See you all next Saturday at our regularly scheduled time x


The amount of time that James spent thinking about Lily over the next few weeks was, honestly, probably a little embarrassing.

And he didn't even have enough work to keep him busy. Outside of making sure that the last minute details for the referendum were coming together, the impending holiday ensured that he had a full two weeks of mostly uninterrupted free time. No matter how much he tried to use that time to catch up on a lot of the things that had been set a bit further down his to do list — finally responding to some of his correspondence, actually talking to his parents on the phone for more than ten minutes at a time — it still wasn't enough to keep him busy.

He had things to do, but he wasn't busy, and when he wasn't busy, his mind was free to wander and, good god, did it always seem to wander the same direction these days.

He just couldn't get Lily out of his head. The bright, easy way she laughed. Her silly, almost meandering way of telling stories. The look in her eyes after she'd kissed him.

Well, kissed his cheek.

He just couldn't get any of it out of his head.

She was there in the back of his mind as he slashed his signature across hundreds of Christmas cards — something Margot had insisted was a complete waste of his time but he'd been adamant that people would know if they'd used a stamp and he needed something mindless to do while he watched Big Fat Quiz anyway — she was there when he was giving interviews (not the safest, he'd admit) and when he was reading through the various reports that were now rolling into his office.

No matter what he did, his mind was always a little preoccupied with her. What she was doing, whether or not she was having a nice holiday, whether or not she was getting the rest that she so obviously deserved because hopefully things had calmed down for her like they had for him.

It was weird knowing someone that he wasn't able to just… call or text or email. He had literally no way of being in touch with her — unless he was going to figure out how to find a magical owl and, though the thought had crossed his mind once or twice at three in the morning, he recognised the absurdity of it no matter how appealing it had seemed at the time — and that was, probably, why he started spiralling out in his head so much.

He honestly just missed chatting with her. Missed her laugh. Her stories. Missed that way she looked at him when he was being particularly cheeky and she was trying not to laugh but she couldn't quite help it.

God, he loved making her laugh.

This morning was of much the same theme as the last two weeks — he brought some report or another to breakfast and he sort of read it and tried to pretend that he wasn't thinking about Lily — but, for once, he was finding that last bit a touch easier than usual this morning.

Sirius had popped over for breakfast this morning, which was nice because they hadn't been seeing as much of each other since he'd started this job, and within two seconds of sitting down — a massive fry up in front of him — Sirius was already ranting at full speed.

And maybe it was rude to be reading a report while Sirius was over, but James had to have something to read through or he was going to completely lose touch with reality.

Still, he was two seconds into reading the report from the Treasury he'd brought to breakfast that morning (Under the Terrorist Asset-Freezing etc. Act (TAFA 2010), the Treasury is required….), before his mind started to wander again.

He wondered what she was doing right now. If she was enjoying this, honestly, really beautiful morning or if she was sitting in her office — which, she'd told him once, was underground — wading through some report or another.

He was sure that he knew the answer, but he hoped that she was out just… enjoying her morning. Maybe sitting outside with a cup of tea and just looking at the sky. And once he started thinking along those lines, he found himself wishing that he could be there with her, sitting in her kitchen that, despite being a mystery to him, he'd somehow manufactured in his head, cups of tea in their hands, looking out the window and just sitting quietly together or maybe softly chatting about something or another, something easy, like quidditch and silly charms and school and growing up —

God, he was lovesick.

'James.'

James' head snapped up and his eyes found Sirius' across the table. Sirius was sitting there, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, and an absolutely insufferable expression on his face.

Classic.

James looked back down at the report he was reading ("reading") and drew a line under a random sentence. 'What?'

'Did you hear anything I said?'

James sighed heavily and turned over the report and ran his eyes over the chart on the back. 'Of course I did. You're literally impossible to ignore.'

Sirius leant back on the chair and adjusted the cross of his arms. 'Then what've I said?'

'First of all, put the chair legs down —'

'Okay, Mum.'

