Oblivious

Summary - 'James thinks they're fake dating but they're actually really dating' and 'James isn't even aware that they're dating'

He's quite ashamed of the high-pitched yelp that leaves his lips, it's true.

But James doesn't think there's any other reaction to be expected when one finds oneself unceremoniously shoved against the wall of an empty alcove. The surprise only mounts at the feeling of a body, soft and warm, pressing against the front of his chest and stomach and lower, but dissolves when he registers the familiar feel of it. Of her.

"Evans," he groans, one hand unconsciously tangling in the length of her long, thick hair. "What—"

But she doesn't tell him what; the flash of a lethal smirk and dancing green eyes are all he's allowed to witness before she's got her lips on his, got her tongue prying his mouth open, her hands running through his hair and rumpling his uniform shirt without care.

James finds he doesn't care much for decorum himself.

"Merlin—" he kisses her back, brows scrunching at how easily everything about her overwhelms him, even when she's barely trying. The sweet smell of her, the way she pulls in breath, tugs at his lower lip, all of it magic more real than he's known. He tries to pull away, head muddled with some strange cloud of intoxication. "Fuck, Evans, I can't—"

"Are you sure?" She grins wickedly, pressing closer and leaving no room for doubt that she feels him, feels his eagerness. "Looks to me like you really can."

He strokes a thumb over her jaw, resistance waning already. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Uh oh." Lily leans back slightly, one eyebrow cocked even as she smiles easily. "That sounds ominous."

James's heart thumps, already against the idea, but he knows he has to do this now. It's been three months since he'd first found himself on the other end of Lily's glorious, wandering hands after she'd told sixth year Gryffindor, Jonathan Jenkins, that she was dating James when he'd refused to leave her alone despite multiple refusals. And though that first kiss had been quick and chaste, with a profuse apology from her right after Jenkins had left the common room in a huff, things had spiralled out of control. They hadn't expected Jenkins to be such a fucking gossip, and by the end of the day, the news that James Potter and Lily Evans were dating had penetrated ears everywhere in the castle.

When Lily had asked him to play along for a bit until there was no more danger of Jenkins hounding her like a wolf, she'd thought he'd been doing her a favour.

If he'd been a normal friend and not secretly in love with her, James supposes it would've been a favour.

But now—three months down the line—he's gotten greedier. He no longer just wants Lily to keep snogging him. He wants her fully, publicly; no pretences.

Typical of him to want to ruin the one good thing he has with her now, after seven years of struggle.

"Hello?" Lily pulls at his tie, jerking him out of his thoughts. She's still smiling, though a concerned light has entered her eyes now. "Rather cruel of you to keep me hanging here with such dreaded anticipation."

He's forgotten words. "Um."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake—"

James looks up and away at the sound of that voice, finding Sirius sauntering down the corridor, the Marauder's Map in his hands. Lily pulls away a bit at his appearance, but her palm stays firmly planted against James's stomach. "'lo, Sirius."

"You're bloody late for Transfiguration," he accuses, grey eyes narrowed, and James is finally reminded of the reason he'd been walking down this shortcut in the first place. "Thought I'd come find you two, given that neither of you can be counted upon to keep your head on straight these days."

"We've no reason to." Lily shrugs, grinning. "Head duties."

"It's McGonagall."

"She likes us," James supplies.

"Fucking unfair," Sirius grumbles, pocketing the parchment as he walks away. "You're just as bad as Prongs, Evans. Worse!"

Lily laughs at his disappearing form before turning back to him. "Reckon he might be right."

James inhales, misery eating his insides. "Lily, I—I can't do this anymore."

It takes a few seconds, but then her smile falls, brows stitch together, hands dropping. "Can't do this? What—what do you mean? Are you breaking up with me?"

"No!" His hand jumps to his hair, heart instantly loathing the upset look on her face he's brought on. "I mean, I can't break up with you if we were never together anyway."

But Lily's frown only deepens at that. "James, what—" she shakes her head. "What the bloody hell are you saying?"

"That this is too difficult! All this confusion and pretending to be with you when I know none of it's real—when I know what I feel is real. I'm just—" he stops, insides twisting together. "I'm sorry, okay? I like you too much to keep this going. I thought I could've been happy with pretending to be your boyfriend, but I'm not. Not anymore."

"Now hold on a fucking second!" Lily reels back, eyes so wide and shocked that it gives him pause. "What do you mean by pretending to be my boyfriend? You are my boyfriend!"

"Yeah, but not really."

"James." She slams him back against the wall, hand on his chest almost angry in its force. "What the hell are you saying? I asked you out last week. In the Great Hall?"

"That was—" he's shaking his head, dismissal ready on the tip of his tongue, when the scene repays in his mind. Lily had stopped him mid-meal with a squeeze on his arm and asked him if he wanted to go to Hogsmeade with her this month. And though there had been a new shyness to her expression then, James had assumed it'd been for the benefit of their friends, who couldn't stop grinning and laughing and talking about turned tables. "That was...real?"

Her jaw has unhinged, disbelief shining clear in her eyes. "Are you fucking kidding me? So, you've been thinking we were pretend-dating all this time?" He stays silent. "Oh my God, James. Why the hell would I be accosting you in hallways and snogging you, then?"

"Because...I'm a good kisser?"

Lily takes two steps back, shakes her head again. "Hang on, are we back in 1975? Is this fifth year?"

But James laughs, relief and euphoria mixing together to create a massive wave of emotion that has him reaching forward and pulling her back to him. His fingers grip her neck, her hip, and he ghosts his lips over the flush of her cheeks. "I've been going out with Lily Evans for a week."

"I don't think that counts anymore."

"Shh." He grins into her skin. "Don't ruin the moment."

"I'm ruining it? When you're the one who—" Her complaints die out against his mouth with a strategically placed kiss, which James figures he's allowed to do now, given that he's her boyfriend and everything. Lily stops for a beat to huff the words out. "Two minutes. Then Transfiguration."

"You're brilliant."

"You're a tosser."