Please see my author page for my SLASH POLICY. All flames must be coherent.
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PADFOOT and PRONGS
Drabbles depicting the relationship between Sirius and James; for various challenges, requests, archives, etc.
Also archived at the SiriusxJames Yahoo! Group.
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RAIN
Rating: PG
The drearily soft, yet keenly poignant rain that falls seems to foreshadow what is to come tonight.
You are soaking wet by the time you reach my doorstep, fringe plastered to your forehead by the rain that has caught in your dark hair. The pungent scent of rainwater permeates throughout, and the only thing sharper is the intense look in your eyes, the raw hurt and need. Your lips, dry and chapped, remain resolutely still, and though you have come thus far, not a word of appeal passes through your mouth; it is left up to me to discern the trembling plea in your gaze, and, as suddenly I realize what you are doing here and why you have come, I curse your silly pride.
Quickly, I lead you inside by the hand and wrap a warm blanket around your shivering shoulders, pressing soft, gentle kisses on the side of your face all the while.
RESURRECTION
Rating: PG-13 for non-explicit sex
When Sirius blinks, his eyes feel heavy, as if he has not done so for a long time—funny, because he can't remember ever closing them in the first place.
When James blinks, it is with surprise, sorrow, and heartbreak, because although he knows that those who emerge from the Veil do not do so unscathed, he also knows that his (former?) lover's brief sojourn Beyond could not have resulted in the translucent pale hue of Sirius' skin, nor the haunted cast of blue eyes or the time-worn hollows of high cheekbones, too thin in their ascetic glory.
When Sirius sees James for the first time in almost fifteen years, his mouth falls open and his breath catches, and he is so swept up in the happiness, the sheer glory of it all, that he forgets to ask how James is alive, or how he himself is even alive (they are alive, right?).
When James learns of Sirius' sufferings, his twelve years in Azkaban, seeking shelter in the cold hollows of caves, trapped in his living nightmare of a childhood home, the one that James swore that Sirius should never lay eyes on again, he cannot stand it anymore, and cries, trails of moisture running down his cheeks, only to be lovingly brushed away by the soft fingers of his (not former) lover.
When Sirius and James make love again, they give new meaning to the phrase 'the first time', and neither bothers to stop kissing the other, or to explain it all to Harry, who is gaping with a most comical expression.
ASPHYXIATION
Rating: PG
It amuses Sirius to no end, at first, when James buys a goldfish and plops its home right in the middle of their shared dormitory, small and comical in its glass bowl that sits on the nightstand between Sirius' and James' beds. It is cute, he thinks, how James Potter the boy who has so much everything, can find simple pleasures in such a thing as simple as the tiny creature who lives in a bowl on a table, the dear sweet soul.
He watches silently, seamed into the air and walls as James cares for his dear pet, the little animal whose tail wags cutely as it eats, and watches the smile that spreads of James' face, the purity of one who knows not of death and pain and heartbreak, but of flowers and quills and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.
The other boy's innocence is so endearing, in an unconscious way; he faithfully changes the fish's water, dutifully sprinkles fit amounts of food into the glass bowl. James does not seem to realise that there is anything more important, more severe than this, and Sirius, careful to hide the bruises that he returns with every summer from vacation, cannot find the heart to tell him.
Oh, how Prongs' naïveté circles tautly around his neck.
He wonders if James would ever be that loving with him, care for him so tenderly and warmly, eyes sparkling guileless and hazel, and Sirius almost fancies that they are gold, like the fish.
And the yearning, ripping sensation wraps firmly around his midriff like a corset and he can feel the laces been drawn tighter and tighter until he thinks he will die from the suffocation.
BEAUTIFUL MORNING
Rating: PG
James Potter awoke, blinking groggily as bright shards of sunlight peaked through the hangings of his bed and lit into his eyes. Shaking the covers off his sprawled form, he ran a hand through his rumpled black hair and leaned over the edge of the mattress to reach for his shoes. He was just about to shove his left foot into one unlaced shoe when suddenly he remembered something.
Grinning as he swept away the curtains surrounding the four-poster bed next to his, he half-leapt, half-climbed onto the mattress, hoisting himself up so that he straddled his lover's sleeping form.
Sirius' eyelids fluttered open, blue eyes wide. "James."
James grasped Sirius's shoulders and kissed the other boy long and hard. Sirius blinked a few times in surprise before parting his lips to allow James' tongue to explore his mouth. The two of them lay there in Sirius' bed, the unspoken passion heavy between them, and James didn't let go until he could no longer breathe. He pulled away slightly, panting as he stared at the boy in front of him, with pale high cheekbones and long dark hair, piercing blue-gray eyes and lips swollen slightly from the kisses. James stared, and he felt something pulling at his heart as he silently admired his lover's ascetically beautiful features.
"Well... Happy Valentine's Day to you, too," Sirius murmured, pulling James back down for another kiss.
BLURRED VISION
Rating: PG-13 for attempted suicide
James hated him.
He supposed it oughtn't to have mattered as much as it did, not with everything else that had happened. He was still asking himself how he could have been that stupid, how he could have given in to Snape's (Snape, of all people!) taunting, how he could have betrayed his closest friends, his only family... he felt a strange wrenching sensation in his gut, almost like a disease that kept reminding him of his own stupidity...
And oh, how pained Remus had looked the next morning, the fresh scratches across his skin and arms, and likely other places too. Peter, little watching Peter had looked so apprehensive, more sombre but just as nervous as Sirius knew him to be.
But most of all, James. James hated him. And that mattered more than it should... because—oh God!—he was empty.
Without his love for James, he had absolutely nothing.
