Room and holding hands and smacking loud kisses on each other’s heads; these are all normal for Sirius and James, and they have been since first year.

Anyway, the two boys have always been closer than friends usually are. Maybe that’s why neither of them thinks to tell the other half of the Marauders that part of their friendship now includes kissing on the lips.

The first time they kiss in public is two weeks into the fall term. The four friends and their classmates are sitting in the Great Hall for dinner when Sirius stands, smirking, to depart early for his first detention of fifth year. Without giving it a second thought, he leans down and kisses James on the lips before he walks away like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Neither of them seems to notice the strange looks they get, nor the shrugs that seem to say, why am I not surprised?

The kissing only gets more frequent after that, and with it comes the debates between the other students: Are they dating, or is this just part of their friendship now? James and Sirius roll their eyes when they hear the arguments—obviously, they’re not dating. It’s not that weird to kiss your best mate. But they don’t say anything in response, and with their silence comes the unanimous decision from the Hogwarts student body—this is just a new part of their odd, overly physical friendship.

The thing that makes Remus and Peter finally start asking questions is this:

It’s Halloween night, and Gryffindor has, of course, thrown a major party. Fourth-years and under are sent up to their dorms by the older ones a few hours in, and now the Common Room is a mess of drunk teenagers dancing inappropriately to music that is far too loud.

Sirius and James have had far too much to drink and have done their fair share of flirting around, but Lily, of course, rejects James’ advances, and Sirius, who is in the process of learning how hard it is to find other gay boys to snog, is tired of hopping from boy to boy trying to figure out who’s queer and who’s not.

The solution is obvious, and it’s been what they’ve been doing for the past two months. When Sirius finally gives up on chatting up random boys, he finds James, whispers in his ear about a good time, and then the two boys climb up the stairs to their dormitory.

They’ve never done more than snog, but in his drunken haze, James thinks tonight may be the night because Sirius is straddling his lap, and he can feel his hard-on pressed against his stomach, and his hands are tangled up in long black curls, and slight fingers are slipping up under his shirt, exploring his sides and stomach and chest. They barely break long enough to breathe, but that’s fine with James because Sirius is making the most gorgeous sounds—

“What the fuck?” Peter shouts, and James is so shocked that he pushes Sirius off of him, hurriedly covering his crotch with one of his pillows, hiding the evidence of what they had been doing, as if Remus and Peter hadn’t seen it.

He immediately feels a bit silly, and a bit guilty as well after seeing the glare Sirius is giving him. Sorry, he mouths, and the other boy rolls his eyes. When they turn to look at their other friends, Remus looks lost in thought, as if trying to solve a puzzle, and Peter just looks baffled.

“So…you two are dating?” the werewolf asks slowly. James and Sirius look at each other, both biting back smiles and then they burst into laughter. They laugh so hard that James’ stomach aches and his cheeks hurt a bit, and when they finally calm down, Remus looks more confused than ever. “You could’ve just said no, you arseholes.”

James gives him what he hopes is a sympathetic look, as Peter proposes, “So you’re like…friends with benefits, then?”

“I—no, Peter, just no,” Sirius sighs, looking exasperated. And this, James thinks, is probably why they had been keeping the snogging part to themselves. Because it’s not romantic, and it’s not even entirely sexual a lot of the time. It’s just…them. And they’re not delusional—everyone is used to their odd way of showing friendship, but they know other people don’t understand it. And now, kissing is a part of that—snogging is a part of that. And, they’ve never explicitly said so, but they both know now that sex will be too, one day.

“Alright,” Remus says after a moment, and James lets out a sigh of relief that he hadn’t known he was holding on to. “But that’s enough for now, yeah? I need to sleep. Full moon soon.”

“Yeah, ‘course, Moony,” Sirius breathes, and he and James look to Peter expectantly.

“Look, I won’t pretend to understand your friendship,” he says awkwardly with pink cheeks, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “But whatever, you know? Not my business anyway.”

Satisfied, Sirius smiles and presses a chaste kiss to James’ lips before crawling out of his bed and skipping to the bathroom.

“Goodnight, then,” James stutters, the kiss having drawn his attention back to the erection hiding under his pillow. He snaps the curtains of his bed closed and puts up a silencing charm, letting his mind wander back to the feeling of Sirius in his lap, to the excitement of the prospect of doing something more than kissing.

He slides his hand into his pants, imagining that it’s Sirius’.

“”

Three days later is Sirius’ 16^th birthday. He’s made it his mission to have a birthday snog in a dark corridor or broom cupboard or maybe an empty classroom, but he’s still suffering through the unfortunate circumstance of not being able to find any gay boys. He knows they’re there; they must be. But the wizarding world in 1975 isn’t the best time and place to be gay, and no one seems willing to admit that they’re queer—besides Sirius and James, that is.

Fortunately, James knows exactly how to fix his best mate’s problem. After Charms class that afternoon, on the walk to the library for Study Hall, James pulls Sirius into a dark alcove hidden behind a large statue, presses him against the wall, and kisses him like his life depends on it. Sirius’ hands pull his shirt out of his trousers immediately, sliding his cool fingers against the warm skin of James’ waist, and James’ hands move to delicate black curls as though they belong there.

“Happy birthday,” James whispers into his mouth when they break long enough to breathe. He crowds in closer to Sirius and he’s glad he does because now he can feel his hard prick against his hip and it’s all he can do to not sink to his knees right then. Instead, he pushes the robe off of Sirius’ shoulders before taking off his own. The pile of clothes on the ground grows larger as James removes their ties and shirts and then their bare chests are pressed together for only the third time ever and James is already addicted to the feeling of Sirius’ skin against his own.

Slowly, achingly slowly, James runs his fingertips down Sirius' smooth chest, down his lean stomach, and rests it at the waistband of his trousers. He pulls away from the kiss just far enough to look the other boy in the eyes. “Can I touch you?”

“Fuck, yes Jamie,” Sirius moans before grabbing the back of James’ neck and pulling him back in, pressing their lips together again. James quickly undoes the button and zipper, pushing Sirius’ trousers and pants down to his knees in one go.

Again, he detaches his lips from Sirius’, this time stepping back far enough that he can see the other boy. He takes his time, drinking in the image of his best friend nearly nude, a blush spread across his cheeks and neck and chest, his cock hard and leaking. And then he mutters a quick lubrication spell that all boys can do wandless by their third year and reaches out a hand and wraps his fingers around Sirius’ erection, eliciting a low moan, before crashing their lips back together again.

Jerking Sirius off is not all that different from jerking himself off, except that Sirius’ prick is a bit longer and skinnier than James’. He slows down his kisses, pulling away occasionally to press his lips to the shell of his ear or his neck or his collarbones instead, unable to stop himself from sucking a mark or two into that beautiful alabaster skin.

But most of his focus is on his hand and the weight of Sirius’ cock in it. He experiments, altering the pressure and hand position and angle and speed until he finds a combination that has Sirius throwing his head back, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy. He’s moaning and writhing, bucking his hips to the speed of James’ movements, fingernails digging into his shoulders until his body tenses and he’s spilling across his best friend’s calloused fingers, his name on his lips.

A moment passes, James and Sirius leaning against each other, and then Sirius pushes James back a step, pulls up his pants and trousers without buttoning them, and drops to his knees.

“Fuck—Sirius,” James moans, and his fingers find purchase in Sirius’ hair as he says, “You don’t have to—it’s your birthday—” Sirius begins unbuttoning James’ trousers. “You don’t have to, Sirius, I—”

“Do you not want me to?” he asks, looking up at James through fluttering eyelashes, pushing down his trousers, and reaching for the waistband of his pants.

“Shit, Pads, of course, I want you to, but—”

“Good. I want to, too. Know hush and let me unwrap my gift.”

And then James’ cock is free, and Sirius’ lips are around it and holy Merlin, he looks even prettier than James could’ve imagined. All he can do is stare in awe as Sirius bobs his head slowly, wrapping his long fingers around what he can’t reach with his mouth.

It’s clear that it's Sirius’ first time giving a blowjob—it’s sloppy and uncoordinated—but it’s also James’ first time receiving one, and the warm moisture of Sirius’ mouth, the strokes of his tongue along his cock, the pink lips stretched obscenely around his length, bring him to the edge far sooner than he would’ve liked. He warns Sirius and then he’s coming in white ropes across thin fingers and a soft, pale cheek. James barely has enough time to think about how beautiful Sirius looks before the birthday boy casts a cleaning charm and drags himself to his feet.

“Round two after Moony and Wormtail go to bed tonight?” Sirius asks with a smirk as he redresses.

“I suppose we can make that happen,” James teases, pulling up his trousers. “After all, it is your birthday.”

They do, in fact, go for a second round that evening when their friends are asleep in celebration of Sirius’ 16^th birthday. They also go for rounds three and four, and later, if anyone asks, Sirius will tell them it’s the best birthday he’s ever had.

“”

Midway through November, Sirius gets his first boyfriend—a seventh-year Ravenclaw named Samuel Davies. He’s tall and handsome and funny and, as Sirius is happy to inform James, an incredible kisser. James can attest to Sam’s kissing skills, because since he's started dating him, Sirius has become a more skillful kisser. He does things, now, with his tongue, that James can’t even put into words how good they feel. His new abilities with his tongue, James happily notices, get used during blowjobs, too.

Sam even seems to be okay with Sirius and James’ odd way of showing affection. He doesn’t seem angry or upset or jealous when the best friends cuddle or hold hands or even when they peck each other on the lips to say goodbye and hello. Sirius is deliriously happy. And James is happy for him.

Their first argument happens just before Christmas break. It goes like this:

Sirius and Sam are sitting in the library studying—or rather, Sam is trying to study, Sirius is distracting him with his nonstop talking, Sam is trying to pretend to be annoyed, Sirius is seeing right through it—and Sirius makes an offhand comment about something that happened while he was snogging James.

“Wait, wait,” Sam says, this comment finally pulling every ounce of focus away from his Transfiguration assignment. “I thought it was just like…pecks and stuff. You used to snog James?”

Sirius scrunches up his nose in confusion. “Used to?” And okay, if he looks back on his conversations with his boyfriend, he can’t argue that he might’ve left out a part of his and James’ relationship, but he wasn’t trying to hide it. It just hadn’t come up. “This happened last week.”

“I—you were snogging someone else?” Sam asks, hurt dripping from his voice. This, unfortunately for both of them, only makes Sirius more confused.

“You say it like I’m cheating or something,” Sirius bemoans. “I—honestly I thought you knew. I’m not trying to hide anything; it’s just what James and I do.”

“Not while you’re dating someone else, Sirius,” Sam chastises, and Sirius bites his tongue to stop himself yelling because he knows Madame Pince would have him in detention in a heartbeat for making a ruckus in her library. Sam breathes deeply, and Sirius feels the urge to yell again. It’s just how our friendship is, he wants to shout, and you have no right to judge it. Get used to it or fuck off. “What else do you and James do? Do you have sex with him? How fucking far does this go?”

“Calm down, Sammy, fuck,” Sirius groans. He should’ve known better. He should’ve known Sam would make it to be something it wasn’t. “Handjobs. And blowjobs. And it’s not—it’s not how you think it is, Sammy.”

“Bullshit,” Sam whisper-yells. “What, you can’t get what you need from me? I’m not enough, so you have to sleep with your best friend?”

“Merlin, it’s not fucking like that,” Sirius insists. “I like you, Sammy. You’re incredible, it’s not about…it’s not about sex with James.”

“But it’s just about sex with me.”

“Don’t put fucking words in my mouth, Sammy.”

“Look,” Sam huffs, clenching his jaw. “I’m willing to forget that you’ve been with James while we’re together, as long as it stops now.”

“No,” Sirius growls. “You don’t get to decide how I show affection to my best friend. You don’t get to give me a fucking ultimatum. I’m not choosing between you and James, Sam.”

“Why? Because you’ll choose James?”

Sirius doesn’t answer, but the look he gives his boyfriend as he storms away tells Sam all he needs to know.

“”

After Christmas, they make up. And then two weeks later, they argue about it again, and then they make up, and then they argue, and then—well, you get the point.

Sirius complains to anyone who will listen about his boyfriend’s idiocy (which is, ultimately, how the whole school finds out that Sirius and James do more than just kiss). Everyone seems to be on Sam’s side—he shouldn’t be kissing someone else while he’s in a relationship. The only person besides James, who doesn’t say that is Remus.

“It’s not fair,” Sirius complains to the werewolf when he and Sam break up for good right before Valentine’s Day. “And you know what? He should’ve just broken up with me the first time we fought about it. Fucking arsehole, stringing me along, acting like he was going to be cool with it the next time, and then! We fucking argue about it again, and then he’s dumping me, again! Well, I’m not getting back together with him again this time.”

“Good for you, Sirius,” Remus deadpans, focusing mostly on the book he’s reading. If there’s one thing he’s learned from being friends with Sirius Black, it’s how to ignore complaining just enough to focus on something else, while also paying enough attention to provide adequate responses.

“Do you think I’ll ever meet someone who understands me and James?”

At this, Remus looks up. He has to. His friend sounds so sad, so dejected, and he knows he needs comfort. He places his bookmark between the pages, buying time to think of how to respond. “Honestly? No, I don’t think anyone will understand. Pete and I hardly understand. But I do think you’ll find someone who will let it be. Someone who won’t get uncomfortable or jealous, who will be happy to let you keep your relationship with James because they understand that it makes you happy and that there’s nothing romantic between the two of you.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sirius sighs.

Remus opens his book again, ignoring the pang in his chest—the reminder that if Sirius would open his damn eyes, he’d see that Remus is right because he is the person he described, the person who wouldn’t care about Sirius and James’ overly physical relationship. But of course, Sirius would never see him that way, so it wasn’t worth mentioning.

“”

Sirius makes it through another two boyfriends—who both break up with him for the same reason that Sam had—before he and James lose their virginity to each other in April. Remus and Peter are at Hogsmeade, and James is determined to take advantage of their absence.

He kisses, kisses, kisses Sirius until he’s hard and moaning, and he lays him out on his mattress, meticulously kissing, licking, nibbling, every spot of pale skin as he reveals it, pulling off every layer of cloth that separates them. Not for the first time, he stretches Sirius open with gentle fingers, uses his free hand to roam across tight muscles and soft flesh. When he pushes into Sirius, James sees stars.

It's wonderful and awkward and gentle and clumsy—but mostly it’s full of love and care. It doesn’t last long, and when it’s over, James and Sirius cuddle closely in a tangle of limbs, sharing kisses and caresses and whispers.

In short, it’s perfect.

Chapter Text

Two weeks later, Sirius betrays Remus’ trust in the worst way, and it nearly tears the group into pieces. In an attempt to pull a prank on Snape, Sirius tells him how to get past the Whomping Willow, effectively outing Remus to the Slytherin as a werewolf. Even James, who has always, always, been on Sirius’ side admonishes him for his lack of judgment. It was only by his quick thinking, after all, that Snape had survived.

For a full week following the Prank, Remus refuses to speak to any of them. When he finally does let one of them back in, it’s Peter.

“He assumes you’re on Sirius’ side,” Peter explains to James in an attempt to ease the ache of being ignored by his friend. “And I mean…can you blame him?”

“Does he really think I’m not pissed at Sirius?” James rages. He’s pacing across the dorm, glasses hanging between the thumb and pointer finger of one hand, while the other rubs at his eyes. It’s James Potter’s tell-tale sign of pure exasperation. “I—do you, Pete?”

“Of course, I know you’re pissed at him,” Peter sighs, watching James pace. “But you’re going to forgive him if you haven’t already. And to Moony…there is no world in which he can be forgiven. Which—” he holds a hand up, stopping his friend from interrupting, “—is bullshit, obviously. And I do think he’ll forgive him, one day. But not anytime soon.”

“”

It’s another full, torturous month before Remus speaks to James again. He had, two weeks ago, begun to allow himself to be in the same room as James, but gets up and leaves when James tries to speak. He still leaves the room the moment Sirius enters.

“Did you know he was going to do it?” Remus asks James as they sit in the library during a free period one morning. His voice cracks. It breaks James’ heart into pieces.

“No, Merlin, no,” James breathes, and he can already feel tears welling up in his eyes because finally Moony is talking to him and he’s missed his friend so damn much. “I never—I would’ve stopped him if I knew, I swear.”

Remus is silent for a moment, his lips pressed together as he considers James’ testimony. “Okay,” he says finally, and James exhales a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding since that night. “You know him better than anyone.” It’s not a question. James nods anyway. “Why would he…”

James’ breath hitches. “I…you’d have to ask him, I reckon.”

“Right,” Remus answers bitterly. For the first time in this conversation, he drags his eyes up from the book on the desk in front of him, looking into James’ eyes instead. “How…” he swallows, blinks. “How is he?”

“Honestly?” James asks, and Remus nods hesitantly. “Awful. But I don’t think you’re actually ready to hear about it yet.”

“I’m not,” Remus confirms, dropping his eyes back to his book.

James reaches his hand out, slowly, as if trying not to startle him, and lets it rest softly on the taller boy’s forearm. “He regrets it.” He rubs circles into the soft fabric of Remus’ wool sweater with his thumb, feels how his tension melts away with the tender touch. “And as soon as you can stand to be in a room with him again he’s going to try every trick in the book to get you to forgive him. But you don’t have to. Not yet. Not until you’re ready.”

“What if I’m never ready?” Remus whispers, and James pretends he can’t see the tears welling up in his eyes, pretends he doesn’t feel the pressure building in his chest at the sight. Instead of verbal acknowledgement, he just continues to rub circles into his arm, squeezes it just a bit tighter. “What if I can never trust him again?”

“Oh,” James sighs because the pieces finally all fit together. His stomach is a confusing brew of sorrow and joy that he pushes down because he does not have time to unpack such feelings. “You’re in love with him.”

He takes Remus’ silence as confirmation.

“”

The school year ends, and Remus can tolerate Sirius’ presence for short periods under certain conditions:

1. There is at least one person between the two of them at all times,
2. He doesn’t have to see Sirius’ face, and
3. Sirius is silent.

To Sirius’ credit, he’s so desperate for Remus’ forgiveness that he abides by these three rules like they’re the laws governing his existence. And in a way, they are. James hadn’t been lying to Remus a month and a half prior when he said Sirius was doing awful.

By the time they go home, it’s been two and a half months since the Prank, and Sirius doesn’t eat enough, doesn’t sleep enough, and cries nearly every day. He barely speaks, except to James when they’re in his bed in the middle of the night. He’s lost the light in his eyes, the bubbly bounce of his personality. In short, he’s not Sirius anymore. The time he is most himself is when he and James have sex; when he’s so gone with pleasure that he can forget everything else, forget the way he betrayed the best person he knows, forget that his friend, who he loves so dearly, now hates him.

“”

Two weeks into the summer holidays, Sirius shows up on James’ doorstep, supporting the weight of his half-conscious little brother Regulus, in the middle of the night, his eyes wild as he begs Euphemia Potter to help them. Regulus has a concussion and three broken bones—two in his left leg and one in his left arm—that are easily patched by the Potter family's Healer who comes quickly when called, despite the late hour. Sirius refuses to leave his brother’s side, and the Potters don’t hear the full story until the next morning when James finally drags him out of what is now known as Regulus’ bedroom for breakfast.

“Walburga doesn’t usually hurt him,” Sirius sniffs, poking at his uneaten eggs with his fork. “We have an unspoken arrangement, Walburga and me. She keeps her hands off of him, and I stay. Doesn’t matter if she hurts me.” James reaches over and grabs his best friend’s hand, squeezing it tightly as Effie rounds the table to kneel at Sirius’ side and pulls him into one of her trademark Mum hugs. “She pushed him down the stairs,” Sirius chokes out, burying his face into Effie’s shoulder. “And I couldn’t stop her, I wasn’t fast enough. I failed him.”

“Look at me,” Effie insists. She places her hands protectively on either side of Sirius’ head and guides his head up, drawing his eyes to hers. “You did nothing wrong. You’re a child, Sirius. You should’ve never been in that situation in the first place. I—” For the first time in his life, James hears his Mum’s voice waver. “I am so sorry for what happened to you and Regulus. No child deserves to be treated that way, especially by the person who is supposed to love you.

“Please believe me when I say, you did not fail him, Sirius. Walburga failed him. Failed both of you. But you got you and him out of that house. You were so brave, darling. So very brave. And you never have to go back there again, not if I have anything to say about it. Do you understand me? You are both welcome here—always.”

“”

By that night, Regulus is awake and well and convinces his big brother that he should sleep in his bed. “I don’t need my big brother watching over me anymore,” he says, and James can see how much it breaks Sirius' heart to hear him say so. His heart cracks at the defeated look on his best friend’s face.

Rather than sleep in his bed, Sirius crawls into bed with James, snuggles into his open arms with a practiced ease. And when he says, “Kiss me,” James obliges because it would be terrible to deny him something that he wants after the horrifying last two days he’s had. And even if James wants to, he can’t.  Not when Sirius looks at him like that—like he had hung the damn sun in the sky, or maybe like he is the sun in the sky.

So, James kisses him. He holds Sirius in his arms, runs the fingers of one hand through his hair, and uses his other hand to touch his skin, to pull him closer, closer. He turns Sirius on his back and frames his face with his arms. He presses his face into his neck and scatters kisses across his long throat, sucking marks into his beautifully pale skin before returning his lips to Sirius’.

Their kissing is slow, gentle, intimate in a way it usually isn’t. James pours promises of comfort and safety into his mouth, promises to take care of him—physically, mentally, emotionally. He peels off his shirt at Sirius’ request, and Sirius’ shirt follows it, and then James’ pants, and then Sirius’. And then they’re lying together, James hovering over Sirius, completely naked.

James balances himself on one arm, using the other to caress the expanse of lean muscle beneath him as he kisses Sirius, and Sirius’ hands are in his hair, holding him close, deepening the kiss.

All it takes is James’ hand around Sirius' cock for slow to fly out the window—Sirius moans loudly and thrusts into James’ fist, and then the grip on James’ hair tightens, his kissing turns messy and spitty and desperate and he’s asking—no begging—James to fuck him, to make him feel good, to make him feel loved. It makes James’ stomach flip—with excitement or nervousness, he’s not sure, but there’s an accompanying tingle in his chest when, after he reminds Sirius that he has him, that he’s safe, that he’ll take care of him, the tension in Sirius’ body melts at the words, leaving him pliant and relaxed beneath him.

The hand that has been resting on Sirius’ stomach wanders down to his hip, past his cock and balls, and to his crack, and Sirius spreads his legs instinctually. James kisses him in thanks before muttering the incantation for a cleaning charm and the lubrication charm in quick succession. And then he brings a slick finger to Sirius’ hole and traces around it delicately. Sirius grinds his hips down, seeking the pressure, and, although James would usually tease him, he complies this time, slipping his finger past the resistant stretch of muscle.

It doesn’t take long for Sirius to adjust to one finger, and James wastes no time adding a second and, when he’s ready, a third. He goes as slow as Sirius will let him, languidly fucking him with his fingers while they kiss until Sirius is a writhing, panting, moaning mess on the sheets below him.

Carefully, James removes his fingers and slicks up his prick, lowering his head down to whisper in Sirius’ ear—“You’re doing so well, Sirius. So perfect. I’ve got you.” He lines himself up and gives only a moment’s pause before pressing in, groaning loudly at the sensation of being wrapped in that tight, wet heat. He keeps going until he’s completely seated, his hips pressed flush against Sirius plush arse before he pauses, letting him adjust to the feeling.

Sirius wraps his legs around James’ waist, digs his heels into his back, whispers a broken, “Please,” and Merlin have mercy, who was James to deny the gorgeous man below him? But he takes a moment longer, kisses Sirius a bit more, uses his free hand to caress his sides, looks down at Sirius, and lets his brain capture this moment like a photograph. A surge of emotion washes through him but he doesn’t have time to decode it, or even address it, because Sirius is digging his heels into James’ back again, whining desperately beneath him, and suddenly all James can think of is making his best friend feel as good as possible.

So, he pushes down his feelings and focuses on the physical. He rolls his hips experimentally, and when it draws a moan from Sirius, he pulls out almost all the way before pushing back in again, just as slowly as everything else he’s done tonight. He picks up the pace slightly, rocking into Sirius, angling himself to hit his prostate with each thrust. Still, though, the way James is fucking his best friend can only be described as sensual, slow, more akin to love-making than fucking. But Sirius doesn’t complain. Rather the opposite, he’s moaning and whimpering beneath James, hands gripped tightly in his hair, his face contorted in an odd but gut-wrenching combination of grief and pleasure.

James leans down to kiss him, dragging his hand from Sirius’ side down to his cock and wraps his hand around it, pulling in time with his thrusts, kissing Sirius with the passion of a man who knew he was destined to die the next day.

Sirius comes first, across James’ fist and his own stomach with a moan and a sob, and a moment later, James follows, spilling inside Sirius with a low groan. The moment he comes down from his high, he kisses the tears off of Sirius’ cheeks and whispers gentle praise against his soft skin.

After James cleans them both up, he pulls Sirius into his chest and holds him until he’s asleep. And when the rush of unidentified feelings returns, he closes his eyes and imagines placing them in a box. And he closes the lid.

“”

Dear Moony,

I hope your summer is going well. I miss you. I’m so excited for you to come visit. Pete’s still on holiday. It sucks not having him down the street. Marlene’s been by a few times to hang out, but it’s not the same as having the Marauders together.

I know you’ve been planning to come visit next week, and I hope you still want to after I tell you this, because I really do miss you it’ll be great to see you. Anyway, Padfoot is here. He and Regulus ran away from home. It was pretty bad, Moony.

I understand if you don’t come, if you don’t want to see him. I hope you come anyway. Maybe when Peter gets back? We can invite the girls over, too, and make it a big group thing so you barely even have to see him. Just a thought. Let me know.

Love From,

Prongs

“”

Remus agrees to come visit and implies that the bigger the gathering is, the longer he’s likely to stick around. Naturally, James talks Effie into letting him throw a big summer party with all of their friends. They plan it out a month in advance so that everyone can make it. It means waiting a while longer before seeing Remus, but it’s worth it if he visits for longer.

Their list of guests is quite long—the four Marauders collectively invite three Gryffindor girls in their year (Lily, Mary, and Marlene), and a few friends they have in the year above them, Frank Longbottom, Alice Fortescue, and Fabian and Gideon Prewett. Upon the insistence of his big brother, Regulus invites a few friends as well—Pandora, Dorcas, Evan, and his boyfriend Barty. Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr. scare James, if he’s being honest, but if having them around means his best friend’s brother is comfortable, he can live with it.

James sends the prospective guest list to Remus and gets a response promptly.

Deer Prongs,

Firstly, I resent you for insisting that I use that damn deer pun with every letter I write. I hope you realize how much of my dignity I’m sacrificing to make you happy, you plonker.

Anyways, that seems like a good-sized group—easy enough to avoid Sirius, anyway. An interesting group, too. Not sure how the Prewett twins will react to Crouch. Should be entertaining at the least.

Of course, knowing you’ll be there helps. I’m sorry I haven’t been around this summer. I’m sorry I’m putting all of this business with Sirius between us. I can’t express how much of a rock you’ve been this summer. I’m not sure I could get through it without your letters. It’ll be nice to see you face to face. I miss you in a way I don’t quite understand.

I miss Sirius. I’m still bloody in love with the fucker, of course. I’d like to say I’m not, but I can’t lie, not to you. Despite missing him, I still feel like shit every time I think about him. Needless to say, I’m worried about seeing him.

If it gets to be too much, will you escape with me? Keep me company in the library or the drawing room until I’m ready to face him again? Could be nice, hanging out, just us two.

Well, I’ll see you in a few weeks, I suppose. I’m looking forward to it.

From,

Moony

“”

“He’s not here yet,” Sirius announces from his spot next to James. It’s the third time he’s said so since people started arriving. James swallows down his annoyance, knowing it’s not fair to Sirius, and leans down to kiss him on the corner of the mouth. It calms him down, if only slightly. If Effie and Monty weren’t floating around, James would’ve pulled him into a full-blown kiss, but he figured that would be pretty difficult to explain to his parents should they see.

Nearly everyone has arrived, save for Remus and the Prewett twins. The group is odd, to say the least. Regulus’ friend Dorcas has been flirting with Marlene since she arrived, which is fine with James because it means Marlene is too busy for her usual favorite hobby at Potter Manor—flirting with Effie. Regulus disappears pretty quickly once Barty arrives, and James is completely sure that Sirius is pretending very hard not to notice their absence. Pandora has taken up conversation with Lily and Mary, and Frank and Alice are chatting with Evan, their arms looped around each other as they stare at the younger Slytherin boy with what can only be described as disturbed interest.

James, Peter, and Sirius stand on the edge of it all, anxiously awaiting the arrival of their fourth man. The Prewett twins show up soon, hopping into whatever conversations they pass by on the way to the drinks, and a while later, Regulus and Barty sneak their way back outside and join Pandora, Lily, and Mary.

The party has been going on for an hour, and James is starting to think Remus might not show up when he finally walks through the patio doors and onto the back lawn. He beams at the sight of the werewolf, and before he can think twice, he’s racing towards him, crashing into him with the biggest hug he can muster. Immediately, he feels embarrassed by his eagerness to be near Moony, but when he pulls away, he sees that the taller boy is just as flustered as he is. It sends a jolt of something through his stomach—pride, maybe? Or perhaps exhilaration.

Peter is right behind him, approaching Remus jovially, but not quite as exuberantly as James had, and quickly begins talking his ear off about his holiday to Spain last month. James isn’t listening, and he has a feeling Remus isn’t paying much attention either because both of them have their eyes set firmly on Sirius, who is still standing, rooted to the spot he was before. He watches Remus with wide eyes, and even with the distance between them, James can see the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, the way he pulls his fingertips—an anxious tick of his—the way he bites his lip. James finds himself wishing he could kiss him to coax it from between his teeth.

James can practically hear the thump of Remus’ heart, can see out of his peripheral the twitch in his hands and he finds himself wishing he could reach out and grab them, hold them tight until they were steady, until the pain of seeing Sirius in the flesh washes out of him and he is his typical self again.

From his spot across the yard, Sirius smiles without breaking eye contact with Remus, so slightly that James barely notices, and gives a small wave before he turns around and walks away, into a conversation with Fabian and Gideon.

“Hey, Pete,” James says, trying his best to sound bright. “Would you grab Remus a drink?”

Peter looks back and forth between Remus and James, tries to disentangle the look they’re sharing, but quickly gives up. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll just…go the long way ‘round, then.”

It’s only once he walks away that James feels like he can finally relax. “I’ve missed you,” he admits to Remus. And though he’s said those words to his friends before, he can’t fight the feeling that it’s different now, somehow. It’s heavier. It means something it didn’t use to mean. He’s nervous to say those words to Remus in a way that he never has been before, and it doesn’t quite make sense. He chalks it up to the Prank and ignores the voice in his head telling him that’s not the real reason.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Remus says with a smile and something in James’ chest flutters. He bites back a smile of his own, and Remus clears his throat. “How has your summer been?”

“Good,” James says a little too quickly. He mentally chastises himself for feeling so anxious. It’s just Moony, he tells himself. Just your friend Remus. He pauses, just long enough to stuff his anxiety into a box in his head, along with the unnamed feeling making his stomach flitter, and shuts it, placing it carefully next to the box he created after sex with Sirius just a few weeks prior. He labels one Sirius and the other Remus and then labels them both Deal with later. When he opens his mouth to speak again, it’s with the bravado he has previously been lacking. “It’s a bit strange having the Blacks around. They’re both so skittish after what happened…but it gets better every day. And we’ve been keeping busy.”

Remus clears his throat and shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “How is Sirius?” he finally asks, and the question somehow jabs at James in the space behind his ribcage and sends his stomach swirling at the same time. He reaches for both sensations and shoves them into a third box, which he labels Remus and Sirius, DO NOT OPEN.

“About you or Walburga?” James counters gently. In the now nearly four months since the Prank, they still hadn’t spoken much about Sirius or his feelings. Remus hadn’t been ready.

“Both,” Remus answers confidently, and for the first time, James believes that he’s ready to talk about everything.

“Let’s go up to my room,” James says, and Remus nods, so he guides him back into the house, up the stairs, and into his bedroom. They sit on the floor, backs leaned against James’ bed, and James reaches underneath for the bottle of Firewhiskey he hides there (although hides is a strong word, considering James is about 95% sure his dad knows it's there). He pulls the lid off and takes a swig, wincing as it burns the back of his throat, before offering the bottle to Remus. Unlike James, he doesn’t make a face when he swallows it.

“So?” Remus asks as he hands back the bottle. He’s looking straight into James’ eyes and James has to take another drink of Firewhiskey to calm his nerves. Or maybe it’s an excuse to break the eye contact that somehow feels far more intense than it should.

“He doesn’t really talk about Walburga,” James starts, his gaze finding its way back to Remus’ green eyes of their own accord, drawn like a moth to a flame. “I think he feels guilty about Regulus getting hurt. Relieved to be out of there. Scared he’ll somehow end up being dragged back.”

“He won’t be,” Remus rasped, worry painting his features. “We won’t let her drag him back. Or Regulus. He has to know that.”

“Hey, hey,” James says soothingly. He reaches a hand up to his shoulder and lets it slide up to the back of his neck, into the short brown hairs at his nape. His hand moves on its own, but Remus doesn’t stop him, so he lets it drift there, to that space that seems so intimate and ignores the way his heart pounds in his chest. “He’s safe. My Mum and Dad won’t let anything happen to him—to either of them. Walburga won’t get her hands on them.”

Remus exhales, his eyes fluttering shut as he leans his head into James’ touch. For a moment, James just admires him. He knows Remus is insecure about all of his scars, but James reckons they make him look rather handsome—rugged and masculine. Sirius’ beauty is more feminine—all soft with his curves and his silky skin and long, cascading curls. The way their beauties contrast is, in itself, incredibly enticing. James wonders briefly how they would look together, and quickly shakes the thought from his head. Now is not the time to imagine his best mates kissing. In fact, there is no right time for that. He shoves the thought in the box labelled, Remus and Sirius, DO NOT OPEN.

“And…me?” Remus asks, finally opening his eyes. He keeps the weight of his head against James’ hand, but turns slightly, letting his gaze fall upon his friend once more. “Does he…talk about me?”

“All the time,” James answers honestly. “He misses you. I mean…he really misses you, Moony. He regrets what he did. But I won’t say any more about that. You should hear that from him, not me.” He pauses, gives Remus a moment to process, to stop him, if he wants. When he doesn’t speak, James continues. “He thinks you’ll never forgive him. And I don’t really know how to respond when he says it, because sometimes I think he might be right. But he cries enough without me saying that—”

“Stop,” Remus interrupts, his voice shaking. He pulls himself to his feet and paces across the floor of James’ bedroom. His fingers find purchase in his own hair, and he pulls it, James can see the tears threatening to spill. “I—fuck!” he shouts, and he looks like he’s ready to punch a hole in the wall, so James stands, places himself in Remus’ path.

