There's a Slytherin in your bed!
Now, contrary to popular believes, Sirius Black was not a dumb man. Incredibly handsome, yes. But dumb, he was not! He knew that waking up his best friend on a Sunday—because they had Quidditch practice and he didn't want to go to the field alone, nor did he want to wake Remus—was a very dangerous thing to do. See, did he need anything else, he would've said: 'fuck you!' to his brain and he would've nudged his boyfriend's sides until the hot brunette woke up—but this was Quidditch. And Remus didn't like to be awoken for Quidditch. Okay, yes, James Potter was a dangerous man when you woke him up on a Sunday—but let's not forget that 1) it's close to the full moon and 2) Sirius wants to stay on Moony's good side because he's madly in love with the boy—which means he has to wake up James. He has no other choice! Really. Because James is scary, indeed he is—with his hair tangled, his eyes mismatched and his fingers twitching, he still has a remarkable good aim—but Remus, this close to the full moon is scarier. Because the boy can simply ignore Sirius for as long as he seems fit. And that's just too freaky for words!
So when Sirius wakes up—six on a Sunday! Is he insane?—he realises it's the day he might be dying. It doesn't affect him too much. Although Sirius isn't usually and earl-Sunday person, he is a morning person sometimes—and that overruled the part where he isn't an early-Sunday person, so he could just be a Sunday-morning person, and it would be okay. It had something to do with the fact that he had a constant sugar-rush—even though Remus forbade him to eat sugar at all, actually. All he needed was a nice snuggle from his ultra-hot boyfriend, and a splash of water in his face. And then tada! There was happy Sirius Black.
He nuzzled Remus behind his ear, making the boy stir slightly, and pecked his lips before pushing the blankets away. He was the only one up—but it didn't surprise him. He and James were the only ones that played Quidditch, anyways. Tiptoeing over to the bathroom went well, he was actually silently tiptoeing, which was an accomplishment in itself—he wasn't a silent person. Not even when he tiptoed. After splashing his face with water he reminded himself of the unfortunate task at hand—James needed to be awoken.
Sirius inhaled deeply, pulled up his pyjama-shorts—they were riding low on his hips, and that wasn't too useful if you needed to run—and patted his own chest for good luck. Well, here it goes. He tripled over to the end of James' bed and stilled. It was now or never.
Carefully pulling the curtains away, he called for his best friend to wake up.
"Jamey-boo," he cooed, hoping cooing would put the brunette in a good mood. "Jamey-boo, wake up."
Pushing the curtains further apart he grinned slightly. There was a huge lump under the blankets, and a tuff of raven-black hair sticking out from above. The lump moved a bit, and James' feet emerged from under the blankets.
"Jamey, it's Quidditch time," Sirius tapped his fingers against the wood of the old four-poster. "Move your arse."
The lump moved once more, and a hand came out from under it—Sirius frowned, though not too much, since he was still a bit sleepy and so much effort went into frowning. The hand was very... un-James-like. It was slender and pale, with long graceful fingers. After that there was suddenly blonde hair surfaced and now, that's just over top—Sirius was quite sure that James did not have blonde hair. Someone grunted and steel grey eyes flexed him a look—but James' eyes weren't grey!
"Go away Black," the voice was cold but rather tired—yet Sirius could still easily distinguish who it was. "We're sleeping."
"Lucius?" Sirius shrieked, jumping back a bit—his best friend's bed was overtaken by the evil-minded Slytherin! What was he supposed to do now!
"Siri, go away," James voice murmured, pulling back the blankets to reveal his slumber-stricken face. He growled unhappily—but Sirius didn't think about ducking so when James muttered an evil-minded cure, sticking out his wand, the red spark just barely missed Sirius' head, splintering a bit off Sirius' four-poster instead. "It's too early." He raised his wand-hand again, but Lucius pulled it down, throwing the wand across the room—probably afraid the disorientated brunette might do him harm too.
"B—but Jamey!" Sirius' eyes grew a bit—he didn't even want to fuss about the fact that his best friend had nearly blew his head off—and he searched his pockets for his own wand, until he realised he was wearing sleeping-shorts, and those don't have pockets. "There's a Slytherin in your bed," Lucius glared, stroking some of the long blonde hair out of his face. James pulled the blanket closer to his body, huddling in it, and Sirius could see Lucius bare hip, realising that... "A naked Slytherin at that!" He pointed at the blonde's hip, and James grumbled.
With one quick move he flopped over onto the Slytherin's body—making the boy gasp—and covered his naked body. His blanket slipped away, and Sirius noticed that—oh yes—James too, was naked.
"Don't stare at his nakedness!" James protested childishly, burying his head in Lucius' neck. The blonde wrapped his arms around James' waist and Sirius felt like dropping death—he refrained. "I don't watch your boyfriend when he's naked!"
"Bu—but... there—there's..." Sirius faltered, and went back to staring dumbly at the two.
Lucius closed his eyes again, and James cuddled closer, still being on top of the other's body. How was it that this was happening? How could this be? When had they suddenly decided that sleeping in a bed with a naked Slytherin was perfectly acceptable? Where was Sirius when that happened! Huh! And since when did James sleep with naked boys, anyway? Sirius started tapping his foot fiercely, ready to demand some answers, now, when suddenly a third voice called.
"Padfoot—what are you doing?" He recognised it to be Remus', and wondered why the boy was awake, though it was probably his fault—oh no, hopefully he wasn't too grumpy, otherwise the attacks on Sirius' live would never end.
Lucius opened his eyes again, smiling briefly, when Sirius felt warm arms envelope him.
"Why are you waking James and Lucius? Come back to bed." Remus whispered in his ear, and Sirius felt a shiver crawl down his spine—oh, Remus was definitely half-naked, and that was always good. But... wait. What?
"You knew?" He blurted out.
"James told us two months ago," Remus kissed his shoulder. "Now let them be. It's too early."
"Bu—but..." Sirius protested, though he couldn't help leaning back slightly against Remus' shoulder. "It's... we have Quidditch-practise."
Lucius frowned, and James moved, yawning slightly. They pulled he blankets over their bodies again, and James muttered a spell, closing the drapes—Sirius spluttered in protest. Then he felt Remus chuckle against his shoulder.
"Love, Quidditch practise is on Sunday," he kissed the shoulder again. "Today's Saturday."
"Oh, Goddammit!" And Remus just laughed again, pulling his pouting boyfriend back to bed—he might not be a Slytherin, but he had one or two sneaky ways to lure Sirius back into happiness.
Fin.
AN: Oh well, Goddammit. This is just... shee. I should be ashamed of myself. How dare it write such utter and complete nonsensical rubbish? God. I'm evil.
