One More Night

Disclaimer: HP characters are on loan from the genius of JK Rowling.

Summary: James Potter and his friends opted for an ill-timed bachelors' party a fortnight before James' wedding. Neither he nor Sirius would ever forget it. Warning: YAOI content.

Dedication: For Pollux, who is half my world. Hahaha.


Histories aren't made overnight as friendships aren't proven just by the test of time. James, Sirius, Remus and Peter must've been friends for infinity and counting but that doesn't mean that each has gone through enough lengths to be able to read every thought that runs through each of their shrewd minds. And while their common secrets may have laid the foundation for their closeness to one other, such shared secrets, one has to admit, are sometimes not enough or even justifiable.

Sirius Black is a man of untamed grace, always lavished with attention he either deserves or not. His looks have that kind of beauty that a lifetime's dedication on his friends' part would never achieve and for this, it might be said with certainty, he is the object of many a man's envy and unnumbered women's unquestioned admiration. His disposition projects no less fascination; his heart, by all accounts, is hardly owned. Which is a small comfort to his army of fans within or beyond Hogwarts. At twenty, Sirius is remarkably disinterested in the opposite sex (or perhaps he is just widely disinterested in anything that barely concerns him). His problem doesn't lie in his lack of charms, but in its excess.

James Potter is nearly an entirely different case. While not exactly handsome, his looks are of possible appreciation, if not merely an acquired taste. He has an almost dictatorial command on his environment; whatever he wills, happens. Also charming to a fault, he easily overturns any circumstance to his favor; for instance, having finally won the heart of the most coveted girl in school, albeit with considerable difficulty. Apart from that, his talents shouldn't go unnoticed and his cleverness simply rivals that of his best friend and best man, Sirius.

Of the four, Remus Lupin is the easiest to love. In many ways the most mature of the gang, he is often drawn to responsibilities where studies were concerned. In mischief, however, he was never in the backseat. At times cunning, oftentimes intelligent, he is the only credible testimony against the uncounted accusations Filch the Caretaker had so painstakingly heaped upon their group. The only thing that kept him from a post at the Ministry, the other three would go on to say, is his "little furry problem". Otherwise, he rose to all occasions.

Peter Pettigrew is the odd one. Back at school, he was the one who habitually fell short of expectations. Unlike his friends, he is perennially at a falter, always needing reinforcement where matters of decision are concerned. Bumbling along the path of self-discovery, he finally found three great friends who would accept him for what he is, and who, in the days to come, would help him find himself. He is a gentleman in his own right, a laughter-loving little crackpot who would never miss a round of jokes if his life depended on it.

The word harmony would never suffice to explain what makes this gang possible, nor would plain sight do justice to what they are willing to sacrifice for one another. After nine years of blissful togetherness, remaining inseparable still is the watchword, and this has never been made more apparent than in the case of Sirius and James' relationship. As when Sirius asked James to a last-minute Bachelor's Party (to honor the latter's last days as single), despite the hazards it might result in, James simply said yes and added, as an afterthought, that it was a brilliant idea.

The plan was easily carried out. It should be celebrated two weeks before James' wedding to Lily took place. Apart from the best friends, Remus and Peter would be the only guests. Their venue was some vague pub in the outskirts of a Muggle town in London, where, as Sirius claimed, the Ministry doesn't meticulously keep watch. It was low profile, to the point of ramshackle-ness, and shady; it was perfect, in other words.

When Peter inquired of Sirius as to what happens at a bachelor's party, Sirius merely smirked, deciding to give nothing away, shook his head and said, "You'll see." Peter smiled uncertainly then, trusting the other as he had always done in the past. Whatever it was, it should be fun. He would be with Sirius every step of the way.

Remus, who on principle questioned every plan Sirius came up with--sound or otherwise, however, took a different view. "You do know that this jeopardizes Lily's trust in James?" he said with a less-than-amused frown. Sirius shrugged, arguing something along the lines of "for the sake of having fun." Remus gave in in the end, hoping that nothing would be at stake.

Thus, on that fateful night, the four friends entered the venue. It was a sullen and dark night, stars peering shyly between the clouds, winds making themselves felt only by the coldness they brought along with them. Just then, caution evaporated in the air. Once inside the building, Sirius winked at the wizened barman as what sounded like a lame rock song fluttered all around. The lights shifted, assuming different colors and hues, scattering on the floor with all kinds of shapes and sizes. Sirius led them to a long couch in the middle of the room.

"I rented the place. Had it arranged with the owner a couple of days back." Sirius said proudly.

"So that explains the privacy." James replied. "Why choose a Muggle background though?"

"Don't wanna be spotted, I guess. I had a tough time bargaining so better appreciate it as much as possible." Sirius snapped, though it was a bit hard not to doubt the gist of the statement; was Sirius, at any point in his life, capable of having a tough time?

"Okay, mate, just asking." James said, smiling, perhaps fascinating himself with Sirius' risk-taking.

"James, what did you tell Lily?" It was Remus who spoke, his face streaked with a very adult-looking seriousness which to every one around him looked extremely inappropriate for his almost teeny features.

"A good excuse, I'm sure…" James muttered quietly, faltering.