'And second, you were banging on about what a crime it is that Idris Elba is straight and asking me who I'd need to bribe to make sure he's the next Bond because you "need to see him running, basically naked, out of some waves or you'll literally die," and, just now, you were saying that you saw this "absolutely gorgeous" man at the club the other night and it was "dreadfully inconvenient" that people know you're my brother because it means you can't misbehave in public anymore because then you end up in the papers and "not even in a fun way".' James' eyes flicked up to Sirius'. 'Have I missed anything?'

'Yes.' Sirius tipped his chin up as he picked up his tea. 'You missed the fact that I was going to buy that gorg floral crop top from H&M but then Trev said that it made me look like a cheap JVN knock off and then I literally cried about it for a week.'

James snorted and looked back down at his papers. 'That happened yesterday. You can't've cried for a week.'

'Well, I exerted the same amount of emotional energy, which basically amounts to the same thing.'

'You and I both know that's bollocks.' James underlined another, this time slightly less random, sentence in his report.

James thought Sirius might press him on that, but he was apparently going to let that go.

'What are you pretending to read anyway?'

James glanced up at Sirius. 'A report from the Chancellor of the Exchequer. And I'm not pretending.'

Sirius snorted. 'Yeah, alright.'

James looked up at him. 'It's a TAFA Quarterly Report.'

Sirius smirked. 'Riveting.'

James rolled his eyes. 'Not everything I read is exciting.'

'Nothing you read for this job is exciting. Not that it matters because you aren't even reading that report anyway.'

'I — Sirius, I am.' He sounded like he was defending himself against one of his old school teachers and James knew, the moment he'd taken that tone, that he'd lost.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at him. 'Please. You've got that sad little James face on and you're twirling that pen around in your hand. That's not how you look when you read.'

'How do you know what I look like when I read?'

Sirius rolled his eyes. 'Everyone knows what you look like when you're reading. You get all frowny and you hunch over the paper and you've got the damn pen in a death grip and you keep muttering to yourself. I saw you like that for, like, months at a time before exams. You think I'm likely to forget that?'

'Why would you remember that?'

Sirius waved his hand. 'Because you're too intense. It's gross. But anyway, stop distracting me. What are you thinking about, because it sure as shit isn't the freezing of terrorist assets?'

'Well, actually, we froze £70,000 pounds-worth of —'

Sirius held up his hand. 'I don't care. You don't care. And I'm going to get this out of you anyway, so you might as well just tell me.'

James looked back down at the report and started twirling his pen absently. 'Though it was calculated using the exchange rate from the 30th of September, so I'm not sure —'

'James.' Sirius' tone was just this side of actually whining and James knew that he would have stomped his foot if they'd been standing.

'I just —' James dropped his pen onto the table and reached up to run his hand through his hair. 'Honestly, Sirius, I'm just thinking about work.'

'Lies.'

'What?! How do you — how would you even know that?'

Sirius drew a circle in the air around James' head. 'That's not your work face.'

'For fucks sake.'

'Look,' Sirius picked up his tea and took a quick sip. 'You want to keep all this,' he drew his mug in some vague shape in James' direction, 'inside your little head? Fine. Drive yourself round the twist about it and then come talk to me in a week like you always do. I'm just laying out the red carpet for you right now so we can skip all your usual nonsense.'

James crossed his arms. 'I don't have usual nonsense.'

Sirius snorted. 'Please. You get all Byronic hero and it's so annoying.'

'I do not!'

'Whatever. Are you ready now or should I put you in my diary for next week?'

'I —'

He should talk about it. Lily. Maybe.

But what was there to talk about, really? They were colleagues — friends at best — and so there was nothing to really talk about except for the fact that he'd decided — or his heart had decided — that he liked her. That he liked her a lot. But they were colleagues and so he didn't really even need to talk about this with Sirius because he was just going to remain cool and calm and professional.

Or he was going to remain at least one of those things.