“Moony,” he whispers, and he’s surprised by the threadiness of his own voice, but watching Remus stress like this is making him sick to his stomach. He threads his fingers in his hair next to Remus’, rubs them gently until he’s releasing his grip, and drags the long fingers off of his scalp, bringing them to dangle by his side. “Oh, Moony,” James sighs sadly, wiping the tears from his cheeks, holding his face between his palms.

“I want to forgive him,” Remus whimpers. His hands come up to wrap around James’ wrists, holding him in place like he’s terrified he’s going to leave him. Not that he ever would. Not that he ever could. “I want to trust him so badly it aches but I…I don’t know how.”

“Remus,” James breathes. He shifts a bit closer to him, like a reminder—I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. You have me. “Have you spoken to him? At all?” Remus shakes his head and mirrors James’ movement, taking a step towards him. Their chests brush now, and James, heart pounding from the small amount of contact, craving more, knocks his forehead against Remus’ and holds him there with the hands still on his face. “Maybe you should. Maybe it’s time.”

“Will you be with me when I do?” he asks, so soft James almost doesn’t hear him.

“Of course,” James answers. “Of course, Moony. Anything. Anything.” He’s not surprised to find that he means it—truly, really means it. He’d do anything for Remus. He considers adding this to the box, the one labeled Remus, the one that seems to keep growing and growing, the one he knows he’ll have to address sooner rather than later. But this he keeps; the knowledge that he’d do anything for Remus. He keeps it close to his chest because it’s too special to tuck away.

“Can we do it tonight?” Remus asks apprehensively. “I want to get it over with. I want…I miss him.”

“I can get him now if you want,” James says, and he ignores the feeling in his gut—the same one he got all those months ago—a concoction of sorrow and joy. Melancholy, he realizes. This also goes in his box. He nearly puts it in the Remus box, but pauses and puts it in Remus and Sirius instead. He’d get around to it eventually. Maybe.

“Please,” Remus says, and a small, self-deprecating smile pulls at his lips as he adds, “Before I lose my nerve.”

“Stay,” James orders gently. He peels his face away from Remus’ and, without second thought, stands on his tiptoes to kiss him tenderly on his forehead—perhaps a bit too tenderly, but there isn’t time to think about it. He begrudgingly pulls his hands off Remus’ cheeks and leaves the room before he can do something he’ll regret.

James sneaks out to the backyard, and his eyes find Sirius quickly. He is standing with Marlene, Dorcas, and Evan, though it’s obvious to James that his best friend is not listening to a word of the conversation around him. His eyes are gazing across the party, and when they finally latch on to James, he smiles softly and excuses himself. James meets him halfway.

“Come upstairs with me,” James says quietly. He wraps his fingers around the other boy’s forearm and pulls him in the direction of the house.

“Propositioning me in the middle of your own party, Jamie?” Sirius teases, as James leads him through the kitchen and to the stairs, but his heart isn’t behind it. James knows he’s still looking for Remus.

“Moony wants to talk to you,” James corrects, and Sirius freezes. James smiles in a way he hopes is reassuring, but truth be told, he's nervous, too. He has no clue how this conversation is going to go. “I know you’re scared, Pads,” he whispers, tucking a stray curl behind Sirius’ ear. “I won’t lie to you—it’s going to take more than one conversation. This is very likely just the beginning. But it’s something, yeah? I’ll be there the whole time.”

Sirius nods silently, surges forward to kiss James, and then lets himself be led the rest of the way to James’ bedroom.

When they walk in, Remus is sitting on the edge of James’ bed. James hears Sirius’ breath hitch at the sight of him.

“Hi,” Sirius whispers, his eyes wide. He’s pulling on his fingertips again, and James has to stop himself from grabbing his hands. Remus clears his throat but doesn’t speak.

“How about we all sit on the floor?” James asks, and the three boys settle themselves on the floor in a circle. James feels the urge again to reach his hand out, and this time he does, taking Sirius’ hand in one of his, and Remus’ in the other. He gives them both a comforting squeeze. “So, erm…this isn’t my conversation to have. I’m not here to talk, I’m just here for this—” he lifts his hands. “For support. For both of you.”

“Thank you,” Remus whispers. He turns to look at Sirius, who’s shaking so hard his teeth rattle. “I…I honestly don’t even know where to begin.”

“Remus, I—”

“Why’d you do it?”

The question rings loud and clear, bouncing around the room until it settles between the three of them, thick and heavy and ugly like tar. James gets the sudden feeling that he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t hear what they have to say. It’s too invasive, too personal, too intimate. But he swore to them he’d be here, so he stays put, refusing to show his discomfort on his face.

“I…Moony I’m so sorry,” Sirius chokes, and already tears are streaming down his face because this—this—is all he’s wanted to say to Remus for months. “I didn’t—I didn’t think, I just—”

“You never do, Sirius,” Remus sighs, his eyes wet. “You never fucking think!”

“I know, I know, Remus,” Sirius sobs. They’re not even a minute into their talk and already James’ heart is breaking to see the pain on their faces. But he doesn’t move, he sits silently and still. “I didn’t think it through, I didn’t think about the danger I was putting you in or the danger I was putting him in, I didn’t think about the consequences. I hurt you—”

“You betrayed me, Sirius,” Remus whispers, turning his gaze down to his lap. “I trusted you more than anyone and you threw it away like it was nothing. Your impulsivity got the better of you and I was the collateral damage.”

“And I will never forgive myself for that,” Sirius says timidly. James watches as he lifts a hand, reaches out as if to Remus before he hesitates and drops it back in his lap. He watches the way Sirius’ face contorts when he realizes his touch is probably the last thing Remus wants right now. “I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me, or if you never trusted me again. But please, please don’t think I don’t regret it. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life, Remus.”

“I want to,” Remus says, and James squeezes his hand because he knows how hard it is for him to admit that to anyone, but especially to Sirius. “I want to forgive you so badly it hurts, Sirius. I want nothing more than to trust you again. I don’t…I don’t know how.” Sirius swallows, and tears are shining in his eyes, making the usual grey sparkle silver. He opens his mouth to speak, but Remus cuts him off before he can. “I need time. I know I’ve already taken so much, but—”

“You can have as much time as you need,” Sirius says, and Remus nods. A tense silence settles over them before Sirius continues. “And…space? Do you…do you still need space?”

“Some,” Remus answers, finally looking up to meet Sirius’ gaze. “But I think…maybe less than before. I—I’m not sure, exactly. I don’t want space. I want to go back to being friends, I just…don’t know if I can yet.”

“Well, you’re still welcome to tell me to ‘piss off’ anytime,” Sirius says, and his words are lighthearted, he speaks them with the lilt of a joke, but James and Remus both know he’s serious. “I’ll give you whatever you need. Anything.” And James is reminded of the feeling he held so close to his own chest. Anything.

“Right now, I just need to be alone,” Remus admits, shooting James a regretful look. James smiles reassuringly. He can have as much time alone as he needs.

Sensing the conversation has reached its end, James stands and helps Remus and Sirius up behind him. The two boys share a long look, and then Remus surges forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Sirius’ waist. The shorter boy is so shocked that he barely has time to hug him back before Remus pulls away. Both boys blush, and Sirius looks as though he’s about to cry again.

“I’ll meet you in a minute,” James says to Sirius, who nods and leaves the room with one last glance at Remus. James turns to the werewolf. “Are you okay?” he asks, his hand coming up to rest on his bicep.

“I will be,” he says, smiling softly. There are still tears in his eyes. “I just need to…process. Everything. It was a lot.”

“Take as much time as you need, Moony,” James tells him, pulling him close for a hug. James has had his fair share of hugs throughout his life—more than his fair share—but hugging Remus is unlike hugging anyone else. He’s one of the only people in James’ life who’s taller than he is, so he tucks his face into Remus’ neck with ease, melting into the warm embrace, sighing happily at the soft rub of his wool sweater against his cheek. He breathes in Remus’ scent—cardamom and pine and dirt and something else, something that’s so specifically Remus that makes James’ stomach stir.

Remus rests his cheek on top of James’ head, soothing him even further. “Thank you,” he says, and then he’s pulling away and James is positively mourning the loss of his body against his own. Remus promises not to leave, promises he’ll stay the night in the guest bedroom that he usually stays in over the summer, promises that they’ll see each other in the morning. And then James steps out of his bedroom, ready to find Sirius.

Before he can go looking for his best friend, though, he pauses in the hallway, takes the feeling of mourning that was still sitting ripe on his chest, and places it tenderly in the box in his brain with Remus’ name on it, promising himself he’ll deal with it eventually.

Chapter Text

The last few weeks of the summer holidays are some of the most peaceful James has felt in months.

Well, maybe not peaceful, necessarily. Remus and Sirius are both around constantly now which makes him more and more anxious as he adds more and more things to the boxes in his brain (which he’s still not emotionally prepared to deal with), and the two of them are fighting all the time, sometimes about the Prank but most of the time about ordinary things, things that don’t deserve to be argued over.

On the other hand, Sirius and Remus are here, they’re both with James in his home and they’re tolerating one another, talking to one another. Even if most of their talking is fighting, it’s okay, because some of it is civil, and the slightest amount is even friendly. Sirius is slowly, slowly returning to his bubbly self. Although he still has bad days, bad hours, sometimes just bad minutes strewn throughout the day, he’s getting better. So, James feels happier, overall, than he has since before the Prank.

Peter comes over most days and, even with all of the fighting, it’s brilliant because the Marauders are finally back together. For August’s full moon, Remus invites Padfoot to join on their run for the first time since the prank. And although Moony is not yet entirely trustful of Padfoot, the same way Remus is not yet entirely trustful of Sirius, that full moon will always be exceptionally special to James. It’s the first full moon that the pack is all back together.

As is typical, Sirius spends most of his nights in James’ bed, curled against him after a mind-blowing orgasm. James ends most nights tucking things into his box labeled Sirius, or, on a few occasions, his box labeled Remus and Sirius, after Sirius has fallen asleep.

Sometimes, in his dreams, items from his boxes will escape, and he has to spend the morning recollecting them, reorganizing them, and putting them back into the box they belong in, all without thinking about them. He supposes he could just think about them, ponder them a bit, even. But he’s not ready for that. His subconscious reminds him that the boxes aren’t actually necessary, because he knows what all of these things mean. But Remus and Sirius’ friendship is still so rocky that it takes priority over his own feelings. Plus, he’s just…not ready to face them yet. He just isn’t.

“”

September 1^st rolls around before they know it, and the four Marauders are back on the train to Hogwarts. Remus parts from the group to go to his Prefect meeting, giving James a small smile that makes his fingers tingle with the urge to reach out and touch him. The tingle goes into the box. Sirius parts as well, telling James and Peter with a smirk that he’ll have snogged at least one boy before they arrive at Hogwarts. The comment leaves a pang in James’ chest. Last year, James was the boy Sirius snogged on the train ride to school. The pang goes in the box.

When Remus finds them later, James and Peter are in a compartment with Marlene and her new girlfriend Dorcas, and the four are discussing Quidditch. Remus smiles when he sees James and sits next to him before greeting the two girls across from them.

“Did you see Sirius on the way here?” James asks, knowing as soon as it comes out of his mouth that he shouldn’t have said anything.

Remus’ smile wavers. “Snogging Gideon.” James tenses, scrubbing the mental image out of his mind. He did not want to be thinking about Sirius and Gideon Prewett. Especially not knowing what he knew about Gideon’s escapades. He’s quite well known amongst the upper years for having sex in terribly inappropriate places all over the castle. Would he have sex with Sirius? The thought made him sick. As far as he knew, James was still the only person Sirius had gone all the way with, and he didn’t like the idea of sharing him with whatever guy had his eye at the time.

That feeling went into the box.

“”

That night at the Welcome Feast, Sirius has news for the other three Marauders.

“Gid’s asked me out,” he exclaims with a wide smile.

Part of James is thrilled to see his friend so happy, which is why he instantly regrets it when the first response out of his mouth is, “Was that before or after he had his tongue down your throat?” Sirius gives him a wounded look and James winces. “I’m sorry, that was mean. I just meant—” He stutters. What had he meant? He and Sirius are just friends. He shouldn’t feel angry at the prospect of someone else taking him on a date. “That’s great, Pads. I hope it goes well.”

It's tense, and Sirius must sense it because he narrows his eyes at him. “Why are you suddenly so pressed about my dating life?”

“Just—” he has to think of something, and fast because I have spent the last several months compartmentalizing my feelings for you so thoroughly that I can’t even acknowledge that I have them is not a good answer. “Your last three boyfriends dumped you because you wouldn’t stop sleeping with me. I don’t want you to get hurt.” That’s a pretty good lie, all things considered. Of course, the best lies all have a hint of truth to them.

Sirius beams, which is not the reaction James expects. “Well, I have good news on that front. He told me he doesn’t understand our friendship, but he doesn’t really care much if we keep sleeping together. He just wants to have ‘open communication’ about it, whatever the hell that means.”

“I think it means he wants to hear all the nitty gritty about the sex you two have,” Peter teased.

“Don’t be daft, Pete,” Remus rolled his eyes. For the first time in the conversation, James looks over at him. He looks fine on the outside, but James suspects he must be feeling at least somewhat upset beneath the surface. “He just doesn’t want you to lie to him, Padfoot. And, maybe if you’re confused, you should ask him what he means before you fuck it up.”

“Like I always do,” Sirius bites back accusingly. “That’s what you wanted to say, isn’t it?”

“Merlin, Sirius, I didn’t fucking say that,” Remus snaps. “And I don’t think it either. Maybe if that’s what your head filled in, it’s you who thinks that about yourself. Don’t project, it’s not a good look.”

“Godric, you’re so—”

“Could we not do this here?” James interrupts, his voice low in an attempt to dissuade those nearby from listening in. “Bicker as much as you want in the dorms but don’t air out your dirty laundry in front of the whole school, yeah?”

“You’re right, Prongs,” Remus concedes.

Sirius scoffs. “Since when do you kiss James’ arse?”

A flush rises to James’ cheeks, and he can’t help but glance over at Remus. His heart thumps in his chest when he sees the redness that’s spread up his neck and over his face. “Oh please, Pads, you have quite literally kissed my arse before,” James teases, hoping to take some of the attention off of Remus’ embarrassment before he gets picked on for it.

“What can I say?” Sirius smirks. “It’s a lovely arse.”

James risks another look at Remus and is pleased to find him redder than he was before. Not that he had a reason to be pleased. He certainly didn’t care what Remus thought of his arse.

Of course, what he refuses to think about is that if he were to look inside that pesky box labeled Remus, he may find evidence to the contrary.

The box stays firmly shut.

“”

True to his word, Gideon doesn’t particularly care about James and Sirius’ sexual relationship. Sirius still climbs into James’ bed most nights and when Gideon stops to talk to Sirius in the halls or the library or the Great Hall, he never comments on whatever he and James are doing, whether that be holding hands, or cuddling, or even kissing.

Once, in mid-October, Gideon finds them snogging in a broom cupboard with James’ hands down the back of Sirius’ trousers, grabbing his arse like it was his only grip on reality, and Gideon simply smirked, apologized for interrupting, and asked Sirius if he wanted to go to ‘their spot’ later that day. Sirius said yes and Gideon pecked him on the lips before he walked out, leaving the pair behind to continue where they left off. James had never even gotten the chance to pull his hands out of Sirius’ trousers.

It makes it incredibly easy for James to tuck away any feelings he might have about the curly-haired man and his (frankly, unnecessarily hot) boyfriend. Regardless of what’s hiding away in his box labeled Sirius, he at least has him in some way. Their sex may be platonic, but it’s still sex, and that’s far more than poor Remus is getting.

Remus is far less pleased about Sirius and Gideon’s relationship. He never says anything, not even to James, but James notices anyway. It’s in the way his shoulders tense when Gideon’s name is brought up in conversation, or how he finds a way to excuse himself from any room the redhead walks into. It’s in the way he fights with Sirius, nonstop, over such trivial things. The way he still can’t bring himself to trust him, even now that the Prank is almost completely behind them.

Later, if anyone were to ask, James would point to this as the thing that finally makes him reach his breaking point. Because James just wants all of his friends to be happy, but Remus isn’t. And it’s not fair, is it? Because James has Sirius, at least in part, and Remus is the one who’s in love with him. Remus has to suffer through heartbreak while James is having sex with the man he loves. So, shouldn’t James be hurt in the same way?

It's that thought that leads him to open his boxes. It starts with the one labeled Sirius because that one is easier. He already has Sirius, in some way.

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, though. That doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t ache every time they so much as hold hands. Doesn’t mean he can avoid the rush of adoration he feels when he’s holding him, or kissing him, or fucking him.

But he gets to hold him, to kiss him, to have wonderful, mind-blowing sex with him. He knows he isn’t feeling this pain the same way as Remus is. He knows he’s part of the reason Remus feels such pain to start with. Sirius isn’t exactly slick with the public displays of affection, and, no matter how hard James tries to make sure Remus doesn’t see, it’s nearly impossible to protect him completely.

No, loving Sirius doesn’t hurt James nearly as much as it hurts Remus. And so, being the glutton for punishment that he is, James opens the box labeled Remus. It’s an impulse decision in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep. And he regrets it almost instantly. Because that box is filled to the brim of soft touches and shared looks that no one else sees and moments that fill him with admiration and adoration and—

Remus is the best person James knows. Remus is funny and kind and smart and witty and Merlin, he’s handsome. His touch is electrifying, and his heart pounds every time he sees him, he makes James feel seen in a way that nobody else does. Not even Sirius sees him the way Remus does.

And it doesn’t matter. None of it matters because Remus loves Sirius. And suddenly James understands the hurt Remus feels because he can never have Remus. He can never have Remus, but now that he knows he wants him, none of his feelings will go back into that tiny box where they belong.

When James finally falls asleep, he’s staring down the third and final box—Remus and Sirius, DO NOT OPEN—hands twitching, just itching to pull the lid off.

“”

Once those two boxes are open and James is completely aware that he has somehow fallen for not just one, but two of his best friends, he finds every excuse in the book to avoid them. He goes to the Quidditch Pitch for extra training a lot in the beginning. It’s a good excuse until the first weekend of November passes, and with it, the game he was so adamant he trains consistently for.

After that, good excuses are hard to come by. If he has a sudden need to visit the library, so does Remus. If he decides to spend some time down in the kitchens, Sirius is more than excited to tag along. If he wants a nice, quiet walk down by the Black Lake, Remus thinks that a walk sounds lovely, despite the unreasonably cold temperatures. If he’s in the mood to sneak off the grounds through a secret passageway, Sirius is right on his heels.

James even changes the tried-and-true routine of his and Sirius’ late-night trysts in an attempt to spend less time with him, which makes him feel awful, but there’s only so much talking he can do before he starts to fear confessing his feelings.

Where before Sirius would climb into James’ bed and spend hours chatting with him until either they fell asleep or they had sex, now, James rushes into the sex as quickly as he can following Sirius’ arrival, knowing that as soon as he’s had an orgasm or two, he’d be asleep within minutes.

Sirius notices the change, of course, but fortunately, it doesn’t seem to upset him. In fact, he only makes one comment about the situation, one December night: “Merlin and Morgana, between you and Gideon it’s a miracle I can walk.” This is, naturally, upsetting to James because the one thing he hates thinking about more than anything else is Sirius and Gideon having sex.

James thinks to himself that the Christmas holidays can’t come soon enough—until he remembers that Sirius is now living at Potter Manor, and there’s physically no way to escape him there.

Three whole weeks with Sirius. He can survive, right?

“”

The Saturday morning of their departure, Peter sends Remus and Sirius down to breakfast without him, asking James to stay behind in the dorm for a few minutes to help him with something.

“What’s up, Pete?” James asks, glancing around the room like the answer is hiding in plain sight.

“I feel like maybe I should be asking you that,” Peter says calmly, but his eyes narrow in a way that makes James feel nervous, observed.

“Erm…what?”

“Don’t play stupid, Potter,” Peter bites. You wouldn’t think it just by looking at him, but the small round boy they call Wormtail could be fierce when he wanted to be, when he felt as though he needed to be. “You’ve been avoiding us. What gives?”

James forces a confused look on his face. He refuses to admit the truth to Peter—that he’s avoiding his friends because he’s harboring feelings for two of them. Denial is his best bet here. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” Peter sneers, but his face immediately softens. “Prongs, if something is going on, you know you can talk to us, don’t you?”

He doesn’t say what he wants to say, because what he wants to say is, How is it that you see right through me? But that would mean admitting his feelings and he would not be doing that. He swallows harshly, trying to maintain the confused look on his face. “Nothing is going on, Wormtail. If there were, you would know.”

“Like hell, we would,” Peter objected. “You don’t ever talk to us, James. You refuse to let any of us go through anything alone, but the moment you have something on your chest, you get all…avoidant. You don’t let us help you. You won’t even vent to us when you’re having a bad day or complain when things go wrong. You just…you push things down. And it’s not good for you. But this…you’re not just pushing something down;  you’re pushing us away. And I won’t let you do that.”

“I…I don’t want to talk about it, Pete,” James sighs, finally giving in. He knows his friend is just pushing because he cares, and maybe there’s even a hint of truth to what he said, but this is different. He really can’t tell anyone about this. Sirius and Remus are off the table for obvious reasons, and Pete wouldn’t get it. Plus, admitting it out loud makes it feel real in a way that admitting it to himself just doesn’t.

For a moment, Peter just looks at him, searches his face for any sign of weakness, any hint left behind that would tell him what’s going on. When he finds nothing, he sighs and shakes his head. “Fine. Keep it inside, let it fester until you explode. But stop avoiding us. Remus has been miserable all month and honestly, I’m sick of hearing him—”

“Remus has been miserable?” James interjects. In that moment, he thinks someone must’ve pried open his ribcage and tore his heart out of his chest, the ache is so bad. How could he have been so stupid? Avoiding his friends to protect his own feelings, and now Remus is miserable?

“He fucking misses you, James!” Peter shouts. “In fact, I think the only reason Sirius isn’t just as miserable is because he has Gideon to occupy him—” James flinches at this, and Peter’s eyes widen. “Oh. Oh shit.”

“No, Peter, that’s not—”

“You have a thing for Sirius,” Peter breathes, staring at James in disbelief. “That’s why you’re avoiding us, isn’t it? You have a thing for Sirius and it’s hard to be around Remus because he does, too—”

“You’re wrong,” James says loudly, squeezing his eyes shut. “Just—can you please stop, Pete?” When he opens his eyes, Peter looks more worried than anything else and James feels sick. “I don’t want to talk about it—I—I’m trying to—fuck! It’s complicated, Peter! Please just leave it.”

“Okay,” Peter concedes, finally. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push, I just…you can talk to me, James. If you want to. Or if you need to. I won’t tell the others anything you don’t want them to know.”

“I know,” James says, and, okay, maybe he’s being a little short with him, but he’s so tired and his head is too full, and he just needs Peter to let it go. “I’ll try to stop avoiding everyone. Can we go to breakfast now?”

“Of course, James.”

“”

James is determined to do everything in his power to not only enjoy his break but to give Sirius the time and attention he deserves that he’s been lacking due to James’ stupid avoidance. Despite the torture of pushing down his feelings, he really does have a great time with his best friend.

On the first full day of break, Sirius drags James to the ice-skating rink in the Muggle town near them for what he calls a “best mate date.” James is worried about making Regulus feel left out, but Effie, in all her motherly goodness, has opened her doors to Barty and Evan for the holidays, who both have difficult home lives, so Regulus is fully occupied without James and Sirius’ help.

Ice skating is, of course, incredibly fun. The two boys spend nearly three hours skating, going back and forth between gliding slowly with their arms looped together and goofy grins across their faces, and viciously racing each other around the rink, elbowing and shoving each other for the chance to get ahead. And when they get home, they curl up together on the couch with a mug of Monty’s famous hot cocoa, a warm fluffy blanket draped across their laps. When no one is around to see them, Sirius kisses James deeply, claiming he needs to warm his lips and giggling adorably when James tells him that’s bullshit.

A lot of their time is spent playing in the snow—having snowball fights or building snowmen—or flying. And when they’re not outside, they’re usually curled up together in front of the fire, trading kisses and whispers in the way they did before all of this got so goddamn complicated. It makes James’ chest ache, but it also fills a hole in his heart that he hadn’t realized was there, so he bears the ache gallantly, with his head held high.

At night, Sirius climbs into bed with James, and they talk about everything and nothing—although James expertly avoids the topics of love and crushes and the still unopened box in his head labeled with both his and Remus’ names.

Sirius doesn’t avoid such topics, however, and James is subject to story after story of Gideon Prewett, Perfect Boyfriend^TM.

He’s happy to see Sirius so happy, of course, he is. But it’s hard, too, to see the man he loves—one of the two of them—be so happy with someone else. All he can do is hold these moments close to his chest, remind himself that he brings Sirius plenty of joy as well, that their platonic relationship is fulfilling, if in a different way than he’d like, and that he gets far more with his unrequited love than most.

Of course, that thought only leads him to thoughts of Remus, and how he suffers through the same unrequited love James does, but without all the perks of having a no-boundaries platonic friendship.

And those thoughts only serve to remind him that James also suffers in the same way, when it comes to Remus. Because no matter how much it confuses him, there’s no way to deny it. James loves two people, and neither of them returns his feelings. And he wants Remus in a way that he doesn’t have to want Sirius because he has Sirius in so many ways that he’ll never have Remus.

He tries his best to focus on the positives. He tries to push down his hurt, his sorrow. He tries to enjoy the time he spends with Sirius, to not think about his unrequited feelings, and to be happy for him and Gideon, because he treats Sirius right, and Sirius seems to really like him.

And so, this, what he has with Sirius, their no-boundaries platonic friendship, has to be enough. It has to be enough for him, or he won’t survive it. If he feels the pain for Sirius that he does for Remus, he won’t survive it.

“”

Christmas Day has been James’ favorite day of the year since he was old enough to know what Christmas is. He loves the food, the time spent with family, and, of course, the gifts. But James’ favorite part of Christmas is giving. Every year, he spends hours upon hours scouring stores and mail-order catalogs for the perfect gift for every person he loves. And then on Christmas morning, they get to open the gift that James spent so long poring over, and the reaction is always worth the time spent—because the gift is always perfect. James has an impeccable track record of picking Christmas gifts, and this year is no different.

Like they do every year, the group settles down to open presents first thing in the morning. And like he does every year, James insists that they take turns opening so that he can watch all of his loved ones opening their gifts. At this, Barty complains, calling James a joy-hater, and Regulus elbows him, reminding him that they’re guests in someone’s home, but Barty’s reaction just seems to make Monty and Effie laugh, so James brushes it off.

James watches with glee as his loved ones unwrap what he’s gifted them—a delicate, gold antique locket for his mother, hand-blown whiskey glasses for his father, a new set of marble chessmen for Regulus. He had even picked up gifts for Barty and Evan once he’d learned they’d be around for Christmas, although he didn’t know them very well and had a hard time imagining what they’d like. In the end, he got Evan a pair of cufflinks in the shape of snakes with small emeralds for eyes, and for Barty an elegant silver dagger, which Regulus promptly snatches out of his hands, telling him he’s only allowed to have it when he’s there to supervise.

Finally, the only person who hasn’t opened James’ gift is Sirius.  Although strictly speaking, this gift couldn’t exactly be unwrapped. James doesn’t bring it up until Sirius has opened the last of his gifts and is pouting at James adorably the moment he realizes that none of the presents in his pile were from his best friend.

James clears his throat, biting back a smile, breathing deeply to stifle the way his heart pounds in anticipation. “Your gift is outside, Padfoot,” he says. Sirius cocks his head to the side like a dog, a confused look on his face, but when James stands and offers his hand, he takes it, trailing behind him to the shed out back, never separating their fingers.

When they reach the shed, James instructs Sirius to close his eyes before he opens the door and guides him out of the snow and into the stifling heat of the warming charms in the room. And when James tells him to open his eyes, the pure, unadulterated joy on his face makes the difficulty and price of acquiring such a gift worthwhile.

Sirius spares a split second to embrace James tightly before bounding over to his brand-new motorbike. He takes a moment to admire it—all shiny silver and black leather—before he picks up the leather jacket resting on the seat and slides it onto his arms. It fits perfectly, and for a moment James regrets buying it for him because he looks absolutely enchanting in it and the sight makes heat pool in his groin.

It only gets worse when Sirius finally gives in and swings a leg over the bike, wiggling his bum to get comfortable before he leans forward, grasping the handlebars with thin, pale fingers and—

The motorbike was a terrible idea. Sirius looks sexy as hell on it and James is, frankly, embarrassingly aroused by the sight.

But then he looks up at James and his smile is so big that it makes his cheeks round and his eyes crinkle and—

The motorbike was a wonderful idea. A perfect idea. And really, does it matter that Sirius on a motorbike is giving him inappropriate mental images when he’ll be the one to take the other boy to bed tonight?

Finally, Sirius dismounts the bike and runs back to James, wrapping his arms tightly around his torso. James returns the hug happily, lets himself bask in the way Sirius hides his face in his neck, the way his lips brush the soft skin there when he speaks. “Thank you, James.”

James thinks he might melt right there, that his skin and bones and muscles might all turn to mush there on the floor of the shed. And there’s nothing he wants more in that moment than to sweep Sirius into a kiss, but he can hear his parents’ voices behind him, can hear Regulus and Barty and Evan and he knows this isn’t the time or place. So, he tells himself that tonight, when Sirius crawls into his bed, he’ll allow himself to indulge—just a little bit. He’ll kiss him a bit more, hold him a bit longer, let his touches linger.

Yes, he will allow himself that. He’ll consider it a Christmas present to himself and hope Sirius doesn’t notice if he’s more tender than usual.

“”

On New Year’s Eve every year, the Potters throw an epic party. And on New Year’s Eve every year, Peter and Remus come for the party and stay until it’s time to go back to Hogwarts. It’s always one of his favorite parts of the Christmas holidays, being with his friends without school or the sweltering heat of summer. They go sledding and ice-skating and they have snowball fights and drink, frankly too much of Monty’s hot cocoa.

This year, a second feeling joins James’ excitement in the week leading up to New Year’s Eve—anxiety. He’s acutely aware of the fact that he’s going to see Remus after spending so much of the fall term avoiding him and that he swore to Peter that he wouldn't do it anymore. And he’d meant it. He misses Remus. He misses Remus so goddamn much, but after avoiding him for so long, he can’t help but worry that he had messed things up.

In the end, he needn’t have worried. Remus steps out of the floo the morning of New Year’s Eve, takes one look at James, and just beams. Relief floods James’ chest and he bounds forward to hug Remus, to hold him close for what is probably a bit too long to be considered friendly, but James doesn’t even care because he missed him.

That day leading up to the party is one of the best James has had in a while. The Marauders start their day with a snowball fight and Remus calls dibs on having James on his team, which makes his heart swell even though he knows it doesn’t mean anything. It must be because James is such a good Chaser that Remus wants to be on his team. His aim is, after all, impeccable.

When they’ve been in the snow for a while, Effie calls them inside for a cup of cocoa and lunch, and the four of them eat huddled together around the fire. James sits right in between Sirius and Remus and he’s pretty sure he’s having heart palpitations from being so close to both of them at the same time.

When James trips over his words one too many times, Peter gives him a knowing look but, to James’ relief, says nothing. He has a feeling Peter has pieced together far more than he should know after their conversation before the break.

The four boys spend some time that afternoon helping Effie and Monty set up for the party, but when Sirius starts getting antsy, they get shooed away, back to the yard, and they decide to go flying instead. Well, Sirius and James decide to go flying. Peter and Remus are perfectly content to watch from the ground. Not that James has a problem with that—it allows him to show off a bit with flips and maneuvers that he doesn’t usually get to do while playing Quidditch. He notes with pleasure that Remus doesn’t take his eyes off of him, although he chalks it up to all of his cool tricks that he never gets to see.

As soon as the sun starts to set, the boys head inside, spending a few minutes warming up by the fire again, before heading upstairs to change for the party. As she does every year, Effie insists that the boys dress nicely, although she doesn’t mind whether they wear Muggle or Wizarding clothes, which James appreciates. As soon as he bought himself Muggle clothes for the first time, Wizarding clothes felt stuffy, and he rarely wears them anymore if he can help it.

He pulls on grey trousers and a red button-up, black boots, and his black winter coat, all charmed extensively to keep him warm in the bite of the winter air. He looks in the mirror and ruffles his messy mop of hair before he peaks his head into the bathroom where Sirius is busy getting ready.

James nearly gasps out loud when he sees him. He’s wearing black trousers, a white button-up, and the leather jacket James bought him for Christmas. There’s black liner on his eyelids and rouge on his cheeks and he’s painting his lips red, and his black curls are falling just right, framing his smooth, ivory face. He’s the picture of beauty.

Sirius puts the cap on his lipstick and smirks playfully at James’ reflection in the mirror. “Like what you see, Prongsie?”

And maybe it’s the nickname, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s wearing the jacket that James bought him, or maybe it’s how bloody beautiful he looks, but James is overtaken by bravery—or, no, impulsivity, probably—so he steps forward, presses his chest against Sirius’ back, and wraps his fingers tightly around his hips. He moves one hand up, brushes the curls away from his neck so he can lean in, and presses kisses in a line from the crook of his neck up to the spot behind his ear. He lets his lips brush against Sirius’ ear as he whispers, “And if I do?”

Sirius bites his lower lip in an attempt to muffle his quiet moan. “If you want something from me you should take it now,” he says, low and thick in a way that goes straight to his cock. “Gideon’s spending the night tonight, remember?”

And fuck, James hadn’t remembered, and the reminder is all that he needs to dim his arousal enough to take a step backward. He forces a smile on his face. “I suppose I’ll leave you for Gid, then,” he teases, and his voice doesn’t sound very convincing to his own ears but Sirius laughs, so James counts it as a success. “I hope he knows how lucky he is,” he says, softer this time, his voice laced with sincerity. It’s the closest he’s come yet to revealing his secret, and his heart is thumping as he says it, but if he doesn’t say it now, he might not ever. “You look beautiful, Sirius.”

Sirius flushes, a small grin on his face, and he looks down, finally breaking the eye contact they had held in the mirror. When he looks back up, his typical smirk is on his lips. “I do, don’t I?” he asks. James rolls his eyes, but there’s still a fond smile on his lips. “Now get out, you’re distracting me. I’m almost ready.”

James lets out an amused huff and walks out of the bathroom, giving Sirius’ arse a small slap on his way, causing the other boy to laugh.

