james/lysander, wishful thinking, set by currents
standalone


It's the steady curve of his shoulder. The baseline of his pulse. The fact of his breathing. All the hardy heat of him, flickering in and out James' vision like stars.

They learned the word asymptote when they took Muggle mathematics to sixth year. Five of them in a dusty classroom, Lysander flopped out over his desk and James watching as the teacher drew lines and curves on the board. Asymptote. A line that can only meet the curve at infinity. From the Ancient Greek ἀσύμπτωτος, to mean not falling together.

Lysander only kept on with maths because they threatened to expel him if he didn't pick some subject other than Care Of, and James only kept on with maths because Lysander kept on. Wishful thinking drawing him in.

James likes maths now, though. He wouldn't have words for whatever this is without it. (This: James' fingers reaching for but not touching the single dark curl at the nape of Lysander's neck. This: Lysander standing behind James just a little closer than he should. This: a line and a curve in orbit, doomed to meet only at infinity.)

James doesn't believe much in infinity. So he sits in maths and listens to Lysander breathe and tells himself, pulse hammering, that this is enough. Curving towards, not falling together.