Sirius smirked again and meeting Remus' dubious glance, said, "Nothing on you, mate. Anyhow, shall we help ourselves?" He nodded at the long table at the opposite side of the room on which a variety of bottles sat, inviting, it seemed, any chance onlooker who'd most likely be lured by the whiffing scent of fresh alcohol.

Nearly gradually and reluctantly, all three other than Sirius proceeded to the fated direction. James, having until then been suspicious as to the content of such unfamiliar beverage, lost all restraints as he watched his best friend empty a quarter of a decanter in one gulp and consequently lolled, "I think this is what they call Martini. It's kinda good but inferior to White Russian…" Sirius didn't finish and went on to assault a perfectly clear liquid near the edge of the table. James opted for a bubbly and pee-colored drink that was encased in a squat bottle. Close to its bottom read "250 ml". James didn't bother to find out what it meant, however.

"You might not want to mix that with anything else. It gave me a major puke the other day." Sirius appraised him wisely. James tipped his tongue on the open lid and felt a mixed sensation of disgust and challenge as the strength of the flavor revealed itself to him. His cheek twisted, at which Sirus laughed out loud, telling him that he'd soon get the hang of it. Not to be outdone, James downed the whole thing. He burped, forgot to excuse himself for the foregone etiquette and studied his feelings. It wasn't half bad, and the aftertaste, if anything, was nothing short of exhilarating. What he mistook for a few drop quantities traveled down his throat then, again and again, until he could almost feel his consciousness slipping in drastic proportions away from him. Same might probably hold true for his other friends, Remus and Peter, who were now supine somewhere in the separated corners of the room, Peter drooling and snoring and Remus gracefully on his back like a beaten feline. The hilarity of the sight could've elicited a loud roar from a particular witness, had not all four been alone in such a scene. And Sirius, he might as well have been the largest contributory agent to said comic segment, for he was now swinging all across the room like a manic pendulum. Once in a few while he would utter in a considerable amount of volume some snatches of a rock wizard song, his notes mingling and producing a horrible medley of some sort.

James felt like giving it his hardest guffaw, but almost simultaneously caught himself unable to manufacture the least intelligible comment. Some wave of strangeness was physically washing over him, like heat or a gigantic brush of feathers. Whatever it was, it felt good, acute to a certain degree but all in all, good indeed. He forced to heave himself up to no purpose. He wangled himself toward Sirius who seemed to be beckoning him for help or something else. His gaits were no better than the havoc-ridden ones Sirius was taking and now, as a catastrophic result, there were two uncontrolled pendulums crisscrossing the room.

At one point, they found each other. Like ill-starred lovers newly reunited, their arms met, connected and entwined in what other definitions must state passionately. From a passive third person perspective, it was hard to tell what was going on between two of the world's closest friends, except that they might know only little or not at all about what they were doing. Sirius, or perhaps it was James, likely both, pulled the other closer, leaving half an inch of invisible particles to serve as partition between their otherwise knocked-out faces. Then, destiny joked with hidden possibilities and made both friends do the unthinkable.

Their lips met and in the act, one could've sworn that the other's willingness solely depended on the thought that the act itself was mutual. None could've doubted it, either way, for the passion wasn't just apparent; it was earnest. Who could tell that James was on the brink of hallucination, that he was in fact imagining Sirius to be Lily? Who could tell that the effect of such alcohol on Sirius was unpredictably outlandish that it'd induce him to commit this kind of act? But then, who'd say the reverse? A more reasonable person might argue that both were conscious of what they were engaging in, that in all truths, James knew he was kissing Sirius and Sirius knew that he was kissing James. James had never made out with anyone this way; as for Sirius, he seemed to have reserved this passion for this particular occasion alone. For the manner in which they carried it on seemed too harsh for any woman to endure, its torridness too great.

In that act, of course, nothing was more obvious than awareness. Awareness of its participants, the circumstances, the magnitude. This night might as well be their last opportunity to let their feelings show in the surface. Needless to even say, it was also their first. Such a night would require nothing less than impossibility to repeat itself and both knew this in its entirety.

They let go after a few moments had elapsed, each more sober than when they'd started. They held each other in their glances long enough to engender a sort of understanding, an oath to secrecy. Then, almost unbelievably casually, Sirius proposed,

"I'll get Remus up; take care of Peter." He looked at the clock on the wall. "Our rent will expire in a few minutes." James did as he was told without a word.

They cleared out of the place at four past midnight, Muggle time. Sirius knew that there existed a non-magical drink that'd bring Remus and Peter back the consciousness that was rightfully theirs; he was sure it was called coffee. However, no matter how many coffee shops they'd passed by on their way back to the Wizarding World, Sirius wouldn't raise his head or even think twice about getting in. They went on silently, resembling a solemn procession in homage to that one beautiful piece of eternity in time, Remus on his broom and Peter on James'. This was what he wanted to live for, fight for, and die for; this tangible concept of togetherness in friendship. He and James would never part, in spirit or in mind. Likewise, all four of them would constitute a part of each other's whole; none could go on with one missing.

Having put things thus, the kiss bound Sirius to James, and vice versa, in a stronger way than Sirius or James would ever be bound to either Remus or Peter. This was what's been made clear long after James had perished, and Sirius remained. This was clear even in the death of Sirius and his long-sought reunion with James. Indeed, a stretched gulf may seem beyond measure, but not so where love and friendship are concerned.

END