A/N: Reuploaded. I noticed some errors after the first upload. Here you go! Sorry for any confusion!
Chapter 26.
"No, you're not holding the knife right. It's like this."
Beth dropped her spatula into the bowl of mashed potatoes and crossed over to Sirius, patting her hands against her apron before moving to take the knife from him. He'd actually been a very big help in preparing the food for Thanksgiving and had almost entirely been in charge of watching and fixing up the turkey. However, after she'd watched him put together the macaroni with the wave of his wand, she'd shaken her head, confiscating the object for the rest of the preparation, much to his chagrin. Without his wand, he quickly became lost, and she'd sent him off to prepare the salad by hand, assuming that it was a manageable enough task for even the most magically dependent wizard. However, with the quite frankly dangerous way he was holding his knife, she now just prayed a trip to the hospital wouldn't become a necessity.
"I don't understand why you won't just let me use magic on this," he argued as he handed her the knife. "Do you know how much faster this would be going if I could?"
"That's not how we do Thanksgiving here."
"The only reason you're even celebrating this holiday is because of my idea."
"Then amuse me," she said, moving him lightly aside so she could stand at the cutting board. "Now hold it like this," she said, situating it properly in her hand.
He groaned. "That's how I've been holding it."
She gave it back to him and watched him try to copy her movements. "No," she said, sliding his hand further down the knife. "Like this."
He readjusted his grip, then looked at her. "Like this?"
"Yes." Beth walked back to the bowl of potatoes and continued mixing in the melted butter.
Sirius mumbled something incoherent, obviously making fun of her ordering him. "Aren't you going to baby my cutting skills too?"
"Now that you're holding the knife right, no." She smiled when she heard his scoff. She reached for the bar of cream cheese and spooned in a generous amount. "Now hurry up, they'll be here soon."
There was a brief moment of silence, only the sounds of the knife tapping the cutting board accompanying them before Sirius let out a loud groan. "This is the most tedious and time-consuming thing I've ever done."
Beth continued mixing. "Mmhm."
"I can practically feel my usefulness in life withering away."
She sighed loudly but didn't turn around to face him. "You are literally just cutting tomatoes."
"And my will to live. Slowly dissecting it into tiny pieces." She turned around and saw him languidly picking up a tomato. Accenting each word with the motion, he said, "Chop. Chop. Chop."
She shook her head and turned back to finish her task, reaching for the salt and pepper. "Just please make sure you finish the salad before your life ends."
Beth sprinkled in a generous amount of salt before stirring the potatoes again, then did the same with the pepper. Pleased with the way it looked, she grabbed a spoon to taste test it. Before she could reach it though, something wet and slimy hit her arm, then fell to the floor. "What the—" She looked around, eyes rolling when she saw what was on the ground. She looked up at the man standing across from her donning a deceptively innocent face. "Did you just throw a tomato at me?"
He shrugged. "I wanted to see if it met your impossibly high standards."
"So you threw it at me?"
"Yes." He turned back around, humming a small tune.
Beth shook her head, biting her lip to keep from laughing. How petty was he to actually throw a tomato at her? She turned back around, grabbing the spoon she'd gotten earlier and tasted the potatoes. A little more salt and these will be great, she thought. Maybe she should offer some to Sirius, too.
A wide grin crossed her face.
Quickly and quietly, she washed her hands and dipped two fingers into the potatoes. Carefully balancing the scoop, she walked back over to him, her hand hidden by her side. With her free hand, she pointed to a tomato slice. "That one's too thick."
"Once again," he said, lifting his face to meet hers, "I find myself unable to live up to your expecta—"
As soon as his eyes met hers, she flung the potatoes at him, relishing in his surprise when it hit him on the cheek. She gave him a smug grin, chuckling in his face as he wiped the mashed potatoes off, flinging it into the trash can next to him. A dangerous look crossed his face.
"You're dead."
Before she could process his words, another tomato smacked her in the face. She reached behind her, desperately feeling for the spatula she knew was still covered in the cream cheese and butter she had folded into the mashed potatoes and flung the contents at him recklessly. A large chunk landed on his shirt. She smiled in triumph before he quickly swept it off and chucked it back at her. She ducked out of the way just in time and grabbed a handful of the fruit she'd had sitting out.