When he gets down to the sitting room, Remus and Peter are there, and James freezes, his smile falling from his face to be replaced with awe, or maybe hunger, because Remus, who almost always wears baggy trousers and a sweater two sizes too big is wearing form-fitting trousers that make James’ mouth water and a forest green dress shirt that hugs his biceps just right. His winter coat is hanging off of his arm and James wants to burn the damn thing because as soon as Remus puts it on, he’ll be hiding those perfect arms and—

James is aware that he’s ogling but he can’t seem to stop. And then Peter goes and makes everything worse, excusing himself to the kitchen with an annoying smirk on his face and so Remus and James are in the sitting room alone and Remus looks like he just walked out of James’ wet dreams and—

“Are you alright, Prongs?” Remus asks, and there’s genuine concern on his face, which makes James nearly sigh in relief because it means he thinks James is just, like, in a trance or something, and doesn’t realize that James is basically drooling over his shoulders—“James!”

The call of his name draws his attention, and his eyes snap up from Remus’ chest to his face. He swallows. His mouth is far too dry, and he thinks he might be a little bit dizzy. “I’m fine,” he chokes. He clears his throat and tries again. “I’m fine,” he says a second time, this time much smoother, much less like he’s turned on just by looking at the other boy. The thought has him wrapping his coat tighter around his body in an attempt to hide the growing problem in his trousers.

Remus blushes and James can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about, if maybe he did notice how intensely James had been staring at him. He wonders if it’s a flustered blush or an embarrassed blush. He hopes it’s the former. He doubts it, but then again, the tension in the room is thick enough to be cut with a knife so maybe…

He shoves the thought out of his head. That path, the path of maybe is far too dangerous, and it only leads to him getting hurt because Remus doesn’t return his feelings. He’s in love with Sirius, James reprimands himself. A voice at the back of his head reminds him that he’s in love with Sirius as well, that maybe Remus could be interested in two people at once, just like James is, but—

No. It’s weird that James is in love with them both. That’s not how love is supposed to work. He’s an anomaly, he can’t expect that Remus would feel the same, can’t even hope for it. All he can hope is that neither Sirius nor Remus discover his feelings, or that he can move on before his unrequited love eats at his soul long enough to kill him.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Remus asks, taking a step towards James and Merlin, he doesn’t think he can stand to be any closer to Remus right now, he’s only a meter away now, but James is rooted to the spot, his feet stuck to the floor as if they’ve been charmed. Remus takes yet another step closer to James, reaches his hand out towards his shoulder, and—

James flinches away from his touch, afraid that if Remus touches him he’ll be done for, but a flash of hurt crosses Remus’ face and James has never hated himself more. “Sorry, I—I didn’t—” James stutters. He has no idea what to say, just knows that he hurt Remus’ feelings and he’d be perfectly happy if he just keeled over right where he’s standing—

“It’s fine,” Remus interrupts, a strained smile on his face. James wants to cry. Wants to actually drop to the floor, curl in a ball, and sob because Remus is sad and it’s his fault. “Let’s get out back. I think there’s a few other people here already.”

James nods—it’s all he can do at the moment—and follows Remus through the house and out the back door. He makes a beeline for the drinks table, passing Gideon fucking Prewett on his way, checks to make sure his Mum isn’t around to see and pours himself a finger of Firewhiskey. He throws the drink back quickly and pours a second one to sip as he puts on a brave face and makes his way into the thin crowd of people who have already gathered.

“Merlin, I leave you two alone for five minutes and you both look like someone’s kicked your puppy,” a voice says from behind James. He wheels around to see Peter standing there, an amused smirk on his lips. “I thought some alone time might be helpful, but I was clearly wrong. Of course, I could be misreading the situation, but I highly doubt that.”

“I—Wormtail what the hell are you going on about?” James asks, just a touch exasperated. He has a feeling he knows exactly what Peter is talking about, but he won’t give any sign that Peter’s right until he has no other possible option.

“Your big fat crush on Remus,” Peter laughs. “I haven’t been able to get our conversation out of my head. Before the break I thought it was Sirius, but it’s not, is it? It’s Remus.”

James swallows. Peter was half right. It just served as a reminder that people weren’t supposed to be in love with two people at once. He feels his insides squirm. “You’re delusional, Pete,” he manages to say, but he knows he’s not fooling him.

Peter sighs and gives James an indecipherable look. “For what it’s worth, I think you should go for it. He can’t stay hooked on Sirius forever. He’ll have to move on at some point. And…I think you two would be good together—”

“Don’t,” James interrupts, and he can feel the sting in his eyes that comes with tears, but he can’t cry here, he can’t cry now so he swallows his feelings down, blinks the tears away, and gives Peter a steely look. “Don’t talk like that. Don’t get my hopes up. It’ll only make it worse in the long run.”

“James—”

“Just don’t.” With that he turns on his heel and makes his way back to the drinks table, ignoring decorum and pouring several shots of Firewhiskey into his cup before walking back into the crowd, avoiding Peter’s sharp gaze as he goes.

“”

“5…4…3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The crowd of people in the backyard of Potter Manor cheer delightfully. James raises his glass and clinks it with Evan’s—whose company he had been keeping for the last hour in a drunken attempt to avoid Peter, Remus, and all the annoyingly happy couples around him.

He looks around in irritation as couples begin to kiss and freezes when he sees the last two people he wants to see at the moment. He watches as Gideon gathers Sirius into his arms, whispers something into his ear that makes him laugh, and kisses him, and keeps kissing him, and kissing him and—

James barely makes it to the toilet before he throws up the contents of his stomach, and his Mum is at his side, rubbing his back, chastising him for drinking too much. He presses his face to the cool porcelain of the toilet seat. His face is warm and he’s not sure if it’s the alcohol, the anger of seeing Gideon kissing Sirius like he loves him, the shame of avoiding Remus for the last hour, or the embarrassment at having his Mum here while he’s throwing up from overdrinking. And okay, that last one isn’t fair. James loves his Mum and appreciates that she’s here with him instead of at the party she’s supposed to be hosting, but he can’t help the embarrassment any more than he can help any of his other feelings, and, damn it, he’s too drunk to put any of them in a box and—

“Shh,” Effie hushes him, and pulls him into her arms, and that’s when he realizes that he’s crying. “It’s okay, love. It’ll all be okay.”

James isn’t sure how long they sit like that on the bathroom floor. He only knows that being held by his Mum is the most calming feeling in the world. He should’ve asked her for a good cuddle ages ago.

When he’s finally calm she leaves him just long enough to get a glass of water and a vial of Pepper-Up. He downs both and immediately feels better—well, physically. He’s no longer nauseous, his head no longer hurts, he’s lowered himself from drunk to just tipsy. He still feels angry and ashamed and hopelessly and miserably in love with two people he can’t have—no amount of alcohol in the world could erase that last bit. He’s a bit embarrassed with himself for even trying, but it had felt good to be drunk and aloof for a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Effie asks, brushing her fingers through his hair.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” James answers. He draws his knees up to his chest and leans his forehead against them, wrapping his arms tightly around his legs.

“If you don’t want to talk to me about it, I can’t make you,” she says, her voice still gentle, but firm as well. “But please don’t lie to me and tell me nothing is wrong. You’re my son, James. I know you. I know when you’re unwell.”

He sighs, his eyes squeezing shut in an attempt not to cry. He realizes just how badly he does want to talk to his Mum. She always knows what to say. Always makes him feel better. Back in his fourth and fifth years, anytime he felt miserable about Lily, he went straight to his Mum.

He wants to do the same thing now, but the situation is too convoluted, and he doesn’t think he can bring himself to tell her that he’s in love with two different people. With two men. Not that she’d care about the male part, his mother is wonderfully accepting—Sirius’ relationship with Gideon being a prime example—but she doesn’t know he’s bisexual, and telling her about his feelings also means coming out.

“Is it about Lily again?” Effie asks a moment later. “Because I saw her kissing Mary and I know that must be hard—”

“I—what?” James sputters, snapping his head up to meet his Mum’s gaze. “Lily was kissing Mary?” Effie gives him a terrified look, and James laughs. For the first time all night he laughs, because in all his feelings, he forgot to tell her that he’s long over Lily and, despite his surprise that she was kissing Mary MacDonald of all people, he is incredibly happy for her. “It’s fine, Mum. I’ve been over Lily for a long time.”

“Oh,” Effie breathes. “I didn’t know. You didn’t tell me.”

“Sorry,” James smiles half-heartedly. “A lot going on up here recently,” he continues, pointing to his temple. “I guess it just slipped my mind to tell you.”

“That’s quite alright, love,” Effie says. She moves her hand to his head and plays with his curls. He sighs. “Is there…someone else? Is that what this is about?”

James feels a tug in his chest to just spill everything. But there’s that pesky worry in the way, the worry that there’s something wrong with him for loving more than one person that makes him not willing to admit to her the true extent of his feelings. He gathers his thoughts, sorts through his options, tries to create boxes of half-truths he could tell her, before settling on the one that’s the most honest.

There’s no point in bringing up Sirius, after all, since he has a boyfriend. It’s more clear-cut—there’s no possibility with Sirius, no maybe, no one day. Plus, he at least gets sex with Sirius. No, there’s no point in bringing him up to Effie. That’s not the part of all of this that makes him miserable.

So, the most honest truth is this: “I’m in love with Remus, but he’s in love with Sirius.”

To his Mum’s credit, she doesn’t even blink at the fact that her only son is in love with a bloke. No, her first and only reaction is to wrap her arms around him and pull him close. She doesn’t say a word, not at first. She just holds him, and when he cries, she wipes away his tears.

“Unrequited love is one of life’s most painful challenges,” she says eventually. Her voice calms James enough that the tears begin to slow. “I can’t imagine how it feels when the person in question is such a close friend. You are very brave, my sweet boy, to stand by his side even though it hurts.”

“I haven’t been a very good friend to him the last month or two, actually,” James admits. He sniffs, and Effie passes him her handkerchief. He wipes his nose before he continues. “I’ve been avoiding him. Which is stupid, because I spent all day with him today and it made me realize how much I’ve missed him and—”

His sentence is interrupted by a knock on the door, and it occurs to James that they’re still sitting on the bathroom floor. His Mum shouts, “Occupied!” But the door cracks open anyway, and Regulus pokes his head in.

He looks straight at James, ignores the tears on his face, and says, “Oh good, you’re alive. Can I tell everyone you’ll be out soon?”

“I—everyone?” James asks.

“Well, your friends,” Regulus clarifies. “No one saw where you disappeared to, Evan just said you looked like you were going to be sick and ran inside, but it’s been nearly an hour and no one’s seen you, so—”

“Tell them I’ll be out in five minutes,” James says. Regulus nods and pulls his head out of the doorway, closing the door behind himself. James turns towards Effie. “Can you glamour me so I don’t look like I’ve been crying?”

She smiles sadly at him but pulls out her wand anyway and casts a quick spell at his face. When he gets up to look in the mirror, he sees no traces of tears—no red eyes or nose, no puffiness. She stands, presses a kiss to his cheek, and exits the bathroom without another word.

James takes a few minutes to ready himself—relieves himself, washes his hands, messes with his hair a bit, and spells his wrinkled clothes flat—before leaving the bathroom, ready as he’ll ever be to face the world.

Chapter Text

Five nights later, James, Peter, and Sirius run with Remus on the night of the full moon. Potter Manor has a large forest behind it, perfect for hiding in until the moon sets in the early hours of the morning.

Running with Remus is exhilarating, freeing. Being a deer is a great way to avoid his feelings, and it makes James feel good to take care of Moony.

The other three Marauders take turns lying with Remus each moon after his transformation back to human. It takes a lot out of him, and he sleeps more soundly with someone at his side. Plus, it’s good to have one of them there if he’s injured himself so they can keep an eye on his wound.

This month, there are fortunately no injuries, but it’s also technically Peter’s turn to stay with him. James can’t fight off the deep-rooted desire to just take care of him, to be with him, and Peter must sense it because James only has to look at his friend for him to offer to trade.

It takes a fair bit of maneuvering to get Remus up all the stairs to his bedroom at the Manor, but this month’s transformation was better than most, and he’s more conscious than usual, so the Marauders can get him up easier than they usually can. Once they have him upstairs, they lay him in his bed as gently as possible, pulling the comforter over him, and covering him up to his chin, because he gets chilly after the full moon, especially in the winter.

When Peter and Sirius bid goodnight, James casts a Scouring Charm on himself and climbs into bed next to Remus. He’s immediately confronted with the feeling of being an absolute idiot because he somehow forgot that taking care of Remus after the full moon meant sleeping in the same bed as him.

It’s fine, James thinks. I’ll just lay over here on this side, we won’t even touch, he’ll barely even know I’m here, and—

Unfortunately, fate has other plans. Because James has somehow also forgotten how clingy Remus gets after the full moon. They haven’t been in bed for very long before Remus shuffles over to him, tossing a leg across his thighs and an arm around his waist, his cheek pressed against James’ shoulder.

His heart is pounding against his ribcage, and his hands are shaking and sweating, but he adjusts how he’s laying anyway, putting an arm around Remus’ shoulders so the taller boy can rest his head on his chest, all the while sending up silent prayers to a god he doesn’t believe in that Remus can’t hear how fast his heart is racing.

“”

Remus sleeps through most of the next day. This is how the full moons go. He’ll sleep until about dinner time, be up until midnight, and then the next morning he’ll wake up at a reasonable hour, finally putting his sleep schedule back to normal.

That’s why, when James wakes up two hours past midnight the night after the full, he’s so surprised to see Remus sitting on the couch in the sitting room. James himself hadn’t been able to sleep, tossing and turning for hours before he finally gave up and decided he might as well spend some time doing something to occupy his mind. He had decided he’d head to the sitting room with a book, maybe light a fire, and get cozy in his favorite armchair.

But Remus is there when he arrives. The fire is already lit, and Remus is sitting on one side of the loveseat, feet tucked up underneath him. His elbow is on the armrest and his chin is in the palm of his hand and he’s staring distantly into the fire. He doesn’t seem to notice James’ presence, and for a moment, James takes advantage of it.

He stands in the doorway and takes in the sight of him. He’s wearing fuzzy socks and flannel pants and a sweater so big he’s swimming in it. He looks so soft and cozy and warm, and all James wants to do is lean into him, slide his fingers under the jumper, feel the taut, muscled abdomen that he knows resides under it.

James makes his way into the room before he can be caught staring. Instead of sitting in his favorite armchair, as he had planned, he sets his book down on the coffee table and sits on the loveseat next to Remus, who only looks up at him when he feels the cushion sink next to him.

Remus gives James a small smile. “What are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” James says. He fights the urge to reach out and touch him, to pull him close and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. “What are you doing up? Shouldn’t you still be sleeping off the moon?”

“Can’t seem to turn my brain off,” Remus says. He shifts the way he’s sitting, turning his body towards James so he can tuck his toes under James’ thigh. James stares down at the spot where they’re touching—through two layers of fabric, mind you—and without thinking, he wraps his fingers loosely around his ankle. But Remus doesn’t complain, doesn’t shoo him away, so he moves his hand up enough to touch skin instead of sock and rubs circles into his shin with his thumb.

“Me too,” James admits a moment later. When he finally looks back up to Remus, he looks pensive—his eyebrows pressed together, his lip between his teeth. James wants to smooth out the crease of his brow, wants to kiss him to get him to release his lip. He doesn’t move an inch.

“You’re always overthinking,” Remus breathes. “I wish I could take that from you. I…you can always talk to me, you know?”

“I know,” James says. His stomach turns as if it knows before his brain does what he’s going to say next. He’s not sure, exactly, what leads him to finally say it. Maybe it’s sleep deprivation. Maybe it’s desperation to know whether there’s any possibility that Remus returns his feelings. Maybe it’s longing for confirmation that there isn’t anything wrong with him. He says it before he even knows he’s saying it: “Do you think it’s possible to be in love with two people at once?”

“Yes,” is out of Remus’ mouth before James even finishes the question and his chest floods with relief. “I mean—yeah. Yes, I do.”

“Is there someone else?” James asks, again without thinking about it. This time, he wishes he could take it back as soon as it’s out. Because he knows the answer. No. He’s in love with Sirius. That’s all. But his mouth, the traitor, finishes his question. “Is there someone else besides Sirius?”

He can hear Remus’ voice already—No, it’s just him.

But then he says something completely unexpected. He says, “Yes.”

James’ eyes snap up to meet his, and for the first time since he opened his boxes, he doesn’t turn off the voice that says maybe.

“Is Sirius one of your someones, too?” Remus asks.

“Yes,” James admits.

Remus laughs, bright and boisterous, and James can’t help but smile. It truly is laugh-worthy. Two friends falling in love with the same unavailable bloke is, James has to admit, objectively funny.

“Who’s your other someone?” Remus asks, catching James completely off guard.

“Don’t want to say,” James counters. “Who’s yours?”

“Don’t want to say,” Remus echoes. “Not that it’d do any good to admit it anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James wonders. The hand wrapped around Remus’ calf moves up an inch, rubbing circles into a new patch of skin. Remus shivers.

“I don’t have a shot with him either,” he whispers. His hands find a loose thread at the bottom of his sweater. James tries to ignore the way Remus’ frown makes his heart break.

“He also has a boyfriend then?” James asks. Remus pauses, then shakes his head. “Oh. He’s straight?” Again, Remus shakes his head. James is vaguely aware that his heart is racing, but he ignores it. “Why don’t you have a shot, then?”

Remus looks up at him then, his green eyes glassy, and says the most heartbreaking thing James has ever heard him say. “Who could possibly fall in love with me?”

“Don’t,” James chokes, and he can feel tears pooling in his own eyes, but he pushes them down. Can feel his heart shattering inside his chest, but leaves the pieces lying there. He doesn’t have time to put it back together, not now, not when Remus thinks he’s impossible to love. “Don’t you dare say that.” His grip on Remus’ leg tightens of its own accord. There are words on his tongue and if he doesn’t say them, he’ll regret it, and he still might regret it if he does say them, but it’s the only thing he can think of to convince Remus that he’s wrong. So, when he opens his mouth, what comes out is, “You are so easy to love, Remus Lupin.”

Remus’ breath hitches, and his eyes widen like he’s wondering if James really meant to imply that he was in love with him. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, so James keeps going, feeling emboldened by the look on his face.

“Loving you is as easy as breathing, Moony,” James spills, and now that he’s started, he can’t stop. “Easier, really, because sometimes you have to think about breathing, but I’ve never had to think about loving you. It’s not something I have to think about, it’s just there, in my soul, in every fiber of my being. Loving you is so deeply embedded in me that it’s a part of me. You are not hard to love. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. The only hard part of loving you is not having you, so don’t you dare say—”

There are lips on his. Hands are cupping his cheeks and thumbs brushing tears from beneath his eyes and there are lips on his.

James doesn’t think, he just does—he kisses Remus back like the world will end if he doesn’t, runs his fingers through his hair, holds him by the neck, and pulls him closer, closer. Remus pulls his feet out from under James and moves his long legs out of the way. And then he leans back and he’s not breaking the kiss, he’s lowering James with him until they’re lying together on their sides face-to-face on the tiny sofa. Both of their feet are spilling off the end and Remus is close enough to the edge that James fears he’s going to fall off, but he tangles their legs together, wraps his arms tightly around him so that he doesn’t.

And they’re kissing. Remus is kissing him and all he can do is kiss him back before Remus changes his mind and decides he doesn’t want him anymore.

Except when he finally breaks the kiss, he leans his forehead against James’ and says, “Say it. I need to hear you say it.”

And James says, “I love you.”

All of his hairs are standing on end, his skin is on fire, his newly reformed heart is pounding against his ribcage hard enough to bruise, all in anticipation of Remus’ response.

“I love you, too.”

James laughs. Maybe out of relief, or maybe because this whole thing is completely absurd, or maybe because he never thought he’d hear Remus say those words to him and he’s completely elated. Whatever the cause, he laughs, even when tears well up in his eyes, he laughs. He buries his face in Remus’ chest and laughs, and he must look completely ridiculous but that’s fine, because then Remus starts to laugh too and the sound is like the fire in the hearth, and snowfall, and hot cocoa, and all of the things that make him happy because Remus loves him.

When his laughter finally dies down, James looks back up at Remus, looks into his green eyes, and reaches a hand up to brush the hair out of them. He smiles softly, then bites his lip, and then beams because he isn’t sure he’s ever felt so much joy in his life. “I think I might be dreaming,” he whispers, and Remus’ smile grows.

“Me too,” he responds. He leans forward, nuzzles his nose against James’ in a way that’s very canine-like, and James can’t help but giggle.

“Stay with me tonight,” James offers. “Then when we wake up in the morning in the same bed, we’ll know it was real.”

“Okay,” Remus agrees. “But maybe you should stay with me. I have a feeling your bed is already occupied.”

James’ smile drops. He hadn’t even considered the technicalities of how this would work. Why would he? He never even thought this would happen. They still hadn’t even defined what this is.

“What’s going on inside your head, James?” Remus asks softly, green eyes searching his hazel ones for the answer.

“I’ll stop sleeping with Sirius, if you want,” James offers, and that in itself is a testament to how much he loves Remus because he and Sirius swore no one would come between them.

Fortunately, Remus shakes his head. “I can’t ask that of you. It’s an important part of your friendship. I don’t mind it.”

“Maybe we should talk about it when we’re not dead exhausted,” James says.

“Not necessary,” Remus counters. “I…I’ve thought about this if I’m being honest. I don’t care about that part of your friendship.”

“But…it’s not fair,” James whimpers. “We both love him, it’s not fair that I get to be with him that way and you don’t.”

“But I have you,” Remus answers. “Or I’d like to. Maybe that’s a bit presumptuous.” He blushes, and Merlin he’s so pretty with his cheeks all pink like that. James reaches a hand up to his face and brushes the back of his knuckles against the warm, pink skin.

“You have me,” James confirms, and Remus’ face lights up.

“That’s all I need,” he says. He places a hand in James’ hair and brushes through the curls gently, pulling apart the tangles with delicate fingers. Far more delicate than James would’ve guessed given the size of his hands. James breathes through his nose and puts aside the thoughts of Remus’ large hands into a box. He doesn’t bother to lid it or shelve it, because this box isn’t a secret. It’s not for hiding. It’s just for storing the impure thoughts he’s having about Remus’ hands while they have a serious conversation. “I won’t lie and say that I don’t wish I could have you both. But I don’t need him. Not if I have you. I love you, James. That’s enough for me.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” James asks, one last time.

“Positive,” Remus agrees.

“You’ll tell me if you change your mind?”

“Of course.”

James believes him. Of course, he does. Remus is nothing if not trustworthy. Well, he’s also smart. And kind. Funny. Handsome. Really, really handsome. James wonders if Remus knows. It occurs to him that he can just…tell him now. So, he does.

“You’re so handsome,” James says. “I mean really, really beautiful. Like a painting. Or a sculpture. A piece of art.”

His whole face turns red. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not,” James says quickly. He pushes down the urge to smack him upside the head for his self-deprecation. The urge itself is enough to tell James it is way past his bedtime. “I think you’re the most handsome man I know.”

“Handsomer than Sirius?” Remus asks, and James knows he’s diverting the attention away from himself, but he takes the bait anyway.

“Please,” he rolls his eyes. “Sirius is pretty. You’re…rugged and manly and…Merlin help me, really fucking fit. Handsome. And please just take the compliment, Moony, because I could say nice things about you all night.”

For a moment, Remus hides his red face in James’ hair, and James thinks it’s just about the most adorable thing ever. “Thank you,” he concedes eventually, pulling his face out of James’ hair. James opens his mouth to say something else, but it turns into a yawn. Remus kisses his nose (again, adorable) and brushes a stray curl from his forehead. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

When James nods, Remus rolls clumsily off the couch and stands to help James up, pulling him in for a kiss the moment he’s on his feet. It’s short and chaste, but it reminds James that everything that’s happened over the last half hour is real.

He lets himself be led up the stairs, ignoring the fact that it’s his house, and follows Remus into his bedroom, into his bed, under his covers. He finally lands in Remus’ arms and barely has time to answer Remus’ “I love you” with an “I love you, too” before he falls quickly into the deepest sleep of his life.

“”

“Shh, you’re gonna wake them.”

“You shh, idiot.”

“You’re the idiot, idiot.”

“They’re the idiots. Took them bloody long enough.”

“Merlin, I didn’t even know they liked each other. How long has this been going on Wormtail?”

“I’m not entirely sure, actually. Too long, if I had to guess.”

“Well, good for them. They’re cute.”

“You say that like you’re not gonna tease them at every opportunity.”

“…Both can be true.”

“Either shut up or go away,” James grumbles, keeping his eyes firmly shut. He’s keenly aware of the position his friends have found him and Remus in—cuddled up in the werewolf’s bed, James’ head on his chest, arms wound tightly around each other, legs tangled together. But at the moment James can’t find it within himself to care. All he cares about is the fact that he’s in Remus’ bed and they’re cuddling and last night was real. And he would love more than anything for Sirius and Peter to be gone by the time Remus wakes up.

“Oh, shit,” Sirius mumbles, and James can hear two sets of footsteps walking away from the bed and towards the door. “Sorry Prongsie.” The door opens and then closes, and James is blessedly alone with his—what? What is Remus to him now?

“Thank Merlin, I thought they’d never leave,” Remus groans, his chest vibrating under James’ head. His voice is still thick with sleep, low and rough, and really, really fucking sexy. James has heard Remus’ morning voice before, of course, they’ve shared a dorm for years. But never like this—never the moment he wakes up, never with his head on Remus’ chest, never as his…well, whatever the hell he was to Remus now. Never the morning after they’ve confessed their love.

James turns his head up to gaze at Remus and finds the other boy already staring down at him, a dopey grin on his face. “I thought…when I woke up I thought it must’ve been a dream,” Remus admits quietly. James feels his face heat up and he isn’t sure if it’s the words themselves or the way Remus says them. Or maybe it’s the way Remus has one hand on his back, under his sweater, rubbing circles into his skin, and one carding through his hair. Or maybe it’s that James’ hand is resting over his heart, his ear pressed against his chest so he can feel and hear the way Remus’ heart pounds. “But then you were here, and I knew it was real.”

James’ breath catches in his throat. It was real. Of course, it was real. But he still can’t quite believe it. After all the time he spent, so sure he had no chance with him. “Say it again,” James whispers, looking earnestly into Remus’ green eyes. “What you said last night. Say it again. Please.”

“I love you,” Remus replies and James’ heart is so full it could burst. Remus smiles teasingly. “Your turn.”

“I love you, Moony,” James gushes, and he can’t help the beam that spreads across his face with the words. So long he’s held those three words inside him, boxed away or held close to his chest. He didn’t need to hide them anymore. Didn’t need to hide his love any longer.

“Can I kiss you?” Remus asks. James can’t speak, can’t think, can’t breathe when Remus is looking at him like that—like he wants him, like he needs him. Like he loves him. All he can do is nod, but it’s enough. Remus leans down slowly, and James cranes his neck to meet him halfway, and then, and then—

Remus’ lips are soft and plush and warm, and his hand that was in his hair drifts down to his back and his arms tighten around James’ waist, pulling him closer, closer, closer. James props himself up onto his elbow without breaking the kiss, leaving his other hand on Remus’ chest. He can feel the way Remus’ heart is racing beneath his palm, can feel the hesitant way Remus’ lips are moving against his. He’s nervous, James realizes. It occurs to him, then, that Remus won’t be the one to deepen the kiss. He’s waiting for James to take the lead. And James is more than happy to do so.

Slowly, carefully, as if not to startle him, James parts his lips, lets his tongue dart across Remus’ and when Remus parts his lips, when his tongue meets James’, a fire ignites in his stomach, sends tingles across his skin, it’s consuming and burning and freeing all at once. James isn’t sure how he’s survived so much of his life without kissing Remus.

Remus smiles beneath his lips, and then James is smiling too, and kissing is much more difficult when they’re both grinning like idiots, so James pulls back, just an inch, just enough to look Remus in the eyes. His eyes light up when he smiles, his cheeks squish up all adorably and his nose—how has James never noticed before? His nose scrunches. Enamored, James brings his hand up to the bridge of his nose and traces down the hook of it to the end. Remus’ smile softens, and the scrunch disappears, much to James’ disappointment.

But that’s fine because there’s far more about his face to appreciate. James runs his finger back up to the hook in Remus’ nose, where a scar runs over it, and traces the scar down to his cheek, across the bone to the tip of it, just at the edge of his hairline. Remus’ breath hitches, and James leans down, kissing along the scar. Remus recoils, just slightly, but enough that James notices. He places his hand on his cheek, angles his face back to look at him.

“You’re beautiful,” James insists, and Remus’ whole face turns red, he averts his eyes. James kisses a smaller scar on his jaw, less noticeable. “Perfect. Scars and all.”

“They’re not—” Remus chokes, and James knows what he wants to say. He’s said it all before—they’re hideous, disgusting, just a reminder of the monster inside him. All a load of shit, in James’ opinion, but it’s what Remus thinks. It’s what he thinks of himself. It’s why he doesn’t think it’s possible for someone to love him. It breaks James’ heart.

“Moony,” James interrupts, and Remus falls silent. James presses a kiss to his lips, like a reminder of how he feels. “Don’t even think about insulting yourself. Just listen to me when I say you’re beautiful. Maybe one day you’ll even believe me.” Remus opens his mouth—to object, James is sure—but James interrupts him with another kiss, longer this time, and Remus just melts into it, melts into him.

“So, this is what I signed up for is it?” Remus teases when James pulls back. “I say something you don’t like, and you kiss me to shut me up?”

“Are you complaining?” James asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely not,” Remus breathes.

“Thought not,” James answers, a cocky grin on his face that makes Remus roll his eyes before he leans down again and kisses him gently, his hand still cupping his cheek. This time, Remus is the one to deepen it, licking into James’ mouth with the confidence of a man who has not just had his, presumably, first real snog a few minutes prior. It makes James gasp, makes him go light-headed.

And when he thinks he’s finally recovered from the heady rush that comes with Remus taking the lead—something he rarely experiences with Sirius—the other boy sucks James’ bottom lip between his teeth and nibbles just hard enough to send waves of pleasure down James’ spine before soothing over the bitten area with his tongue. There’s a whimper then, a pathetic sound, and it isn’t until Remus disconnects their lips that James realizes the sound came from him. He’s not sure he’s ever made a sound like that. He can feel his cheeks warming.

“Sorry, I—are you okay?” Remus asks, and it’s then that James notices the worried way his brows are stitched together. He feels a soft fondness fall over him and, with a small smile, he reaches up to soothe the worry out of his brow with his thumb, lets his fingers trace down his face until he’s cradling his cheek.

“I’m good, Moony,” James assures him. He leans down to kiss the cheek that’s not being covered by his hand. “That was…bloody brilliant, actually.”

A blush rises up Remus’ neck, reddening his face up to the tips of his ears. It’s quite endearing, and James finds himself fighting the urge to lean back down and snog the daylight out of him. “Oh,” Remus breathes. “I thought maybe I’d hurt you.”

“Merlin, no,” James says softly, as softly as he can muster. The corners of Remus’ lips quirk up, but James sees right past it to the nervous, overthinking look he’s seen on his face a million times. “Have you…have you ever kissed anyone before?”

The dusting of pink across his cheeks and the way he averts his gaze is answer enough for James, but before he could say anything else, Remus answered him. “No. Not before last night. Not before you.”

The admission feels intimate, and James can’t help but press a chaste kiss to his lips. When he pulls away, Remus’ green eyes are staring right into James’. “I’m honored to be your first, my Moony.”

Finally, Remus smiles, he beams. It’s everything that he is—glowing, radiant, beautiful. James drags his fingers from his cheeks to his lips, traces the shape of them, the curve of them, etches that gorgeous smile into his memory. “Your Moony?” he asks, taking James’ hand in one of his own, bringing his fingertips to his lips one at a time, pressing kisses to each of them. James’ heart melts at the gentleness of it.

“Well,” James smiles teasingly. He kisses Remus on the jaw. “We’ve confessed our love to one another, but we haven’t exactly defined…this. What else should I call you?”

“Your boyfriend, preferably,” Remus answers cheekily.

James laughs gleefully. “Alright, then. My boyfriend. I like the sound of that.” And then he kisses Remus, because he’s his boyfriend, and he wants to, and he can.

“”

Now that James and Remus are an official couple, they’re attached by the hip. Their friends at Hogwarts quickly learn that where one goes, the other follows. And though Remus isn’t keen on public displays of affection, making it unusual to find the boys doing anything other than holding hands where anyone could see them, the adoration in their eyes when they look at each other is clear as day.

Behind the closed door of the dorm, things aren’t very different. When Sirius and Peter are around, James and Remus might lean against each other in a way they don’t in the Common Room, maybe even share a kiss on the cheek, the side of the head, the knuckles, but they don’t cuddle, and they don’t kiss on the lips.

People think it’s odd, at first. James Potter claims to be dating Remus Lupin but is more likely to be caught snogging Sirius Black in a broom cupboard than his boyfriend—more likely to be seen cuddling with Sirius, or holding his hand, or trading lingering touches.

But like with James and Sirius’ odd friendship, the people adjust. That’s just the way it is. James is overly affectionate with his best friend, and not very affectionate at all with his boyfriend. Sure. Why not?

What the people don’t see, though, is how they are in the privacy of Remus’ closed bed curtains at night. They don’t see the way the two boys hold each other, caress each other, the way James kisses Remus like he’s his end and his beginning, his light and his dark, his day and his night. They don’t see the way they whisper to each other until the early hours of the morning, giggling at the stupidest jokes and sharing their darkest secrets.

It’s this secret intimacy that makes them both realize what they’ve been missing with Sirius. The realization is especially hard for James, who had, until recently, thought that he had so much of Sirius, only to find that what he craves and what he and Sirius share are two very different things.

They talk about Sirius often, James and Remus. At first, it feels wrong. Surely one shouldn’t be talking to their boyfriend about the other person they’re in love with, right? But it’s not long before it starts to feel right, to feel cathartic. They talk about what they love about him, and how they crave him. Even though they know it would never happen, they talk about what they would do if they ever found out Sirius returned their feelings—to one or both of them. James says it’s important to know what they want, just in case it ever was to happen. It hurts both of them, but they discuss it anyway.

“What’s it like to kiss him?” Remus asks one night. They’re in Remus’ bed, lying on their sides, the taller boy curled around James’ back, holding him close with an arm around his torso. His voice is low and thick in James’ ear, and that, combined with the thought of kissing Sirius, sends his mind reeling.

“Kissing Sirius is like…it’s like the first moment of dawn,” James says thoughtfully. “You know that feeling when everything is dark, and the stars and moon are so beautiful they just pull you in, captivate you? But then the sun starts to rise, and you get to bask in its warm glow, and…you realize how cold the night was, how dark and unyielding. The sun rises and you get a fresh start, a brand-new day to do whatever you want.”

