The Way We Used To Be
Title: The Way We Used To Be
Author: Xernes
Pairing: James Potter/Sirius Black
Summary: Sirius refuses to talk to James after he tells him that he is moving in with Lily instead of with Sirius. James is tired of the cold shoulder and decides to go and see Sirius to sort out all of the animosity.
Warnings: Slash, graphic content, rimming, public sex, language, top!James, bottom!Sirius, oh me oh my!
Disclaimer: Anything involving the world of Harry Potter or it's characters belongs only to JK Rowling, her publishers, and Warner Bros. This story has been written purely for entertainment and is read by those who understand its content. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Hey everyone! Well, I think the last time I updated something was well over a year ago. Heck, maybe it was two. I have been through a lot these past two years, and not only had the time to write fanfiction, but I did not have the desire. Well, now I have both, and I have tons of unfinished pieces. I wrote most of this over two years ago, except for the ending (I hardly ever write endings. I hate them grr)! Anyway, hopefully I will publish more things, and that I still have some readers that I can share my work with. =)
Anyway, I really love when James and Sirius are friends and they are all lovey-dovey, but I think that I love when James and Sirius have conflict and tension and mild hatred towards each other even more. It's always so dramatic! If you like the first situation more than the second, then this fanfiction might not be the one for you.
Enjoy!
He did not like living in his apartment. He was not used to the creaks of the floor panels as he walked from room to room. He was not used to the eerie silence that plagued him at all hours, especially when the sky outside was painted death black and sprinkled with ominous, twinkling stars. He was not used to the apartment's several ghosts; the building was aging and had quiet a history, one that did not welcome him with open arms in the slightest. He felt awkward and uneasy as he sat in his living space, as he cooked horrible food in the kitchen, and as he attempted to sleep on his uncomfortable bed. However, the one thing that he hated the most about his apartment was that he was living there by himself.
While Sirius Black thought of himself as a rather private person, he did not like being alone. He was not used to it; even when he was living at home, he always had his mother to yell at him, and he always had his brother to rat him out when he even toed the line that he was taught to walk with perfection.
He did not know what to do with himself in his apartment. He sat through the day doing nothing but staring at his blank walls as he twiddled his fingers, and during the night he wrapped his thin blankets tightly around his lithe body and curled into a ball. He always kept the light on during the night; it had been a new fear of his. On good days he got out to get some fresh air and felt the sunshine kiss his paling skin; on good nights he would jerk himself off and then fall into a restless sleep.
He'd rather be anywhere than here; he might have even taken a few nights at home with his malicious mother instead of living here in Hell. However, where he really wanted to be was back with the Potters; that had been Heaven. He knew that the Potters would take him back with no questions asked as if he was their own son, but it did not seem right. James no longer lived there, and when he moved out, Sirius moved out.
He had not talked to James at all since they parted ways. James, of course, had found a quaint little flat with Lily Evans, and thinking that James would have rather spent his time with her rather than him made him feel sick to his stomach. He could not help the ill thoughts that he had for James; originally he thought it stupid of him to react in such a way. James had his own life and he had his; they had their own paths to walk down. However, he quickly dismissed his thoughts of throwing James a bone; he still abandoned their friendship, or so he felt.
Deep down he knew he was being ridiculous, but even deeper down he realized that he stopped caring.
He sat himself casually on his nearly destroyed couch; the plaid fabric was ripped and stained while a few springs jutted out from the cushions. In his right hand, Sirius clutched a crumpled piece of parchment that he had read several times even though he did not like what was being said. Somehow, the letter made him feel as though he was still human and still connected to the world around him. He unfolded the letter with rough fingers, pressing his lips together as he read:
Dear Sirius,
How are you, buddy? I haven't heard from you at all since you moved and I was just wondering what's up. Are you okay? Did I say something wrong last time we saw each other to piss you off? I know that you're mad at me because I moved into a flat with Lily and not you. What can I say, though? I love her, Sirius, and I want to be with her. I want to still be your friend, too, but, well...you know how it is.
I was wondering if I can come over next weekend? If you don't mind then owl me back and I'll come by. If you do mind then owl me and I'll still come by. If you don't owl me, I'll also still come by. It'd be nice of you if you wrote back so I'd know that you're actually still alive, though.
Anyway, hope everything is going fine and that you are happy in your new place.