"Don't you dare," he warned
She smiled wickedly and threw the handful at him without a thought, appreciating the way it stained his clothes and face easily. The look he gave back to her nearly knocked her off her feet.
He charged at her, reaching his hands out recklessly for the food behind her. She nearly screamed when she saw he held a deviled egg in his hand, and she brought an arm up to defend herself. He continued, undeterred, and mashed it into her hair. She groaned loudly at the contact, shouting, "Oh, gross," and he let out a dark chuckle, reaching behind his back for another one. At his movement, she hastily grabbed the can of whipped cream she had for the pie and attacked, spraying him relentlessly and laughing all the while.
His reactions were quicker than she had anticipated, though. He quickly grabbed the bottle from her hands and chucked it aside. She froze, momentarily shaken by his speed, and then suddenly he had her trapped, his hands boxing her in against the countertop, a hard thigh pressing apart her legs, his body leaning over her ominously. There was absolutely no space between them, his body completely flush against hers, and suddenly her breath left her body completely.
It was his turn to smile wickedly, and she vaguely registered his hand slowly moving behind her as her eyes remained glued to his face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a different spatula in his hand, this one covered in the chocolate peanut butter cream she'd had yet to pour into the pie crust. Her eyes flickered to it quickly, then went back to his face, which was surprisingly stoic for having whipped cream smeared across it.
"Do you surrender?" His voice was lowered, husky, and she briefly registered his eyes momentarily floating down to her lips.
"Never," she whispered back.
He grinned.
Slowly, torturously, the spatula moved closer to her. His other hand moved from behind her and came to meet the other. A thought entered her mind that she was no longer trapped by his arms and she could make a break for it, but she stayed still, unwilling to be the one to concede defeat.
Never mind the fact that his breathing was just as heavy as hers.
He traced his finger up the spatula, coating it in the mixture. He held it in front of her. "I can be generous," he whispered. "All you have to do is surrender."
Her eyebrows raised, but she stared at him directly, defiantly. "Do your worst."
When his finger made contact with the exposed skin on her neck, she nearly shuddered. His eyes were focused and dark, watching her reaction as he massaged it into her skin. She felt her eyes flutter at the movement, and it took every ounce of willpower in her to not give up on the fight then and there.
But she was not a quitter. She would win.
When his hand finally pulled back, she reached hers out and grasped his firmly, raising it between them. "My turn."
And without giving it any further thought, she brought his finger into her mouth and licked it clean.
The way his eyes widened and his leg flexed between hers told her that she had immediately taken the lead in this game of theirs. Her tongue swirled around his skin lazily, lapping up all of the cream hungrily, the mixture of the sweetness mingling with the saltiness of his skin deliciously. He watched her, darkened eyes trailing her every movement like she was a painting in a museum. She wasn't sure what had spurred the decision to tease him in this way, but God, now that she had started, she wasn't sure she would ever be able to stop. She traced her tongue up the length of his finger and his hand strained with tension, his breath coming out with just as much difficulty. When she thought that he would absolutely crumble—let alone how she was feeling—she slowly drew the finger out of her mouth and licked her lips clean.
They stood there, frozen for just a moment until she defiantly raised her chin. "Your move," she dared.
"Love to," the rough voice replied, and in an instant, his lips were lowering to the very spot he had just coated on her neck, and if he had not been standing so close to her, she was certain she would have fallen.
Her head fell back, granting him access without a single thought as he returned the favor, his tongue cleaning off the cream like it was the only thing he had trained to do. He leaned deeper into her at her movement, and there was no mistaking how this little game of theirs had come to affect him. She grasped at his shirt sleeve as his teeth joined his lips. The open mouth kisses destroyed any semblance of propriety she might have still had, and she moaned, tightening her grasp on his sleeve.
She wouldn't ever say it out loud. She wouldn't ever give him the satisfaction of hearing her proclaim just how talented his mouth was, or whispering how wonderful he was making her feel, or shouting her agreements at his ministrations. His ego was certainly big enough without it. But as his lips traced up her neck to tug relentlessly at her ear, she had only one thought:
Oh God, this feels good.