Remus hums, and even without seeing him, James knows his eyes are closed, that he’s imagining the feeling of the sun shining on him over the horizon. James closes his own eyes, lets himself imagine the two people he loves cherishing each other, and that image comes with its own warmth. He knows he should put it in his box, the still unopened box labeled Remus and Sirius, but he can’t quite bring himself to do it.

“What’s it like kissing me, then?” Remus asks, a bit of a teasing lilt in his tone.

James turns around in his arms and presses one kiss on his neck, another on his jaw, another behind his ear. “Kissing you is like a stream running through a forest. Ever moving, ever-changing, but steady. Changing the shape of the environment around you but remaining strong. An epicenter for life, for fulfillment. Calm and tranquil at times, wild and carefree at others. Kissing you makes me feel everything in the world, but like nothing else in the world matters.”

Remus' breath catches, and then he kisses James, and James feels everything in the world, but like nothing else in the world matters.

Chapter Text

“I feel like we never do this anymore since you and Moony started going out,” Sirius groans as he rolls off of a naked and spent James one Wednesday afternoon a few weeks into the new term.

James scoffs, using his wand to cast a cleaning charm over them. “We had sex two days ago. You slept in my bed last night. You kissed me goodbye on your way to class this morning. What do you mean we never do this anymore?”

He turns his head to find Sirius pouting dramatically at him, and he rolls his eyes. “We only have sex when Moony has a class without us, and you spend most nights in his bed now. Who am  I supposed to sleep with, Prongsie?”

“Sleep with Wormtail,” James jokes, knowing full well that Peter would never put up with Sirius climbing into his bed.

“I should just transform into Padfoot and sleep at the foot of Remus’ bed with you two,” Sirius sighs. James swallows thickly. That, he wants to tell Sirius, is probably, very much, not a good idea. His friend senses a shift in James’ demeanor. “I’m only joking, James, jeez. Trust me, I’m not keen to be a witness to whatever you two get up to behind closed curtains.”

James blushes but plays along. “Oh, don’t lie, you’d love it, you big perv.”

Sirius barks out a laugh. “Yeah, alright, you got me. I bet you two are so hot together, Merlin. Speaking of which,” he props up on his elbow to stare down at James. “How is the sex?”

“Oh, erm—well—” James starts, and Sirius rolls his eyes at him.

“Oh please, I just had your cock up my arse, let’s not play bashful now,” he says. “Besides, I tell you everything about mine and Gid’s sex life. Only seems fair that you return the favor. Now come on, how hot is it? And don’t think about lying to me, I’ve seen that man’s prick when he’s changing, and if he’s that big flaccid, I can’t even imagine—”

“Oh my—Sirius!” James shouts. He can feel the warmth of his cheeks and covers his face with his hands to hide his blush.

“Oh, don’t tell me you top him, too?” Sirius continues, and James groans. “You poor thing, liking it both ways and both of the people you fuck are bottoms. And what a waste of cock, too, I mean he really is—”

“Sirius!” James yells and shoves him hard enough to nearly push him off the bed. His face burns now, and he knows that his dark skin which usually protects him from his blush is doing nothing in this moment to hide that he looks like a tomato. Sirius stares at him, cocks his head to the side, studying him as if trying to solve a puzzle. James sighs and stares up at the canopy above him. “If you truly must know…we haven’t had sex yet.”

“You haven’t—it’s been like, a month,” Sirius says incredulously. “What do you—I mean, you’ve at least, like, sucked him off, right?”

James breathes shakily, refusing to make eye contact with his friend who’s staring at him so intently. “It’s been like, three weeks, you prat. We haven’t done anything. I mean, we, like—grinded on each other, once. But he’s—well, he wants to go slow.”

“You, James Potter, are such a gentleman,” Sirius laughs. “I don’t know how you manage to keep it in your pants with such a fine specimen, but kudos to you—”

And James doesn’t really know what sets him off. Maybe it’s that he knows how Remus feels about Sirius, and if he heard him talking like this it would get his hopes up and then break his heart. Maybe it’s the word Sirius uses—specimen—that feels a little bit too close to ‘creature’ for James’ taste. Or maybe it’s the implication that James can’t control himself, that Remus is some sort of prize for him, some game to have won. Maybe it’s something else, even, or a combination of all three, but suddenly, James is seeing red.

“Don’t fucking talk about him like that,” James snaps, pushing himself up to his knees from where he lays on the mattress. “He isn’t just some random guy, Sirius, and everything isn’t just about sex all the time. I love him. Don’t you get that? I’m in love with him. And besides that, he’s one of your best friends. How the fuck would you feel if he talked to Gideon about you like you were just some piece of arse?”

Sirius stares at him with wide eyes, opens his mouth to—defend himself? Apologize? James never finds out, because he pulls on his discarded boxers, throws open his bed curtains, and storms off to their bathroom, leaving Sirius, naked and alone, in his bed.

“”

James and Sirius’ argument only lasts for a few days, which is good, because their friends were starting to ask questions, and both of them refused to tell anyone what they were arguing about. In the end, Sirius apologizes and insists that James doesn’t owe him any sort of explanation about his sex life and that he’ll keep his nose out of it from now on.

“You’re an idiot,” James tells him affectionately, pulling the other boy onto the bed with him to straddle his lap. “Believe me, Pads, as soon as we’re having sex, you’ll know all about it. I got mad because you were being an objectifying arse, not because you wanted to know about my sex life.”

“Oh,” Sirius says. “Right. I promise I’m done being an objectifying arse, then.” He rests his hands carefully on James’ chest and bends down to kiss him in apology.

“You damn well better be, because I have things to tell you,” James smirks, trying to ignore the way his heart is pounding at the kiss, at the way their hips press together at this angle as if James wasn’t the one to get them there in the first place.

“What kinds of things?” Sirius gasps, then grins. “Sexy things?”

“Let’s just say, Remus Lupin has the mouth of a god,” James practically swoons. “You’d better watch out; you have some competition for best blowjob.”

“Absolutely not,” Sirius shakes his head as if the idea is completely inconceivable. “Did you suck him off, too?”

“Of course I did, I’m not a monster,” James laughs. Sirius, of course, should know the answer to this question before he even asks it. He of all people knows that James never leaves his partner unsatisfied.

“And?”

“And,” James rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide the smile that’s growing on his face. “Yes, Padfoot, you were right. He’s…very well endowed.” Between the sensation of Sirius in his lap and the memory of Remus in his mouth, he starts to grow hard. Sirius must notice as well, because he smirks at James and scoots down his lap, unbuttoning his trousers on his way. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like?” he teases. “Solidifying my title as best cocksucker, obviously.”

“”

There are, James finds out, some things that come with being a werewolf’s boyfriend, rather than just his friend, especially in the days leading up to the full moon. In the week before February’s full, James and Remus spend much of their time cuddling (Remus gets clingy, bordering on mildly possessive, though whenever he’s wrapped around James, he’ll tell him he’s just cold), kissing (again, the clingy thing), and getting each other off (admittedly, it’s mostly James getting Remus off—apparently he gets quite…frustrated this time of the month, not that James is complaining).

Naturally, James loves every moment of it, loves every moment that Remus’ desire for touch outweighs his distaste for PDA. He spends the whole week with Remus’ head on his shoulder or his lap while they hang out with their friends in the Common Room, or with the other boy’s legs draped over his own as they study in the library or being pulled into broom cupboards between classes to be snogged senseless.

“What did you even do before we started dating?” James asks the night before the full. They’re laying nude in Remus’ bed—James had, in fact, attempted to put his pants back on after exchanging blowjobs, to which Remus responded by snatching the pants out of his hand, opening the bedcurtains, and throwing them as hard as he could across the room. James took that to mean his boyfriend needed some naked cuddles.

“What do you mean?” Remus mumbles. He’s nuzzling his nose affectionately against James’ neck, and it tickles a little bit, but James ignores it because Remus is being so damn cute.

“What did you do about the clinginess?” James clarifies. “Unless you were secretly cuddling with someone that I don’t know about.”

Remus pulls his face out of James’ neck just far enough that the pout on his face is visible. “I’m not being clingy.”

“First of all, that is a pout that could rival Sirius’,” James laughs and leans in to kiss his protruding bottom lip, which just leads the other boy to pout further. “But don’t ever stop because it’s insanely adorable.” Remus blushes and hides his now smiling face back in James’ neck. “Second of all, you definitely are being clingy. Which is fine. More than fine, actually. I’m quite enjoying it.”

“I bet you are,” he grunts, trying his best to sound grumpy. He can't fool James, though. James can still feel his smile against his skin. For a moment he just stays there, face buried in James’ neck. James doesn’t say anything, doesn’t push, just presses his nose into Remus’ hair and breaths in the smell of him—the spicy, sweet, earthy, Remus smell that sends butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Finally, Remus sighs and untangles himself from James, moving instead to sit up against the headboard. He spreads his legs slightly and pats the bed between them. James smiles and moves to settle down where he’s been summoned, his back pressed against Remus’ chest as strong, scarred arms wrapped around his torso.

“Honestly,” Remus starts tentatively. His arms wrap a bit tighter around the boy in his arms, and James melts into his embrace. “Honestly, it’s never been like this before. I’ve never felt…there’s this need to have you. Like I might stop existing if I stop touching you. Like you won’t be mine anymore. And I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

James hums and closes his eyes to process Remus’ words. And then he smiles. “Moony’s decided that I’m your mate,” he says softly.

“It does seem that way,” Remus agrees, pressing a kiss to James’ temple. “For once it seems Moony has good judgment.” James lets out a laugh that quickly dissolves into giggles as Remus noses at his neck, pressing featherlight kisses to his skin. “I think I could listen to you laugh forever.”

“You’re a sap,” James responds, but he and Remus both know he’s deflecting to divert the attention away from his pink cheeks. “What about the sexual frustration? How did you handle being the horniest man alive for a week every month before I was here to suck you off twice a day?”

James can’t see Remus’ face, but he knows his boyfriend well enough to know that he’s rolling his eyes at him. “It wasn’t really a problem until about third year,” he answers. “And then I just wanked a lot. Like, a lot. Although I think I’ve been hornier this month than I’ve ever been, and I blame it entirely on you.”

“That’s what you get when your boyfriend is this sexy,” James teases, rubbing his hands up and down his body as sensually as he can manage with the way he’s lying.

Remus rolls his eyes again. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me anyway.”

“Without a doubt.”

“”

The full moon the following day is one of the most fun moons James has ever had. It’s obvious that Moony has indeed recognized Prongs as his mate, and the two spend most of the night, for lack of a better word, flirting.

Moony almost completely ignores Padfoot and Wormtail, opting instead to lick and sniff and roll around with Prongs, following him through the woods or tempting Prongs to follow him. They run and jump and play and when the other boys get too close to Prongs, Moony puts himself between them and growls, low and threatening.

And then when Moony transforms back into Remus in the Shrieking Shack, it’s James who assumes the role of caregiver, not giving Sirius or Peter the chance to even volunteer. It’s James who covers him in his comfiest clothes, James who tucks him tightly into bed, James’ who holds him, whose body heat Remus uses to keep the chill from settling in his bones. And when James looks down at him, tired and worn down and aching and, most importantly, in his arms, it’s James who falls just a little bit more in love with him than he already was.

Really, James should’ve expected the strop Sirius is in the next day. Because if there’s one thing he knows about his best friend, it’s that he has abandonment issues and has been starved of attention since the day he was born. But really, with the amount of attention he’s gotten from the Marauders, and especially from James, over the last five and a half years, James can’t help but think Sirius is being a bit ridiculous.

“Well, I’m glad you and Remus had such a nice full moon while Pete and I were stuck on the sidelines,” Sirius yells when James tries to tell him how nice it had been to run with his boyfriend. “You know, we’re all supposed to be his pack, James, not just you.”

“I’m sorry you felt left out,” James says because he’s nothing if not a people pleaser, especially when it comes to Sirius. He grabs ahold of the voice in the back of his head telling him to shout and rage to Sirius that last night wasn’t about him and shoves it in a box somewhere in his brain. “We didn’t mean for it to be like that, it’s just, you know, Moony recognized Prongs as his mate, and—”

“What, so Peter and I are supposed to sit out the full moon, supposed to not help our friend?” Sirius spits back. It takes James aback, but not nearly as much as what he says next. “Just because you two are shagging now?”

James’ breath catches in his throat. And then the voice he just tucked away breaks free from its restraints and James is doing something he rarely does—he yells at his best friend. “What the fuck is your problem, Sirius?” He shouts, and Sirius recoils, but it’s too late, now James is shouting, and he has no idea how to make it stop. “You know just as well as I do that this. Won’t. Last. He’ll spend a few moons being possessive, and then it’ll go right back to pack, the same as it was before. You know this about werewolves, so stop being a dramatic prat just because you’re not the center of attention!”

Sirius scoffs. “You have some nerve, James Potter, accusing me of wanting to be the ‘center of attention.’ You won’t let anyone else have Remus since you’ve started shag—”

“If you say shagging one more damn time, Sirius,” James threatens. It comes out quiet, dangerous, and Sirius falters. “What the fuck is your issue with Remus and me? You keep saying you’re happy for us, but then you reduce our relationship down to sex, act like you don’t know anything about werewolves and their mates. You act like I’m doing something wrong when all I’m doing is helping my boyfriend. Not just the bloody guy I’m shagging, Sirius. My boyfriend. In case it’s escaped your notice, we’re in love.”

Something that he’s said makes Sirius look like he’s been slapped across the face. He mutters something incoherently, too quiet for James to even attempt to decode, refusing to make eye contact. And then he whispers, “I’m sorry,” and scurries out of the dorm before James has a chance to say anything else.

“”

Following this argument, James doesn’t speak to Sirius for a week. And when he finally does talk to him again, it’s in short, clipped sentences, and he refuses to talk about his relationship, and he barely looks at him, much less kisses him or has sex with him. For nearly a month, their relationship becomes stilted and awkward, more reminiscent of acquaintances than best friends.

It takes nearly three weeks of that month for Remus to convince James to tell him what they argued about, and as soon as he does, James wishes he could take it back.

“I don’t want you to argue with Sirius because of me,” Remus insists.

“I’m not,” James replies, not looking up from his Transfiguration essay.

“Aren’t you?” Remus asks softly.

“No,” James says in a clipped voice. He feels Remus tense beside him, and he sighs, looking up to meet his eyes. “I’m arguing with Sirius because he doesn’t respect my relationship—our relationship. He’s supposed to be our best friend, but he’s not acting like a best friend.”

Remus sighs, clearly stressed out about the situation. James smiles softly at him and reaches his hand to the nape of his neck, scratching in the way he knows soothes his anxious boyfriend. It works. Remus practically melts, leans his head into James' hand, and slumps his shoulders forward, his eyes fluttering closed.

“We’ll get past it,” James promises. “We always do.”

“I know,” Remus smiles softly. He turns his head toward James and opens his beautiful green eyes and James’ heart thumps in his chest. “Kiss me.”

“In the middle of the Common Room?” James teases with a smile. Remus just rolls his eyes, grabs him by the front of the school robes, and pulls him forward, kissing him gently. James continues the way he was scratching Remus’ neck, raising his other hand to cradle his cheek. Remus lets out a breathy moan, and James smiles against his lips. “Let’s go upstairs, love.”

“Okay,” he agrees, and then they’re packing their school work into their bags, grinning excitedly at one another, and James grabs Remus’ hand, dragging him up the stairs to their, blessedly empty, dormitory.

As soon as the door is closed, Remus’ bag hits the floor and he grabs James by the tie, pulling him in for a kiss. His free hand immediately goes to the shorter boy’s waist and James has just enough sense left to drop his bag before he wraps his arms around Remus’ neck to pull him in closer.

Before long, James is pulled tight against Remus’ chest, moaning softly at the feeling of his boyfriend’s tongue exploring his mouth, his soft hair beneath his fingers, his hands grabbing him tightly. It’s all just a little bit too much but not enough, and James is lightheaded, lost in the way his body fits into Remus’.

When Remus pulls away to catch his breath, James peppers kisses across his jaw and down his neck, stopping to nip at the sensitive skin, to suck marks dark enough to stain his throat for days. His moans send a shiver down James’ spine and then there’s a hand in his hair, grabbing, angling his head back up so Remus can capture his lips again.

James is pretty sure he’s making noises akin to whining but he can’t bring himself to care, not when one of Remus’ hands is in his hair and the other is pushing off his robe, loosening his tie, untucking his shirt from his trousers. Then both of his hands are unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it to the floor, pulling his tie over his head, running his hands up and down the planes of his chest and stomach and back.

Every touch sets James’ skin ablaze, sends shocks through his body. Remus’ lips against his jaw, the shell of his ear, his teeth grazing against his pulse point, his Adam’s apple, his tongue licking at his collar bones and the dip of his throat—it all goes to his cock, trapped in his frustratingly tight trousers.

He knows his neck will be a disaster of purple and red tomorrow and no glamour that he can do will cover them up, but he wouldn’t want to even if he could. No, James wants to wear them like a badge of honor—like an announcement to the world; ‘I belong to Remus Lupin’ his marks say. ‘I am his.’

The thought sends a wave of lust through him and then he’s undressing Remus with the same desperation that he had undressed James—his robes, his tie, his shirt. He runs his hands down his chest and stomach, over the warm skin, fingers leading down the paths made by raised scars. He pauses to run his fingers through the soft patch of brown hair below his belly button before drifting idly down to Remus’ belt buckle.

“Wait,” Remus breathes, eyes clenched shut, grabbing James’ hands to stop his movement. James moves a hand to rest on his cheek, eyes scanning his face in an attempt to discern what’s going on in his boyfriend’s mind. He finally opens his eyes, green meeting hazel and James nearly gasps at the intensity of desire he sees reflected in them. “I want you, James.”

Remus nuzzles against his cheek and breathes in deeply through his nose. James has noticed he tends to do this when he’s aroused, and there’s something almost animalistic about it that makes him drown even deeper in that pool of want.

And then there are those words—I want you—that send a shiver through James’ body, that make his heart thump in anticipation because Remus has never said that. No, Remus is always quite specific—I want you to suck me off, or I want to touch your cock. Never this, never vague statements, never just says I want you.

And James is sure he knows what that means, he’s sure he knows what Remus wants but he has to check, he has to ask, “Want me how?”

Remus moves his face into James’ neck and inhales again. James bites his lip to hold back a moan, his fingers moving into his soft waves of their own accord. And then Remus’ arms are roped around his waist and his lips are brushing his ear as he whispers, “I want to have sex with you.”

James tries his best not to grin like a maniac, he really does. But when Remus pulls back to look at him, he knows he’s failed, because Remus smiles back at him.

“Really?” James asks, and Remus’ smile grows. “I—let me—hold on.” James pulls away from Remus and reaches for his wand, casting a locking charm on the door handle to the dorm and a silencing spell on the room. It’s fortunately early enough in the night that Peter and Sirius won’t be misplaced if they can’t get into the dorm, and James is prepared to take advantage of the privacy. There’s no point containing themselves to the closed bed curtains if they don’t need to.

When he turns back to Remus, the other boy is blushing. James smiles and steps up to him, resting his hands on his biceps. Remus’ hands instinctively go to James’ waist. James stretches up on his tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “How do you want to do it?” he asks, even though he thinks he knows.

“Oh, I—how do you want to do it?” Remus stutters.

“Honestly, love, I’m happy either way,” James smiles softly, running his fingers through Remus’ hair. “I like it both ways. And…you don’t need to be nervous. We can go slow.”

“Yeah, alright,” the werewolf sighs with a small smile, leaning into James’ touch.

A silent moment passes, and James pulls Remus down for another gentle kiss. “You want to top?” he asks, and Remus lets out a sigh of relief.

“Yes, yeah,” he smiles, pressing his forehead against James’. “Thank you. For—well—I mean—”

“Hey,” James whispers. “Are you sure you want to do this, because if you’re not ready, it’s fine, love—”

“No, Merlin, I—” Remus takes a deep breath. “I’m ready. I’m just…nervous. Because you’ve done this before, and it—well what if I’m not any good? I just want it to be good for you.”

“My love, it will be brilliant,” James says confidently. He moves his hands to cradle Remus’ cheeks between them. “It might not be perfect, but it will be good. Because it’s us, and because we’re in love. So, it will be special, and wonderful, and good. I promise. I promise.”

“I love you,” Remus whispers.

“I love you, too,” James echoes, then smirks. “Now, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to go back to taking your trousers off.”

Remus laughs, and it’s the most wonderful sound James has ever heard. “Yes, alright then,” he says, and then he’s leaning down, kissing James languidly. James parts his lips, lets Remus in, moans breathlessly at the feeling of his tongue against his own.

And then his hands drift down his lean torso, pausing to pinch his nipples, to trace his scars, to feel the flex of his muscles before his fingers deftly unbuckle his belt and unbutton and unzip his trousers. Remus steps back just long enough to pull off his shoes, socks, and trousers before his lips are on James’ again.

James kicks off his own shoes as Remus makes quick work of his trousers, and then the two are stumbling towards Remus’ bed in their pants, refusing to break their kiss, hands roaming across the skin of each other’s bodies.

It’s Remus whose knees hit the bed, who falls backwards onto the mattress. James stops just long enough to take off his glasses and set them on the bedside table before he clambers onto the mattress, onto Remus, straddling him. He grinds down and moans at the friction of Remus’ half-hard cock against his own, and even through the layers of their underwear, the pressure is complete bliss.

“Kiss me,” Remus says, and James complies, leaning down for a kiss that’s more tongue than lips. He quickly diverts his attention to Remus’ neck, his throat, his collarbones—licking and biting and sucking, lost in the sounds of breathless moans and gasps escaping the other boy’s lips.

He presses kisses down the expanse of his chest, stopping to lick and nibble his nipples in a way that makes his back arch, and then he moves down again, worshiping his scars as he moves down Remus’ body until he’s off the edge of the bed, kissing along the waistband of his pants.

A moment later James is stripping them both of their pants and he’s climbing over Remus to collapse in the center of the bed. He spreads his legs and makes a ‘come hither’ motion with his finger, wiggling his eyebrows with a playful suggestiveness that makes the other boy laugh. He complies quickly, turning over onto his hands and knees and crawling over to James, laying gently between his open legs.

“You’re so beautiful,” Remus whispers, tracing his fingertips across James’ cheekbone. A smile spreads across his face, and he laces his fingers through the tawny hair of the boy above him.

You’re one to talk, James wants to say, but the words get stuck in his throat, and the reverent look in the green eyes of the boy above him makes his heart expand until he’s sure it won’t fit in his chest anymore. So instead, he pulls Remus down by the hair and kisses him deeply, pours all his love into Remus through his lips and tongue and teeth, through the tips of his fingers as they dance across his scalp, through his torso as he arches his back until his chest is pressed against his lover’s.

When Remus breaks the kiss, his cheeks are red. “I, er…I don’t really know what I’m doing. Or, well—I do, but only vaguely—”

“That’s okay,” James smiles gently. He thinks his heart must be melting now, softened by the timid look on Remus’ face and the light, hesitant way Remus touches him. One of his hands is loosely gripping his hip, his thumb rubbing circles into the sensitive skin there. “I’ll walk you through it. And we’ll go nice and slow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Remus agrees. He leans down to kiss James again, this time gently, simply, slowly. Just the brush of lips. The hand that had been lying on James’ hip wanders down to his leg, the inside of his thigh. He caresses the delicate skin there, places just enough pressure until James gets the hint, and spreads his legs a bit further.

There’s a look on the werewolf’s face somewhere between nervous and excited and lustful. Anticipation. James should know—he feels it, too.

Still, he has to ask Remus one more time before they begin, “You’re sure you’re ready?” Because the last thing he wants is for the other boy to feel pressured, or to regret it.

He doesn’t realize he’s holding in a breath until Remus replies, “Completely,” and he exhales, feeling the tension evaporate from his body.

“Good,” he smiles brightly, unable to contain his joy. Remus smiles back at him before he blushes and hides his face in James’ neck. He breathes in deeply, inhaling his scent, and then he bites gently, teasingly, over a mark he had left earlier in the evening, drawing a breathless moan from James.

Remus grinds his hips involuntarily with a whisper of “Fuck, Jamie.” He draws his face out from James’ neck and looks him in the eyes. “I—I want you so bad, Jamie. Tell me what to do.”

James moans at the nickname. The only time anyone calls him Jamie is Sirius when they’re having sex. He finds that he enjoys it just as much coming out of Remus’ mouth—maybe even more.

His eyes flutter closed. He forces himself to put the brief thought of Sirius in a box. This isn’t about him; he tells himself. This is about James and Remus and their love. Their love. Their first time. And although they both love him, Sirius has no business here, in Remus’ bed as he and James are about to have sex for the very first time.

He opens his eyes to find Remus’, the green barely visible past the darkened look of desire and love. And looking at the boy above him, the only thing he can think about is the love he has for him, and how desperately he wants him.

“You’ll want to cast a cleaning charm first,” James whispers. “And then…you’ll need lube for your fingers. You can use the charm, but I have a vial, too, if you’d prefer that.”

“The charm is fine,” Remus replies, just as softly. He presses a chaste kiss to James’ lips and clambers out of bed to fetch his wand. When he returns, sitting on his knees between James’ legs, his shoulders are tight. All it takes is a smile from James, though, and his nervous tension melts away.

He waves his wand with a whispered spell, and James feels the familiar tingling sensation up his channel that makes him shudder no matter how many times he’s experienced it.

“Are you okay?” Remus asks, his brow furrowed.

James reaches up to smooth out the worry lines. “Cleaning charm just feels a bit funny. I’m okay. You can keep going.”

“Okay,” Remus replies. He pulls his lip between his teeth, and James can tell something else is bothering him, but before he can question it, Remus adds, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” James reassures him. He sits up and runs his hand comfortingly up and down Remus’ thigh. “I’ve done this before, and I know what I like, and I’ll tell you what feels good and what doesn’t. Just like I did the first time you gave me a handjob and a blowjob. Remember that?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he replies. He blushes, but James’ words must’ve helped because he’s smiling, too. He takes a deep breath and pushes the shorter boy back onto the mattress playfully, making him laugh.

James watches fondly as Remus casts a lubrication charm on his fingers, finally looking completely at ease. And then the other boy is leaning over him, his weight resting on one elbow, his other hand drifting lower and lower and…

The first brush of Remus’ slick finger against his hole reminds James just how aroused he is. His cock is achingly hard against his hip, leaking precum, and James—moaning wantonly at that barest touch—wonders how he’s been able to ignore it for so long.

“Are you ready?” Remus asks, and James thinks he must just be toying with him at this point. His suspicions are as good as confirmed when he opens his eyes and sees the glint of mischief on Remus’ face that James has known for nearly six years and has loved for almost as long.

“Fuck, yes,” he cries, fingernails digging into Remus’ shoulders.

Remus presses an apologetic peck to his lips, and the other boy brushes his fingertip around his rim one more time before he feels a bit of pressure, the smallest stretch.

It’s a single knuckle, but Remus’ eyes widen, and James nearly chuckles at the look of amazement on his face. “If you think that feels good, just wait until it’s your cock inside me,” he teases breathlessly.

Remus’ eyes roll back, and he groans, pressing his forehead against James’ shoulder. “Fuck, Jamie,” he breathes. He presses a line of kisses from the spot behind James’ ear to his collarbone and finally continues, pressing his finger the rest of the way into James.

The logical part of James’ brain—or what little of it is still functioning—reminds him to be patient. He’s the one, after all, the one who told Remus they could take it slow. In an attempt to stop himself from rushing his boyfriend, he grabs a handful of his hair, angling his face back up to his own so he can claim his mouth in a passionate kiss.

And finally, finally, Remus moves his hand, begins thrusting his finger slowly and James moans loudly into Remus’ mouth, his grip on his hair tightening ever so slightly.

“Remus, more, another, fuck,” James groans, his hips moving in time with Remus’ thrusts. Remus searches his eyes for confirmation and, when he only finds pleasure on James’ face, adds a second finger.

“Merlin, fuck, Jamie,” Remus almost growls, and it makes James whine with arousal. “How does that feel, love?”

“Feels good,” James sighs, eyes fluttering closed as he grinds down onto the fingers inside him. “Try—fuck—curl your fingers, like—yes, fuck, Remus!” His eyes snap open as Remus brushes his prostate, and he pulls him down into another fiery kiss.

He’s vaguely aware that there’s a nonstop stream of moans and whimpers escaping his lips, but Merlin, who could blame him? What Remus lacks in experience, he makes up for with long, thick fingers and a precise steadiness that allows him to stroke James’ prostate perfectly with every other thrust. It’s just enough stimulation to leave James feeling incredible, but not so much that he’ll come before Remus is even inside of him.

“You make the prettiest noises, Jamie,” Remus mumbles against his lips. “So lovely, so perfect, my Jamie.”

“Fuck, Remus, more please, more,” James cries, and Remus, feeling emboldened by his boyfriend’s reactions, complies, adding a third finger, and is immediately rewarded with a low, stretched-out moan that goes straight to his cock.

James has been fingered many times before, by both himself and Sirius, but he’s sure that it’s never felt like this. Remus’ fingers are thick and dexterous. The way they stretch him is just on the right side of too much, and he finds James’ prostate with far more ease than he would’ve expected. He’s slow and focused, deliberate with each movement.

And then there’s the way he looks at James. The unbridled love painted across his features, the way he desires him, not just for sexual pleasure, but for the emotional connection they’ve created. James had never considered that he could feel loved during sex, but now it seems so obvious. 

“Fuck—” Remus gasps, his fingers freezing inside James. “Did I—are you okay? Does it hurt?” He shifts his weight to his knees so he can bring his hand up to James’ cheek, and James realizes he has started to cry.

He smiles wetly. “No, it’s—fuck, it feels so good Remus, I’m—I’m not hurt,” he tries to explain between the disorienting combination of his own free-flowing tears and the overwhelming pleasure of the fingers still inside him. He feels himself contract around them, watches as Remus stifles a moan, clearly still concerned about James’ wellbeing. “I just love you so much.”

Remus’ face softens and he returns to his prior position, leaning over James with his weight on his elbow. He presses his lips to James’ cheek, kissing away his tears, and at the same time, restarts the movement of his fingers. “I love you so much, too.”

“Remus,” James whimpers. He laces his fingers into his soft waves, draws him into a kiss. “Want you—please. I’m ready.”

As if to emphasize his point, James grinds his hips down and lets out a desperate moan. And, really, who is Remus to argue with that?

He pulls his fingers out carefully and James whimpers at the sudden empty feeling before Remus grabs his wand and casts another lubrication charm. A moment later, he’s hovering over James, kissing him gently, and James feels the head of his cock at his rim.

“Okay?” Remus asks.

“Yes,” James breathes.

And then Remus moves forward, pressing into James with a low moan. James throws his head back in pleasure, revealing the column of his throat, and Remus leans down, pressing kisses to the skin there, nipping gently to distract James from the stretch.

Remus pushes in slowly, stopping only when he’s fully seated, his hips flush against James’ arse. “Fuck, Jamie,” he whispers, his eyes pressed tightly closed.

James runs his fingers through his brown hair, bites his own lip, focuses on breathing, on relaxing. Remus is big and the stretch feels incredible, and it doesn’t take long for his body to adjust to the intrusion, for pleasure to shoot through his body. He clenches around Remus, drawing a choked moan from the boy.

“Jamie—fuck—can I—” Remus starts.

“Yes,” James interrupts, his voice strained. He rolls his hips, and they moan in unison. “Move, Remus, please.”

Slowly, Remus pulls nearly all the way out and pushes back in again with a strangled groan. James grips his hair, tugs gently just in the way he knows drives Remus mad and pulls him down for a kiss.

He sets a rhythm, slow and gentle—painstakingly slow. James wraps his legs around Remus’ waist, digs his heels into his back, a silent order—more. He takes the hint, thrusting a little bit faster into James, but not enough and James whines pathetically, cries, “Faster, Moony, please!”

“Fuck,” Remus gasps. He kisses James roughly, all teeth and tongues, before he sits back on his knees, grabbing the backs of James’ thighs and pushing them down against his chest. He pulls out, but this time when he thrusts in it’s harder, faster, and his new position has him thrusting right into James’ prostate. James lets out a loud moan, gripping the sheets at his sides hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

“Just like that, Moony, fuck!” James shouts quickly morph into whines as Remus sets his new pace, fucking into him in a way that has James writhing beneath him, little gasps of pleasure escaping from his lips.

“Feels so good, Jamie,” Remus cries, his grip tightening on James’ thighs. “Won’t last—feels incredible. Fuck—you’re perfect, love.” 

I won’t last either, James wants to say, but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is a strangled cry. His hands snap up, gripping Remus’ forearms.

“Touch yourself, James,” Remus orders, his voice breathy. James’ cock twitches at the demanding tone in his boyfriend’s voice. He moans again, reaches down, and wraps his fingers tightly around his cock, stroking in time with Remus’ thrusts. “Fuck, just like that love. I’m—fuck I’m close. Are you gonna come for me, love?”

“Yes!” James gasps, back arching off the bed. “So close—I’m gonna—”

“That’s it, love,” Remus breathes, speeding up the movement of his hips.

The increase is just what James needs—his body tenses, his channel clenches around Remus, his vision goes white, and then he’s coming with Remus’ name on his lips in spurts across his chest.

Remus’ grip on James’ thighs is bruising, and he only thrusts twice more before he spills into James with a growl, his eyes clenched shut in pleasure.

Slowly, the grip on his thighs softens, and Remus’ eyes flutter open. James smiles, drops his legs, and drags Remus down, letting the taller boy collapse his weight onto him.

For a few moments, they just lay there, holding each other as they come down from their orgasms before Remus pulls out carefully and moves so he’s lying on his back. He opens his arms, and James immediately falls into them, his head on Remus’ chest, his hand resting gently on his stomach, fingers idly tracing a scar there.

“Was that okay?” Remus asks, finally breaking the silence.

James can’t see his face, but he can hear the shakiness of his voice, and he presses a kiss to his chest to soothe him. “It was perfect, Remus,” he reassures him. “Was it okay for you?”

“It was even better than I imagined,” Remus answers, and it makes James’ chest swell with pride. Another moment passes before Remus speaks again. “Let’s go take a shower, yeah?”

“Just cast a cleaning charm,” James grumbles, burrowing his face into Remus’ neck. “Don’t wanna move.”

“I’ll wash your hair for you,” Remus offers, and James groans because of course his boyfriend knows exactly what to offer to get him to agree. Remus laughs. “Come on, then. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“”

James and Sirius don’t truly make up until after March's full moon.

“I’m sorry I was being a jealous prat,” he says to, not only James but Remus as well, even though Remus hadn’t heard their argument, much less participated in it. It makes James’ heart swell with pride. If that isn’t growth on Sirius’ part, he doesn’t know what is. “I really am happy for you two, and you…well you’re really good together. I guess I just—I don’t know, things are a bit different now, aren’t they? And it freaked me out a bit and I said some things I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry.”