-James
He shook his head; James fell over his words when writing just like how he did when talking. Sirius thought that most of the letter was bullshit, and that it was too little, too late. Of course he was not okay; James did not need to ask him that to know. Of course he was pissed off from the last time they saw each other when James announced that he would be moving in with Lily and not him. Also, since when did Evans become Lily? Since when did James call him buddy? Yes, the whole letter was indeed bullshit.
He decided that he was not going to respond; he knew that if James wanted to come then the would come no matter what he said on the matter. He didn't feel like wasting time scribbling a letter back, maybe if he wouldn't then James would forget. He did not know whether he wanted James to forget about him or not.
Forgetting would sure make things easier, and he wished that he could forget James. Forget their friendship and the history that they had.
He knew it was impossible.
James would be with him forever if only in his memories.
*
The sky outside was a bright blue; birds were chirping and the dull sound of lawn being mowed in the distance could faintly be heard. It must be at least ten o'clock in the morning; he knew which sounds went to which hours of the day. According to James' letter he was going to come by today, and he could hardly wait to see if he kept to his word.
He lifted his arm up above his head and sniffed into his armpit. "Oh, fuck!" he exclaimed in a sleep-hoarse voice, making a face of disgust as he put his arm back down. He had not bathed in a couple of days and the fact that it was the summer did not help matters. If James really was coming over, he would have to shower, unless he wanted to kill him.
When he pushed himself out of his small bed, his bones cracked into position as if he were an old man. With heavy feet he shuffled over to his tiny bathroom, turned the knob, and let the water run until it heated to his liking. He fumbled with getting his t-shirt off and untying the drawstrings of his pajama bottoms until his clothes fell freely from his dirty body, landing at his feet.
He stepped into his shower and cowered back slightly as the warm drops from the shower head came down on his body hard and fast. The water washing his body free of the filth that had collected over the past few days felt better than any shower should have the right to feel. His muscles relaxed. Water eased his anxious nerves.
He ran his claw-like hands through his tangled black hair; he looked down and saw dirty water attract to the drain. The water freed him from the dried blood that had crusted over his wounds, and of the earth that took to his skin like flies to a dead carcass. He had let himself go astray for far too long, and it was really starting to get ridiculous.
The bubbling soap suds coated his skin in one thin layer. His hands massaging the soap across his chest and shoulders slipped easily, slowly, and even though the touch came from his own hands, it felt sensual; almost as if his hands belonged to someone else. He closed his eyes and thought of James. He thought of their days at Hogwarts and how they weren't so far away, yet it seemed like years. He thought of their pranks and laughs, how they were invincible and inseparable. Times had definitely changed, and they were not the same. He did not like that change.
The more he thought about James, the more his heart ached, yet he could not free his mind from its dangerous plague. He remembered not their first hug, but the first time a hug between them actually scared him. It was the end of their fifth year at Hogwarts, getting ready to part their ways and head off with their families when James had hugged him. James hugged him good and long, hugged him so tightly that his back cracked, and he whispered in Sirius' ear that it would not be long until they saw each other again; that everything was going to be okay and that he was always going to be there for Sirius. He did not want to let James go after that. Sirius' stomach knotted and twisted, he felt like he could fly as long as James was there to keep his wings in motion.
He remembered their first kiss. James had just been rejected for the umpteenth time by Evans and he needed some comforting. Sirius told him that there were other birds out there that he could get as he put his arms around James' shoulder and squeezed him. James must have been out of it; even now he didn't know for sure, but when James leaned over and awkwardly kissed his cheek, his skin felt as if it were aflame. James apologized over and over, but Sirius would have none of that as he gently kissed him on the lips, trying to tell him just as James had so many times that everything was going to be okay. That he was here for James and that he'd help him through. That they'd make it because they were together.
Tears did not cascade down his cheeks when he thought of James, but a lump formed in his throat and his head started to pound and ache. He realized that he was half-hard, his hand found his cock and jerked roughly until he came, and James' name was soft and lingering on his quivering lips as he dropped his head in sorrow.
He wished James knew how much he was killing him. He wondered if James no longer cared.
*
"Would you like me to come with you?" called a kind, questioning voice from the kitchen.
