James was lying on the ground, twiddling a piece of grass between his finger and thumb, and Sirius was sat beside him. The sun was beating down on them heavily. Their skin was exposed to the light in their muggle T-Shirt and shorts, but neither could find the energy to move in to shade. James watched, cross-eyed, as a bead of sweat ran down his nose, dropping onto his upper lip.
"James, mate, can I talk to you?"
He glanced up at Sirius, who looked unnerved, biting his lip and staring at his thumbs.
"Sure. What is it?"
"Well…" Sirius trailed off and lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck.
James frowned. Sirius had been reduced from the epitome of self confidence to a nervous teenage boy – something with which James was not familiar. Rather than push him, James allowed Sirius to take his time. He knew that his friend would refuse to tell him if he tried to force it, drama queen as he was.
"It's just-" Sirius took a deep breath. James wondered what on earth was going on, his frown deepening. What could have possibly happened? He had already been thrown out of his abusive childhood home and been disowned. Was Reg OK? Was Sirius going to drop out of school? Was he sick? Did he-
"I'm gay."
James raised his eyebrows shot his friend a look, but Sirius didn't seem to be joking. He had suddenly become intrigued with the dry grass, examining it carefully and avoiding eye contact with James.
On the one hand, James wanted to laugh with relief. Sirius was absolutely fine. He wasn't going to die, and neither was anyone else. He was only behaving like a drama queen, as he was so prone to do.
On the other hand, James wanted to punch him. He didn't suppose there was anything inherently wrong with homosexuality, but he'd never known a gay person before. What would it mean for Sirius? It was a well known fact that people got a hard time for being gay. What did Sirius think he was doing?
On the final hand – though James realised he was running out of hands – he felt hurt. He had thought he knew Sirius inside out and upside down. Sirius lived with him, for Christ's sake! How could Sirius have possibly kept this a secret?
Instead of voicing any of his thoughts, James asked, "But what about Marlene?" He wasn't sure why. Sirius and Marlene seemed to be an on-and-off thing – on when they were drunk, off when they weren't. It was clear that neither of them were really in to the other.
"I dunno. I never liked it that much," was Sirius' reply. James couldn't tell what Sirius was thinking as he kept his tone of voice steady and kept his eyes trained to the ground.
"How do you know? That you're gay?"
Sirius blushed furiously. "I just know," he muttered.
James rolled his eyes at his friend, but curiosity got the better of him. Sirius appeared to be almost shy, and though there were many words James could use to describe Sirius, shy was not among them. Certainly not when it came to his love life – or lack thereof.
"What is it? Do you have dirty magazines or something?"
Sirius' face flamed crimson. "No."
"Yeah, right."
"I don't!" Sirius protested. "Where would I get them, anyway?"
James conceded the point reluctantly. Sirius had received no strange packages, as far as he was concerned, and Sirius could rarely breathe without James knowing about it.
"OK. So how do you know?" James scrunched up his nose in disgust. "You don't have a boyfriend, do you?"
Sirius paused for a moment too long before saying, "No," forcefully.
James sat up. "Who is he?" he asked eagerly.
"No one! I don't have a boyfriend, James."
"Do you have a crush on someone?"
"No! I mean-" He fell silent and rolled on to his side, facing away from James.
"Padfoot?" James peered over his shoulder. His teenaged mind had not quite learnt to deal with emotions yet, but he placed a tentative hand on his friend's shoulder. "What's wrong?"
Sirius emitted a muffled sound. James shifted closer. "I didn't quite hear that, mate."
This time, James thought he could decipher the groan. "Did you just say Moony?"
Sirius sat up, though his face was still stained red. Gathering his limbs to curl up in to a ball, he nodded. "Please don't make fun of me," he pleaded in a quiet voice.
James sat back to give the humiliated teenager some space, and whistled through his teeth. "Jesus. What are you going to do?"
Sirius shrugged helplessly. "What can I do?"
"You could always tell him."
Sirius shot James a dirty look. "I couldn't. Even if he was – you know – like me, there's no way he'd fancy me."
"He might," James reasoned, but Sirius was having none of it. He shook his head vigorously, his hair flying about his head, as if trying to not only convince James but also himself.
"Don't tell anyone, will you?"
James gave Sirius a clap on the back. "Of course not." He paused in thought, then added, "It's perfectly alright with me, you know. You're still Sirius and everything, right?"
Sirius nodded, a small smile decorating his face. "Yeah. I'm still Sirius."