Naturally, James and Sirius fall back into old habits after the latter is fully forgiven. They kiss and hold hands and cuddle and, about a week later, finally have sex again.

And the sex is…fine.

Well, no. The sex is mind-blowing. But it does break James’ heart a little bit because just in the past few weeks, he’s grown so used to the way that Remus looks at him while they have sex—the way Remus touches him and holds him. Even as the full moon had grown closer and Remus had grown a bit rougher, there was never a time when James hadn’t felt completely and irrevocably loved.

Sirius doesn’t make him feel loved. Because Sirius doesn’t love James.

But James loves Sirius. Merlin, James loves him. Which is why, after they finally have sex again after their fight, James says the unthinkable.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

“I—what?” Sirius asks, and the way his voice cracks makes James wish he could take it back, but he can’t. And he shouldn’t. As much as he hates it, he knows it’s the right thing to do. “Did I do something wrong? Because whatever it is, I’m sorry, James—”

“No, Pads, Merlin, no,” James interrupts. He sits up with a sigh, running his hand down his face. He feels the mattress shift next to him as Sirius sits up. He refuses to look at his best friend, knowing the look on his face would break his heart.

“Then why—”

“I just—” James starts and then cuts himself off. He’s not entirely sure how to explain without revealing his feelings. Eventually, he settles on a half-truth, finally turning to look Sirius in the eye. “I didn’t realize how…emotional sex could be. And now that I do…it just doesn’t feel right without it. I’m sorry.”

“We said no one would come between us,” Sirius whispers, his eyes glassy.

“Hey, no one will ever come between us,” James tries to reassure him. He stretches his hand out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind Sirius’ ear, letting his fingers linger against the sharp turn of his jaw. “You will always be my best friend, Pads. And I’m not saying no to all intimacy, just sex.”

“We can still snog?” Sirius sniffles.

James snorts. “Yeah, Pads. We can still snog. Sometimes.”

For a moment, Sirius just stares at him—thrilling grey boring into James’ hazel. And then the corners of his lips twitch up into an almost smile. “You’re sure about this?”

“I am,” James confirms, even though everything in his body is protesting, screaming at him to yell Sike! and let Sirius think this was a prank. But that wasn’t the right choice to make, and he knew it. “I’m so sorry, Padfoot. I wish…I wish I had known it about myself sooner, but this could never have worked out long-term. I’m just not the kind of person who can have casual sex when I know how…intimate it can be. It just feels too empty now.”

Sirius’ jaw tightens and he pushes himself off the bed, storming across the room to collect the clothes he had been wearing earlier. “You’re such a git, James, holy shit. Fuck you, honestly.”

“I—what?” James shouts. “I thought we were good—what the hell just happened?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm and anger. “Why don’t you run off and ask your damn boyfriend, since apparently that’s the only kind of intimacy you give a shit about.”

Before James can even process what he’s said, Sirius is out of the dorm, slamming the door behind him.

“”

The Marauders, once again, become a group divided. For weeks, Sirius refuses to speak to either James or Remus and when Peter refuses to take sides, Sirius ignores him as well. Instead, he spends all of his time with Gideon, or with the Gryffindor girls in their year, or even, on a few occasions, Regulus and his friends—although he quickly learns not to hang around Regulus when Barty is around because he does not appreciate hearing sexual jokes about his baby brother.

James, frankly, doesn't see a way out of this mess that didn’t involve confessing his feelings. How else was he supposed to explain that obviously he cared about platonic intimacy, but it was so much more complicated for James than it was for Sirius? How else was he supposed to explain that the sex felt empty not because James doesn’t value the intimacy it had brought them in the past, but because it’s so clear that it means something different for James than it does for Sirius? But confessing is absolutely not an option.

So, instead, James sulks. He absolutely wallows in self-pity. In trying to protect his heart, he had pushed away his best friend. It was a heartbreak worse than what he was protecting himself from in the first place, and not a day goes by that he doesn’t wish he could turn back time.

For the first few weeks, Remus thinks he’s being dramatic. He lets him whine, holds him when he cries, but doesn’t hold back his thoughts—this will pass, he keeps saying. You two can never stay mad at each other. He’ll forgive you eventually.

But then April’s full moon comes, and Padfoot isn’t there. And suddenly Remus isn’t so confident that it’ll all pass.

That’s when Remus and James have their first real argument.

It starts with an offhand comment. A comment that James knows Remus only makes because he’s brokenhearted, but it doesn’t stop it from hurting any less.

“If I lose one of my best friends because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, James, I swear to Merlin—”

“What?” James interrupts, his chin jutting out defensively. As if he needs to be reminded that this was all his fault. As if he wasn’t feeling guilty enough about it all already. “You’ll leave me, too? Is that it?”

Remus scoffs but he doesn’t deny it. He doesn’t deny it. James thinks he can physically feel his heart cracking in his chest. “You weren’t the only one with something to lose here, James!” Remus shouts, and all James wants to do is try to calm him down because the full moon was only the night before and he must be exhausted, but he’s completely frozen in his spot, barely even holding himself together.

“How could I have possibly known that he would take it out on you and Peter?” James yells. He pauses just long enough to swallow thickly, to reign in the urge to cry. “How could I have possibly known he would react like this?”

“You two always swore no one would come between you,” Remus seethes quietly, and it’s almost worse than when he was yelling. “Didn’t you think he’d be pissed—not just at you, but at me, for taking you away from him?”

“So, I should’ve just let my heart break more and more every time I slept with him, is that it?” James demands. “You’re my boyfriend, Remus, you’re not supposed to want me to be heartbroken.”

“I—that’s not what I—”

“And for the record, that’s not even what he’s pissed about,” James continues as if Remus hadn’t said anything. “He was upset, but he understood until I made that stupid damn comment. And you know that. You know that Remus. You’re just pissed that I broke it off with him because you’re jealous that—”

“Of course, I’m bloody jealous!” Remus yells. “And of course, I don’t want you to be heartbroken, James, but Godric, I cannot understand how not being with him is better! You had him—you had him, Prongs, and you just threw it away.”

“You don’t—” James started, his voice cracking. It’s then that he realizes his face is wet with tears. And it’s then that Remus’ tough exterior breaks. He steps closer to James until they’re only a foot apart and reaches a hand up to brush the tears off of his cheeks. “You don’t know what it was like, Remus. I swear, it’s better to want him and not have him than to have him and him not want you.”

“No, I don’t know what it was like,” Remus admits, his thumbs still brushing over James’ now dry cheeks. “And you’re right, I don’t ever want you to be hurt. I’m sorry I made it seem like that’s something I’m okay with because I’m not. And…none of this is your fault, love. I…I’m not upset with you, but I took my frustration out on you, and I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” James sighs, and his heart is still lying broken, but some of the pieces begin to stitch themselves back together with Remus’ words. He takes the last step towards Remus and wraps his arms around his waist, burying his face into his shoulder. When Remus hugs him back, the tension melts from his shoulders.

“It was the right thing to do,” James mumbles into the soft fabric of his boyfriend’s sweater. “Not just for me, but for us. I know you said you were okay with it, but it was never fair. And it wasn’t healthy for you to be jealous of me.”

James isn’t sure how long they just stand there, silently holding each other in an attempt to console each other’s heartbreak. It’s Remus who finally speaks. “He’ll come around eventually…right?”

“I really fucking hope so.”

Chapter Text

Sometime in mid-April, Sirius starts talking to Peter again. It fills James and Remus with relief to see him forgiving at least one of them, although James knows if he’s only just now forgiving Peter for his neutrality, they’re quite a long way from Sirius forgiving James.

At this point, James is starting to think Sirius is just being dramatic. Of course, he knows he could’ve phrased his point better, but Sirius is blowing the whole thing way out of proportion.

Regardless, James takes full advantage of Sirius being on good terms again with Peter by begging the boy for any insight into what’s going on in Sirius’ head.

Peter rolls his eyes the moment James asks.

“Look, I have no clue what’s going on between the three of you,” he says, his eyes full of sympathy that James doesn’t want. “He hasn’t talked to me about it, and I don’t think he will. But…I also don’t think his grudge will last much longer.”

“Really?” James asks, unable to keep the hopeful lilt out of his voice.

“Yeah, I mean…” Peter shrugs, turning his gaze to Remus. “He won’t shut up about how much he regrets missing the last moon. I think he’ll be there for the next one. And, you know, things are always easier in animal form. Just…give him a bit longer. He’ll come around.”

Hearing ‘he’ll come around’ from Peter of all people relieves James in a way that hearing it from Remus can't quite do. Because if there’s one thing to know about Peter Pettigrew, it’s that the boy is no bullshit, through and through. He tells it like it is, and so if he seems to think Sirius will come around, well, he’s probably right.

If the way Remus’ shoulders relax is any indication, he agrees.

“Thanks, Wormtail,” Remus sighs, a small smile on his face that makes James’ heart leap.

“What even happened with you guys?” Peter asks, and before either of them can answer, he adds, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, obviously. I just feel like you’ve all been fighting constantly since—well, since the prank last year.”

Peter’s words leave James breathless because he’s right. Remus and Sirius had made up over the summer after the prank only for James to start ignoring them both when he realized how he felt about them. And then when he and Remus started dating not long after, he and Sirius couldn’t stop bickering. And Merlin, James hates fighting with his best friend.

“I’m sorry you keep getting caught in the middle of it, Pete,” Remus says. At that moment, James is incredibly grateful for his boyfriend’s ability to stay calm, because James is so focused on doing everything he can to not spiral that he has no idea how to participate in this conversation anymore.

Peter just shrugs. “I’ve got other friends besides you losers,” he teases. “As long as you all make up in the end, I can survive being stuck in the middle.”

“Thanks, mate,” Remus says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Will you…will you tell him that James is sorry for being an idiot? And that we miss him?”

With a raised eyebrow, Peter turns his gaze to James, who has calmed down a bit with the help of some deep breathing. “Are you sorry for being an idiot?”

“I—yeah, fuck Pete, of course, I am,” James sputters. He holds back the thought still floating around his brain that Sirius is overreacting. James would shove down his pride and apologize in a heartbeat if it meant Sirius was done ignoring him.

For a moment, Peter continues to stare at him, as if considering the sincerity of his words. Then his face softens, and he sighs, “Yeah, alright. I’ll pass along the message. But if he gets pissed at me for choosing sides again, I’m going to jinx you so hard, James Potter—”

“Message received,” James interrupts, eyes wide and hands held up in surrender.

“Good.”

“”

As it turns out, revising for exams is quite difficult when the only thing James can think about is Sirius Black. Fortunately, Remus and Lily, who always tag team studying during exam season, make it their personal mission to keep him focused.

On some days, their group is bigger than just the three of them. Mary joins them most days, and Lily affectionately refers to it as a “double date” anytime the four of them hang out together, which James thinks is adorable. Sometimes Mary drags Marlene with her, who, in turn, drags her girlfriend Dorcas. On a few occasions, Dorcas has brought some of her Slytherin friends, including Regulus and his scary boyfriend Barty.

James is glad for all the extra company. He’s especially glad that almost no one brings up Sirius. He’s not sure he can stand the barrage of questions whilst trying so hard to pack away all of his thoughts about the boy in favor of studying.

He’s almost relieved in the week leading up to the full moon when a fantastic distraction from Sirius shows up in the form of his clingy, horny boyfriend. It’s a full week of constant touch and attention, a full week of being fucked hard every night and pulled into broom cupboards and empty classrooms for quickies between classes every day. And with the added exhaustion of studying for his exams until he feels like his brain is about to explode, James sleeps better that week than he has all year.

“”

The day of the next full moon in early May, James and Remus both spend the whole day as bundles of anxiety, unsure still whether Sirius will actually show up that night.

In the end, they needn’t have worried. When they arrive at the Shrieking Shack with Peter, Sirius is already there waiting for them. Rather, Padfoot is there, but James grins regardless, glad his best friend decided to show up for Remus.

He immediately transforms into Prongs and takes a step closer to Padfoot. When the black dog doesn’t move, Prongs takes another step closer, and then another, and when he’s finally close enough, he leans forward hesitantly to nuzzle his nose against the soft fur of Padfoot’s shoulder. I’m sorry, he tries to convey.

In an instant, Padfoot turns his head, and for a moment Prongs thinks the dog is about to bite him, but instead, he nuzzles his face against his chest.

Prongs is so excited by the turn of events, that he doesn’t notice Remus approaching until he’s sitting on the ground next to him and Padfoot. He reaches his hand into the thick fur on his neck and scratches just the way he knows Padfoot loves.

“Does this mean we’re forgiven?” Remus asks. Padfoot lets out a low growl but steps forward to lick Remus’ face, making him laugh. “Not forgiven yet, but you missed us? Is that what you’re trying to say, Pads?”

The dog wags his tail and licks Remus’ face again, before turning to Prongs and licking his shoulder.

The whole night Sirius stays as Padfoot, not even changing back after Moony transforms back into Remus at the end of it, but it’s enough that he was there in the first place. He showed up and he ran with his pack. And for Remus and James, that’s more than enough.

“”

Two nights later, James is shaken awake in the middle of the night. He’s curled up behind Remus, his chest against the taller boy’s back and it takes him a moment to realize his boyfriend is still sleeping and, therefore, not the one waking him. He turns his head to the side groggily, ready to tell off Peter for interrupting his beauty sleep, but the person standing at the side of the bed isn’t Peter.

It’s Sirius.

James sits up as quickly as he can without waking Remus, his heart pounding in his chest. Is Sirius going to talk to him? Has he finally been forgiven? Or was he about to be told off, or worse, beat up?

But Sirius doesn’t say anything. He stands there, arms hanging awkwardly at his side, and James can just make out the indentation of his cheek that means he’s biting the inside of it—a nervous habit of his.

Nervous? James wonders. It makes him even more worried. What in the world does Sirius have to be nervous about?

“Is everything okay?” James whispers, but the words are deafening in the dark silence of the dorm.

“I—not really,” Sirius chokes out, his silver eyes glistening in the pale moonlight. James oscillates rather quickly between the need to comfort his friend, the impulse to beat up whoever or whatever hurt him, and awe at his beauty.

He is beautiful. His black curls cascade down his shoulders, his cheekbones are so sharp, but his mouth is so soft. All of him is soft, really—his skin and the gentle curve of his hips and the cushion of his plump lips. All of him except his cheekbones, sharp enough to cut through glass.

“I…miss you, Prongs,” Sirius admits. His fingers grasp at the hem of his shirt, just for something to do. “I miss climbing into bed with you and talking until dawn, and…I’m so tired of fighting with you. I just…I need you, and if sex is off the table now, that’s fine I just—” His voice cracks, and a tear rolls down his cheek. James digs his fingernails into his palm to stop himself from wiping it away. “I want my best friend back.”

He sounds like a child when he says it—broken, hurt, confused. And of course, he feels that way. James and Remus have been hiding this huge secret from him, and he’s far too intelligent to not know that something is going on. But he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t ask what’s different between them, doesn’t ask why there’s something not quite tangible in the air when he’s around them. No, all he asks for is his friend.

And who is James to deny him that? James, who misses his best friend like he’s missing a limb. James, who wants nothing more than to make up with Sirius and stay made up. No more fighting, no more arguments. Just friends. Best friends.

Before he really knows what he’s doing, James is on his feet and Sirius is in his arms. It only takes a second for Sirius to melt against him. His arms squeeze James’ waist tightly—almost too tightly, but James relishes his touch, the way it’s nearly too much—and his face buries into James’ neck.

“I miss you, too,” James sighs, relief flooding his veins. Without thinking about it—which seems to be a theme tonight, one that he blames on being woken in the middle of the night—he leans down, buries his face in Sirius’ hair, and inhales his scent. It’s one he knows well—the jasmine of his shampoo and the bergamot of his body wash and the patchouli of his cologne. He smells like spring, like the sun shining down on a meadow of flowers.

It's James who pulls out of the hug first. He only backs up a few inches and lets his hands slide down to Sirius’. “Come to bed with me,” he whispers, and when Sirius looks up at him nodding, there are fresh tears on his cheeks, but he’s smiling softly. James suspects that his best friend must be feeling as relieved as he is right now.

They walk across the dorm hand in hand and climb onto James’ mattress—it’s always James’ mattress. Never Sirius’. James can count on one hand the number of times Sirius has slept in his own bed from second year until he and Remus started dating. It sends a pang through his chest, the realization that maybe he hasn’t been focusing enough on his friendships recently, especially not this one, the one that matters more than any others.

James settles into his bed, which hasn’t been used in months, on his side, facing Sirius. It reminds him of a night nearly two years ago when they kissed for the first time. He had no way of knowing it then, but that was the night James started falling in love with him.

A moment of silence passes between them. It’s thick with unspoken words, but neither of them seems willing to put them into existence.

Instead of speaking, Sirius reaches across, bridges the distance between the two of them with a hand on James’ cheek. His thumb strokes gently, and it’s all James can do to not let his eyes flutter closed at the sensation.

“I’m sorry—”

“No,” Sirius interrupts, looking resolute. “No more apologies. Just…this. Just us.”

“But—”

“I know, James. I know.”

And he does. James knows he does, but there’s so much he doesn’t know. And James wants to say it—Merlin, he wants to spill his guts. Wants to yell and scream and shout I love you! Remus loves you! We’re in love with you, please, for the love of all that is good, please love us back!

Except there’s Gideon.

Except their friendship could never go back to normal after a declaration like that.

Except there’s no way he could ever feel the same.

At first, all James says is, “Okay.” But then he remembers the look on Sirius’ face when he woke him up. He thinks of his words, I need you. Something is bothering him. Something aside from their fighting. He knows his best friend too well not to know that there’s something else going on. So, in a reflection of Sirius’ actions, James puts his hand on his cheek, and asks, “What happened?”

Tears well up in Sirius’ eyes again and he shuffles forward, his hand moving from James’ cheek to his waist and pressing his face into James’ chest. In a moment, James has the shorter boy wrapped up in his arms, soothing him with back rubs and kisses to the hair as he begins to shake with sobs. Each shudder of his shoulders feels like a stab to the heart.

When the sobs finally slow and the sounds from Sirius progress to sniffles, he finally speaks, his voice thick. “Do you think it’s possible to be in love with two people at once?”

The question sends a jolt through James. A memory rises unbidden. It’s the same question he asked Remus four months prior. The question he asked Remus when he was desperately in love with two of his best friends, yet so sure neither of them could feel the same way. The question he asked that had led to him and Remus admitting their feelings for each other.

He tries to tamper down his beating heart. If Sirius is in love with two people, surely James isn’t one of them. They’re friends only. Besides, he and Remus have discussed the possibility at length. They are in love with Sirius, but they wouldn’t consider, even for a moment, pursuing something with Sirius if he didn’t love them both. They have already chosen each other, and if one of them got to be with Sirius, but not the other, it would come between them. The fight they had a month prior proved that.

So, James forces his heart to calm down, forces his brain to stop wishing, because if Sirius is in love with two people, one of them is Gideon, which means it doesn’t matter who the other is, because neither he nor Remus will get to be with him.

But his friend needs reassurance, so he says, “Yes. Yeah, I do.”

 James isn’t ready for what Sirius says next. He isn’t ready for the way it makes his heart pound so hard that he becomes nauseous. He isn’t ready for the way it alters every cell in his body, the way it wraps around him and warps his sense of himself and the universe. He isn’t ready for the way the flicker of hope is ignited in his core, something so visceral that it makes his gut ache.

“It’s just my luck, isn’t it? I’m in love with two people and neither of them is my boyfriend.”

James freezes. He knows Sirius can feel his muscles tensing, and can probably tell he’s stopped breathing, but to James, it’s as if the whole world has stopped in its tracks. His one saving grace is that Sirius—with his face still hiding away against James’ chest—can’t see the dumbstruck look on his face.

“You—what?” James breathes. He’s unable to say anything else, afraid that at any moment, the string of hope, pulled suffocatingly tight in his chest, could snap.

“We broke up,” Sirius explains, his voice muffled by hiccups and James’ chest. “Well…he dumped me.”

“What happened?” James asks, his voice so small it feels as though it isn’t even coming from his mouth. He’s not sure he’s ever sounded so small.

“Fuck, I—I don’t really want to talk about it tonight, James,” he says in a pressed voice. “Just—can we just sleep? Please?”

“Of course, Padfoot,” James says. He tries to force his muscles to relax, tries to reel in his thoughts and feelings, tries to breathe. If Sirius is aware of the way he’s struggling just to function well enough to say, “Goodnight, Sirius,” he doesn’t show it. Instead, he’s out in seconds, tangled up in James’ arms.

And James—well, James doesn’t get much sleep that night.

“”

Of the three or so hours between Sirius waking him and the sun rising, James sleeps for about one of them. He’s awake still when the sun breaches over the horizon, and he’s awake when Remus slips through the curtains of his bed, looking around the dorm for James, who always wakes up at his side.

When Remus sees him curled up around Sirius, he smiles. James fights the urge to leap from the bed and scream until he’s red in the face, to tell his boyfriend everything his best friend said the night before, though it’s not much. Instead, he bites his lip to hide an anxious grin and waves Remus over. Without asking, he knows exactly what James wants, and complies.

James sighs in relief as he feels the mattress dipping down behind him and a strong arm looping around his waist. He’s vaguely aware that they’d created a James sandwich, with Sirius glued to his front and Remus to his back, and he does his best to ignore the way his heart blooms with it.

“Good morning,” Remus whispers, his lips brushing the shell of James’ ear. James shivers, not just at the contact but at the huskiness of his voice, the low, rough timbre muddled by sleep. Just his voice and his body pressed against him is enough to send a thrill through James, and he shifts his hips back preemptively, not wanting to wake Sirius with the boner he’s sure to get if Remus keeps talking to him.

This motion, of course, has the unintended, but not unwelcome consequence of rubbing his arse against Remus who, unsurprisingly, is already half-hard.

“Good morning to you, too,” James teases. This is usually where he’d rub himself on Remus again, but he’s unwilling to get Remus so excited that he drags him away from Sirius, so he stays still. Remus seems to understand because he doesn’t make any movements either.

For a while, they don’t say anything else, although James can practically hear the question going through Remus’ head, he’s thinking it so hard: Has Sirius forgiven us?

The thing is, James doesn’t know the answer. Sure, Sirius had all but begged James to end the fighting, and sure he had interrupted his attempts to apologize, but does that mean they're okay again? And even if Sirius has forgiven James, he has no idea how he feels about Remus at the moment.

Neither of them says anything until almost an hour later when Sirius’ pretty eyelashes flutter open. James opens his mouth to impart a good morning to his friend but freezes at the look on his friend’s face. He seems to have taken note of the fact that Remus is there, too. His eyes widen, his mouth gapes, and his face turns a deep shade of red. James’ breath catches in his throat and he ignores the way Sirius’ reaction plucks his string of hope hard enough to make it resonate through his whole body.

“I have to pee,” Sirius splutters, nearly falling in his rush to climb out of bed before he all but runs to the bathroom.

“What was that—”

“Sirius and Gideon broke up,” James interrupts, sitting up abruptly and turning to face Remus. Try as he might, he can’t seem to hide the grin that is spreading across his face as he relays the news.

Remus is slow to react as if his brain is processing each word, each syllable, separately. James watches as his eyes slowly widen, as he sits up to face him. “They what?”

“They broke up,” James repeats in a whisper. He’s not sure if Sirius can hear them talking from the bathroom, and the last thing they need is an accidental reveal of their feelings.

“But why?” Remus asks, baffled. “They seemed…I don’t know. Happy?”

“Maybe they were, but Sirius didn’t love him,” James says excitedly. He knows his friend is heartbroken—after all, it was his arms that he cried in last night—but he can’t help the surge of joy he feels. He pushes down the guilty feeling that comes with celebrating Sirius’ heartache. “He told me—last night he said—fuck, it’s really not my business to tell you, but I have to, Moony, I—he told me he’s in love with two people, but neither of them is Gideon.”

Remus takes a sharp breath, and James knows he’s feeling everything James felt last night. The anxiety, the joy, the hope. It’s written across his face plain as day, at least it is to James. “Do you think—”

“I don’t know,” he interrupts, already knowing what Remus is asking. “Do you think—”

“I don’t know,” Remus echoes. He collapses back down onto the bed, arms spread wide across the mattress and stares at the ceiling. “How do we—I mean, what do we do?”

James brings his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. He looks over to the door of the bathroom, which is still firmly shut and now muffling the sound of the shower. “I guess…I can try to find out who it is, but if it is us—”

“There’s no way he’d admit it to you,” Remus finishes for him with a sigh, running his hands down his face. His brows are furrowed together.

James hates it when his boyfriend is stressed but he looks so cute that he can’t help but smile down at him. He reaches out to soothe the worried skin with his thumb before moving his hand down to his chest, feeling the beating of his heart. “Maybe we should ask Peter to help,” he proposes.

Remus' face twists as he considers it. “It can’t hurt, I guess. Are you okay with him knowing…how we feel?”

“Yes,” James answers immediately because if this all went the way he was hoping for it to, Peter would know soon enough anyway. Besides, where he used to feel like something might be wrong with him for loving two people, his talks with Remus have helped him realize it’s completely normal. It’s not something he’s particularly insecure about anymore. “Are you?”

“Yes,” Remus answers, finally directing his gaze away from the ceiling and to James’ face. “We can talk to him while Sirius is in Muggle Studies on Monday.”

“Okay,” James agrees, a nervous smile pulling at his lips. Monday is still three days away, and the idea of waiting that long makes his stomach stir, but with Remus by his side, he knows he can endure it. “In the meantime…we should flirt.”

Remus raises an eyebrow and pushes himself up until he’s sitting with crossed legs facing James. “With him or with each other?”

James shrugs, a smirk playing on his lips. “Both, I guess.”

The taller boy snorts, his head falling forward. When he looks back up at James, he’s grinning mischievously. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

“”

Something James realizes about himself and Remus throughout that weekend is that they flirt differently. James is all about physical touch. And not the overt, over-the-top cuddling and kissing he used to do with Sirius, but small things.

He lets his fingers linger against Sirius’ for a second too long when they brush reaching for the same plate of bacon at the breakfast table. He rests his hand on Sirius’ lower back when he walks past him. He brushes a stray curl behind Sirius’ ear when it falls in his face. For three straight days, James finds any excuse to touch Sirius.

The result is beautiful. He blushes almost every time. Sometimes his breath catches, or his eyelashes flutter close. If he’s in the middle of speaking, he cuts off abruptly. He’s clearly having an effect on the older boy, and each time it happens, it makes James more confident, fuels the flame of hope in his chest.

Remus is, full moon aside, not a very touchy person, especially not in the public eye. No, he’s more of a vocal flirter. He spends the weekend complimenting Sirius at every turn—“I like it when you put your hair up like that—it looks hot,” and “Your eyes are such a pretty silver; a werewolf's only weakness,” and “Merlin, you look beautiful today,” and “You have such a lovely laugh.”

He flirts with his eyes, too, something James is intimately aware of because, after four months of dating, it still makes him blush. He makes intense eye contact when he’s talking to Sirius, making the shorter boy blush and avert his eyes. Remus is not shy about checking him out, either. Any time Sirius walks into a room, Remus eyes him shamelessly, watching the movement of his hips and legs and, when he’s facing the other way, his bum.

Sirius is just as bashful with Remus’ flirting as he is with James’. And on Sunday night, celebrating a weekend of successful flirting and the raging fire of hope that they share, Remus fucks James into the mattress, his dirty talk made up of whispers about what they would do to Sirius—with Sirius—if it came out that their feelings were returned.

It’s some of the best sex James has had in his life.

“”

Peter, to their relief, is not weirded out by their feelings for Sirius. He is, however, annoyingly amused, laughing so hard at their admission that he can barely breathe. When he finally collects himself, he pantomimes wiping a tear from his eye, and James almost wishes they hadn’t said anything to start with.

“So will you help us?” Remus asks, sounding just as embarrassed and annoyed as James feels. “Or are you just going to keep laughing at us like a dick bag?”

“Yeah, ‘course I’ll help you, arse wipe,” Peter says, still grinning like Christmas came early. “To be honest, I really doubt he’d tell me anything, but I’ll certainly try.”

“Thank you,” James sighs, ready to walk away from his friend.

“Don’t be a grump,” Peter chastises playfully. “I’m only laughing because—well, it does explain what I had been calling the weirdest weekend of my life. I just woke up Friday morning and suddenly you both were flirting with Sirius like your life depended on it.” James snorts because, when he puts it like that, it is a bit funny. “For what it’s worth, I hope he feels the same. I do want you to be happy, I just also reserve the right to make fun of you. You know, friendship.”

“Sure, Pete,” Remus groans, but James sees right through the grumpiness he’s trying to portray and into the grateful look in his eyes.

“”

With exams right around the corner, James and Remus decide to calm down with the flirting, knowing they’ll have all summer to address their feelings, and also that Peter was right—he’s not likely to get anything out of Sirius about who he’s in love with.

That’s not to say that they stop flirting. James and Sirius haven’t kissed since before their big fight, but they cuddle all the time, just like they did back before they added kissing to their relationship. And James finds any excuse to touch him. Remus, likewise, finds every opportunity to compliment Sirius, to make eye contact that is somehow intimate.

Peter isn’t able to get anything out of Sirius about the two people he loves. He doesn’t even say anything to James, which just makes him sure that at least one of them is either him or Remus, because it’s not like Sirius to not tell James something. He hopes desperately that it’s both of them.

After a few weeks, Sirius starts…flirting back. Or at least, that’s what it seems like. Although he still becomes flushed in response to Remus and James’ coquetry, he becomes quicker to recover and then does things that leave the other two just as flustered as him.

Like in the library, when James leans in a bit closer to the smaller boy than necessary to read a portion of the book lying open in front of him, and Sirius responds with a hand on James’ knee, and a whisper in his ear about the Draught of Living Death—a completely mundane topic, but James can feel the hot breath against his skin and for a moment he forgets how to breathe.

Or like when Sirius comes down to breakfast late one morning with mascara elongating his already gorgeous lashes and something shimmering on his lips that makes both James and Remus want to devour his mouth, and responds to Remus’, “You’re so beautiful, Pads,” with a wink as his teeth sink tantalizingly into the soft flesh of his shiny lower lip. James swears he hears Remus’ breath catch. Or maybe it’s his own.

“”

Despite their earlier declarations that they would tamper down the flirting, in the week leading up to the full, Remus’ flirting gets bolder. He becomes touchy with Sirius, who doesn’t seem to mind at all. He takes the opportunity to cuddle up to the werewolf when it’s offered or to press a kiss on his hair or cheek. The three boys spend much of their week curled up on a couch in the Common Room, quizzing each other for their written exams.

Their friends start to notice Remus flirting that week if they haven’t already. After all, it’s not unusual for James and Sirius to be all over each other, but for Remus and Sirius…well, something has to be going on, surely.

James can feel the eyes on them, but he doesn’t particularly care. Not when Sirius is tracing shapes onto his knee while they study by the lake or when he’s watching the two people he loves lean against each other, wrap their arms around each other, sharing whispers that only the three of them can hear.

He doesn’t even mind, really, when the stares turn into whispers. Or when whispers turn into gossip. No, all James cares about is this—is them. In the course of a few weeks, his whole world has been narrowed down to these two boys who share his heart.

“”

The next full moon is only five days before exams begin and, as he typically does in that week before, Peter falls into a stress-induced fever. It’s nothing that the marvelous Madame Pomfrey can’t handle, but it means he can’t run with the rest of the pack this month.

Of course, James hopes Peter is feeling better soon, but we won’t lie and say he isn’t a little thankful that Peter’s exam sickness correlates with the full moon after the way the last few weeks have been going. James almost suspects that Peter is overdoing it so the three of them can run together without him—after all, he seems sicker this year than he did last year when they took their O.W.L.s—but when James tries to ask, Peter vehemently denies doing such a thing. James thanks him anyway.

When they arrive at the Shrieking Shack, Sirius is nervous. His shoulders are hunched, making him seem smaller than he already is, and he’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

James can’t blame him for his anxiety. Moony has a habit of playing with Prongs more than the others since Remus and James started dating. Sirius must be worried about being left out, especially if he’s picked up at all on how much the other two boys like him.

But he needn’t worry. Even if Moony shows a preference for Prongs, he’ll make sure Padfoot doesn’t get left out. And frankly, James has a hard time believing Sirius’ worries will come to fruition after how much bonding he and Remus have done since the last full. Regardless, James wants nothing more than to ease the boy’s anxiety, so he wraps him into a hug and presses a kiss to his temple. He can feel some of the tension leave his body in an instant.

For a while, they fall into their usual routine. Remus sits on the floor and James and Sirius transform into their Animagi and curl up on the floor with him, letting him rest against them and pet them. When he starts to get antsy, the Animagi know that the transformation is about to begin, so they back away, giving him space and leaning against each other, bracing themselves for the harsh change.

It never gets easier to watch their Moony transform. The way his bones crack and limbs elongate, the way his spine curves and his face morphs. Really, though, it’s the screaming that hurts the most. When the Marauders first started joining him for the full moon, Remus tried to hold back his screaming, until one time he bit clean through his tongue. It took Madame Pomfrey days to get it reattached, and the three other boys forbade him from trying to muffle his screaming again.

That doesn’t make hearing it any easier, though.

When the transformation is finished, Padfoot and Prongs rush to his side, nuzzling against him, licking at the spots they know give him the most pain. Prongs takes a step back to appreciate the sight of his Padfoot taking care of his Moony. It sends something warm fluttering through his chest, even in stag form.

Moony is a truly beautiful wolf. He’s huge, first of all, towering over Padfoot when standing at full height. And actually, not counting the antlers, he might even be taller than Prongs. He’s covered in unbearably soft, fluffy grey fur, and his eyes—well, they’re Remus’ eyes. They’re the only things about him that don’t change, just as strikingly green as when he’s human.

Once his pain subsides, he begins to show his playful side. He nudges Padfoot with his snout, licks his scruff, and bites him. Not to hurt, but to show that he’s ready to run.

If he could, Prongs would be smiling. But since he can’t, he instead leads the other two out of the Shack and into the Forbidden Forest at a gallop, knowing the dog and wolf are following closely behind.

They run for a long while, into the depths of the forest, where the trees become so thick that they have to slow down to a jog until they find themselves in a meadow of flowers, the soft, pale light of the moon shining down so the landscape looks like a painting.

This is where they always end up. And this is where they play. They sniff and lick and nibble, they push and tackle and topple, and, just as James had suspected, Moony pays just as much attention to Padfoot as he does to Prongs. He can tell by the way Padfoot leaps and pants and rolls around in the grass that he’s ecstatic about it.

And James can’t help but be ecstatic, too.

Hours later, when the moon is about to set, Prongs and Padfoot lead Moony out of the Forest and back to the Shack. The two Animagi curl against each other as the werewolf morphs back, and only a second later, they're at his side in human form to catch him when he wobbles. 