James buckled his cloak, stored his wand in his pocket, and ruffled up his hair slightly. "No, that's okay, Lily. I think it would be better if I went by myself," he said, walking into the kitchen to say goodbye to his girlfriend. "Sirius is having a rough go, and I think that he's upset that I am living with you now instead of him. I don't think he'd be all that happy to see you."
Lily smiled weakly at James and shrugged her shoulders. "All right, then," she moved to hug James tight around his waist. "Do you think that you'll be home in time for dinner tonight?"
"Actually," he started, planting a soft kiss on Lily's forehead. "I think I'll probably stay the night over there. I haven't seen Sirius in a while, and we have got some catching up to do."
Lily nodded, giving James' hand a tight squeeze. She thought that Sirius was being a little ridiculous, but she knew that bringing it up wouldn't be too wise. James had a soft spot for Sirius, and while he would listen to her, she knew that anything about Sirius that she said to James was in one ear and out the other.
"I know that Remus has nothing to do tonight," he said hesitantly, hoping that if Lily was mad with him about leaving that some of their friends could come over to talk her out of it. "And I know that Peter probably doesn't have anything planned, either. I'm sure they'd both love to see you tonight."
"Yes, I suppose," she said, smiling as she stirred the pasta that she had cooking on the burner. "I've made food for more than one, anyhow."
"Good, then," he hugged and kissed her again. "I'll see you when I come back tomorrow, love," he said, turning on his heel as he left their flat, closing the door shut behind him, locking it first with his key and then with his wand.
As soon as the heated outside air licked his chilled skin, he turned on the spot and Apparated to right outside of Sirius' apartment complex. Several of the building's windows were cracked and broken, the shutters were barely staying in place. The paint on the doors were chipped and needed retouching, and the bricks looked as though half of them have been cursed to oblivion. He wondered why Sirius chose this place; he knew that Sirius had more than enough gold to get by and obviously could afford a nicer apartment than this.
As he walked up to Sirius' apartment, he noticed that the complex must be one for Muggles. When he passed closed doors that bore large brass numbers, he saw a young woman in tight jeans and a shirt that barely covered her large breasts who was carrying a rectangular object that seemed to be playing upbeat music. When he jabbed the button of the elevator to bring him up to the third floor, he stood in the small enclosed space with an old man that smelled like pipe tobacco and mothballs, and a middle-aged woman who wore a nicely pressed business suit and held a portable phone to her ear that she was talking to rapidly in scientific terms. He thought that he must look quite odd to them – he was wearing a traveling cloak after all – but they all seemed to pretend as if he simply did not exist.
When the elevator stopped at the third floor, he rushed out of the enclosed space and down the hall, looking for the apartment labeled with large brass number 312. He passed several closed doors that had odd noises coming from behind them before he spotted Sirius' apartment. He stood staring at it for a while until he brought his fist up to knock.
*
Sirius dressed himself silently in plain Muggle clothes. It had been a while since he so much as touched his nice traveling cloaks and dress robes – if he even left the house, they were to Muggle establishments and he didn't want to deal with the awkward stares. It was nearing the late afternoon; James said that he was going to show up before dinner, whenever that was. He shouldn't be long now.
He stood before his mirror, trying to fix his hair that grew down to his shoulders; his bangs falling into his stormy eyes. He hadn't paid this much attention to his appearance since he was in school, and the only reason that he was now was because he didn't want James seeing that he had been having a rough go. He didn't want James to see how pathetic he was without him.
James. Why did it pain him so to think about James? Why couldn't he just get over it?
Knock knock.
James. He had decided to show. He wondered pessimistically how long he would decide to stay. Probably five minutes was his guess.
He walked slowly to the door; surely it would make it seem like he had been keeping himself busy and had not been waiting for the sound of a casual knock all day, even though he had been. He grasped his door handle, exhaled, and opened it quickly.
"Hi, Sirius," James said with a wide smile. It was almost time had not passed them by at all. He stood looking young as ever; his hair was ruffled and standing on edge. His eyes were friendly behind his rectangular glasses, and his arms were open wide, waiting for a hug.
Sirius wanted to hug him, but he couldn't. He stared at James, pressing his lips into a fine line, his eyes emotionless – an expression that might rival McGonagall's cold stare. "So, you decided to show," he said flatly, standing out of the doorway so that James could come inside. It was the friendliest welcome he could muster.
