Disclaimer: James + Sirius aren't my characters. They're J.K. Rowling's!
'/' usually means a flashback is beginning/ending. Otherwise, it's used to faux-italicize

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/Boy and boy silent as mice. Huddled against one another in a dark closet somewhere. Peeking through a crack in the door, breathless from running. Eyes wide open, mischevious smiles spread across their faces./
I remember, now that I think about it, how his breath was warm against my neck. His arm around my shoulder. The way his voice felt in my ear.

/Boy and boy laughing, collapsed into a pile of entwined limbs. Skinned knees and bandaged fingers, grass stains on black trousers, growing holes in Gryffindor sweaters. "The look on her face," one laughs. "Priceless," the other says./

It was much simpler then, when I didn't think about it. I didn't think about his legs wrapped around mine as we lay in the grass. The way he laid his head in my lap and fell half asleep there under the tree.

/Boy crying. Boy holding boy tightly.Arms around backs, hands grabbing shirts for safety, for comfort, or maybe just to make hands hurt instead of hearts. Foggy glasses, tired blue eyes, two heads of messy black hair crushed together into one./

I died inside as I held him, so close that it hurt. I could have, though…died right there with his arms around me, crying into my shoulder.

/Boy and boy running through the dark forest, holding hands. "Hold on! Don't get lost!" "Don't lose me!" Tripping over branches, leaves caught in hair, guided only by spotty moonlight coming through the trees. Boy holds onto his glasses for dear life, knowing the other hand is warm and wet, fingers laced into the other's dry ones. They stop to breathe, hearts racing for two different reasons./

'I'm in love with my best friend,' I thought.

/Boy and boy sitting on the common room floor, talking. Fireplace casting dancing shadows across their faces. "That one girl, what's her name…behind me in Divination…"
"Christiana?"
"Yeah, her." Boy smiles, his blue eyes flickering in the light.
"And her sister's alright, too."/

I wanted to kill every girl he ever talked about, so I just shut up sometimes. I wanted to scream that he needn't look any further. 'Here I am, I can be everything you want.'

/Boy and boy (and boy, and tired, bruised, torn up boy) lying on the rough, hardwood floors of the shack. Three sleeping, one still awake. He lies facing another; the one with long, blue-black hair whose expression is oddly tranquil, his mouth open slightly. Boy stares into boy's closed eyes as if they were still open, with all the want and love and anger he wishes he could see. Boy moves closer to boy and hangs his arm around the other's waist with his head tucked under the other boy's chin. Make it look coincidental. Don't wake him up./

But I wanted so badly to be able to see his eyes as we lay there that night – to see him smiling back at me, pulling me closer.

/Good night, Sirius/ I whispered to him, so quietly that he could never hear it.

/Boy and boy sitting in the back row of Astronomy class, lost in darkness, reflections of the stars in their tired eyes. They sit beside each other, and boy purposely accidentally moves his arm to rest touching the other boy's arm. Other boy doesn't move his arm away. Boy smiles./

I thought of holding his hand, of grabbing him and doing God Knows What to him, but of course I didn't.

/Boy comes back from quidditch practice and opens the dormitory door. Boy kissing girl. "Get out of here, James!" "What are you doing?" "What does it look like?" Boy bites back a scream or tears, or the urge to hurl his broom at girl, and slams the door behind him as he leaves./

I ran and I ran until I had no idea where I was going. I just went the only place I knew nobody would be.

/Boy sits beside the lake, arms around his knees, staring out at the sunset. He pulls out handfuls of grass and tears them into tiny pieces, thinking 'fuck, fuck, fuck..' until he hears someone walking through the leaves behind him.
"Jamie?" "Yeah."
Other boy sits down next to him, and they don't say anything for a long time. Other buy pulls an ugly little flower out of the grass and tucks it behind boy's ear, smiling. Boy and boy stare out at the sun that melts over the horizon, the sky dark blue and violet.
"Prongs," the other boy whispers… "Padfoot," boy answers. Other boy touches boy's hand. He holds it. He weaves their fingers together./

At that moment, I think he knew. Or I realized he knew…or he just /thought/ until then.

/Boy kissing boy. Collapsed itno a pile of entwined limbs. Grass stains on black trousers, arms around backs, hands grabbing at shirts. Foggy glasses, tired blue eyes. Two heads of messy black hair crushed together into one./

The End.