Together, they lead him to the bed in the corner, lay him down gently, and inspect him for injuries. He has a small cut on his leg that is probably from a twig or rock, based on the way it heals when James casts a charm on it. They force him to drink some water, wrap him in warm clothes, and settle in on either side of him underneath the pile of blankets. Despite the rising heat that indicates the incoming summer, Remus is shivering. And although Sirius and James begin to sweat almost immediately, they lay there, uncomplaining, with their Moony, and they hold him tight until dawn.

Chapter Text

Just before sunrise, before Madame Pomfrey shows up to collect Remus, James and Sirius crawl out of bed to depart unseen. They make sure he’s still tucked in snugly, knowing how cold he would get without their added body heat.

Before they go, James presses a kiss onto his boyfriend’s cheek, letting his lips linger against his smooth skin, raised with the end of a scar. And as the two boys are about to leave, Sirius turns on his heel, rushes back to the bed, and presses a kiss of his own to Remus’ temple.

The sight of it—the way Sirius’ long hair falls, caressing Remus’ skin, the gentle hand cradling the base of his skull, the slow, careful way he presses his lips to that tender spot in a way that’s almost intimate—makes James’ heart swell. There’s something about it that feels right. That makes his skin tingle and his cheeks flush with desire—the desire to watch the two men he loves love each other, watch them care for each other. To care for them and let them care for him.

When Sirius pulls himself back off the bed and walks sleepily back to James, he has to fight off the urge to lean down and draw him in for a kiss. The only thing that stops him is a sense of loyalty to Remus—he should be there, awake and participating when they reveal their feelings to Sirius. In fact, James desperately wants Remus to be the first one of them to kiss Sirius. James has had more than his share of kisses with the shorter boy, and, though none of those kisses have been romantic necessarily, it’s only fair that Remus kisses him first.

Instead of kissing him, James wraps his arms around Sirius, like an acknowledgment of their feelings, like a way of communicating without words. Sirius must understand, James thinks, because he melts into James’ touch, and holds him close with his face buried in his neck. James puts his nose in Sirius’ curls and breathes in the familiar scent of his jasmine shampoo, and something in his chest settles.

He’s only able to hold himself back so much, though, and he finds himself littering Sirius’ hair with kisses, drawing a satisfied sigh from the boy in his arms. Sirius responds to James’ kisses with some of his own—soft, barely there brushes of his lips against James’ neck that send him reeling.

James gives Sirius a squeeze and steps away, his patience being severely tested. Wait for Remus, he has to remind himself. He takes a deep breath, forces himself to focus, and pushes away the thought of Sirius’ lips against his own.

He takes Sirius’ hand, laces their fingers together, and leads them through the tunnel that takes them back to the Whomping Willow. Sirius lets himself be guided across the lawn, through the hallways, and up to Gryffindor Tower, despite knowing the way well enough to walk it with his eyes shut. They’re silent the entire way, both too entranced by the feeling of their hands linked together, the way the touch sets their skin ablaze.

When they arrive at their dorm, James leads Sirius to his bed, like it’s the most natural thing in the world—and really, it is natural. It’s natural to lie in bed next to him, to pull the covers up to their chins and wrap the smaller boy in his arms, to stroke his hair until he falls asleep.

The only thing that would make it more natural, James thinks, is if Remus were there with them.

“”

They’re able to get a few hours of sleep before they have to be up for classes. They drag themselves out of bed early enough so that they’re able to visit Remus in the Hospital Wing before breakfast, just like they do every morning after the full moon.

James wants desperately to hold Sirius’ hand again, but he refrains, because this time, Peter is with them. He doesn’t stop himself from brushing their fingers together as they walk, though, or placing his hand on the small of Sirius’ back to guide him through the door to the Infirmary. 

Typically, Remus sleeps through most of the day after the full, but with exams in just a few days, James isn’t surprised to see his boyfriend awake and half-dressed, up on his feet with his back to the door, stretching out the knots he’s sure to have after last night’s transformation.

The moment James sees him, it's like they're the only two in the room, and he freezes on the spot. Remus’ arms are stretched above his head, the muscles in his forearms tense, and his undershirt rides up, exposing a sliver of tanned skin.

He had spent so much energy on self-control with Sirius after Remus’ transformation last night that he doesn’t have much left in the tank this morning, and he finds himself across the room in a second, his arms wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist, his face pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.

Remus jumps a bit in surprise before he realizes who it is that’s attached to him, and then he chuckles softly, turning around in James’ grip to return the hug.

“You should be sleeping,” James mumbles, burying his nose into Remus’ neck. He smells a little wolfy and earthy and James can tell he hasn’t had the opportunity to shower yet, but beneath it all is something that’s specifically Remus that’s so comforting, so invigorating that it makes him shiver.

“I’ll nap during my free period,” Remus offers as a compromise, and James knows better than to argue with him about going to class right before exams.

Instead of a reply, James cranes his neck up to kiss him softly, slips a hand up the back of his shirt to trace a finger up his spine in a way he knows drives Remus crazy, and—

Someone behind them clears their throat, reminding the two boys that they are not, in fact, alone. James steps back from Remus, leaving an arm wrapped around his waist, and turns to look at his friends. Peter looks amused and Sirius—well, Sirius is flushed, his eyes wide and his bottom lip between his teeth. Merlin, James wants to kiss him. A thought that Remus shares, if the audible way his breath catches is any indication.

“Alright, Remus?” Peter asks, shattering the tension between his three friends.

Remus’ only response is a tight smile and a nod, his eyes never leaving Sirius. James, on the other hand, can’t stop watching Peter, the amused glint in his eyes, the way he looks back at James with a face that clearly says, Seriously? You three are ridiculous. James is inclined to agree.

“Right, I’m going to…go,” Peter drawls, and James is pretty sure he’s the only one who hears him. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

As soon as he’s out the door, James reaches a hand out—an invitation—to Sirius. A wide grin spreads across his face, sending fireworks sparking through James’ stomach, and he all but runs towards James and Remus, wrapping his arms tightly around them both, and pulling them into a three-person hug. Remus laughs—a sound that has a similar effect on James to Sirius’ smile—and kisses them each on the head, first Sirius, and then James.

James isn’t sure how long they stand there like that, all wrapped around each other in a tangle of limbs and unspoken love, but they don’t break apart until Madame Pomfrey walks into the Infirmary to chastise Remus for being out of bed so early. Remus shrugs her off, but thanks her for caring for him, just like he always does, before he finishes getting dressed and the three boys begin their descent down to the Great Hall for breakfast with Sirius in the middle, one hand in Remus’, and one hand in James’.

“”

It's not until the last period of the day when Sirius has Muggle Studies, that James is finally able to get Remus alone. Not that he’s complaining, of course. The two boys had spent the entire day with Sirius, showering him with attention between intensive periods of exam revision.

James isn’t sure he’s ever seen his best friend so happy. It fills him with pride to be one of the people to put that smile on his face. It also makes him completely sure that Sirius returns his and Remus’ feelings, and he’s desperate to get Remus alone long enough to share his thoughts on the matter and come up with a game plan.

Unfortunately, things don’t go exactly to plan, because Remus is exhausted. James ignores the urge to chastise him for waking up before he was ready that morning, knowing it won’t do anything to help. Instead, he helps his boyfriend out of his clothes and into his bed and holds him while he drifts off.

Things don’t stray too far from the plan, though, because as he lays there, half asleep in James’ arms, Remus whispers, “I think he loves us.”

James smiles, and whispers back, “I think so, too.”

“Tonight,” Remus mumbles. “Tell him tonight.”

And even though his heart pounds in his chest at the prospect of finally, finally telling Sirius how they feel, all he can do is agree. Because they love him, and he loves them. Tonight.

“”

It doesn’t happen that night.

Remus, in all his post-full moon exhaustion, sleeps through dinner and straight into the night, and James doesn’t have the heart to wake him.

Friday proves fruitless as well, with the hectic studying of every student at Hogwarts—including James, Remus, and Sirius—taking away every opportunity and free space that they could use to talk. Even their dorm room has been occupied by a study group including Peter and a few of the boys from other years.

And by the time the weekend comes, Remus is so stressed about the upcoming exams that the couple decides to wait just a little bit longer—just until their exams are over. They agree that it will go better, anyway, when they’ve all relaxed, no longer anxiously studying, and when they actually have time to spend together.

This doesn’t stop the new dynamic that’s risen between the three of them—walking everywhere holding hands, hugging at every opportunity, pressing kisses to each other’s heads and cheeks and hands. James even transfigures Remus’ bed, making it a few feet wider, so that the three of them can fit in it together at night, curled around each other the same way they were the night of the full moon, taking turns sleeping in the middle.

James finds himself anxiously awaiting the summer. Remus had agreed to go Wales for a week to visit his Mum, but now that he’s 17, he can choose to spend his summer away from home, away from the suffocating restrictions and overbearing eyes of his werewolf-fearing father. So, Remus plans to spend most of the summer with James and Sirius at the Potters, and James can't be more excited.

The anticipation of nearly two full months with the two people he loves more than anything makes time feel like it’s dragging; like the end of term will never come. He’s reaching, reaching, reaching for it and it keeps slipping through his fingers before he can grasp it.

He knows, logically, it’s also the anticipation of actually talking to Sirius about their feelings. On occasion, the three boys will be left alone, usually only for a few moments, but long enough for James to feel anxious about the conversation they’ve yet to have, the conversation they need to have. The way they act together sometimes, it’s easy to feel like Sirius is already a part of his and Remus’ relationship, but he’s not, and there’s an important conversation to have before it becomes official.

None of this is helped by how desperately James wants to kiss Sirius. A desperation that is only outshone by his desire to see Remus and Sirius kiss. He imagines it some nights, as he’s falling asleep. He drowns out the constant drone of facts he’s stuffed into his brain for his exams with images of his boyfriend and his best friend sharing kisses—some gentle and sweet, interspersed with giggles. Others deep, passionate, and with a suspicious lack of clothing.

Needless to say, the two weeks of his sixth year exams are some of the longest of James’ life.

“”

Long though they are, the two weeks do come to an end eventually. On Friday afternoon, James, Remus, and Sirius all take their Charms practical exam, and when they finish, they walk out with a sigh of relief that comes with the end of exams, but with a nervous sort of excitement, like they all know what’s coming next.

It’s a beautiful day outside—fitting for the last day of exams. The sun is shining through a light scatter of clouds, and the warmth of summer is seeping in, but it’s not outrageously hot yet. The rest of their class is heading towards the shore of the lake, ready to bask in the sun and newfound freedom, but James, not willing to waste another second, leads Sirius and Remus up flight after flight of stairs until they reach the top of the Astronomy Tower.

He realizes as they’re ascending the last staircase that he should’ve checked the Marauder’s Map before coming up, but they are, gratefully, alone when they arrive. So, James casts a Cushioning Charm—much like the one he just performed for Professor Flitwick in his exam—on a patch of floor near the railing that overlooks the mountains surrounding the school. The view is beautiful, and a gentle breeze is blowing in, leaving James shivering despite the June heat.

Sirius is the first to sit, and immediately, James’ heart starts to pound. He glances shyly at Remus, and raises an eyebrow as if to ask, Are we really about to do this? His boyfriend must be able to read the question on his face because he smiles nervously—in a way that says, Don’t worry, I’m just as anxious as you are—and nods. And then he leans over, presses a kiss on James’ lips, and sits down on the padded floor next to Sirius. James gulps and follows suit, sitting on Sirius’ other side.

For a long moment, they sit in silence. It’s comfortable, if a bit anxious. James is itching to reach out and touch Sirius, so he does. He grabs Sirius’ hand with his own, lacing their fingers together. Sirius looks up at him and smiles, and James’ heart does a somersault.

Their eye contact is only broken when Sirius turns his gaze to look at Remus instead, who has taken Sirius’ other hand in his. James bites back the smile growing on his lips before he realizes there’s no need to hide it and lets his joy show fully on his face as he looks between the other two boys.

It’s Remus who finally breaks the silence, not to James’ surprise. “I think we should talk,” he says.

Sirius’ smile falters. “Do we have to?” he asks, his voice so soft as he stares into Remus’ eyes that James almost doesn’t hear it.

“It’s a good thing, Pads,” James says, squeezing his hand. “Or at least, I think you’ll find it to be good. We…have something we need to tell you.”

He sees the indent form on Sirius’ cheek that means he’s chewing on it. James reaches a hand up to his face and brushes against his cheek with his knuckles as if to ease the flesh from between his teeth. “Okay,” is all he says, looking back and forth between James and Remus.

“Shall you say it or shall I?” Remus asks, and his teasing smile is almost enough to mask the nervousness on his face.

“You do it,” James smiles back. “You’ve wanted to for longer.”

“Yes, alright,” Remus breathes.

James turns his eyes back to Sirius, wanting to see his face when he hears what Remus is about to say. He brushes a curl out of the boy’s face so he can see him better, and he leans into the touch, so James keeps his hand there, supporting the weight of his head while he looks at Remus, waiting.

“Well,” Sirius says, his voice shaky. “Go on, then, Moony.”

Remus’ eyes flick back to James one last time, and he gives his boyfriend an encouraging look—a smile and a soft nod. Remus takes a deep breath, and then he’s spilling their deepest, darkest secret—except it isn’t that deep or dark anymore, is it?

“We’re in love with you,” he says. James nearly bursts into laughter. Trust Remus not to beat around the bush. But the werewolf is immediately a flushing, stuttering mess as if he didn’t mean to come out and say it with such brevity. “I mean—well I just—both of us, that is, James and I—and you can, well he can—I mean—yeah. We love you. Both of us. We’re in love with you.”

James has never been happier to have his eyes on Sirius. His whole face lights up with Remus’ confession, an apprehensive sort of joy like he can’t quite believe that this is really happening. Frankly, James can’t quite believe it either.

“I—really?” Sirius asks, turning his head back to James, biting back his full smile. “You’re not pulling my leg?”

And when James nods, when James confirms, “Yes, really, Sirius. We’re both in love with you,” the full force of his smile shines through. He throws his head back in laughter, a contagious laughter so bright, so genuine, that James and Remus can’t help but laugh with him.

“Fuck,” Sirius sighs when his laughter finally dies down. “I—I kind of can’t believe this is happening right now. I mean—fuck.” He takes a long look at James, and then at Remus. They’re both content to give Sirius a moment to process, to find the words he wants to say. Finally, though, they come to him. “I’m in love with you, too. Both of you—I—I love you both.”

James thinks there isn’t anything in the world that could wipe the smile off of his face at that moment. He knew—he knew Sirius loved them, but to hear it from his own lips brings him to a level of ecstasy he’s only known once before. The only other time he’s felt this—this giddiness, this pounding of his heart, swooping of his soul type of joy—was when he heard the same words from Remus in January.

“Can I kiss you?” Remus asks, and James hears Sirius’ breath hitch, sees him nod. Remus puts a hand on Sirius’ cheek and draws him in slowly, closer and closer until their lips touch, moving against one another languidly, and oh.

This. This is what James has been missing. Suddenly, watching the two men he loves love each other, his life feels complete. And for the first time, James reaches into the depths of his mind for the box that he had sealed so tightly before, the box labeled Remus and Sirius, DO NOT OPEN.

And he opens it.

And inside is this. It’s every time he’s kissed one of them, wishing the other was around to enjoy it. It’s every conversation Remus and James have had about how much they love Sirius. It’s every time that melancholy feeling surfaced, the sorrow of not having them both, and the joy of watching them care for each other. It’s every morning over the past two weeks, waking up next to both Remus and Sirius, holding them in his arms, them holding each other. It’s every tender moment—hair brushed out of eyes, kisses to foreheads, soothing thumbs across cheekbones or knuckles.

He feels the overwhelming urge to touch, and he can, so he does. He wraps his arms around Sirius’ waist from behind and presses a kiss to his shoulder, and then another to the junction between his shoulder and his neck. He kisses along the expanse of Sirius’ neck, over his pulse point, and behind his ear, all the while he’s still kissing Remus.

A soft moan escapes from Sirius’ throat, and then Remus breaks the kiss, turning to James with a grin. “Impatient,” he teases.

James laughs, his chin perched on Sirius’ shoulder. “Yeah, well, you watch Sirius and I kiss and see how patient you are.”

Sirius whimpers, almost too quiet to hear. Almost. James isn’t surprised to hear it. He always used to love the attention when it was just the two of them—James hadn’t expected it to be different now with Remus involved as well.

“Go ahead then,” Remus says, a hungry glint in his eyes.

James doesn’t waste a moment. He hooks a finger under Sirius’ chin, turning his head to face him. “May I?” he asks. Sirius nods enthusiastically. James isn’t entirely sure who moves forward first, but then they’re kissing, and it’s familiar and new and comforting and exciting all at once. His lips are soft, and his cheek is soft under his fingertips, and when he parts his lips for James, his tongue is soft.

He shudders under Sirius’ touch on his waist, the chill of his fingertips reaching his skin through the confines of his shirt. He feels a hand on the back of his neck, big and rough and firm. The contrast between Remus’ fingers and Sirius’ sends a jolt down his spine and before he can stop himself he’s moaning into Sirius’ mouth.

He pulls away, cheeks flush with either arousal or embarrassment, he really can’t tell. As soon as his lips are free, Remus uses the grip he has on the back of James’ neck to pull him in, and James obliges, leaning across Sirius to kiss his boyfriend. It isn’t anything like his slow, soft kiss with Sirius. It’s dirty and rough and more teeth and tongue than lips. It’s desperate and hungry and so full of want.

James almost wonders if he’s miscounted the days until the next full, if they’re somehow within the week before when Moony is sitting right on the edge, filling Remus with the urge to claim, to devour. But no, his count is perfect. His count is always perfect. The next full is nearly two weeks away, not anywhere near close enough to be having this sort of effect on Remus.

The only logical conclusion, then, is that this is the effect that James and Sirius have on him. This is how he responds to watching them kiss. And Merlin, that realization makes him weak. He just knows that if he were standing, he’d be weak at the knees. As it is, a noise escapes James that he’s quite sure he’s never made before. A noise somewhere between a whine and a moan as Remus drags his teeth across James’ lip.

“Fuck,” Sirius whispers beside them. Remus pulls away with a chuckle, turning to nuzzle Sirius’ neck, no doubt inhaling his scent in a way that tells James precisely how affected he is by the other two boys. “You two are so hot together,” Sirius says, a blissed-out grin on his face as he strokes the hair at Remus’ nape. “Knew you would be. Obviously.”

“Given it much thought, have you, Pads?” James teases. He’s attempting to sound sultry, seductive, but he’s still breathless from his kiss with both Sirius and Remus, from watching them kiss each other, and so, instead, his voice comes out weak and shaky. He can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed.

“Oh, you have no idea, Prongsie,” Sirius replies, sounding much more confident than James had. The sound Remus makes at Sirius’ declaration can only be described as a growl.

James snorts, the shock of the possessive sound from Remus’ throat snapping him back to reality, and nudges his boyfriend in the leg with his foot. “Oi, cool it, Wolfy,” he teases, making Sirius laugh. The sound sends James’ heart racing and, where in the past he would ignore it, now he leans over and gives Sirius a chaste kiss, before bowing his head down to kiss Remus’ shoulder. When Remus finally lifts his face from Sirius’ neck, James rewards him with a kiss on his lips.

“So, erm…what happens now?” Sirius asks, suddenly looking much more apprehensive than he had a moment ago. As if James and Remus were going to respond, Well, the snogging was fun, and we told you we’re in love with you, but we have each other so we’re good. Bye!

James slides his fingers through his black curls, scratching slightly at his scalp in a way he knows Sirius loves, and he just melts. Remus grabs one of Sirius’ hands with his own and soothes him with a thumb rubbing across his knuckles. He gives James an expectant look, encouraging him to say the words that are on both of their lips.

“Sirius,” James starts, using the hand on the other boy’s head to guide his gaze up to his face. His silver eyes look up at him, bright and hopeful, and James falls just a little bit more in love. “We want you to be our boyfriend. If that’s what you want.”

Sirius takes a sharp breath, his eyes darting to look at Remus to gauge his reaction. James finds himself looking at Remus as well and is so glad he does. The look Remus is giving Sirius can only be described as fond. His green eyes are softer than James has ever seen. He doesn’t even have to say anything to Sirius to reassure him, but he does anyway. “It’s true,” he says, bringing Sirius’ hand up to his lips to press a soft kiss to the back of it. “We love you. We want you to be with us.”

“All three of us?” Sirius asks, looking back at James. James smiles, nods. And then a brilliant smile spreads across Sirius’ face, his eyes glowing with unshed tears as says, “I want that, too.”

“So that’s a yes?” Remus asks, looking for one last bit of confirmation.

“Of course it’s a yes, you complete—”

They never find out what Sirius was going to call Remus, because he’s cut off by Remus’ lips against his, and James’ arms wound tightly around his waist, sending him into a fit of giggles.

James thinks this is the happiest he’s ever felt in his life.

“”

“I want to know,” Sirius drawls with a smile on his face from his spot between James and Remus. The three boys are still hiding away in the Astronomy Tower. Hours have passed, and the sun has started to set, but they show no sign of moving any time soon. “How you knew you were in love with each other. And with me, of course.”

James laughs, drawing the attention of his two boyfriends, who are now expecting him to go first. “I…I don’t know, really,” he admits. “I spent so long pushing down my feelings for both of you. Sirius, you were with Gideon, and I already knew Remus was in love with you, so…I didn’t think I’d stand a chance with either of you. By the time I let myself feel it, I was already madly in love with both of you.”

Remus goes next, and his answer is much more satisfying than James’, but sadder, too. He’s loved both of them for far longer than James had realized. “Well, I had a crush on James back in first year,” Remus smirks, leaving James flabbergasted. “I got over that quick, though, once I realized how annoying he was.” James gasps dramatically, and Sirius laughs. The beautiful sound makes it worth being called annoying.

“I started liking Sirius in…third year, I think?” Remus continues, seemingly unaware of the pitying looks his boyfriends are giving him. “When I missed an Astronomy class for the full moon, and he brought me back the best-written notes I’d ever seen him write and then made me sit through his version of the lesson.”

“I had to make sure you got the full experience, didn’t I?” Sirius asks as if he had given Remus just as good of a lesson as Professor Sinistra would have. To be fair to Sirius, it was quite a good lesson.

“Of course, Pads,” Remus laughs.

“What about me?” James asks, feeling foolish for having never asked before.

“End of fourth year,” Remus answers. “When you all came to me to show me you had become Animagi. Peter was hellbent on making sure I knew it was all your idea, that he and Sirius hadn’t even thought it possible at first, that you pushed so hard for it—and you jinxed him for it. You didn’t even want any credit, you just…”

James smiles softly at the memory. He had told Pete not to tell Remus it was his idea. He didn’t want glory; he didn’t want to stand out amongst his friends. He had just wanted to take care of Remus. Now, he’s ridiculously glad Peter went against his wishes. If the boy were here now, James is sure he could kiss him, he’s so elated.

“You wanted to protect me,” Remus says. “To take care of me. That’s all you ever want. And, anyway, that realization created an awfully confusing summer for me, until I figured out I wanted you both. Never thought I’d have you both, though. It feels unreal.” He goes quiet for a moment, and James opens his mouth to speak, only for the werewolf to cut him off. “Anyways, that’s quite enough from me. Sirius?”

“Yes?” Sirius asks.

“Your turn,” James says, poking him in the side.

Sirius’ eyes widen. “No, that’s okay.”

“Oh, come on, this was your idea!” James protests. “Come on, please.” He makes his best pouty eyes at his boyfriend, and it works. Sirius sighs and rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide the small smile on his lips.

“Fine,” he says begrudgingly. “But it’s not all romantic like Remus’.”

“That’s fine,” James says, and Remus nods along in agreement.

“I…I have no idea when I fell in love with you idiots,” he admits, staring down at his fingers like they’re the most interesting things in the world. James grabs one of his hands and Remus, clearly on the same page, grabs his other one. Sirius rolls his eyes again but looks back up at his boyfriends. “I didn’t even realize it for myself. Gideon pointed it out to me.”

He goes silent, but neither of the other boys pry, instead giving Sirius the time to sort through his thoughts. A moment later, he continues. “I kept…fighting with you both. Especially James. And saying stupid shit. And after our last fight, I wouldn’t tell Gideon what we argued about. And of course, now I know why I wouldn’t. Because I was angry at you for ‘breaking up’ with me—” he forms quotation marks with his fingers as best he can with his hands occupied by James and Remus when he says the words ‘breaking up.’ “—and I was jealous that you two were together and that I couldn’t have you. But at the time, I didn’t know why, I just…couldn’t say it.

“When I finally did tell him, it was like something clicked into place for him. He asked, ‘Is it James or Remus?’ And I had no clue what he meant, but he just kept going. ‘James or Remus? James or Remus?’ And then he said, ‘Either way, it clearly isn’t me.’ And that’s when I realized he was asking which of you I was in love with because even then, I knew I wasn’t in love with him, not in the way he was in love with me. And then he broke up with me.

“Anyways, I spent almost two weeks after that trying to figure out who I loved, only to realize…I love you both. And it broke my heart a little bit because I thought I could never have either of you. You just—you seemed so happy together. You were so happy together. I had no way of knowing you wanted me. But I missed you both desperately, and I was so mad at myself for missing the full moon before, so I came and ran with you…and that’s why I stayed in dog form the whole time. I was worried if I talked to you, I’d end up crying.

“But after that full, I knew I had to make up with you. I missed you both so damn much. And that’s the night I crawled into bed with you, Prongs, and told you Gideon and I broke up. And I asked if you thought it was possible to be in love with two people at once. And you said yes. And then the next day, you and Remus were flirting with me. I thought I was bloody dreaming. Or it was a joke or something. But a few weeks later,  you were still flirting, so I started flirting back, even though I wasn’t sure if you meant it or not.

“And then the full moon came again, and it was just us three, and Moony was flirting—as much as a wolf can. And I finally realized that…”

“We’re in love with you,” Remus finishes for him.

By the time he finishes his story, the sun has completely set, and the stars are shining high in the sky. If James, even for a moment, could take his eyes off Sirius, he’d be able to find his boyfriend’s namesake in the sky—the brightest star. But even Sirius the star can’t outshine the look in Sirius Black’s eyes when he echoes, “You’re in love with me.”

“”

Nobody at Hogwarts is surprised to find out that James and Remus are now, officially, dating Sirius as well. In fact, the most surprising part about the whole situation is how damn long it took the three of them to get their shit together.

James supposes he’s lucky for that, at least. Because with Sirius living with the Potters, and Remus’ plans to spend most of his summer with them, James has no choice but to explain their unorthodox relationship to his parents, and he isn’t quite sure how they’ll react.

And that’s why the three boys find themselves saying goodbye to each other in a cabin on the Hogwarts Express, rather than on the Platform.

“I promise,” James says, for what must be the tenth time that day, not to mention how many times he’s said it since they all became official a few days prior. Remus’ hand rubbing circles into his back is one of the only things keeping him from completely freaking out. “As soon as we get back home, I’ll tell them.”

“It’s alright, Prongs,” Sirius soothes, again, not for the first time. He places a hand on James’ cheek. “You take as much time as you need. And, it’s like Peter said earlier—” James’ panic had not been limited to only his boyfriends. “—even if they don’t understand it, they’re still going to love you. And they won’t judge you.”

“But if you’re really that nervous, we can tell Padfoot’s parents first,” Remus teased, making them all giggle.

“Merlin, can you imagine?” Sirius cackles. “Walburga was pissed enough when she found out Regulus had one boyfriend—”

“To be fair his one boyfriend is a psychopath,” James points out, shuddering at the memory of Christmas day—when he unwrapped the dagger James had gifted him with a glint in his eyes that made him regret buying him a present in the first place.

“Right,” Sirius agrees, “but my two boyfriends are a blood traitor and a half-blood werewolf—”

“Poor half-blood werewolf,” Remus interjects.

“Poor,” Sirius corrects himself, shifting his gaze to Remus with an amused grin, “half-blood werewolf, so I think I win the pissing Mummy off game.”

“You were always really good at that game,” James jokes. His boyfriends give each other an unreadable look like they have just accomplished something big, and James realizes he’s not panicking anymore. He rolls his eyes fondly, comforted by how well they know him. “Look, I—I know I’ve been…anxious about telling my Mum and Dad, but I do want to. I don’t want to have to hide that we’re dating you now, Sirius, especially since they know I’m dating Remus. I don’t want you left out.”

“And that’s very kind of you, darling, but I’ll be okay,” Sirius reassures him, stretching up onto his toes to press a kiss to his cheek. James blushes, in part at the pet name, in part at the kiss. He chalks it up to only having been together for a few days, how easily Sirius makes him flush. But it’s not exactly believable when Remus still makes him go red with the same ease, despite their nearly six months together.

“You tell them when you’re ready, James,” Remus says, his voice firm in a way that makes James swoon. “No sooner, and no later. Alright?” James nods, and Remus dips his head down to kiss him. “Now, we’re getting close to King’s Cross. I’d like to spend these last few minutes smothering my lovely boys with love if that’s alright with you?”

In the few days since introducing Sirius into their relationship, Remus has taken to this term of endearment for his boyfriends—my lovely boys. It makes both Sirius and James weak at the knees, and Remus loves it. Even if he hasn’t said so, the other two see the look in his eyes every time he says it, the way he revels in Sirius and James’ reaction.

“I suppose that would be alright,” Sirius sighs dramatically, saving James from the way his tongue ties in his flustered state.

Remus rolls his eyes, but places an arm firmly around each of them, pulling them in for their newly patented three-person hug, which just ends up being a Sirius sandwich most of the time, with how the smallest boy worms his way between the two taller ones. Sometimes, Sirius is turned toward Remus and other times toward James.

This time, Sirius is facing Remus, his back pressed tightly to James’ chest. He has his face buried in Remus’ chest, and James has his own face in Remus’ neck.

“Are you sure you can’t come for the full?” Sirius asks quietly. They’ve had this conversation several times in the last few days, with both Sirius and James being concerned about Remus’ first full moon alone since Moony discovered his mates. James, as he’s pointed out several times, is also quite concerned with how Remus will fare over the next week in the lead-up to the moon. Every time, Remus gives the same answer.

“No, I have to go home, at least for a week,” he says. “I have to see my Mum. But there are two more fulls this summer, and I’ll be with you two for both of them. It’s just one moon. I’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” James says, interrupting the protest he knows Sirius is about to give. Even though he’s worried, he also knows that the situation is harder for Remus than it is for him and Sirius. There’s no point in making it even harder.

He lifts his head to look at Remus and gives him a small smile before bending down to kiss Sirius on the head, who looks up wearing an adorable pout. James chuckles and leans down again, this time kissing him on the lips. And then he looks up and kisses Remus. And then Remus and Sirius kiss each other, and James is on cloud nine.

“I love you both so much,” he whispers, his vision blurred by tears. After all the time spent loving them and thinking he could never have them, this moment feels unreal. Like the bubble could burst at any moment, leaving him right back in that place of seemingly unrequited love that had left him completely miserable. But the bubble doesn’t pop, because this is real. It’s real, and James has everything he could ever want, right here in his arms.

Chapter Text

James decides to go looking for his parents after dinner the night he, Sirius, and Regulus return home. Despite his boyfriends’ assurances, he truly does want to share this part of his life with his parents. He tells them everything. And, okay, maybe his Mum had to drag the truth out of him about his feelings for Remus, but those feelings were all mixed in with his feelings for Sirius and, thus, extraordinarily complicated to explain. There was also the news he withheld about his lack of feelings for Lily, but, again, that was a complex time for him, emotionally, and he had truly just forgotten to mention it.

This, though, he needs to tell them. He hasn’t been able to rest since that morning and only grows more tense the longer he’s within the walls of his childhood home.

Sirius offers to go with him, and when James turns him down, he kisses him for good luck (“—not that you need it—“) and plops himself down onto James’ bed with a book as he waves him off. James takes a moment to just look at him—he’s beautiful, shirtless and relaxed, his curls pulled up into a bun—and reminds himself that, no matter how his parents take his news, he’d get to come back up here to Sirius and settle into bed next to him.

He finds his parents in the den, sitting next to each other on the couch in the den, his Mum swirling a glass of wine with her eyes shut, his Dad reading aloud to her from what looked to be a mystery novel. This is their usual post-dinner routine and has been for as long as he can remember. Before he went to Hogwarts, his parents would read children’s stories to him, and switch to what they called ‘grown-up books’ after he went to bed.

The sight of the familiar routine calms him, reminds him who he’s about to talk to. This isn’t Walburga and Orion Black, who pushed their own son down the stairs. This is Euphemia and Fleamont Potter, the people who read to him every night until he left for school, the ones who accepted his relationship with Remus without so much as a blink, the ones who housed his best friend and his brother when they were faced with an abusive home.

“James?” his Mum asks, breaking him out of his thoughts. His eyes snap up to hers, meeting her warm gaze. “Is everything okay? Are you overthinking again, love?”

“Maybe a bit,” James admits, fully stepping into the room, sitting in the armchair opposite them. “I, erm…I have to tell you something. And I don’t really know what you’re going to think, so I’m just, er, feeling a bit nervous, I guess.”

“James,” his Dad says. His tone is that of warning, but there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that James recognizes, a glint that means he’s about to say something that he thinks is hilarious, but that will just make James roll his eyes. “Did you get Remus pregnant?”

And there it is. James, of course, rolls his eyes, as does his Mum, while his Dad bursts out laughing. James can’t help the small grin that the man’s laughter brings to his face.

“How’d you guess?” he asks, keeping his voice as monotone as he can. “No, obviously no one’s pregnant. But…it is about…our relationship.”

“Oh no, love,” his Mum starts, and James immediately realizes how his anxious tone and vague words sound to someone who doesn’t know what’s going on.

“No!” he all but shouts. “We haven’t, like, broken up or anything. It’s…well, I’ll just come out and say it, I guess. We’re, er…we’re dating Sirius now, too.”

Just as he predicted, a quiet confusion passes over their faces, as if he had just insisted, with the utmost confidence, that one plus one equals three. Which, in a way, he kind of had.

“How…does that work, exactly?” his Dad asks with genuine curiosity.

James gives a brief sigh of relief. Curiosity is easy. He can work with curiosity. “Well, we’re all in love with each other. Which, I know, is unusual, to love two people. But we do. And we’re all dating each other. So, Remus is still my boyfriend, but now, so is Sirius. And they’re boyfriends as well.”

His parents share a look that he can’t read before turning to look back at him. “And this makes you all happy?” his Mum asks. James’ heart skips a beat, and he nods, feeling a sudden but complete inability to speak. And then his Mum stands and walks over to where he’s sitting and kneels in front of him. A small smile spreads across her lips, and all she says is, “Okay,” before she pulls him in for one of her amazing Mum hugs.

