Written for QLFC: Season 9, Round 6
Team: Kenmare Kestrels (Captain)
Prompt: Link 'Em Up - Sirius/James
Summary: James is the son of the Chief of Police. Sirius fights with everyone who insults his brother and ends up getting detained. Of course, the two of them meet because this is fanfiction. Really, this is just a Muggle!AU that no one asked for.
Warnings: Fistfight (not really depicted, but mentions of broken bones, bruises, and blood). Mentions of bullying/harassment (thought the topic is left to you guys to decide… it's pretty vague)
Word count (excluding AN): 1250
Little Rebel
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Sirius knew better.
He knew better, but he still threw the first punch.
.
James knew better than to go to the backrooms of the station when the holding cell was occupied. Granted, the rule made more sense back when he was a child (and at nineteen, he definitely wasn't a kid anymore, thank you very much), but he still felt a thrill of excitement as he stepped through the hallways. He pretended that he had been sent to retrieve something from the supply room.
Which of course, he hadn't. He was the son of the Chief of Police. He didn't hold a position on the force, and because of who his dad was, no one ever asked him to run errands for them. But the supply room excuse always worked for him, ever since he was eleven and had mastered the phrase, "Dad needs a new pen."
Though, now that he was in uni, he changed the phrase to, "I need a new pen."
Not that he needed to use the excuse very often. In the last eight years, he had only disobeyed his dad's direct orders to stay away from the holding cells twenty times (today would make the twenty-first), and he had only been asked what he was doing back there a total of three times.
But, still, he always had the lie on the tip of his tongue. Just in case.
Every time he had peaked into the room that held the cell, he had landed his gaze on a random assortment of people, from his former Chemistry Professor to a very, very angry woman in her eighties who kept muttering under her breath in Russian. Every person he had spied on had been interesting, though. At least to James.
And the current resident of the cell was no different.
.
Sirius knew better.
"Apologize," he snarled, holding Rabastan by the collar, knuckles already bloody.
Rabastan spat in his face.
.
He was gorgeous. That much was for certain. Even with his clearly broken nose, swollen eye, and split lip. James wasn't sure what it was about him… maybe it was how his head was tilted back against the wall, eyes closed, exposing the elegant curve of his neck and sharp edges of his jaw. Maybe it was his long, midnight-black hair that fluttered around his high cheekbones and rested on his shoulders. Maybe it was just his shoulders, broad and strong, but not overly bulky. Perhaps it was his hands, thin and dexterous with fingernails covered in black polish, resting on his thighs, knuckles bruised and bloodied. Or maybe it was just his thighs, thick in his tight black jeans—
(Or maybe it was just because James was gay and this young man was his type.)
"Are you planning on staring at me all day?" the young man said, eyes still closed. He sounded amused.
James frowned, shifting a little uncomfortably. He had never spoken to any of the cell's occupants before. He had never been seen by any of them, actually, but distracted by the current occupant, he had subconsciously walked into the room. He wasn't sure what he should say.
Fortunately, the young man spoke up again. "I don't bite, you know." His eyelashes finally fluttered open, revealing irises of pure silver. James found himself suppressing a shudder.
Apparently, the young man liked James' reaction because a smirk grew on his lips and he sent a wink James' way. "Unless you'd like me to, of course."
.
Sirius knew better.
He knew better than to let his anger take control.
But Rabastan deserved every single punch.
.
James felt his face heating up, but he shook his head all the same, sliding his hands into his pockets. "What are you in for?" he asked, cringing internally when his voice came out a little shaky.
The young man laughed, waving the question away with his hand. His expression was light, mischievous even, but his eyes were dark. "Some idiot thought it would be a good idea to insult my brother in front of me," he said, still grinning. "Had to teach him a lesson. I'm Sirius."
James blinked, then frowned. "You're serious?" he prompted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I mean, I suppose… if you got into a fi-"
"Nah. Sirius Black," the young man chuckled, shaking his head. "My name."
A beat of silence passed before James let out a soft little "Oh." Then he snorted, seeming to relax. "Potter. James Potter," he replied. After a moment's hesitation, he stepped forward and reached his hand between two of the bars.
Sirius watched him carefully with his sharp silver eyes before he stood and clasped his hand in a firm shake. (His touch made James' skin tingle, but he didn't dare say anything.).
.
Sirius knew better.
But he didn't feel any regret, not even as Kingsley Shacklebolt handcuffed him.
Again.
.
"You don't work here." It wasn't a question.
Sirius' confidence made James smile, and he shook his head, letting his arm drop to his side. "No, I don't," he said honestly. "My dad is the Chief."
"Ah. I thought I recognized the name. Doesn't that mean you're not supposed to be back here? I'm pretty sure I saw an 'authorized personnel only beyond this point' sign," Sirius hummed, leaning himself against the bars as he shot a wink in James' direction.
After a moment, Sirius smirked and added, "Aren't you a cute little rebel."
James' flush came back full force.
He just couldn't help himself. With the intensity of Sirius' eyes, the smoothness of his voice, and the slight teasing of his words, James felt himself melting from the inside out. (Gay panic. That's what it was.)
"I suppose," James made himself say, shrugging. "I'm not too worried."
That was a lie. James was very worried about what might happen if his dad caught him speaking to Sirius. Sure… it had been eight years since he had been told not to come to the back of the station when the holding cell was occupied. But still. It was off-limits. Technically, he could get in loads of trouble.
Sirius seemed to sense James' discomfort because he started humming again to get James' attention. "How about this," Sirius started, his lips pulling into a soft smirk. "Hand me your phone and I'll put my number in. That way we can continue this conversation somewhere you won't be breaking the rules."
And James? He thought that was a brilliant idea.
.
"You know better, Si," Regulus said as they left the station. "This is the third time this month."
Sirius shrugged. "Everyone I've ever hit has deserved it."
"You don't have to fight for me."
"Yeah, Reg… I do."
.
James probably should know better than to call the guy he met in the holding cell at his dad's station, but he didn't let himself think about it. He just took a deep breath and dialed the number, bringing his phone up to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Hey. It's James."
There was a brief pause on the other side of the line, but when Sirius started talking again, James could hear the smile in his voice. "My little rebel. You called."
James nodded, his face turning red (so bright, he was glad Sirius couldn't see). He liked how Sirius had phrased that. "Yeah. I called."
.
Maybe Sirius knew better.
But maybe he didn't care.
Defending his brother has always been worth it.
And, besides. He never would have met James otherwise.
.