And anyway, how would he talk about Lily with Sirius anyway? As far as anyone knew, James hadn't been meeting with anyone outside his normal schedule and, as Sirius well knew, James hadn't really left Number 10 since he'd moved into the damn place, and so where was he supposed to have met her?

Sirius wouldn't care that James would have met her through work — hell, he probably would have encouraged it because "it's just so naughty, James", but then he'd have to come up with some back story for her — where she worked, what she did, how they met — and that, really, was the wrench in it all.

Because, as far as Sirius was concerned, Lily didn't exist.

Nothing about her — her world, her magic, her beautiful smile — existed.

How was he supposed to explain that?

James sighed. 'I hate you.'

Sirius smirked and took another sip of his tea. 'Join the club, honey.'

James rolled his eyes. 'Trev was right. You are a JVN knock off.'

Sirius' jaw actually dropped and James immediately burst out laughing. 'God, I want a picture of your face. I want it framed over my desk downstairs.'

'You are mean. And awful. And I'm not your brother anymore.'

James just carried on laughing and Sirius crossed his arms. 'I mean it. I was never formally adopted anyway, so it's all very easy to cancel.'

James shook his head and started stacking the papers on the table into a neat stack. 'Oh, relax, posho.'

Sirius frowned. 'I'm not a posho.'

James smirked up at him. 'Mhmm.'

'Whatever. You don't want to talk about your straight boy feelings today? Fine. I'll be here in a week when they've finally gotten to be too much for you and you crack.'

'How do you know that's going to happen?'

Sirius shot him a look. 'Do you remember Kacie in Year Eleven? When you were all "Sirius",' Sirius dropped his voice low in what was, apparently, supposed to be an imitation of James, '"I don't like Kacie! We're just mates!" and then you came to me, like, a week later, crying about how funny she was and how good she smelled?'

James felt his face heat and he picked up his cup of tea to buy himself a moment.

'I was fifteen. Leave me alone.'

'I'm just saying.' Sirius smirked. 'This,' he drew a circle around James' head again. 'This is just like that.'

James crossed his arms. 'How do you know this is about a woman anyway?'

Sirius rolled his eyes and titled his head back to finish off his tea. 'Please. You're only a mess when it comes to women. You're annoyingly composed when it comes to everything else.'

James touched a hand to his chest. 'Is that a compliment?'

Sirius groaned as he pushed up from the table and grabbed his plate. 'Shut up. No.'

James just hummed knowingly as Sirius stalked off into the kitchen and, after smiling smugly to himself for a moment, he grabbed his own dishes and followed suit.


Despite having successfully avoided getting into it all with Sirius the other day at breakfast, the mere suggestion that James was obsessing (well, the suggestion from someone other than James himself who knew, quite well, that he was obsessing) was enough to send him into a full death spiral.

Because he hadn't really thought about it all before, hadn't needed to add dimension to it when it was just him and Lily in his office. He hadn't needed to complicate it because it was complicated enough, wasn't it, the fact that they were leading parallel governments that were nudging ever closer to something that, from the way Lily sometimes talked about it, could be all out war.

It was complicated enough without having to add in that additional factor. The one where she technically didn't exist.

Though that wasn't entirely accurate was Lily was concerned. Her parents weren't magical, so she'd have been registered. She had an NHS number. Had gone to regular primary school. He had no idea what would've happened to her records — or how someone hadn't figured out that she wasn't attending school after the age of eleven — but anyway, none of that was the point. The point was that, okay, she did technically exist, but that she, as she was, didn't.

The Lily who'd gone to Hogwarts and was an absolute cracker at Charms and Potions, the Lily who took on one of the hardest jobs she could after school, the one who gave so much of her life — as Auror, as Department Head, as Minister — to make things even a little better. That Lily — who worried even when she didn't show it, who was driven and clever and fucking hilarious — that Lily didn't exist.

Not by any verifiable measure, anyway.

Not that James was necessarily concerned with verifiable measures.