James doesn’t even know his Dad has moved until he’s sitting on the arm of the chair with a wide grin and a hand on his shoulder. But it’s not his son he’s smiling at. It’s his wife. “I want my money back, Effie.”

“I—what?” James splutters, the gears in his head turning. “Did you guys bet on me?”

His Mum laughs as he pulls out of the hug to look at her in disbelief. “Your father swore up and down that you were in love with Sirius,” she explains. “But then you told me you loved Remus, so I told him he lost. Turns out, we were both right.”

“I—you—unbelievable,” James hisses, with no real heat in his voice. He carries no real offense, of course. More than anything, he’s glad that his parents are, as Peter predicted, confused but accepting. “You bet on me? Your only son—”

“Oh, please,” his Dad laughs. “We’ve placed so many bets on you from the time you were born—”

“Before you were born,” his Mum corrects. “We bet whether he’d be a boy or a girl.”

James snorts. “Who won that one?”

“I did, of course,” his Mum answers with pride. “Maternal intuition and all.”

“Should’ve learned my lesson then and there not to bet with her,” his Dad teases, nothing but affection in his eyes when he looks at his wife. “James,” his face turns serious as he turns his attention back to his son. “You must know—we will love you and accept you no matter what. Even if we don’t completely understand your choices, all we ever want is for you to be happy.”

James starts to tear up, his chest warm and full following his parents’ acceptance, but before he can say anything, his Dad continues.

“Now, we weren’t going to talk to you about this until later this week, but since Sirius is here now—”

“Oh, Merlin,” James sighs, knowing exactly what’s coming. “Dad, you really don’t have to—”

“You’re all 17, therefore adults,” he cuts his son off. His Mum gets up from the floor and moves back to her spot on the couch, and his Dad follows her. “So, we can’t order you to sleep in separate rooms, or keep the door cracked—”

“Dad, please—”

“Make safe choices, and remember—”

“I know all this, Dad, I know—”

“Consent is key, James—”

“I’m leaving now!” James declares, standing from his chair and walking out of the room as quickly as his legs can take him.

Before his Dad can follow him, he’s back upstairs and in his bedroom, leaning against the door. He just knows his face is beet red, and the sight of Sirius on his bed, now also missing his trousers, doesn’t help matters.

The moment he enters, Sirius slams his book closed and rushes over to James. His hands come up to cradle his enflamed cheeks, and James’ hands automatically find his waist.

“How’d it go?” Sirius whispers, his silver eyes searching his face for some kind of answer. “You’re all flushed, it didn’t go poorly, did it?”

“No, no,” James says, smiling down at his boyfriend. “Went really well—until Dad tried giving me a sex talk—”

“Oh, Monty,” Sirius says with a fond laugh. “That explains the red cheeks, then.”

“Well, to be fair,” James says, his voice coming out lower than it had only moments before, “my very sexy boyfriend is walking around in his pants, so—”

“Oh,” Sirius laughs breathlessly, his cheeks turning pink at the compliment. “Yes, that will do it. I am quite dashing, aren’t I?” He steps in closer to James, pressing his bare chest against James’ clothed one, and slides his fingers from his cheeks into his messy hair.

James breathes in deep through his nose and wraps his arms tight around Sirius’ slim waist, pulling him in even closer. His brain goes completely scrambled, not able to sort out a single thought that isn’t Sirius, but he’s mostly used to that feeling by now. The feeling of being completely undone by the shorter boy, even when he’s hardly done anything.

“Merlin, Jamie,” Sirius breathes. James brings his head down until their foreheads are touching, and then Sirius brings his chin up just slightly—just enough for their lips to brush as he speaks, the contact sending electric shocks through James. “Want you so bad. Been so long.”

And it had. It’s been four months since he’s had Sirius and Godric, he wants him. Wants to lie beneath him and let him take, wants to be inside him, to feel him, to be one with him. He wants to make love to his boyfriend and experience the rush of feelings that comes from the intimacy of it all. But—

“We shouldn’t,” he sighs regretfully. “Not without Remus.”

“I know,” Sirius smiles and pushes himself onto his toes to press a quick kiss to James’ mouth. They had already agreed, while Remus was asleep the night before they came home on the Hogwarts Express, that their first time having sex should include all three of them. James is still in full support of that decision, but he desperately wishes Remus was here now. “Come to bed, Prongs,” Sirius whispers, his voice low and sultry in a way that does nothing to help the growing knot of desire in his gut.

Regardless, he follows his boyfriend to bed, peeling off his clothes along the way until he, like Sirius, is left in nothing but his pants. He crawls onto the bed and lies down in the middle, and Sirius climbs in next to him, on his side, propped up on his elbow so he’s hovering over James. He throws one leg over both of James’ and his free hand roams across James’ chest.

They haven’t even done anything, and James’ heart is already pounding. He can’t be blamed for that, though. Sirius is gorgeous above him, his dark hair hanging around his pale face, his silver eyes glimmering in the moonlight that filters through the curtains, the eyelashes that frame them thick and dark. His teeth are digging into the soft, pink flesh of his sinful lips, his lithe body pressed against James’ in the perfect position to let him feel his boyfriend’s half-hard prick against his side.

“You know,” Sirius says, smirking. His finger trails from James’ neck down to his nipple, rolling it between his fingers until it’s hard. James moans softly, feeling his cock harden in response to Sirius’ touch. “We agreed we’d wait for Remus before we touched each other, but…we didn’t say we couldn’t touch ourselves.” His hand moves across James’ chest to pinch his other nipple and James moans again, louder this time.

“Silencing spells,” James mutters, his last coherent thought before his brain goes completely under, before he completely succumbs to the pleasure of Sirius’ hand trailing down his abs.

“Already done, darling,” Sirius says proudly. And then he leans down and captures James’ lips, wasting no time licking at them, asking for entry. James gladly parts his lips, his tongue meeting Sirius’, his hand flying up to lace in his hair.

He still hasn’t quite gotten used to getting to kiss Sirius again. Not just that, but getting to pour his love and adoration for the other boy through kisses. It creates a tingling sizzle around them, between them. It feels more like magic than anything he’s done with his wand.

Sirius pulls away suddenly, sitting up to pull off his pants, and James kicks off his own in response. Sirius swings one leg over James, straddling his thighs, and gives him a wicked smile that makes his mouth go dry. James’ hands go immediately to his hips, his thumbs fitting perfectly into the divots made by the jutting bones.

“What’s he like?” Sirius asks, raking his fingernails softly down James’ stomach, drawing a low moan from him. “What’s he like in bed?”

“Moony?” James asks stupidly, all his usual charm and charisma and intelligence washed down the drain by the sight of the smaller boy sitting on top of him.

It draws a breathy laugh out of him, so James pushes away the embarrassment he caused himself in favor of appreciating the beautiful sound. “Yeah, Jamie,” Sirius says, a breathtaking smile still on his lips. “What would Moony be doing if he were here right now?”

“Oh, Merlin, Sirius,” James groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as Sirius jerks his hips, sliding himself against James. “Fuck—I can’t—how am I supposed to think when you look like that?”

“Oh?” Sirius asks, raising an eyebrow and trying and failing not to smirk. “And what do I look like, Prongs?”

James gasps, his grip on Sirius’ hips tightening. “Like a fucking angel,” he whispers.

It might just be the truest thing James has ever said. Sirius’ pale skin is glowing in the moonlight that shines through the curtains, contrasting the darkness of his midnight black curls, which hang just past his shoulders, framing his soft, angular face. His eyes are silver pools of liquid mercury, and the intense gaze of them on James’ body makes James feel as though he’s melting into the mattress—or maybe melting into Sirius. And then there’s his lips, pink and swollen and glistening from kissing James.

An angel.

The smirk stays firmly on Sirius’ face, but James sees the blush that rises to his cheeks. He runs his hands lightly up Sirius’ sides; relishes the way his soft skin breaks into goosebumps at his touch.

“High praise,” is Sirius’ response. His eyes flash with self-doubt, despite the proud look on the rest of his face.

“Moony would agree with me,” James retorts. “If he were here, if he saw you like this…he’d agree with me.”

“You think so?” Sirius asks, chewing the inside of his cheek.

James stares up at him in disbelief for a moment. He forgets sometimes how insecure Sirius can be. He puts on a persona of confidence and ego, and to James and Remus, he’s the most beautiful person on the planet. So really, it’s easy to forget. But Sirius is his boyfriend now, which means he gets to do what he always wants to do when faced with insecure Sirius.

He pushes himself up onto his elbows and reaches one hand up to grip the back of Sirius’ neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Sirius yelps in surprise, but quickly sinks into James, into his lips, into his kiss.

“You should hear the way he talks about you,” James whispers, his lips brushing Sirius’ as he speaks, his eyes staring into piercing silver. “How I talk about you. Merlin, Sirius, you’re perfect. Remus and I, before you started sleeping in bed with us, we used to stay up for hours, waxing poetic about how beautiful you are—not just on the outside. Although your outside is—admittedly—beyond gorgeous. So no, I don’t think Remus would agree with me—I know he would.”

“Oh,” Sirius whispers, his eyes wide in surprise. James chuckles and presses a kiss to both of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his forehead, and then finally his lips before he falls back onto the mattress. Sirius, not expecting him to fall, braces himself with his hands on James’ chest and readjusts so he can sit up again. The movement causes their cocks to brush, drawing a moan from both of them.

“You want to know what Remus would do if he were here?” James asks, and Sirius nods, rubbing himself against James again, this time with clear intent. James bites back a groan and focuses on the words coming out of his mouth, rather than the friction of Sirius against him. “He’d be touching you—everywhere. Your chest, your back, your pretty little bum.” Sirius blushes. “Merlin, you’re going to love his hands on you, Sirius, you never know whether his touch will be gentle or rough and its—fuck, it’s thrilling.”

Sirius whines, a noise that James isn’t often able to lure from the other boy. He knows Remus will be able to constantly. He finds that he isn’t jealous at all, knowing Remus will be able to bring out a side of Sirius that James never can. No, the prospect of that, of Remus turning Sirius into a whining, moaning mess just turns him on more.

“He likes to leave marks—especially right before the full, when Moony’s so close to the surface,” James continues. He lets his hand wander up to Sirius’ neck and presses his fingers over spots he knows Remus likes—his pulse point, behind his ear, his Adam’s apple. His hand drifts down, pressing gently against Sirius’ collar bone, his left pec right above his heart, the spot just below his belly button, the protruding bone of his hip. And then lower still, the crease of his leg, a spot on the inside of his thigh, the flesh of his arse. By the time he finishes, Sirius is panting, his eyes closed, and his head thrown back, his cock curved against his stomach and leaking. “You’re gonna look so pretty covered in his marks, Sirius, fuck—I can imagine it now.

“He leaves marks with his fingers, too,” James grips Sirius’ hips tightly, making him gasp. “Grabs a little bit too hard. He won’t do it the first time—he’ll be gentle and careful, but once he knows you can take it—”

“Moony!” Sirius moans, and then, “Jamie—please—”

“Touch yourself, love,” James instructs, and Sirius obeys, his hand moving to his prick, swiping at the head to gather his precum before he sets a brutal pace for himself, grinding his hips, fucking into his fist. James moans at the sight before reaching for his own cock, pulling to the same rhythm that Sirius set.

“Fuck—Padfoot—” James gasps. A familiar heat settles low in his stomach. He knows he won’t last long, not with the conjured image of Sirius covered in Remus’ marks flashing through his mind; not with the very real visual of Sirius sitting on top of him, touching himself to the thought of being claimed by their boyfriend. “Can’t wait to watch—oh fuck—to watch him fuck you, love. You’ll look so—so fucking pretty wrapped around his cock—”

With that, Sirius comes with a truly unholy whine, painting his fist and James below him white with his cum, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The blissed out look on his face is all James needs to go over the edge himself, his body shuddering and his cock pulsing in his hand as he spills across his own fingers.

Sirius collapses onto James’ chest, and for a moment all they can do is lie there like that, Sirius draped over James, James with one arm around his waist and the other—the clean one—in his hair. There’s a feeling sitting in his chest, one that makes his heart ache in the best way.

“I love you,” he whispers into thick curls, and a wave of relief crashes over him, washing out months—no, years—of stress he hadn’t even known were there. For the first time, he realizes just how long those three words have been true.

“I love you, too,” Sirius sighs happily, and James can feel him smile against his skin. “As much as I’d love to lay here forever, I do believe a shower is in order.”

“Sounds lovely,” James agrees, and then whines when Sirius peels himself off of his chest to stand. He grabs his wand and casts a quick vanishing charm to clear the mess they made. “Can I join you?”

Sirius turns to look at him, a teasing smirk pulling at his gorgeous lips. “Only if you can keep your hands to yourself.”

James licks his lips, eyes drifting down the pale expanse of his boyfriend’s body before he can stop himself. His imagination provides him with images of Sirius in the shower, naked, skin glistening and hair slicked back from the water. And although he knows Sirius is just teasing him, he can’t help but wonder if there’s a truth to his words—he’s not sure he can keep his hands to himself.

“That,” James swallows, his eyes finally finding Sirius’, “is just not fair to ask of me. Not when you look like that, love.”

It’s impossible to miss the blush, not only on his face, but across his chest. Much subtler is the way his face twitches, the slight show of a true smile before he schools his features, settling back into his infamous smirk.

“I suppose,” he drawls, “it’d be alright if you touch. As long as you don’t get me off. Not without Moony.”

“What if I get you to get yourself off again?” James asks, giving what he hopes is a look of innocence.

Sirius looks down, his weight shifting from one foot to the other, and James knows he’s broken through his façade.

“Shower, then?” James asks, pushing himself to stand. He takes the two steps over to where Sirius is standing and cups his cheeks in his palms, guiding the shorter boy to look up at him. “I’ve never known you to be bashful before, Padfoot.”

“Shut up,” he mutters, leaning forward to bury his face in James’ chest, likely to hide his darkening cheeks. James just chuckles and wraps his arms around him. A moment later, Sirius looks up at him with a pout that can only be described as adorable. “I wouldn’t be so bashful if you hadn’t made me fall in love with you.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” James teases.

This explanation seems to please Sirius greatly, as he smiles in response, pulling himself out of James’ arms. “Yes,” he answers firmly. “You’re precisely right. And thank you for your accountability, dear Prongs—”

“Deer Prongs,” James snorts, sending Sirius into a fit of laughter. Truly, James knows it wasn’t that funny, but Sirius gets such a kick out of Animagus- and name-based puns, that he can’t help but make them when the opportunity arises. Plus, it makes him smile to imagine the exasperated eye roll they would get from Remus if he were there with them. “Alright giggles,” he teases, leaning closer to kiss the tip of Sirius’ nose. “Let’s go have a shower, then.”

“”

What follows is one of the longest weeks of James and Sirius’ lives. It makes James incredibly glad that he told his parents about Sirius, because being away from Remus is already hard enough, and if he had to pretend to be just friends with Sirius when he was in the same room as him, he might actually implode.

Peter and Marlene come over most days, and they and Regulus fly around in the Potters’ backyard, or swim around the overly large swimming pool, stopping only for refreshing glasses of lemonade or a delicious meal made by Effie. Sometimes they just sit under the big oak tree in the front yard chatting, taking turns swinging from the swing that had been tied to its biggest branch since around the time James could walk.

Their two friends and Sirius’ brother very quickly get tired of James and Sirius moaning about missing their boyfriend, which only grows worse when, on their third day of break, a letter arrives from him.

The letter itself is pages of Remus gushing about how much he misses James and Sirius, with a few heated paragraphs about how difficult it is to manage his pre-full moon libido without his boyfriends—his mates—with him that has Sirius dragging James up to their bedroom before they can finish reading the rest of it.

Despite the complaints by their friends, Monty and Effie seem to find their pining sweet. Effie discloses one night, only two days before Remus shows up, that watching James and Sirius together and hearing them speak of Remus, she and Monty are beginning to understand their relationship better. James can’t stop smiling for hours after she says that.

Regardless of who’s around—friends or family—James and Sirius are constantly touching, whether holding hands or curling around each other or their heads resting in each other’s laps. Sirius loves to lay his head on James’ chest, and, late one night, he admits that the sound of his heartbeat soothes him. Meanwhile, James is obsessed with Sirius’ hair and with the frequency he plays with it, the week is enough time for him to become a competent braider. A simple plait becomes Sirius’ favorite way to wear his hair, but only if James is the one who put it there.

“”

Saturday afternoon finds James sitting on the floor of the parlor with his back against the sofa and Sirius between his legs, lying with his back against his chest. Sirius’ head rests on James’ shoulder, and James’ arms are wound tightly around Sirius’ waist. Both boys have their eyes firmly set on the empty fireplace, waiting impatiently for their boyfriend’s arrival.

Sirius groans when the clock chimes, announcing that it’s two o’clock. “He said he’d be here after lunch!” he complains, shifting his head so he can hide his face in James’ neck. “Prongsie, make him come!”

James chuckles, moving a hand up to run it through Sirius’ hair. “He’ll be here soon, love,” he murmurs, peppering kisses across his head and face. He places a finger beneath his chin and angles his head, so their eyes meet. Sirius pouts, and James can’t help the laugh that rises out of him. “Why don’t we do something to pass the time?”

That wipes the pout right off of Sirius’ face, replacing it with a sly smile. “What did you have in mind?”

Instead of answering, James leans down and captures the other boy’s lips with his own. They kiss slowly, Sirius’ hands gripped tightly in his messy hair, James with one hand cradling Sirius’ cheek and the other wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him close, close, close. Their lips move together intuitively, like they were made to kiss each other. Sirius parts his lips and James takes one between his teeth, nibbling gently before he slips his tongue into his mouth.

James is so focused on kissing Sirius, on the feel of his lips and his tongue and his hands, that he doesn’t notice the telltale whoosh of the Floo activating. Not until he hears that low, sweet voice that he’s been dreaming of all week.

“Got started without me, did you?”

Sirius jerks away from James with the biggest smile on his face and leaps to his feet with a shout of “MOONY!” before he bounds over to Remus and jumps into his arms, nearly knocking the taller boy over.

James follows suit, albeit with a more tender smile and less hurried movements. By the time he’s made his way over to his boyfriends, Sirius has Remus drawn into a messy kiss, his hands gripping firmly to tawny hair and Remus’ arms wrapped around Sirius’ waist. James doesn’t dare interrupt them, especially when one of Remus’ hand drifts down and grips Sirius’ butt, pulling his hips in closer, causing Sirius to moan unabashedly into his mouth. Basically, it’s the hottest thing James has ever seen.

It ends far too quickly for his liking, but his complaints are short lived when Remus releases Sirius to grab James by the waist and pull him in for a kiss just as hungry as the one he’d just been watching. James’ hands flail for a moment before finding purchase in Remus’ hair, just as Sirius had done. Remus kisses him like a man starved. He pulls James closer, closer, closer until not a molecule of space lies between them. He bites at James’ lip and curls his tongue against James’ in just the way that he knows drives him crazy. In return, he gives the hairs he has in his grip a gentle tug, eliciting a delicious moan that James swallows greedily.

When Remus finally breaks the kiss, he looks absolutely debauched, his hair in complete disarray, his lips swollen and glistening with spit—likely a combination of his own, James’, and Sirius’. The thought makes James weak at the knees.

Sirius wastes no time slipping into James and Remus’ embrace so that Remus has one arm around each of them, holding them both close to his chest. James leans down to press a gentle kiss to Sirius’ lips, but both of them are too preoccupied with Remus’ arrival to kiss with the same vivacity that their boyfriend had just kissed them with. Not that either of them minded. Heated snogs had taken up quite a bit of their alone time over the past week, so they certainly weren’t lacking.

“Missed you,” James whispers, pressing kisses across Remus’ jaw. On his other side, Sirius hums in agreement, kissing down his neck.

Remus’ breath catches in his throat. “Missed you, too,” he murmurs. “Both of you.”

James sighs contentedly, ceasing his kissing in favor of nuzzling into Remus’ neck. He breathes deeply, the scent of cardamom and pine and earth making his head spin.

“How was the full?” Sirius asks delicately. He and James both want to know—it’s not often that Remus has to go through it alone anymore, and they were hardly able to sleep the night that the full moon rose, too worried about their boyfriend to relax properly. “And don’t even think about lying,” Sirius adds, kind but firm, and Remus clicks his tongue in protest. “We’ll know if you do. We know you too well, Moony.”

“The moon itself was fine,” Remus conceded. “The transformation wasn’t any worse than usual, but I did get a new scratch on my leg.” James rubs circles into his back but doesn’t say anything. He knows he doesn’t like being fussed over. Taking care of Remus requires a level of subtlety that even Sirius has mastered after all these years. “After was good; you know Mum takes good care of me.” James kisses his shoulder.

“And before?” Sirius asks. He hadn’t seen what the week before the moon is like for Remus yet—not the way James has. But he knows that he gets clingy and horny and possessive and he’s dying to experience it for himself. Even if James didn’t already know that he would know it by Sirius’ voice when he asks about it—the slight whine gives him away.

“It was…” Remus starts, and James thinks he’s about to sugarcoat it, because Sirius looks up at him with a raised eyebrow and he groans, as if admitting defeat. “It sucked, okay? I already missed you both so much, and then with Moony missing you, too, it…it sucked.”

Sirius pushes up on his tiptoes and kisses Remus gently on the corner of his mouth. “You’ll never go through it alone again,” he whispers, and Remus bumps their foreheads together fondly. James can’t help but smile. “Not if Prongs and I have anything to say about it.”

“”

It takes them nearly half an hour to detach themselves enough to walk to the kitchen, where Effie is hard at work preparing a full Sunday roast, even though it’s a Thursday, because it’s Remus’ favorite. Which, really, just makes James love his Mum even more than he already does.

“Remus!” she gasps with a smile, setting down her knife to walk over and draw him into one of her famous hugs. “Oh, it’s so lovely to see you, darling, just like always. How have you been? How’s your parents?”

“Mum’s well,” Remus responds as Effie releases him to go back to chopping vegetables. Sirius is quick to reattach himself to the tall boy now that Effie is done hugging him. Remus wraps one arm around his shoulders, and James grabs his free hand to entwine their fingers, leaning his head on his shoulder. “Dad, too. Sober six months now. Longest he’s gone in years, but we’ll have to wait to see if it sticks. How are you and Monty?”

“That’s good,” Effie nods. “I’ll have to write to Hope; I haven’t heard from her in a while. Well, we’ve been quite alright here, we always are. Monty’s excited to see you, of course.” Monty has always been quite fond of Remus in a way he wasn’t with any of James’ other friends. He never said it outright, but the amount of money he’s invested in Damocles Belby’s potions experiments for a lycanthropy treatment over the years speaks for itself.

“I’m looking forward to seeing him as well,” Remus says politely. Sirius makes eye contact with James and rolls his eyes affectionately, a fond smile on his lips. James bites back a laugh. It’s so like Remus to be overly polite, nearly to the point of formality, to James’ parents, despite how casually they speak to him in return. James can’t help but find it adorable.

“Alright, you three, out of my kitchen,” Effie orders, making shooing motions at them with her hands. “Outside with you, it’s a beautiful day today, go enjoy it—go on, out, out!”

Laughing, the three boys make their way out of the kitchen and through the back door leading out to the Potter's back yard. Sirius all but drags the other two to the shade of the oak and urges Remus to sit, his back leaning against the trunk of the tree, before plopping himself down between the taller boy’s legs, his back against his chest. Remus chuckles, his arms immediately wrapping around his waist as Sirius makes grabby hands toward James.

“You are a cuddle monster,” James teases, settling down next to Remus, wasting no time leaning into his side when Remus wraps his arm around his shoulders. James wraps an arm around Sirius’ chest and kisses the top of his head.

“You love it,” Sirius accuses, and he’s right. James adores it. He wants nothing more than to tangle himself up with his lovers, unable to tell where each one begins and ends. With the press of Remus against his side and Sirius’ chest rising and falling peacefully under his arm, James thinks he could die happy, just like that.

Rather than admit it, James changes the subject. “Peter and Marlene will be by for dinner,” he says, lifting his hand to card his fingers through Sirius’ hair. “Mary said she’d be here, too, and she’ll try to convince Lily’s parents to let her come along.”

“Mm, that’d be nice,” Remus says. “I finally read Emma—she’s been begging me to read it for ages.”

Sirius snorts. “The book club will be back together at last.” The previous summer, Remus and Lily, along with Monty and Regulus, had entertained each other for hours on end talking about various interpretations of their favorite literature. Sirius spent a week teasing them for forming a book club when they should’ve been outside enjoying the summer sun. In defiance, they moved their discussions outside, accompanied by truly remarkable amounts of sunscreen and lemonade. After that, Sirius just started teasing them for being nerds.

“You told me that Moony made being a nerd sexy,” James says playfully, poking Sirius in the side to make him squirm, but instead, he turns to look at James, his jaw dropped in disbelief.

“I told you that in confidence!” he exclaims, making the other two laugh. “Maybe I should tell him some things you’ve said to me.”

James can’t stop the laugh that erupts from his chest. “Like what?” he asks, tracing a finger lightly across his jaw. He shudders, even in the overbearing heat. “How badly I want to watch him fuck you?” Sirius shivers again, lower lip jutting out in a pout. James drags his thumb across it. He can feel Remus watching them, feels his hand move up to his nape, his fingers lacing in his unruly curls, but he doesn’t dare take his eyes off of Sirius. “He already knows that love. How on earth do you think we entertained ourselves while we waited for you to come to your senses?”

Sirius’ breath hitches, and before either of them can say anything else, Remus tugs with both hands, one pulling James’ hair and the other pulling Sirius’, drawing both sets of eyes to him at last. His pupils are blown despite how bright it is outside, and James wonders distantly if Sirius can feel the beginnings of his erection pressed into his back from the way he’s lying on him.

“You two do know anyone could walk out that door at any moment, could see you two getting each other riled up, don’t you?” he asks. He conveniently ignores how worked up he clearly is by their teasing. Regardless, James and Sirius both nod, and Remus smiles. “Good. Now, behave.” He releases their hair, returning his hands to the innocent way they were wrapped around the other two just moments before, but the damage is already done. James is half-hard in his shorts and by the look of his flushed cheeks, so is Sirius.

“Sorry, love,” James says, stretching his neck to kiss Remus’ jaw. “He’s just so easy to get worked up.” Remus raises an eyebrow at him, as if to say, You’re one to talk, and James looks away blushing. He smirks—That’s what I thought.

“”

The three boys are left alone, cuddling underneath the shade of the oak for about an hour before Mary and Lily show up, quickly followed by Peter and Marlene, and Sirius suggests they all go for a swim before dinner.

James drags his boyfriends upstairs to his room to change into their swim trunks, and Remus makes them all face away from each other in an attempt to curb any wayward glances that would delay their arrival back downstairs. James and Sirius complain but they do it Remus’ way anyway. As much as they loathe to admit it, he probably has a point.

On their way back downstairs, they stop at Regulus’ door to invite him to go swimming. Despite his grumpy insistence on the first day of summer that he absolutely refuses to spend any time with Sirius and his boyfriends—who are far too ‘lovey-dovey’ according to him—until his own boyfriend arrives, he agrees. Secretly, James suspects he only does so because Remus mentions Lily is there, seeing as he’s quite fond of the Gryffindor girl—which he’d never admit, because she’s a Gryffindor—but Sirius is so pleased that he said yes that James doesn’t dare say anything.

As soon as they’re back outside, Sirius books it for the pool, cannonballing into the deep end with a jubilant shout. James laughs and follows, diving in behind him. When he comes up for air, Remus is sitting on the edge with his feet in the water, laughing at his boyfriends’ antics. It takes one look between James and Sirius before they both know they’re on the same page. They swim over to Remus, each grabbing one of his hands, and pull him into the pool before he has time to protest.

Peter shows up a moment later, followed by Marlene and then Regulus, and finally Mary and Lily, holding hands, both flushed and giggling. Sirius turns to glare at Remus, and James knows exactly what he’s thinking—If they can have sex, why can’t we? Remus rolls his eyes and dunks Sirius under the water.

Remus climbs out of the pool then and casts a drying spell on himself before settling down into a patio chair under the large umbrella next to Regulus. On his other side, Lily is lying in the lounge chair in the sunlight in her annual attempt to tan. A conversation sparks immediately between the three, and Sirius rolls his eyes in James’ direction.

“Oi!” he shouts to Remus, who looks back at him with an arched eyebrow. James swims over to where he’s leaning on the edge of the pool and wraps his arms around his waist, kissing his neck as if to emphasize the point he knows he’s about to make. “Your very sexy boyfriends are half naked and soaking wet, and you’re up there talking to my brother and James’ ex-crush about books?”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Padfoot,” Remus confirms, a hint of a smirk on his face. “Go play, now.”

Sirius goes pink and turns around in James’ arms, pulling him in for a rough kiss before James even knows it’s coming. However unexpected, it doesn’t stop James from pulling Sirius in closer, licking and biting and sucking in all the ways he knows drives Sirius crazy. He can’t help but wonder how Remus feels about their little show, so he opens his eyes, not stopping the movement of his lips against Sirius’, to see Remus staring at them, his jaw set and his eyes with desire. James only winks before closing his eyes again and doubling down on the passion with which he’s kissing Sirius.

They’re finally interrupted by Regulus’ shout of, “For the love of—get a fucking room, you bloody fucking wankers.”

With a laugh, James pushes himself off of Sirius, who raises his middle finger at his brother and goes back to swimming around with Peter, Mary, and Marlene. James takes one final look at Remus, smirking at the hungry glint in his eyes, before diving under the water to return to Sirius.

“”

James fully expects Sirius to take the spot between himself and Remus at dinner but instead, he maneuvers them so that Remus sits in the middle. He shoots the shorter boy a look, raising his eyebrow slightly. The three of them hadn’t been together for very long, but if there's one thing he knows about his new boyfriend it's that he always wants to be the center of attention—a fact he’s known since a week into knowing the other boy.

Sirius just winks at James and turns his attention to Peter, who is sitting to his right. James sees the way his hand slips onto Remus’ thigh and bites back a smirk. Of course, Sirius wants to play dirty. He should’ve guessed.

Well, two can play that game.

He can’t touch Remus with his hand—seeing as he needs it to eat—so instead he presses his knee against the other boy’s, shifting closer as subtly as he can so their legs touch from hip to foot. No one seems to notice but his boyfriends. Sirius gives him an approving look, shifting his hand an inch further up Remus’ leg and sliding in slightly so he’s grabbing the soft flesh of his inner thigh.

Remus refuses to look at either of them, engaged in a conversation with Regulus across the table, but James knows his tells well enough by now to know he’s far more affected than he lets on. His cheeks and ears are flushed pink, he’s breathing quickly despite all attempts to slow it down, and his free hand is clenching and unclenching under the table.

Biting back a smirk, James turns his attention to Marlene, who’s sitting to his right, and listens as she begins a conversation about Quidditch. He’s laughing at Marlene’s insistence that she can spy on the Slytherin team under the guise of watching her girlfriend Dorcas fly—he’s completely sure that her plan will absolutely fail, if for no other reason than the fact that Regulus, Slytherin’s seeker, is sitting right across from them, listening to her plot with an amused expression—when he feels a large hand grip his thigh tightly.

James risks a glance at his boyfriends and notices three things in quick succession. First, where Remus was a bit pink before, he’s beet red now, the beautiful color spreading across his face and down his neck. Second, he’s completely tense—his jaw clenched, his grip on his fork so tight his knuckles are white. He’s barely moving, not speaking to anyone except in short, clipped sentences that sound just as strained as the boy looks. And third, Sirius, who has not wavered from his conversation with Peter and now Mary and Lily, is palming Remus’ bulge. He gives nothing away, save for the light pink on his cheeks, talking smoothly and laughing boisterously, all with his hand on their boyfriend’s prick.

For a brief moment, James considers taking pity on the werewolf, considers reaching down to move Sirius’ hand off of him. This thought is quickly washed away by the desire to aid Sirius in driving him up the wall, too intrigued by the images floating through his mind of what Remus will do when they go to bed that night to do anything but join in the fun.

So, instead of helping him, he widens his eyes and furrows his brow in his best attempt at faux-worry, slides his fingers through Remus’ hair, and says, “Are you okay, love? You’re looking a bit flushed.”

Remus glares at him, almost like a warning, and shocks dance down his spine. James’ fake concern catches Sirius’ attention as well, and then they’re both doting on Remus, running fingers through his hair or down his arms or back, pressing kisses to his shoulders where they can reach.

“Fine,” Remus finally chokes out, for the sake of the others at the table who have turned to see what all the fuss is about. “Hot in here.”

“Oh, well, of course you’re warm, darling,” Effie huffs, pouring cold lemonade from the pitcher into his empty glass. “Walking around in sweaters in the summer heat—I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

“You’re absolutely right, Effie,” Remus says quickly, standing from his seat, taking advantage of the opportunity she’s just given him. “In fact, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go change into something cooler.”

As Remus slinks away, the rest of the table returns to their previous conversations. James looks over at Sirius, both holding back a smile, seeing as they’re supposed to be concerned about their boyfriend at the moment. The way Regulus looks between them, his features painted with disgust, tells them they’re not as subtle as they think they are, but Effie is still mumbling about how “I sure hope he’s not sick, the poor thing.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Effie,” Sirius says gently. “He has James and I here; he’ll be well taken care of.”

This elicits a variety of reactions from their friends—from snickers to rolled eyes to fake gagging—but Effie and Monty just seem touched by their caring. “It’s so good that you all have each other,” Effie says, and Monty nods in agreement. James nearly sighs in relief. He doesn’t particularly care if his friends see through his and Sirius’ game—though he knew they’d never live it down—but he doesn’t need his parents knowing Sirius was practically giving their boyfriend a handjob at the dinner table.

When Remus returns to the table a few minutes later, his face is no longer red, and his body is no longer tense, but if James were to look he’d see he’s still sporting an erection beneath his jeans. James never does look though, because his boyfriend has indeed changed out of his grandpa style sweater and into a snug T-shirt that hugs his shoulders and arms and chest in the best way.

He knows he’s staring, and he knows Sirius is staring, and it’s clear Remus knows too because a small smirk plays at his lips as he presses a kiss into Sirius’ hair, and then James’, before settling back down in his seat.

“You look like you’re feeling better,” Sirius observes, his hand drifting back to Remus’ thigh. His fingers don’t quite make contact before Remus catches his delicate wrist in his big hands, directing the wandering hand back to Sirius’ lap.

“Much better,” Remus says, his voice low enough that it makes James’ breath hitch but not so low as to gather attention. Sirius swallows thickly, his cheeks turning pink. Like James, Remus’ shift has made him quickly realize that their game is over. Or rather, it’s in Remus’ hands now.

“Good,” James says, smiling warmly at him. Remus looks up at him with a soft smile, his eyes so full of fondness that James’ heart skips a beat. And then his hand is on his knee, inching up slowly to rest on his inner thigh. His touch is light, but it makes James lightheaded anyway. He turns his attention back to his meal.