When his mouth finally left her skin, it took her several long moments to finally bring her head back to its normal position, and even longer for her eyes to reopen. The intensity with which he was staring at her made her heart skip a beat, and any question of whether he might feel the same way in this situation cleared away at the sight of his face.
"I think I won," he breathed.
"Yes." Her voice was shaking.
And then one hand was gathering her around her waist, and the other was moving to cup her cheek, and all rational thought flew out the door as his mouth, still slightly coated in the chocolate peanut butter cream, was coming closer and closer until finally—
"Okay, so I know I promised to bring sweet potato casserole—"
The two sprang apart immediately at the sound of Peter's voice, Sirius moving back to the salad, Beth turning her back and standing in front of the mashed potatoes.
"—and believe me, I had every intention to make it, but when I went to the market, there were absolutely no—what happened here?"
Beth turned her head, finding Peter standing in the doorway with an extremely confused look across his face, his arms full of groceries. "Peter!" she cheered much too happily and went over to help him with the bags. "Thank you so much for all of these!"
"My pleasure," he responded warily, glancing around the kitchen. "Did a Death Eater attack in here?"
"I was trying to show Sirius how to properly cut a tomato and then—" his tongue was lapping at me like I was ice cream— "things got out of hand."
Sirius had yet to move.
"Ah," Peter said, glancing down at the floor. "So that explains the… whipped cream?"
"Yes."
"And the mashed potatoes."
She swallowed hard and began looking for a towel, cursing that the only visible one was right next to Sirius. "Yes."
"And, of course, why there appears to be deviled egg in your hair and pie filling on your face."
She grasped at her hair, cringing when she stuck her hand in the egg. "Things got out of hand," she repeated.
Sirius had still yet to move.
Abruptly, she turned, heading for the bathroom. "I'm going to hop in the shower real quick."
"I'll get everything cleaned up," Sirius finally spoke, his voice deceptively calm.
She didn't turn around.
As soon as the door was shut behind her, she slid down to the ground, putting her face in her hands. He's leaving soon, she reminded herself. It's just because he's still here. You got caught up in the moment. It's nothing else. He's leaving soon. He's leaving soon. He's—
Oh God, he would be leaving soon.
She groaned.
"Where should I, uh—"
"Here," Sirius said, grabbing two of the bags from Peter's hands and setting it on a clean spot on the countertop. Looking around the kitchen for the first time, he realized just how much of a mess had been made. Grabbing the towel next to him, he bent down and began cleaning up the remnants of their fight and any hopes of an encore performance.
"Everyone else should be here within the next thirty minutes," Peter said conversationally.
Sirius grunted in response. His hands were shaking. He tightened them into fists.
"Yeah, Lily and James were off to see a healer about why she hasn't been feeling well, Remus is clearing some things up with Dumbledore about us all being gone today."
Sirius rinsed out the towel before moving to wipe off the countertops. "Is he?"
"And of course, you were about to shag Beth in the kitchen, so I guess all of us are keeping busy today."
Sirius dropped the towel and rolled his eyes, ready to defend himself against the—extremely accurate and warranted—accusations, but Peter cut him off.
"Don't even try to tell me that wasn't what was happening," Peter said, keeping his voice at a hushed but firm whisper as he quickly checked behind him. "She's going to need every ounce of makeup she has to cover up the monstrosity of a hickey on her neck." His eyes flicked pointedly down Sirius' body before coming back up. "Not to mention she has you standing at attention."
Sirius shifted and ran a hand through his hair. He said nothing.
"Listen, obviously any reminder I give you about how literally awful this idea is is not phasing you. Obviously you don't care if this ruins anything. So if you can't think of any other reason why you should not go through with it, at least consider why she shouldn't, because she's the one who's going to be hurt in the end. Not you."
Sirius faced Peter, feeling anger that could possibly be hurt rise into his face slowly but steadily. "Why are you so against the idea?"
"I never said I was—"
"No." He shook his head. "No, that's all you've been saying. That's all you've ever been saying. This whole time, you've done nothing but belittle me and tell me that I'd be all wrong for her."