But still, he couldn't explain to Sirius that he was rapidly falling into an emotional hole over her. Because to explain it to Sirius was to get into all of it — mostly because Sirius always had a million questions but also because, once James uncorked, it was damn near impossible to shut the hell up again — and not only could he not get into it, he wasn't even ready to think through what it was that he was actually feeling yet.

And damn Sirius for being right, but James wasn't ready to apply logic to any of this yet. He just wanted to feel it for a minute. See if his gut couldn't sort things out.

Especially because, honestly, he had no idea where her head was at in all this.

It really couldn't have come at a more annoying time, this. It, of course, had waited until he'd had very little else to do — well, comparatively — before it unloaded itself on him and made it so that he had nothing better to do with his extra brain space than obsess over what Lily was thinking about him and their relationship — assuming they could call it that — and what, exactly, could even happen between them anyway. And, alright, he'd been thinking about her before, on and off, and it wasn't like he hadn't realised just how stunning she was ages ago — he'd been practically speechless that first night they met and it was only partially because of the fact that she was setting his damn desk on fire — but this was different.

Because he knew, now, that he was going to be seeing a lot more of her, and he thought — and maybe he was wrong — that maybe there was potential there. That maybe they'd keep seeing one another, even after wizards stopped trying to murder muggles in their houses in the middle of the night, that maybe they could be friends.

But then she'd kissed him and it was so close to being an actual kiss and she'd had a look in her eyes that had nearly knocked him flat and damn it all, he just couldn't think of anything else.

And then he remembered that minor detail of wizards trying to murder muggles in their houses in the middle of the night and everything went up in flames again.

He spent the next few days making sure that all the details for the 16th January vote had been pulled together — which mostly just meant that he was calling and emailing everyone else to make sure that their bits were done and then talking to the journalist of the day to try and push the message out. They ramped up ballot education, too, over this last week, and they knew that people weren't really paying attention to them right now — most people were still in post-Christmas food comas and could only pick their heads up off the sofa long enough to do some last minute organising for New Years Eve (a state he sympathised with and, honestly, was envious of) —but, paying attention or not, he needed to continue to push the message, because this three option ballot was confusing and he needed people to understand how the Electoral Commission would be counting ballots so that there was as little push back as possible.

He knew there was going to be push back — especially if Rees Mogg and his league of twats didn't get their way — but hopefully he could head a lot of it off with very clear instructions about how it was all going to unfold.

Hopefully.

He was in the middle of some such planning on New Years Eve — Sirius had invited him out and sworn that they'd have a "standard, boring night that not even the fucking Tories could hate you for", and, as tempting as that sounded, he really did have a few things that he needed to pull together before everything opened up properly on the 2nd of January. Sirius hadn't been happy about it — especially if his last text, why are you always so mean to me DOES OUR BROTHERHOOD MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?!, was anything to go by — but James had been working a little slower over the Christmas period than usual and so he hadn't gotten nearly as much done as he'd anticipated.

That was always the damn case, though, wasn't it, falling short of the incredibly high standards that he set for himself.

Though better that than not setting the standards high enough, he supposed.

So, instead of going out to some pub or party or whatever with Sirius, James was sat, once again, in his office late into the evening surrounded by stacks of mostly organised papers. And he was getting on, too — he might actually get to bed at a decent hour, or, you know, watch the New Years fireworks on telly — when the flames in his fireplace turned bright green and James nearly rocketed out of his chair in fright. As it was, he was still sitting in his seat when Lily stepped through the grate, his hand pressed to his chest, as he tried to get his frantic heartbeat to slow.

'Jesus christ.' He sounded breathless and he thought she might laugh at him, but she just frowned a little as she pulled out her wand and began cleaning her cloak.

'Sorry,' she said. 'I wasn't at work, so the portrait couldn't alert you.'

Said portrait huffed, annoyed, from the corner, but James and Lily both ignored him.

'It's fine, I just — wasn't expecting you. What are you doing here?' Embarrassingly delayed panic suddenly gripped him. 'Has something happened?'