"I told you that I was going to come no matter what," James said as he walked into Sirius' apartment, and closing the door shut behind him. He looked around the small room that they were standing in; the state of it was not much different from the rest of the complex. "So, you...uh...like your new place?"
Sirius shrugged, leaning against the nearest wall with his arms folded over his chest. He knew that even if he said that his apartment was alright, that James would be able to hear the lie in his words.
"Why did you pick this place?" James asked. The tension between them was obvious and made both of them rather uncomfortable.
Sirius stared at the wall past James' head. "The location is convenient," he said plainly, shoving his fists into his pocket. "And besides, why should I waste my gold on this place if I am not going to stay here long?"
"Oh, you're moving again?"
"I might, yeah."
They stood in silence, trying hard not to look at each other, but failing miserably. He looked at James whenever he thought that James was not looking at him, and when he caught James' glance, he mentally cursed himself for flushing. What was he, some lovesick schoolboy? Well, he wasn't so sure about the schoolboy bit, but lovesick-
"So," James said when he could not take the silence anymore, his arms swinging at his side. "Are you going to invite me to the nearby pub or you just going to stand here sulking?"
Sirius glared at James as he grabbed his keys that he had already laid out on the counter, shoving them into his pocket. He walked to his door, opened it, and waited out in the hall without a word to James, who took the hint and left the room in his wake.
There was a nice little pub just around the block. Whenever Sirius left his house, odds are that was were he went. Sirius walked a couple paces ahead of James, and when they approached the pub, he did not hold the door open for him.
He stalked over to the bar and sat down on one of the rickety wooden stools, knowing that James would take the one next to him. He waved down the barkeep and ordered two large ales, not particularly caring whether or not that was what James wanted.
"So, you came by to talk or what?" Sirius said flatly, downing a good portion of the ale before he slammed the glass down on top of the bar.
James thought before he spoke. He wasn't sure how to say what was on his mind. "Yeah, in a way, I guess," he started, taking a large sip before he went on. "I mean, you haven't answered any of my letters since term ended."
"I guess I didn't have anything to say," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Bullshit," he said sharply. He did not like when Sirius was being an ass; he could only remember one time when things were bad like this, and oddly enough the last time also involved him and Lily. "I know that you're pissed at me, but I don't know what else to do. I love her, Sirius, and you know that," he stared at his glass. How he wanted to talk about something else, but it was only a matter of time that they'd have to have this conversation. "I love her a lot. She's important to me."
"And your best mate isn't?" Sirius asked roughly, feeling his anger well up in his stomach. He wanted to leave.
James rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't say that," how could he put this without Sirius getting angry? "You're important to me, too, just in a different way. And don't be a prat; you know what I am talking about."
"You said we would find a place after term. A place together. Never once did Evans' name come up."
"Well, things changed. My mind changed, I guess," he fiddled with his glass before he took another swig. "But just because I chose living with Lily for the moment does not mean that we're any less of friends. We are still friends, well, you're still my friend."
"Hmph," he grunted, shifting in his chair. He ached with an extreme desire to leave, yet it was never be easy to leave James behind. He wasn't even sure if he was capable of that.
Silence overwhelmed them again; they both sat uncomfortably, both on edge. They sat next to each other as if they were strangers, but Sirius knew that out of all the people he has ever known throughout his lifetime, no one knew him better or understood him more than James, and at the moment he hated James for that.
Well, as much as he could possibly hate his best friend, which was not much at all.
"I suppose you better get back to Evans, then. She's probably wondering where you are."
"Don't drag Lily into this. It is not about her. It's about us."
"Well, I know that you'd rather be with her than here."
"Yeah, I would, if you're going to be childish."
"I am not being childish," Sirius said, even though he knew that he was.
"You are, Sirius, if you are letting a little thing like who I decide to live with wreck our friendship!" Now James wanted to leave. He did not want to deal with Sirius when he was like this. He didn't want anything to do with Sirius at the moment. However, he knew that he had to be the better man and stay. They had to resolve this because the distance that Sirius placed between them was killing him.
"Maybe you should go," he said weakly, as if every word sucked up all of his energy.
"I'm not leaving. I came to work this out."
Sirius did not answer back at all; not even with a shrug of his shoulder or a stone cold glare. He reached into his pocket, pulling out some Muggle money and smacking enough to pay for both drinks down on the table. Without another word spoken to James, he got up and left the pub. He had the slightest hope and desire that his friend would follow him, but knew that he was being stupid. James didn't come here for nothing; of course he would follow Sirius.
