A/N: I don't own these beautiful boys, of course. If I did, the series would have been named the Marauders, not Harry Potter.

Three weeks into November, it was beginning to get horribly cold outside. It was Friday evening, and the fifth year Gryffindor boys' dormitory was empty except for a long-haired, loose-limbed boy sprawled out on his bed, uncharacteristically silent and still in the absence of his regular companions.

Sirius was just settling down to finish that Muggle book he'd borrowed off of Remus (something about a magic ring and a dark lord— how the hell was it magic if you didn't use wands, for fuck's sake?), when he heard James stomping into the dormitory. He began counting down from ten.

Nine, eight, seven—a series of crashes from the bed next to his.

Six, five—a deep, frustrated groan.

Four, three, two

Sirius' curtains were unceremoniously jerked open, revealing a thoroughly dishevelled James. Flopping down onto Sirius' bed, his head coming to rest just beside the book Sirius had open on the pillow, James let out a huge sigh. It warmed something inside Sirius that he'd anticipated all of this.

"You smell like a drain," he said, by way of greeting.

James flipped him the finger. "Where're Moony and Wormtail?"

"Studying in the library. Drowned in the Lake. Who knows?"

"I'm about zonked out. Ran into Evans after practice."

"Let me guess. She said no again."

James made a face.

"Yeah. I don't get it. She's—well, she's smart. And beautiful, but she's bloody smart. What's she doing hanging around Snivellus, then?"

"Ah," said Sirius wisely, " women always take longer than you expect to forgive you once they've decided you've done something wrong. And Evans, my ickle lovesick friend, definitely thinks you've done her wrong."

"You'd think this sort of thing happens after you start dating a bird, not before," James griped.

"I weep for you," said Sirius, looking nowhere close to weeping. "I deeply sympathise. But really, Jamesie, if you're wanting to ask a girl out, you maybe shouldn't go round hexing her best friend."

"Whose side are you on?" James grumped.

"Give it time, mate," said Sirius, grinning and turning back to his book.

James sighed again, rubbing his face.

"It's just, you know..." he trailed off, then made a face. "I'm whining, aren't I?"

Sirius sighed dramatically, but the slight grin still on his face rather ruined the effect.

"Oh no, not at all. Listening to your lonely feeeeelings tops my list of fun things to do on a Friday evening, really," he said, then paused. "You know, if there's something the matter—"

"No, I'm just frustrated. And tired, but mostly that."

"All right," Sirius said, but watched him carefully.

James swatted a hand at him. "I'm fine, mate. I'm frustrated, but I'm fine."

Something clicked in Sirius' head. "You mean you can't—"

"Yeah," said James, a slight flush creeping up on his face.

Sirius started laughing. He knew he shouldn't, Merlin knew he'd had dry spells himself, but the more he tried to stop, the funnier it became.

"Sorry," he said, in between bursts of laughter. "Sorry, it's not, I know it sucks, all right? Just—I'm thinking of you trying to get your rocks off and..."

"You're an arsehole," mumbled James, shielding his eyes with the crook of his elbow.

"What is it, then? Lack of imagination? I can tell you some of the things I think about," Sirius waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"The imagination's fine, Padfoot. It's me own wee hand I'm sick of."

"That's easy to take care of, then, isn't it?" laughed Sirius. "Just get someone to give you a hand."

"Unlike some people," said James pointedly, "I usually like to take girls on dates and treat them nice before I decide to ask for a little handsie. Not worth the effort, you know?"

"See, this is where it comes in handy to fancy blokes, they're less stuck up about some harmless fun," said Sirius, still laughing, but there was a little something in his tone that made James open his eyes and sit up on his elbows.

"You've tried it, then?" he asked carefully. He'd known Sirius wasn't as concerned as other people tended to be about which way he swung, but this was the first time he'd openly said as much.

Sirius shrugged. "Sure. A few times. They usually know what they're doing too, a lot better than girls."

"Who?" James asked, before he could stop himself, and then rushed to add, "It's just— I've only ever seen you with girls."

He shrugged again, just a shade too casual.

"None of the lads here goes in for that, at least not openly. I know one or two who wouldn't mind, but... It isn't worth the effort, you know?" he smiled wryly.

"Why not?"

"It's not exactly acceptable, is it? They're mostly from the respectable pureblood families, so they'd get chucked out if they were ever caught doing something like that. So it ends up being more sneaking, less snogging."

He was grinning, but there was something faintly bitter in his voice.

With a pang, James realised that he didn't know anything about Sirius' love life other than that he'd started way too early even for the Marauders, and the few vaguely suggestive descriptions he tossed out whenever he stumbled into the dormitory at four in the morning. That was wild, he'd declare with a stupid grin, before flopping down on his bed and falling asleep almost immediately. And they'd pretend to be annoyed with all the casual sex, and tell him off the next morning.

What if the reason he'd been sleeping around was that he couldn't find someone to go steady with? If Sirius had had his heart broken, if he'd ever been hurt, would he have told them?

James sat up suddenly.

"Pads, I just realised I've been a horrible friend. I didn't even know—"

"I didn't want you to know," Sirius cut him off, "I didn't think I could take it if—"

He paused and stared rather fixedly at James' knee.

"If what?" asked James, as gently as he could.

"If you decided you didn't want to be mates anymore," he said, sounding horribly casual. "You know, because of the queer thing."

"You are a git, you know that?" said James, ignoring the sudden clench in his stomach at how breakable Sirius looked in that moment.

Sirius' head shot up.

"What, you thought you'd stop being my best mate just because you preferred lads to girls? You really are a complete bloody knobhead."

"You're a knobhead," Sirius replied almost automatically, but it came out a little breathless, and he seemed to be searching James' expression for something.

"Oh yeah, that's clever," James, rolling his eyes. "But honestly, I'd have thought all that we did for Moony was enough of a clue."

Sirius must have found what he was looking for, because he grinned and fell back on the bed.

"So," said James, getting comfortable as well, "how did you know?"

"Stupid question. How d'you know you like girls, eh?"

"Well, they've got nice tits, haven't they? What do boys... oh. Wait, how does it work? Do you, er—?"

"Take it up the arse?" Sirius finished, sounding highly amused.

"Well, yeah," said James, turning a little red.

"Well, sometimes. I've... I dunno how to explain it, but it's not like anything you expect at all. Fun, mind. But different."

James supposed that with all the prejudices purebloods seemed to cling to, he ought to feel a little uncomfortable or something at that, but it seemed to calm Sirius down to talk, and his eyes looked much less like a cornered animal's than they had a minute ago. All James felt was a surge of protectiveness for his friend.

He grinned, "You've been holding out on us, Padfoot."

Sirius laughed. "The first time, yeah? Fellow I met at King's Cross, end of the year before last. Muggle, but Merlin he could kiss. Anyway, I spent the rest of the holidays sneaking out of the house every chance I got."

James remembered Sirius being more evasive than usual when asked about his holidays. He'd put it down to Sirius' usual avoidance of talking about his family, but this explained a few things.

"So when I asked you to come over for the holidays, and you said you had some family things to do..."

"I lied," said Sirius, grimacing slightly. "Sorry."

"Mate," said James seriously, "you didn't have to lie. You never have to, not to me."

"Yeah, I know," said Sirius. "I— thanks, Jamie. I mean it."

"Git," said James fondly. "Anyway, we have to do something about Snivellus..."

The rest of the evening was spent happily scheming away.