'No, no,' she waved her hand, 'nothing like that. I just wanted a chat.' Lily seemed to falter for a moment before she took a deep breath and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. 'I — uh. I mean, I can leave if you're busy,' she said, her eyes scanning the stacks of paper across his desk.

'No.' He sounded more vehement than he'd intended and he took a small breath to try and get a handle on himself. 'No, you, uh,' he rose slowly up out of his chair, 'I'm not busy.'

She looked at his desk again and then raised an eyebrow at him. 'You're not?'

'I —' He glanced down at the paper all over his desk. 'Well, I was, but I was getting ready to take a break.'

She frowned. 'Were you actually?'

'Well, I am now, so what does it matter?'

Lily's frown deepened. 'I feel bad.'

James waved his hand as he walked out from behind his desk. 'Don't. I'm glad you're here.' He paused for a beat. 'I'm always glad when you're here.'

Lily apparently didn't have anything to say to that. They just stood across from each other, stock still. Staring.

James swallowed. Took a step forward. 'So what are you really doing here?'

She raised an eyebrow at him, her lips curling, just a bit, into a smile. But it was slightly forced, not at all like the light, easy smiles he was used to. 'I can't've just fancied a chat?'

'I didn't say that. I'm just saying that, this time, I think there's more to it than that.'

Her smile slid slowly off her face. 'What do you think there is to it, exactly?'

He shrugged one shoulder. 'I don't know, that's why I'm asking.'

Lily didn't say anything for a moment and, though James was tempted to fill the silence, to offer to make tea, to say anything else so they weren't just standing there, he was keen to see how long it would take to get her to answer. And, anyway, he'd learnt how to sit and wait people out. If Parliament had taught him one thing, it was that, sometimes, silence was much better than speech.

It was a lesson his mother probably wished he'd learnt decades earlier, but better late than never.

After another beat of silence, Lily looked down at her shoes. James' gaze followed and he watched as she shuffled her feet, scuffing her toe once, twice against the carpet.

'I just —' She planted her foot firmly and James saw her gaze flick up.

He trailed his eyes up over her, his gaze curving over her legs, her waist, her neck, before their eyes caught.

She exhaled hard. 'I missed you.'

James bit the corner of his lip, his eyes flicking to her mouth for a moment before he met her gaze again. 'I missed you, too.'

She took a small, tentative step forward. 'Is that weird? Missing you?'

He shook his head slowly. 'No weirder than my missing you.'

She hummed and took another step forward. 'Okay. Because I feel like it's weird. Possibly.'

Her voice was soft, breathy, and she hadn't ever sounded exactly like this before and she was looking at him with this intensity that he'd never seen, though he'd seen flashes of it, hints, the last time she was standing in his office, when she'd kissed him — nearly kissed him — as she was leaving.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and did his best to keep from shifting his weight nervously. 'Why would that be weird?'

She shrugged one shoulder and, when she stepped forward again, there was only a few feet between them. She watched him realise it, the closeness, and she trailed her eyes slowly over him.

She took a deep breath when their eyes met. 'Is this weird? Right now?'

He didn't need to ask, but he wanted to hear her explain it to him. Wanted to hear the words. 'What's happening right now?'

'I —' She took a breath. Took a step. 'I'm not sure.'

He raised an eyebrow at her. 'You're not?'

She bit the corner of her lip and shook her head. 'I was just thinking about you. I was sitting in my house and, uh —' She feel silent, her eyes on his.

'I was just thinking about you,' she said. 'I've been thinking about you a lot. Actually.'

'Have you?'

She nodded. 'Yeah.'

He hummed, a mildly interested sort of sound that, somehow, didn't betray any of the feelings starting to build in his gut. The want and the need and the ache filling him as he looked at her.

He wanted to ask her what she'd been thinking about — it was right there on the tip of his tongue — but there was something slightly nervous about her expression, an uncertainty, that gave him pause.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip and his eyes flicked, again, down to her mouth.

He took a small step forward. 'I've been thinking about you, too.'