James downed the rest of his ale, slammed the glass down on the bar, and pushed himself out of his stool. He rushed out of the bar and after Sirius, who had just made it just to the sidewalk. James caught up with him, his chest heaving as he grabbed Sirius by the scruff of his collar and dragged him into the nearby alleyway, and slammed him up against the closest structure he could find. He was so close and his breath was coming so fast that it pushed Sirius' bangs out of his eyes every time he exhaled.
"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" he hissed, struggling to free himself from James' grasp, but he had got a hold of Sirius just right. He could not move enough to escape. Bloody fucking hell.
"I am putting you in your place," he spat back, tightening his grip when Sirius struggled. He hated being this way with Sirius, he hated even thinking ill of Sirius. He did not know what he was doing and why he was doing it. However, he was tired of Sirius' shit and he knew what this was all about, deep down. "We can't be the way we used to be again, Sirius. You fucking know that."
They could not be the way they used to be. They could not be the lovers they used to be. Whether or not they would stick to what they could and could not do was a completely different story.
"How come?" he said slowly, softly, trying to sound like he was not whining. Sirius moved his hips in a suggestive way, feeling James pull back immediately at the contact. "What Evans doesn't know won't hurt her." Sirius' mood completely switched as though James had finally jabbed the "on" button that he had been searching for this whole time; that button that brought back the old, unpredictable, horny Sirius Black.
James should search for the "off" button, but he could not bring himself to do it. When Sirius got this way, there was nothing that would stop him from giving his friend what he wanted – what they both, deep down, wanted. Not even Lily, as much as it pained him to admit. "You mean Lily, you fuck," he growled at Sirius, shoving him even harder against the alley wall.
Sirius pushed back harshly against James, but he did not budge from holding him firmly against the wall. Sirius snaked his arms up around James neck and pressed his chapped lips firmly against James' softer ones. He tasted the same as he did when he was in school; of alcohol, spearmint, and purely sweet. He kissed the same; slow, rough, and always, always making Sirius melt in his arms. James even nibbled his lip as he used to when he was younger, yet with a little more force, and Sirius tasted blood.
"Fuck, James," he cursed, pulling away from the kiss to rub his mouth with the back of his hand as James' mouth latched onto his exposed neck, licking at the sheen of sweat that had collected there out of nerves, and nibbling down a little when he felt Sirius' pulse under his grazing teeth. "Stop fucking around, James, and fuck me already, you fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," he spattered, stumbling all over his words as he squirmed beneath James' working mouth.
"Are you sure? Or do you want to go back to being a prick again?" James whispered in his ear, bringing his hand down to the front of Sirius' pants.
"No, I don't, but I know where I want your prick," he said in a suggestive way, sighing some as he dug his hips against James, trying to increase the weak pressure that his hand was creating. It was definitely not enough; James was teasing him, and for how difficult he was being earlier, Sirius could not blame him.
James smiles against Sirius' sweaty cheek, and his hands move from Sirius' crotch to his jutting hipbones that he still hasn't quite grown into. James loves the subtle imperfections that Sirius possesses. He loves how Sirius feels lithe and underfed under his lingering touch. He is so different from Lily; from the way he feels to the way that James feels about him, and James wonders how he can possibly love both of them.
Sirius rolls his eyes and undoes his jeans, he pushes them down past his waist just a little, and he grabs James' limp hand and guides it to his cock. He crushes James' hand against his arousal, sighing at the pressure, and his fingernails dig into James' sensitive skin as he starts to move both of their hands. James hisses, but Sirius pays him no mind. James' hand feels like Heaven on his heated skin, and even if there are so many things wrong about this moment, so many things that he'd like to change, somehow it feels just right. James has always had that sort of power over him.
"God, Sirius," James whispers softly in his ear, and Sirius' cocks his head to the side when James' breath tickles his skin. "Turn around already," he demands of his friend as he wrestles his hand free from Sirius' and unbuttons and unzips his trousers, carelessly pushing them down to fall lamely around his ankles. A breeze kisses his flushed skin, and it does not even occur to him that they are in an alley that does not possess enough shadows to hide the two of them in darkness completely.