Things return to normal after that, except for Remus’ hand gripping his thigh. When he finishes eating, his right hand goes down to Sirius’ thigh, making the shorter boy jump in surprise. He smiles at Remus and then gulps when Remus’ fingers begin tracing up and down the inseam of his trousers, higher and higher with each stroke. James suddenly finds himself grateful that he hadn’t teased Remus to the same extent that Sirius had.

Once everyone is finished eating, James volunteers to clear the table, much to his mother’s pleasure. His friends offer to help, but he turns them down, hoping for a moment alone to clear his head. It doesn’t seem a likely feat—he can still feel his skin burning where Remus had been touching him, even through the fabric of his shorts, even after his hand is long gone.

James’ thoughts do drift while he’s cleaning up, not away from the touching and teasing and the silent promise of sex like he had hoped, but rather further into it. He reflects on what he said to Sirius a week prior, when they were fooling around; He leaves marks with his fingers, too. Grabs a little bit too hard. He won’t the first time—he’ll be gentle and careful, but once he knows you can take it—

James had been so sure Remus and Sirius’ first time together would be gentle and sweet—the same as James’ first time had been with each of them. He laughs under his breath at the thought. He should’ve known better. His first time having sex with either of them was the other’s first time having sex ever. Of course, it had been careful and slow. But Remus isn’t the same blushing virgin he had been a few months ago. He’s grown beautifully confident and even slightly dominant in sex. And Sirius is—well, he’s Sirius. He’s a tease and a brat and he prefers his pleasure with a side of pain. And now he’s spent all day egging Remus on. James was a fool to think their first time would be sweet.

By the time the kitchen is clean, James is half-hard and fully regrets being away from people long enough to let his thoughts drift like this. As he rejoins the group, his only thoughts are of Remus bending Sirius over the edge of the bed to work him open with his lovely fingers, Remus pushing Sirius onto his knees to push his cock past pretty pink lips, Remus spreading Sirius’ legs open to fuck him into the mattress.

The moment Remus sees James, he smirks. As if he can read his mind, see the obscene mental images that flash across his eyes. He’s sitting on the corner of the couch with an arm wrapped around Sirius, who’s tucked into his side and conversing with Lily and Mary. There’s no room on the couch for James, but Remus pats his leg in invitation, so James makes his way over and settles onto Remus’ lap, pulling his feet up to tuck his toes under his leg and hiding his face in his neck. Sirius doesn’t look at him, but he reaches out to grab his hand, lacing their fingers together, and that’s enough acknowledgement for James.

He isn’t sure how long they all sit in the parlor, but it feels like an eternity when all he wants is to turn in with his lovers, to watch them love each other.

It’s Monty and Effie who go to bed first to no one’s surprise. They’re early to bed/early to rise type people, but they assure all of the teenagers to stay as late as they like, or to sleep in one of the guest rooms if they prefer to stay—“We have plenty of space after all, with those three bunking together,” Monty teases, gesturing to his son and his boyfriends.

Regulus is off to bed next, citing exhaustion from being in the sun, but James knows that tomorrow Barty will be over to visit and suspects he wants to sleep away his time before getting to see his boyfriend.

Peter is next, choosing to go home rather than stay the night—“After the eyes those three have been making at each other all day, I do not want to sleep under the same roof as them.” Marlene shudders in agreement and leaves right behind him.

Mary and Lily choose to stay over, although Lily makes threats to the well-being of their testicles should she or Mary hear any funny business in the middle of the night.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Remus says once it’s just the three of them left awake. James twitches in his shorts, though he’s not sure if it’s in anticipation for what’s about to happen, or in response to the husky quality of his boyfriend’s voice, or because of the way Sirius whimpers at Remus’ words. Some combination of the three, James assumes.

Sirius and James hold hands as the follow Remus up the stairs and to their bedroom, turning together to face their boyfriend when the door clicks shut. For a moment, Remus stands with his back to them, first to cast silencing charms, and then to collect himself, his forehead pressed against the door. He takes a deep, shuddering breath before he turns to face them. He takes a step closer, one hand reaching up to lace in Sirius’ hair, the other in James’.

“Merlin, you two…” Remus groans, dropping his face onto James’ shoulder, his eyes clenched shut. Sirius giggles. The sound seems to bring Remus back down to Earth. He picks his head up and immediately pulls the shorter boy into a kiss. It isn’t what James expected. He expected heat and passion and hunger. Instead, it’s soft and languid and teasing. He watches, enchanted, as Remus nibbles at Sirius’ lip and sucks his tongue into his mouth.

James detaches himself from his boyfriends, pulling his fingers out of Sirius’ and dragging Remus’ hand out of his hair. They break briefly to look in his direction, but he smiles and murmurs, “Keep going,” and they do. Remus wraps his free arm around Sirius, pulling him flush against him, and Sirius’ arms go around his neck. James steps up behind Remus, his chest to the taller boy’s back, and slides his hands up under his T-shirt. His skin is warm—no, hot—and soft and littered with scars that James traces with light fingers.

He’s careful not to rush things along, regardless of how much he wants to, opting instead to press kisses across Remus’ clothed shoulders and listen to them kiss—the wet pass of tongues and lips, the hisses and moans and pants coming from both of their throats. Remus’ sounds are low and guttural, Sirius’ are high and whiny. Together they are a symphony, the most beautiful music James has ever heard.

Over Remus’ shoulder, James has a perfect view of Sirius’ neck—the flawless stretch of alabaster skin. He just has time to think how pretty he’ll look covered in hickeys when Remus diverts his lips away from Sirius’ and instead focuses on marking him. He kisses down the length of Sirius’ neck, stopping to bite and suck all his favorite spots. Sirius mewls. The sound goes straight to James’ cock.

“You make such pretty sounds, sweetheart,” Remus groans into the curve between his shoulder and his neck, his hips bucking forward into Sirius’.

“Doesn’t he just?” James asks. He slips one hand from its spot under Remus' shirt and reaches out to slide it under Sirius’ instead. His skin is smoother than Remus’—not scarred, not as hairy—and being able to feel them both, one with each hand, draws a moan out of him.

Remus chuckles, and James blushes, embarrassed. “Pads, I think we’ve been neglecting Jamie,” he whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of Sirius’ ear.

“I’m fine,” James says quickly, and he is. He’s perfectly content just to watch, to touch himself while they touch each other, to get himself off while he watches them fuck.

Regardless of his assurances, Remus steps back from Sirius and turns slightly so he can see James, too. He reaches a hand up—the hand that had just been in Sirius’ hair—and cups his jaw. His eyes drop to James’ lips and then drag back up to his eyes. He smirks. “I know you are, darling,” he drawls. Sirius steps in closer and nuzzles his face into James’ neck, pressing kisses across his skin. James shudders.

“I know how much you’ve dreamt of this,” Remus continues. He leans down and kisses James chastely. “I know how badly you want this. Did you know, Padfoot? Do you know how desperate Prongs here is to watch me fuck you?” Sirius nods. James can feel the motion on his neck. Remus’ fingers slide into Sirius’ hair and grip tightly, pulling his head back so his face is out of James’ neck and he’s looking up at Remus instead. Everything about him in that moment is sinful—the way he whines, the shine of his spit-slick lips, swollen and pink from kissing Remus, the way his eyes are glazed over, his pupils so large that the hoops of silver are hardly visible. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

James bites his lip in an attempt to hold back his moan. He’s unsuccessful.

“Yes,” Sirius whispers. “Yeah, I knew, Moony. I know. He told me. Told me how pretty I’d look on your cock.”

The look in Remus’ eyes then softens—not quite fond, but something close to it. He hums. “Jamie told you that, hmm? He’s right, you know.” Sirius attempts to divert his eyes, but Remus still has a tight grip on his hair, and he can’t move his head. He whimpers instead. “What else did James tell you?”

Before Sirius even says anything, James feels his cheeks warm up. He hides his face in Remus’ neck, his arms wrapped around his middle. The hand that was resting on his jaw moves to the back of his neck, holding him there.

“He said,” Sirius starts, his voice shaky. Despite all the times they’ve slept together, James has never heard Sirius sound quite like this. But then again, he’s never taken control like Remus is doing. Sirius is, at his very core, a loud and dominant personality. When it’s just been him and James, this has extended to the bedroom as well. That’s clearly not the situation when Remus is involved.

“He said,” Sirius says again, and takes a deep breath. “That you like to leave marks. With your teeth. And your fingers. He said,” this time, James can almost hear the smirk in his voice, though he keeps his face firmly tucked in Remus’ neck, letting out tiny little whimpers in response to his thumb rubbing circles into his skin. “That you’d be gentle our first time. I don’t think he considered how much I’d rile you up.”

Remus chuckles, and James feels his whole body flush. Despite the embarrassment he feels, or maybe because of it, his cock twitches. He tries not to think too hard about it.

“I think you may be right, love,” Remus says, his voice laced with amusement. “He told me things about you, too, Pads. Do you want to know?” James barely hears his ‘yes’. “He told me you like to be in control,” he chuckles again. “I should’ve known what he meant was that he likes for you to be in control.” James thinks if he blushes any more he might explode. His whole body feels almost numb. He suspects it’s to be expected with half his blood in his cheeks and the other half in his cock. “He also told me how well you use your mouth. How talented you are with your tongue. How pretty you look on your knees. Would you like to show me, baby?”

James looks up just in time to see Sirius’ eyes roll to the back of his head, his mouth wide as he moans his agreement. He thinks Sirius would drop to his knees right there and then if Remus wasn’t still holding his hair.

“Words, Sirius,” Remus orders. Sirius mutters another small “yes,” and Remus smiles. “Good boy,” he says, and Sirius keens. James whimpers pathetically and Remus laughs. “Don’t worry, Jamie. You’re being good, too.” The teasing and the praise in such short succession dance together in his chest before shooting down his spine. The heat pooling in his gut is getting more and more difficult to ignore and he’s so hard it hurts. His hips buck against his will, his erection grinding into Remus’ hip, and the brief relief of the friction tears a wanton moan from his throat.

“Fuck,” Sirius whispers, his eyes wide as he stares at James. It occurs to James that, like how he’s never seen this side of Sirius, Sirius has never seen this side of him either. These sides of them—whiny and desperate and submissive—that only Remus can draw out of them. He wonders if Sirius finds James as sexy as James finds him.

“Fuck,” Remus agrees. His hand finally releases Sirius’ hair and settles on James’ waist instead. His lips move down James’ neck, kissing and biting. His eyes close, his head falls back, and then there’s hands on his hips and a second pair of lips tracing down the other side of his neck. He moans and grinds forwards, pressing his hips against Remus’ feeling the line of his erection pressed into his own. And then he grinds backwards and feels Sirius’ against his arse. They’re both so close, chests pressed against him, as he grinds back and forth against each of them in turn. Their mouths don’t stop moving, and he knows his neck will be a mess of blue and purple in the morning, but he doesn’t care because it feels so good.

Remus’ hand moves down from his neck to unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders, and his lips continue their descent, landing on his collarbones. From behind him, Sirius’ hands slide up his chest until he can reach his nipples, twisting them both harshly between his fingers in the way he knows James loves. Remus moves lower still, pulling Sirius’ hand off of his right nipple so he can take it in his mouth, sucking and licking until James is a moaning mess, arching his chest into the other boy’s mouth.

Sirius’ now free hand slides into James’ hair and tugs, the other hand still pinching his nipple, and then Remus’ thigh is between his legs, his hands on his hips to guide him as he grinds against the hard muscle. James’ is panting and whining and making Merlin knows what other noises, and he’s close, he’s so close and all it takes is Remus’ teeth against his nipple before his orgasm washes over him, his cock pulsing and his head spinning as he releases into his shorts like a bloody third year.

James squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head against Remus’ shoulder as he comes down from the high of his orgasm, focusing on the way his boyfriends are touching him, they way they’re talking to him, soothing him. Remus moves his leg, which is a relief for James’ now sensitive prick, and holds the back of his neck, pressing kisses in his hair. Sirius pushes his shorts off of him, saving him from the sticky feel of his drying cum, before his hands move up to rest on his sides, his thumbs rubbing circles into his skin.

“Such a good boy, Jamie,” Remus whispers. His voice sets something alight in James’ chest. “Did so well for us, baby. Are you ready to watch now?” James mumbles his affirmation into his shoulder. “Hmm, good. Sirius has been so patient, hasn’t he?” James hums. “He has been. He made it so good for you, didn’t he, love?” James hums again. It’s all he seems capable of at the moment. “I think he deserves a treat, don’t you? Can you be a good boy and help him undress, darling?”

Again, James hums, this time with a nod, and lifts his head to look at Remus, who smiles affectionately down at him. James can’t help but smile back, even as Remus leans in and captures his lips with his own. When they separate, James turns around to see Sirius, with lust filled eyes, giving him the same endeared smile that Remus had given him. James returns it, leaning down to kiss Sirius slowly. His fingers travel down Sirius’ chest to the hem of the T-shirt he’s wearing, and they break the kiss so James can pull it over his head.

When his shirt is gone, Sirius reaches to kiss him again, but James swerves around him to nibble at his ear instead, sucking lightly on the lobe as he reaches down to unbutton his jeans. He wastes no time in pushing them down his hips and over the curve of his arse along with his underwear. He pushes them down his thighs, all the way down to his ankles, squatting to help him step out of the abominably tight fabric. When he stands again, he draws Sirius in for another kiss, pressing his naked body flush against Sirius’, his cock jumping in interest even though he came not ten minutes ago.

“I wish you could see yourselves,” Remus says, coming up to stand behind Sirius, his hands on his narrow hips. “So beautiful, so fucking gorgeous together.” He reaches a hand into James’ hair and pulls his head up and away from Sirius, separating their kiss. It’s only then that James notices he’s pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans. “Can you go sit in the armchair for me love?” he asks James, though he knows it’s not so much a question as it is an order. “I think Sirius deserves his treat now. And you—well, you did say you wanted to watch, hmm?”

James moans and nods before scampering over to the armchair. He watches as Remus turns Sirius around, his hands wrapped tightly around his waist. His own hand is halfway to his thickening cock when Remus shoots him a sharp look that makes him wilt. “Don’t touch yourself,” Remus demands, although the look on his face alone is enough to communicate that. “You’ve already come once, love, and Sirius hasn’t come at all. Don’t be greedy. You’ll come again later, I promise. For now, no touching. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Moony,” he says. “No touching.”

Remus smiles at him, and it makes the effort of not touching himself worth it. “Good boy. Just watch now, okay?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he turns his attention back to Sirius. “You were so good, baby, helping me get Jamie off. So patient, love. I’ll give you whatever you want, sweetheart.”

James knows what Sirius is going to say before he even says it. “I wanna suck your cock, Moony,” he whispers. Remus’ breath catches, but James isn’t surprised in the slightest. He also isn’t surprised when Sirius drops to his knees before Remus can even answer, hurriedly pulling his jeans and underwear down in one swift motion. And he isn’t shocked at all to see Sirius’ eyes widen, to hear him whine at the sight of Remus’ cock. It’s the first time he’s seeing it, and James has told him it’s big, but hearing about it and seeing it are two different things.

Remus, who seems to have finally regained his bearing, chuckles at the look on Sirius’ face and grabs his chin, directing his gaze up to his face. “Let’s see if your mouth his as good as James says it is, love,” he says, his voice dark and deep. James shivers. Remus releases Sirius’ jaw, and he immediately gets to work, wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, the other hand settling on the back of Remus’ thigh.

He licks a stripe up the underside of Remus’ erection, then another, and another, before licking slowly over the head, dragging his tongue across the slit. He moans loudly at the taste of him, a taste James knows well—tangy and salty and earthy and so Remus. Sirius doesn’t cease his ministrations, pressing wet kisses up the length of his shaft and then tonguing at the slit before he moves back down to the base to start again.

Above him, Remus is moaning, watching intently as Sirius teases him, a hand gripping inky black curls like it’s the only thing keeping him afloat. And, based on James’ experience of Sirius’ blowjobs, it probably is. Finally, Sirius wraps his lips around the head and James can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but based on the way Remus throws his head back in ecstasy, he’s doing something completely magical with his tongue while his hand strokes the rest of him.

Remus bucks his hips into Sirius’ mouth—whether on accident or purpose, James couldn’t say, but either way, Sirius gets the hint and begins bobbing on his cock, his cheeks hollowed, taking more and more in his mouth with each pass. Remus’ other hand is in his hair now, guiding his movements onto and off of his prick. James’ cock is fully hard now and aching, just from watching his boyfriends together, and it’s a battle with his weakening will-power to keep from jerking himself in time with Sirius’ motions.

It doesn’t take long before Sirius is taking all of Remus down his throat, his nose pressed tightly, held against the brown curls at the base of Remus’ cock. James can’t tell if it’s Remus holding him or if Sirius is keeping himself there, but tears are pricking at the corner of his eyes and his face is going red from lack of oxygen.

When Remus pulls him off, he’s panting and whining, and Remus looks a moment away from losing all his composure. “Bed,” he orders. “On your back. Legs spread.” The moment he releases his grip on Sirius' hair, the smaller boy is on his feet, climbing onto the mattress to collapse in the center.

Rather than make his way straight to Sirius, Remus walks over to where James is sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room and braces himself with his hands on the arms, leaning over James and sweeping him into a kiss. James whimpers. “Enjoying the show?” Remus teases when he pulls away, eyeing James’ erection. “Is it everything you wished for?”

“Yes, Moony,” James whines. “’S so hot.”

“Good,” he responds with a soft smile. James’ heart flutters. “You were right, you know. Sirius’ mouth is exquisite. We’re so lucky to have him, aren’t we, darling?”

Everything in James wants to turn his head, to look at where Sirius is lying in bed, waiting for Remus to come fuck him, but something in the way Remus looks at him makes him think he’s not supposed to. So, he fights the urge and maintains eye contact with the boy in front of him. “Yes,” he answers. “So lucky.”

“Would you like to come to bed with us?” Remus asks, and this time it’s not an order. It’s a genuine question. What does James want? To sit aside and watch only, or to be closer, to be able to touch? He takes a moment to think, even though the answer is obvious.

“Yes please,” James says. Remus stands up straight and holds out a hand—an invitation. James takes it and lets the taller boy pull him to stand and then guide him across the room. Delicately, he slips the glasses off of James’ face, folds them, and sets them down on the night stand before he turns to Sirius.

“Sit up for me, Pads,” Remus says, and Sirius obliges. Remus then helps James onto the bed, directing him to sit up against the mountain of pillows by the headboard with his legs on either side of Sirius. And then he has Sirius lie back down, his back against James’ chest, before he pushes Sirius’ legs open and crawls between them.

It’s intimate, James thinks, to be able to hold Sirius like this while Remus fucks him. His arms find their way around Sirius’ waist, his face in his hair. He smells like spring. Remus leans down to kiss Sirius, and for a moment James can smell him, too. He smells like fall. Before he can stop it, tears well up in his eyes. He’s not sure he would’ve stopped it if he could’ve, though.

“Hey,” Remus whispers, running his fingers through James’ hair. Sirius turns his head to nuzzle against his jaw. “What’s going on, love?”

James smiles, tries to blink away the tears. They fall instead. Remus wipes them away with his thumb. “Just happy,” James answers. “Just love you both so much. I never—I never thought we could have this.”

Remus smiles gently. “You’re such a sap, Jamie,” he teases, but there’s no heat behind it. “I love you, too, darling. Both of you. And I never thought we could have this either, but look—look at where we are. This is real. The three of us, together. This is real.”

“Oh, you two,” Sirius cries softly. “I’m sorry it took me so long—”

“Don’t, love,” Remus interrupts. “Don’t apologize. We’re together now. That’s all that matters.”

Sirius nods and wipes a tear from his cheek that James hadn’t realized spilled. “I love you both, so much. So fucking much I feel like I could burst.” Remus leans down to kiss him, and James holds him just a bit tighter. “Speaking of bursting,” he says when Remus pulls back. “This was a lovely moment but I’m so fucking hard—can we please get back to it.”

James bursts into laughter and swipes a stray tear off of his cheek, and Remus rolls his eyes, a look that can only be described as fond exasperation on his face. “Yeah, alright,” James says, looking at Remus. “You heard the man. On with the show.”

“Ridiculous,” Remus teases, but he presses his face into Sirius’ neck and begins a trail of kisses and bites. It doesn’t take long for Sirius to become a mess of moans and pants, writhing beneath Remus’ hands and mouth. He moves along his collarbone, down his chest and abdomen, across his hips and over his thighs, stopping every few kisses to leave bite marks and hickeys. James watches with fascination as the bruises bloom on Sirius’ pale skin, traces over the marks as Remus leaves them.

Just as he predicted, James is obsessed with the way Sirius looks covered in Remus’ marks. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on than he is now, watching Remus claim him. His favorites are easily the ones on the insides of Sirius’ thighs, the only spot on him with any fat. James wants, desperately, to bury his face in the soft meat there and lick over the wounds that Remus has left. Instead, he buries his face in Sirius’ neck and mouths at the marks there, watching as Remus casts a cleaning charm and a lubrication charm.

He can’t see from the angle he’s sitting at, but he knows the moment Remus’ finger has breached Sirius from the way he throws his head back against James’ shoulder and moans obscenely. He’s all whines and whimpers, writhing in a way that feels delicious against James’ cock, until Remus adds a second finger. His fingers dig into James’ thighs, and he screams, “Moony!”

“Fuck, Pads,” Remus groans, dropping his head against Sirius’ shoulder. “You have no idea how good you feel wrapped around my fingers, baby.” Sirius moans again, and James moves his hand, one grabbing his hair and the other placed over his throat. He doesn’t squeeze, but just having it there makes both Sirius and Remus moan. “Fuck, I wanna fuck you so bad, Pads.”

“Do it, Moony, please,” Sirius cries, grinding his hips down, fucking himself on Remus’ fingers. “Please, Moons, I’m ready!”

“Not yet, love,” Remus says, his voice thick, nearly a growl. “One more—can you take one more for me, darling?”

Sirius doesn’t answer—or rather, his answer is made up of indecipherable babbles—but Remus must add a third finger because Sirius keens, his back arching. His moans are nonstop now, loud groans and high-pitched whimpers and whiney pleading that leaves James moaning in response.

“That’s it, love,” Remus whispers, so quiet that James almost doesn’t hear him. He’s pressing kisses into the skin below Sirius’ bellybutton while he works him open, and Sirius has reached for his cock three times since they started, only to have his hand batted away each time—the first two by Remus and the third by James, who noticed it before Remus could. “Almost ready, sweetheart. You’re doing so well, baby. My good boy.” As soon as he says it, his eyes flicker up to meet James and he smiles sweetly. “Our good boy,” he corrects.

Sirius and James moan in tandem, and James uses the hand in his hair to guide him into a kiss—or rather, what would’ve been a kiss if either of them had any mental capacity left for the coordination it requires to do so. Instead, it’s faces pressed together, jaws lax, panting hungrily into each other’s mouths.

James isn’t exactly sure what happens next, but a moment later Sirius cries out, his head dropping heavily on James’ shoulder, and there’s a smirk on Remus’ lips and a hungry glint in his eyes and Sirius is—“Please, please, Moony I need you, I need you Moons, fuck me please!”

He lets out a pathetic whimper when Remus withdraws his fingers, but then his eyes are wide open, staring into Remus’, and slowly, achingly slowly, Remus is pushing into Sirius, whose silver eyes roll and mouth gapes, and in one thrust he bottoms out, hands gripped on narrow hips, unmoving.

It’s the most beautiful thing James has ever seen. The two people he loves, connected most intimately, faces full of bliss as they pleasure each other. He feels incredibly lucky, in that moment, to be a part of it. To be able to watch, to touch, as his boyfriends care for each other.

Remus leans down, nuzzles Sirius’ neck. James knows, from experience, that he’s smelling him. He mostly does it close to the full moon, but also when he gets emotional. And, well, the full is still weeks away.

Sirius’ hands lace through Remus’ hair, holding him close. James lets his own hands wander, one drifting to stroke Sirius’ cheek, the other on Remus’ neck.

None of them move from the way they’re wound up around each other as Remus pulls out an inch and thrusts into Sirius, drawing a satisfied sigh from him. He grinds his hips slowly, and then Remus thrusts again, pulling out further, and again and again, until he’s worked up to a rhythm, fucking into Sirius languidly. His hands have an iron grip on Sirius’ hips, his nose is still in his neck, and Sirius is whining desperately.

James is obscenely hard, letting out moans of his own as each thrust pushes Sirius against him, the layer of sweat acting as a lubricant as his back rubs against his cock.

His arousal only heightens when Remus starts talking, always incredible at saying the filthiest things in the sweetest way. “You feel so good, Pads,” he groans, nipping at Sirius’ ear. James sighs in agreement, nuzzling his nose against Sirius’ temple. He knows from experience how incredible it feels to be wrapped up in Sirius’ tight heat, his hole clenching tantalizingly on his cock, drawing him deep into his heat. “So tight for me,” Remus continues, and James whines louder than Sirius, bucking his hips against Sirius’ back in rhythm with Remus’ thrusts.

“Moony, please,” Sirius gasps, back arching. James lets his hands slip down to twist his nipples, drawing a series of wanton moans from the boy between his legs. “Fuck—fuck, Jamie—Moony! Harder, please harder, I—”

Remus sits back on his heels, the muscles in his forearms tense as he tightens his grip on Sirius’ hips, and increases his pace, thrusting into Sirius with a newfound fervor. The new angle must have him slamming against Sirius’ prostate, because he goes from whines and moans to cries and pleads, his muscles tensing under the onslaught.

James knows he’s getting close and teases with a sharp pinch to his pretty pink nipples. He kisses a path down the side of his face, stopping to nibble at his jaw, and then below his ear, leaving a smattering of his own marks amongst Remus’.

“Touch him, Jamie,” Remus instructs, his voice so low and rough that it’s almost a growl. The sound makes his cock twitch, and he thinks it’s a miracle that he doesn’t come right there and then.

He leaves his left hand to tease at Sirius’ nipples and guides his right hand down the muscular plane of his stomach, wrapping his fingers loosely around the base of his pretty red cock. He takes his time to tease him, despite his impatience, his fingers trailing to Sirius’ balls to give them a light tug before wrapping back around his length. He strokes gently a few times, just a trace of a touch, Sirius bucking his hips up into James’ hands as if begging for more.

“Such a tease,” Remus chuckles, but doesn’t tell James to stop, and Sirius is close now—so damn close—and James knows from extensive experience that he can come without the touch, so he stays teasing, light and slow, barely there, as he plants his feet into the mattress and thrusts against his back.

It only takes two more thrusts from Remus before Sirius is cries out, his head thrown back, his body tense, painting his chest white with cum. Remus moans, whether at the beautiful sight of their boyfriend coming undone below him or the fluttering of Sirius’ hole against his cock, James can’t be sure, but the sound goes straight to his erection. He ruts against Sirius one, two, three more times and then pleasure floods his body, from his chest down to the curling tips of his toes. His arms tighten around a still panting Sirius as his orgasm racks through him, and it’s just as he finishes that Remus halts his motions, buried deep inside Sirius, his eyes rolled back, and his lip pressed tight between his teeth.

Remus collapses against Sirius, face buried in his neck, and James adjusts his grip to hold both of them—his boyfriends held tightly in his arms.

A moment later, Sirius shifts, and Remus mutters a quick ‘sorry’ before slipping out of him and rolling out of James’ arms to lay on his back next to them. There’s a blissed-out smile on his face, one that shows on Sirius as well. James suspects he looks about the same. He reaches a hand out to run through Remus’ hair, pushing the sweat soaked strands off of his forehead.

“That was insane,” James whispers into the silence, and Sirius bursts into gleeful laughter. “What?” James gasps defensively, leading Remus to laugh as well. “It was!”

“Everything you hoped for?” Remus teases, poking him in the side.

“Everything you dreamed of?” Sirius adds through giggles.

James clicks his tongue in faux annoyance. It can’t be convincing—he’s still smiling widely, after all. “Like you two haven’t been dreaming of it, too.”

Sirius bites his lip, which does nothing to hide his grin, and looks over at Remus with his head on James’ chest and hearts in his eyes. Remus matches his expression, and James’ heart thuds against his chest. “Of course I have been,” Sirius sighs, leaning down to kiss Remus chastely. “And it was perfect.”

“Perfect,” Remus agrees, brushing a dangling curl behind Sirius’ ear.

James presses a kiss to each of their heads, before adjusting the boy in his arms to lie in Remus’ instead. He climbs out of bed and grabs his wand to cast as thorough of cleaning charms as he can manage with his head still fuzzy.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Sirius groans from his spot on Remus’ chest, causing the werewolf to laugh.

“Thank James, you mean,” he teases, and Sirius snorts.

James just rolls his eyes and crawls back into bed, wrapping himself around Sirius from behind so that he’s pressed between himself and Remus—exactly where he should be—and pulls the duvet over the three of them.

“Love you,” Sirius mumbles, already halfway asleep from the warmth and the contact, just like James expected he’d be.

He doesn’t say it, but James and Remus both know that the comment is for both of them. They make eye contact over his head and share a knowing smile. “Love you, too,” James whispers.

“Love you, too,” Remus echoes. The green of his eyes, glowing brightly in the moonlight, is the last thing James sees before he slips into the darkness of sleep, happier than he can remember being in a long, long time.

14 Months Later

“Jamie!!” Sirius shouts, barreling through the front door of the flat. James has just enough time to brace himself before his boyfriend launches himself onto his back with his legs tight around his waist. Instinctively, James reaches for his thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh below the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Merlin, Pads—” James exclaims, his knees nearly giving out from the added weight. “Nearly knocked me to the ground, you git!”

“But I didn’t!” Sirius cackles in his ear.

Another laugh sounds, and James turns around to see Remus leaning against the door frame, grocery bags in his hands hanging by his sides. Despite his exasperation, James smiles at his boyfriend, looking so at home here in their new flat.

It’s been just over two months since they’ve graduated Hogwarts and two weeks since they’ve moved into their brand new flat, right at the center of Muggle London. Being in the Muggle world has been a huge learning curve for James and Sirius, who had only ever ventured out of Wizarding society for a few hours at a time in the past, but they have an excellent guide in Remus. Sirius reckons it helps that he’s so good looking, too.

James pats Sirius gently on the thigh, and the boy slides down, bounding back to the door with James on his heels to help Remus carry in the groceries.

“You have to come to the grocery store next time, Prongsie,” Sirius gushes, and James’ curiosity is officially piqued as he listens to the shorter man go on and on about the rows of packaged food and the bright lights and the giant refrigerators—much bigger than the one in their kitchen.

Their first grocery run had been done by Remus while the other two stayed home and unpacked. Sirius’ trip this time was one of the first that either he or James had gone into the Muggle world—aside from when Sirius had gone for his tattoos.

He has six tattoos now. His first two were the previous summer, followed by one over the Christmas and Easter holidays each, and two since they’d graduated. His most recent, which he got right after they moved into the flat, was the words “Moony” and “Prongs,” one tattooed on the inside of his left thigh, the other in the same spot on his right. Needless to say, James and Remus like that one very, very much.

Remus gives Sirius a look somewhere between amusement and fondness as he skirts around him to start chopping vegetables for the night’s dinner. It’s a big night for them—the first dinner party in their new place. All of their friends would be there, a sort of ‘last hurrah’ before they all start their ‘grownup jobs’ come September. Or at least, that’s how Sirius likes to phrase it.

Remus rolls his eyes when Sirius phrases it that way, likely because he’s already started working. Getting his first paycheck was a stipulation of his before the three of them moved in together. Of course, James—with his trust fund—and Sirius—with the money he had inherited from his Uncle Alphard following the man’s passing in February—could easily afford to buy them a flat and take care of not just Remus, but all three of them. But Remus was too proud, too Gryffindor, to accept that, and wanted to be sure he could contribute to living expenses before they bought the flat.

And so, a few weeks after graduation, Remus had started working at Flourish and Blott’s, whose owners were known to be allies to those with lycanthropy. Working in a bookshop wasn’t Remus’ ideal career, but he loves books, and few other places would be likely to keep him on if (and when, Remus would say) his lycanthropy was revealed. James and Sirius were a bit concerned, at first, that he wasn’t going for a career that would bring him joy, but Remus quickly shut them down with reminders that coming home to them every day would bring him enough happiness, regardless of the job he was coming home from, and that he really wasn’t upset by the prospect of working in the bookshop.

Sirius, despite his never-ending jokes of being a trophy husband, had applied to and been granted admittance to the Auror training program, with a fierce determination to see his parents thrown in Azkaban on the grounds of all the Dark Artifacts in their home. James and Remus reckon he’s wanted to see his parents imprisoned since the day they pushed Regulus down the stairs two years prior.

James, unlike the career paths his boyfriends were set on, was going back to school. He had been accepted to Burton’s Academy for Healing Magic, a three-year academic program that he would undertake before another two years of apprenticeship before he could finally enter the workforce as a Junior Healer.

Their friends had all made similar achievements—Peter had already started his job as an undersecretary to the Minister, Marlene had been signed on as a reserve Chaser by the Falmouth Falcons, her girlfriend Dorcas and Lily would be joining James in the Healing Magic program at Burton’s, and Mary would be working alongside Sirius in the Auror department.

For once, Regulus and his friends aren’t invited, since they have another year left of school. Tonight’s dinner is just for the eight graduates, to celebrate their accomplishments and to, as Sirius says, drink away their teenage years (Remus keeps reminding Sirius that they’re, technically, still teenagers, but Sirius won’t hear a word of it.)

The three men work exceedingly well together in cooking—something that didn’t surprise them when they found out over the Christmas holidays the year before, since they work exceedingly well together in everything else. Sirius had never cooked growing up, unlike James and Remus who learned from their mothers, but since moving in with the Potters the summer after fifth year, Sirius had learned a lot from Effie.

For nearly an hour, the three dance around each other in the kitchen, preparing the roast chicken and vegetables in relative silence, the only sound coming from the David Bowie album that Remus put on the record player and the three men humming or singing along intermittently. When they finish and the kitchen is clean, they collapse together on the sofa, James in the center with Remus’ arm wrapped around his shoulders, holding him against his side, and Sirius curled up against his chest, half in his lap.

He knows they should get up and get ready—their friends will be there soon, after all, and he still needs a shower before they arrive—but for a moment, he’s content to let himself savor the moment, to lie on the couch with the loves of his life, to reflect on their shared history and look forward to their future. It occurs to him that this—a home and a career and coming home to these two men every day—is how he’ll get to spend the rest of his life. He doesn’t know exactly what the future holds, and the older he gets, the harder it gets to sort these things neatly inside a box in his mind, the way he always has. But if falling in love with two of his best friends has taught him anything, it’s that sometimes, it’s okay to leave things unsorted.

And sometimes, maybe it’s better.