'Really?'

He nodded. 'Also a lot.'

She breathed a laugh, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 'Well, I'm glad we're on the same page, then.'

He meant to grin, but the smile came out soft. Easy. Warm. 'Me, too.'

Neither of them moved for a moment. After a beat of silence, Lily took a soft breath.

'So, uh…'

James nodded slowly. 'So.'

She waited, apparently under the impression that he was going to say something else. When he didn't, when he just smiled and stuffed his hands further into his pockets, she frowned at him.

'You aren't going to make this easy on me, are you?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

She narrowed her eyes at him. 'Bollocks.'

He laughed then, and though she looked mildly annoyed, there was also a brightness to the way she was looking at him now, an energy that hadn't been there before.

'It was hard for me to come here, you know.'

James nodded. 'I'm sure it was.'

She frowned. 'And why's that?'

'You tend to keep things locked up, I think,' he said. He shifted a little closer to her and his arm lifted automatically like he was going to wrap it around her. He caught himself, though, just before, and lowered his arm back to his side. 'I imagine it's difficult, opening up.'

'And what sorts of things do you imagine I came her to open up about?'

He smiled, his eyes bright with a mixture of amusement and anticipation. 'You missed me.'

She scoffed, but the light in her eyes was impossible to miss. 'Don't let it go to your head.'

'Oh, it's too late for that, Evans.'

She rolled her eyes. 'I know it is, you big-headed prat.'

He barked a laugh then and her face lit up.

'But there's something else, too,' he said. 'That you're here for.'

She tipped her head to the side, just slightly. 'And what's that?'

He shook his head slowly. 'I want you to tell me.'

And for a moment, she just stood there. Didn't say anything, just held his gaze, and James watched as the slightest bit of color bloomed high on her cheeks, as her eyes, dark, vivid, startlingly green, tipped black.

Her eyes flicked down to his lips again for a long, suspended moment, before she met his gaze again.

'I suppose I fancy you as well.' She said it cheekily, her gaze tipped slightly towards the ceiling, but he knew, when her eyes found his again, that she meant it. That saying it out loud made her unbearably nervous, though, given that he knew his cards were completely on the table, he couldn't imagine what was so nerve-wracking about it.

Still, he couldn't resist messing with her a bit.

He raised an eyebrow at her, his mouth curling into a smile. 'Do you now?'

She nodded, and he thought she might tease him, might call him a prat because she knew that he knew perfectly well, but when she spoke her voice was soft, a little unsure. 'Yeah.'

He stepped forward, his hand moving automatically. He watched her carefully as he moved, studying her as his hand rested lightly on her hip, his fingers curling around her back. He brushed his thumb lightly up her side, just a bit, and Lily stepped even closer, her hands reaching up, tentatively, and resting on his chest.

'I take it you're alright with that, then,' she said. 'Me liking you.'

He nodded and when he spoke, his voice was a bit lower, a bit rougher with anticipation. 'Yeah. I'm definitely alright with it.'

He wasn't sure which one of them moved first — one of her hands slid up his chest and her fingers curled in the hair at the base of his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist — but the line of tension between them clearly snapped because before he even knew what was happening, Lily was pressed up against him, her mouth on his, and he felt, immediately, like a million tiny fires had been lit under his skin.

He spread his hands out over her back, one hand just brushing up against the ends of her hair, and she groaned against his lips as he pulled her against him so there wasn't a breath of space between them. And — fuck — it was amazing how they fit together, how good it felt as she threaded her fingers through his hair, how her body felt underneath his hands. He slid his hands over as much of her as he could reach — her shoulders, lower back, along her sides, over the curve of her hips, and the sides of her breasts — and he tried his best, through the fog in his brain, to memorise the sloping curves of her body because he needed to commit this, commit her, to memory.

He left one hand anchored firmly on her hip as he trailed the fingers of his free hand up her side, his fingers brushing along the side of her breast and catching on her collarbone before he ran his fingertips lightly up the side of her neck. She shivered and moaned softly into his mouth and —

Fuck, he nearly came undone.