Inhaling quickly and sharply, he drew the knife in one swift motion across the fragile white of his wrist, hissing at the jets of pain that shot through his arm and skin, but at the same time sighing with relief as he felt his life begin to leave his body, the grey insensateness wrapping around his limbs.
His sight obscured, his eyes stinging with tears and pain as he made one more cut across the other wrist. Slowly, he eased his tired body down to the soft plush of the dormitory carpet, propping his steadily bleeding arms up on the points of his knees. His head was spinning, it was light...
The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the blurred vision of a black-haired hazel-eyed boy throwing open the door and screaming, "Sirius!"
IMBECILES
Rating: PG
Sirius blinked, once, then twice, and gingerly touched his fingers to his lips as if he couldn't believe what had just happened.
"I-I—s-sorry, I don't know what I was thinking... my God, I-I'll just—go now..." James babbled, feeling his own face flush red in embarrassment as he struggled for words, forcing them out of his mouth and willing everything to go away, to evaporate... he wished he could crawl into an obscure little hole somewhere and die... or better yet, that he had never been born... anything, really, was better than this thick, tense silence that draped over him and Sirius and, oh God, what was he going to do now when—
"Umf!" It was James' turn to be surprised, eyelids fluttering open as he felt Sirius' lips smash against his suddenly, a repeat of the impulsive kiss that had taken place just seconds before.
"You imbecile," the other boy said, grinning as he pulled away from his dumbfounded friend. "I love you, too."
REVERENCE
Rating: PG
Funny, how they said it was healthy to communicate with people and talk out one's problems... because it was when James Potter was not talking that he actually felt the most comfortable with himself.
When James Potter was talking, he sounded assured and self-confident, and some people even said arrogant, but when he was silent, he didn't have those standards, those tenets and their labels to uphold... it was quite liberating, really, he thought to himself as his restlessly curious eyes strayed over to the palely aristocratic profile of his best friend, all wild eyes and sharp cheeks and Grecian nose.
He wondered what the throng of pupils whom hero-worshipped him would think if they knew that the one whom he loved more than anyone else in the world was not some leggy blonde girl, but this very male, very unattainable epitome of human perfection.
"Prongs! Earth to Prongs!"
Startled, James jerked out of his trancelike state, having been caught unawares by the insistent tugging on his sleeve.
"Are you okay?" Remus whispered under his breath, leaning over slightly toward the dark-haired boy. "You looked really out of it for a moment..."
"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine—really, I-I am."
Reluctantly, James gave the object of his affections one last wistful look before facing forward again and putting his face back on. He would need it.
SEDATION
Rating: R
"You sure about this?" He had meant to sound caringly concerned, but the hitch in his breath and the light flush in his face betrayed the barely-restrained excitement that flooded his body in anticipation of what was to come.
From below him, Sirius smiled archly. "Why not?" he asked breathily, letting his eyes flutter closed in a sensual flicker of long black lashes. He rested his head back into the plush pillows cushioned behind him, giving an almost-lazy sigh that was really more of an invitation. "Tonight," he informed, reminded gently, "you are in control."
Feeling the hearty thump against his ribcage, James ground further into his lover's hips, and with one fluid motion, worthy of an athlete, he clasped the cold silver circles shut, and Sirius' thin pale wrists were neatly handcuffed to the bed post.
THE FIRST TIME
Rating: PG-13 for implied sex
Their kiss was long, hard and sweet, full of unspoken passion hanging heavy around the draping curtains of the bed and the crisp sheets, so cool against sweaty skin, embracing the two boys almost as fiercely as they embraced each other, each clutching the arms, legs, hands of his companion as if to let go would be to lose the other forever...
When finally the heady spell shattered and the pair broke apart, gasping for air, Sirius looked into the hazel eyes of his long-time crush, now-lover, and asked, "How long?"
James did not need to ask what the other was speaking of. "Forever," he said plainly and truthfully. "It was one day... I don't even know what happened... I just remembered that you were playing the guitar in the common room, that first time, and I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen."
Sirius smiled at the simple beauty of his lover's words. "Oh, Prongs," he breathed, resting his head against James' chest. "I remember—it was your thirteenth birthday."
THE IDES
Rating: PG-13 for implied sex
It would have been far too melodramatic for him to give a melancholy sigh, so James contented himself by exhaling sharply as he traced his fingers lightly over the thin vellum of the dainty calendar sitting on his nightstand, a little stationery-store type artefact that had been a gift from Lily.
Lily, with her long, dark red hair and green eyes, who was pretty and clever and kind and—
'—and not Sirius.'
The tip of his index finger stopped at a halt on one square near the centre of the numbered grid.
The fifteenth of March.
The Ides.
Sirius' birthday.
'Think of Lily, think of Lily...'
The anniversary of Sirius and James' relationship.
'Bright, flashing green eyes and smooth skin and curves and...'
The day that he and Sirius had broken up, for good. The day that James said that he was no longer able to make that commitment, that they no longer worked as a couple, that he was moving on, that it had meant nothing...
And that he wanted Lily instead.
But God, oh God, how he hated that day now, how it seared in his memory, how he wanted to take back every hurtful thing he had ever said and make things right again and hold Sirius to him, feel that angle and muscle and bone under the palms of his hands and stroke that beautiful soft black hair that no girl's shampooed crop could ever rival, and at that moment, James wanted nothing more than to take his lover ('former lover'—wistfully) in his arms, to hug him and kiss him and lay with him, cool white sheets wrapped around their bodies...
And it hurt so, so much, more than anything he had ever felt before, because even as he let his mind drift away and fantasize of a here and now with the one he loved, he knew that he could never go back to that.
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