Sirius compiles without a second thought. He arches his back, sticks his rear out a little, parts his legs, and holds on as best as he can to the stone wall with his claw-like digits. When James yanks Sirius' jeans down completely, he falls with them, kneeling before Sirius as if he was a King and James, a peasant, unworthy of being in Sirius' presence. His face is close to Sirius' backside, he can almost feel the heat that Sirius' skin casts, and Sirius' scent overwhelms his nose as he breathes in. Sirius smells just as he remembers him; of cigarettes and dirt. James hopes that it is the last thing he smells when he dies; he will then surely die relaxed and engulfed in the strongest love he has ever known.
James places his hands on Sirius' two globes, gripping his bottom tightly enough to leave purple marks as he holds his cheeks apart. Sirius' tight pink entrance is already clenching, and when James brings his mouth to it, pokes out his tongue, and licks, Sirius whimpers somewhere off in the distance. The more James sucks and laps around the puckered skin, the more wanton Sirius gets, and the more jelly-like his legs become. When he feels the tip of James' wet, cat-like tongue poke just past his tight ring, he moans involuntarily, and grips and claws at the stone bricks for support.
"Ja-Jamie. God, Jamie. Please, please, please," Sirius mutters in an odd sort of chant in between his moans, and James is almost surprised that Sirius has suppressed his begs for so long.
James pulls back from Sirius' loosened, clenching hole, and he spits into his hand. James rubs his saliva on his rock hard cock quickly before his spit drips down his hand and onto the pavement. He pushes into Sirius' entrance in one slick moment, his friend withers and whimpers nearby until James is balls-deep inside of Sirius. He stills himself; Sirius feels the same way as he's always felt; he is tight and hot around his erect cock, his back is sweaty and heaving against his chest, and his hand reaches awkwardly to cup James' neck as he kisses him. It is Heaven and Hell all wrapped into one single moment. I is pleasant blue skies and harsh, cold pain. It is just what James needs.
The thought of Lily does not even plague his mind when he is with Sirius like this. He is not able to possibly think of anyone but Sirius when his cock is pulsing in and out of him. It is languid, lurid, and lovely all at once. Sirius jerks back against him, trying to keep up with James' needy pace, but they are on two different wave lengths. They move at different times; they are connected, but are two separate entities.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck," Sirius curses and James hears it so loudly that he thinks that Sirius' mouth might be against his ear. He grabs Sirius' hips tight enough to leave deep purple bruises, pounds roughly, and Sirius is tired of waiting – he brings his own hand to his hard cock and tugs harshly until he comes with a howl, pounding the stone wall with his balled fist as he throws his head back, his eyes closed in bliss.
James feels Sirius' body clench and tremble against him and he comes roughly, his nails digging and breaking Sirius skin as he latches onto his neck, sucking and nibbling and doing God knows what. He stops only when Sirius pushes him away, and Sirius collapses onto the ground with a sated, dumb sort of look on his face as James starts to do up his trousers again.
James feels awkward as he is standing over Sirius, who still has his pants down around his knees. "Mate, get your pants up before someone comes," he tells him under a hushed breath as he presses his hands down to the fabric of his clothes to flatten out the wrinkles.
Sirius stumbles to his feet and yanks his jeans up to his waist. "So, are you coming back to my apartment?"
"Do you actually have any food to eat tonight?" James asked Sirius with a cocked eyebrow. He highly doubted that Sirius had been to the store to buy food in quite some time.
"Does it matter if I do or don't?" Sirius said in a cocky sort of voice with a crooked grin. "Are you really wanting to eat while you're over? Who knows when you'll be back?"
James glared at Sirius, punched his gut, and then swung his arm around Sirius' shoulders. James led the two of them to the nearest market, where they bought just enough food for dinner, and possibly a small breakfast the next day.
It's just like old times, and Sirius wants him back like this so badly that his eyes sting with hot tears that he is determined to pretend do not exist.
*
There had been a time when James was his partner in crime. When James was his best friend and his shoulder to cry on. When James was even his hero; as flawed as he was. And as he curled up in his bed around his warm blankets, he realized that he had traded in that hero for James' ghost a long time ago. That ghost would haunt his dreams and his waking moments alike forevermore. He was certain of that.
Still, he wished with all his might that James was with him. Here with him. Only him. And forever.