He traced his thumb along the underside of her jaw and threaded his fingers through her hair. Her hair was soft, so incredibly soft, and then she traced her tongue along his lower lip, so lightly that he almost hadn't felt it at first, and he was — jesus christ, his heart was absolutely going to burst because he could not possibly carry on feeling all these things at once. He couldn't hold all this — this incredible need that was rapidly expanding in his chest and that was, at the same time, starting to reveal the depth of his feelings for her, the feelings that were heavy and solid and real

He couldn't hold this. It was scrambling at the edges of his brain as she kissed him, trying desperately to find a way out of him, and as much as he wanted to just let it all tumble out of him he thought, maybe, that he needed to keep a lid on it, on the insanity of it, for just a little bit longer.

But then she pulled her head back a bit, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright and her breathing heavy, and she looked at him with this look on her face that sent such a thrill through him that he was surprised he didn't pass out from the rush.

'You are really, really alright with this, I see.' Her lips hitched up into a teasing smile and James leant down and kissed her again, but lightly, his lips barely there over hers, so there was still just a touch of space between them.

'I like you, Evans.' He kissed the corner of her mouth, the side of her jaw. 'I like you so much.'

She sucked in a sharp breath as he kissed the side of her neck and turned her head just slightly. 'Do you?'

He hummed into her skin and pressed a kiss underneath her ear before he lifted up and caught her eye again. Her eyes were dark and she looked a little bit like she was in a haze, and damn if he didn't know the feeling.

'Yeah,' his voice was low and Lily ran her fingers over his shoulders, down his chest, as he spoke. 'I like you so fucking much.'

For an instant, neither of them moved. It was just James, looking at her, trying to communicate just how much he meant those words, and Lily, her eyes on his and her hands playing with the waistband of his trousers and —

He sucked in a breath, they both did, and then her mouth was on his again.

There was a new urgency to this kiss, a heat that he felt right down to his toes, and though he knew that this wasn't going any further tonight — that they weren't, despite what part of him now so desperately wanted, going to go upstairs and fall into his bed — he still let himself tip, just a bit, on the edge of his control.

He ran his hands down her neck, lingered along the sides of her breasts, slid his fingers along the waistband of her trousers and slipped his fingers up underneath her shirt and that first brush of his fingers up underneath her clothes very nearly killed him.

He wasn't even sure how he was standing at this point because there was literally no blood left in his head.

Lily fitted herself more tightly against him and groaned against his lips as their hips pressed together. And she had to know — he'd been trying to keep from pressing himself against her, but she'd gone and done it anyway — just how —

"Turned on" wasn't even enough to describe what he was feeling right now. And he was sure, not that he wanted to be thinking about Sirius right now, that Sirius would say it was because he was a sad, lonely old bachelor who hadn't been with anyone in years, and, alright, that was sort of true (though years was maybe a bit of a stretch because it made it sound so much more dramatic than it actually was) but it wasn't — it wasn't just that.

Things had been good before — he'd been, uh, satisfied — but this was… Lily was….

It had never been like this before. Like he just couldn't get enough of her and he wanted to know every single thing about her — if she had freckles on her shoulders like the ones smattered across her cheeks, what, exactly, would make her gasp, what she'd sound like when he was going down on her — and — just —

He'd never felt like this before. And it felt so fucking cliche to say it, but damn if it wasn't true.

'I — uhm.' She tilted her head back and James moved to press a kiss to the underside of her jaw. 'I should go. We — we probably shouldn't —' He kissed her pulse point and her sentence fell into a moan. 'Fucking hell.'

She wound her fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers.

The heat was still there, simmering in his chest and sparking between them, but this kiss was lighter now, a soft, gentle slide, and though he thought, maybe, that this was supposed to settle things down, ease them out of this, it wasn't even remotely working like that. Because with each soft pass of her lips against his, he felt the ache in his chest grow again and again until he felt like he couldn't breathe through it. Until she was everywhere — she was every single thought in his head and he could feel her, where her body had been or her hands had traced or where, most noticeably, she'd been absent, against his skin — and it was still soft, light, smooth, but this kiss was absolutely driving him out of his mind.

