"He made me feel unhinged . . . like he could take me apart and put me back together again and again."
Chelsie Shakespeare
It was dark.
And cold.
And James was shivering as he stood there, his robes dripping around him. Slowly starting to freeze in the crisp winter air.
"Why the fuck-"
"I'm sorry." He says, but he doesn't mean it. He can hear the fakeness coming from his own mouth.
"You fucker." Sirius hisses, silver eyes narrowed and James has never seen hatred personified more perfectly than this.
"I hate you!"
And standing there, long tangled hair dripping. Snowflakes stuck to long thick eyelashes. Blood seeping from his chest. Blue tinged lips, mixed with the red blood of his mouth.
James knew he meant it.
"I'm sorry." He says again, because he can't think of what else to say. He can't tear his eyes away from Sirius. Sirius who is slowly dying in front of him. Because of him. He can't look away…
Something breaks inside him.
He can feel it. Breaking. Shattering.
"You knew what you were doing!" Sirius screamed at him. His bare chest was ashen, the red blood glinting black in the darkness that surrounded them.
Black's really do bleed black blood James noted.
Sirius' inky black tattoo of the grim leered out at James and he shivered, maybe death was coming for him soon.
There were no words.
Not for this.
Never for this.
Nothing could describe this feeling…this…wretched twisting of his very soul. Heart, mind, and body sewn into one and ripped apart. Thread by thread.
"I'm sorry." He managed to get out again, the words no less fake than the first time he had uttered them. No less fake than the very first time, sitting in that small train compartment...
"I hate you!" The ferocity was taken out of it by the shivering and James took a step forward out of instinct. Because...it's Sirius.
"Don't fucking touch me!"
But James doesn't hear him. Or rather he hears him, but ignores him.
Sirius has done it to him often enough over the years. And a many long years it has been. He should be allowed to play the same tricks back against the same boy who invented them. After all, he had helped invent them. He had helped create them, employ them. He was the master of tricks, playing a card game against the master of lies.
Such a game was never won, only lost. But they both knew that by now, many long years it had been.
Sirius puts up a fight, struggling and scratching. Anything he could reach, anything he touched was destroyed. James expected no less of him. But the black boy's strength in fading fast and he'd lost too much blood to throw James off.
Ripping off his own freezing robes James envelopes Sirius, feeling the other boy's blood slick against his own chest.
"I hate you." Sirius whispers, blue lips hovering near James' ear.
He was always infuriatingly taller.
"Shut up. Shutupshutupshutup you bastard!" James nearly sobs into Sirius' icy shoulder. But he won't cry. Sirius never does. Not for anything. Lost my brother to Death Eaters? Not a tear. Lost my family to the darkness, to the madness? Nothing, eyes dry as they come. I have no home. James recalls that night. Sirius' glassy eyes staring out at him from far away, lost, trapped in the recess of his own mind. But no tears. Never tears.
Sirius Black would never cry. So why should he?
There is no answer.
There are no words.
"I'm sorry." James says again, and this time he means it. Sirius flinches at the emotion, as he does with all emotion but stiffens as James' arms wrap tighter around him.
Then...finally he relaxes and they mold together, as they should. As they always have.
They are…one.
Not just friends. Because James has Remus and Peter, and maybe Lily and some other people too.
And Sirius…well he's friends with everyone. He just can't help it, people like him.
Not just brothers…because Sirius already has a brother. Regulus. And James is an only child, and as much as he's always wished for a brother he'll never really know what it's like. And well, family is overrated Sirius always tells him anyways.
They're certainly not boyfriends. Or fuck buddies. Or anything of the sort.
Even though they do do that.
It just not…them.
There are no words for them.
There never would be.
They completed each other, they were…meant to be. And so they were.
Somehow James manages to find Sirius' lips and he presses his clumsily against them.
They're cold. Freezing actually, which no is surprise seeing as Sirius is shirtless, dripping ice water, and standing in the freezing night air.
But they warm eventually, at least a little bit. And Sirius kisses him back. Harshly. As he always has, it's the only way he knows how. He can taste the blood in Sirius' mouth, and his own.
They break apart. Sirius' quicksilver eyes are judging him. And James feels a flicker of...something. A twinge in his shattered soul.
"I still hate you." Sirius says finally. It's a statement, and it's final. But this time it's a different kind of hate.
James ducks his head and rests it on the taller boy's shoulder.
"I know…and I am sorry."
Sirius grunts in response. The bleeding has slowed but not completely. His legs buckle and James catches him roughly. There are going to be bruises in the morning.
"It's fine. I've had worse." He shrugs regaining his balance but allows James to loop an arm around his waist anyways.
"I know." James reassures him, because he does know. He's seen the worst of it, though he suspects that it's never as bad by the time he gets to Sirius as it was before. Sirius' fingers tighten around James' wrist and he bites his lip to keep from gasping in pain.
"By hate…you know I meant love right?"
"Yeah. I know." James kisses him sloppily again. It's hard to kiss someone when you're trying to keep them from failing over.
"I love you too Sirius."
Happy Valentines Day everyone!
This is a bit dark...and not very well written or explained, but I hope you like it anyways.
Please leave a review!