He pulled away this time, his breath coming in waves, and pressed his forehead to hers. 'Okay. Okay, okay. Just.' He swallowed hard and lifted his forehead from hers and took a step back. 'I just need a second.'

She nodded and James watched her eyes flick down towards his groin. They hovered there for a moment before, cheeks a bit more flushed, she looked back up at him. He had half a mind to sass her as he sat back on the edge of his desk — a raised eyebrow, 'Are you checking me out, Evans?' — but he could barely think through the fog in his brain and he honestly wasn't prepared to handle whatever she might come back with in response to his cheek.

He crossed one arm in front of him to cradle his elbow and pressed his free hand to his forehead, his fingers spreading out and rubbing short lines into his skin. He closed his eyes and took a breath — a deep, intentional breath — and then another.

It wasn't helping much — he still felt a little like he was going to explode and his trousers were now exceedingly uncomfortable — but he felt like, at least, he could act like a normal person for a few more minutes. Like he could say goodnight without draping himself over her again and asking her to stay.

He exhaled hard, opened his eyes, and dropped his hand.

'Okay.' He ran a hand through his hair and half laughed as he lifted his gaze and met her eyes again.

She just watched him as he stood. He thought, for a moment, that she was going to step forward and kiss him again, but she took her own deep breath and gave him a small smile.

'Okay.'

He started across the room, Lily turning on her heel and following him when he reached her. They paused near the coat rack and James lifted her cloak, held it open so that she could step into it.

'I thought about this for days,' she said as he slid the cloak over her shoulders. 'The first time you did this.'

She turned, careful to stay close to him, and looked up at him. 'Maybe that's silly, but —'

He shook his head. 'No. Not silly. I thought about it, too. The way you looked at me as you buttoned it up….'

He held her gaze for a moment, the choice hovering clearly between them, before they both took a deep breath. They laughed softly.

'I haven't felt like this in ages,' Lily said.

He nodded, a smile curving at his lips. 'God, I know. I forgot what this is like.'

She quirked an eyebrow at him. 'What's it like?'

Her eyes tipped just a bit black again and though the temptation was rising in his chest to answer her, he knew that that was, probably, not the best idea. 'I don't think I can describe it to you right now. I'm barely holding onto control as it is.'

Her eyes flicked down to his hips again and James heard her suck in another breath. 'Yeah.' She met his eyes again. 'Yeah, alright.'

His heart beat hard once, twice more against his ribs before he took another breath. 'Can I kiss you goodnight?'

Lily bit the corner of her lip to hide the smile that had just started at the corners of her mouth and she nodded. James stepped forward, his hands lifting automatically so he could run his fingers along her jaw before tangling in her hair, and pressed his lips lightly against hers. And it was a mistake, kissing her again, because the minute his mouth was on hers, it was like the feeling in his chest, the one he was just barely controlling, kicked to life again, and it was stronger, brighter, this time, and now he had electricity singing through him and — fuck.

He pulled back, the connection snapping between them, and took a deep breath. Lily opened her eyes and he chuckled.

'I think, maybe,' he was still running his fingers lightly over the back of her neck, 'that was a bad idea.'

Lily nodded jerkily. 'Maybe. But, I'm not regretting it.'

He chuckled and her face lit up in a smile. He leaned down and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lips before he dropped his hands and stepped back.

'Alright,' he stuffed his hands into his pockets so he knew he would absolutely keep them to himself. 'Goodnight.'

The smile on her face shifted, became softer, a bit warmer, and James felt his chest glow at the sight. 'Goodnight, James.'

She gave him one last, lingering look before she turned, threw a pinch of powder into the fireplace and, after another quick glance over her shoulder, stepped into the flames.


Find me on tumblr! Same username :)