"Because you—"
"No," Sirius barked, and Peter balked at the sudden authority and his voice. Sirius stepped forward and leaned over his friend, the strain and tension and desire still coursing through ever breath as he stared him down. "I am capable of having my heart ripped out. I am capable of falling hard too quickly, and I am certainly capable of making my own decisions regarding whether or not I want to risk getting hurt. Why do you automatically assume that I'll be the one to hurt her when it could very well be her hurting me? Would you blame me for my heartbreak the way you would presume to blame me for hers?"
"I never said—"
"If I want to lay my heart on the line—" he interrupted— "if I want to beg and plead with her, or anyone for that matter, if I want to steal moments in dark closets, or if I want to shag them senselessly into the carpet, it will be because I have chosen to, not because you have told me what I can and cannot do. You are hardly the voice of reason. You can't even bring yourself to pick up the phone and call someone. You're so afraid of the possibility of being embarrassed that you deny yourself the potential of being happy. And then you have the audacity to call yourself a Gryffindor." He spat the word out like it was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. "So don't try to tell me that this is a bad idea again, because I can assure you that if I pursue anything with anyone, it will be because I deemed it worth the risk, not because you gave me permission."
Peter said nothing.
Several minutes later, the kitchen had been cleaned up, the salad had been finished, and, as a truce to Beth, the pie filling was poured into the crust and set into the freezer. Food was dished out into serving bowls, the turkey had come out of the oven, and the bottle of wine was set out to breathe.
Peter still said nothing.
When James, Lily, and Remus finally arrived, Sirius greeted them as if nothing had ever happened. He'd changed into a grey sweater and jeans, deeming it better than lounging around in the mashed potato covered flannel he'd originally been in. James began setting out the plates upon his arrival while Remus pulled out the second bottle of wine that he had brought. They immediately hopped into easy conversation, trading stories of how the food preparation had gone for this holiday they had never celebrated before.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw Peter pull Lily aside, looking pointedly over at him occasionally as they spoke in hushed whispers.
Sirius said nothing.
And then Beth came out. And maybe it was because of the conversation he'd just had, or maybe it was the aftertaste of her skin, or maybe it was because he'd been staying with her for too long, but at that moment his heart skipped, and he knew that no other person would ever look as lovely as she did then, with her hair noticeably egg-free and shiny, and her dress swishing with every step, and the absence of any clear evidence of a mark on her neck or smear on her clothes refreshing. Hellos were exchanged, compliments were received, and smiles were plentiful. When she looked at him, he returned the gaze with a knowing smile and reveled in triumph when pink slightly tinged her cheeks before she looked away.
Absentmindedly, he looked to Peter.
They said nothing.
Sirius picked up the empty bottle of wine and brought it into the kitchen where the food was still splayed out. It looked like the annual start-of-term feast he'd wholeheartedly partaken in at Hogwarts. All that was left were reminders of the food, some noticeably more gone than others. They'd stuffed themselves completely, indulging on whatever their heart desired, and after waiting about twenty minutes had made their way back through again. Sirius still wasn't entirely sure exactly what they were celebrating, but he had to agree that getting all of his friends around to indulge in carbohydrates and seasonings together was certainly worth all of the trouble.
For all of the events that happened beforehand, the meal itself was rather uneventful. Jokes and stories and memories were passed around with the rolls, and it wasn't long before all of them were laughing at something that James had said. At one point, Remus went around the table and tried to guess what each person was thankful for, but Lily demanded that they stop after announcing that Lily was thankful for "consistent and invigorating sex," though it did receive a high-five from James.
Now, they were all lounging about her small living room, the blankets he usually slept on having been swept aside for the moment. A glazed look was crossed over each of their faces as Beth tried helplessly to explain how American football was played as they watched a game.
Peter had still yet to talk directly to him.
Turning on the sink, he filled the bottle about halfway before swishing around the liquid and dumping it back out. He had caught Beth's eyes lingering on him occasionally and caught her once with a teasing wink. No doubt she was replaying the very same moment in her head as he was—and had been. He smirked to himself softly as he remembered her moans of approval, his thoughts lingering to what might have happened had Peter not chosen the absolute worst time to remind him that he was alive. You're leaving soon, his conscience reminded him.
But that didn't help him decide whether advancing that would have been good or bad.
"Your turkey was good," a voice interrupted his thoughts. Turning around, he saw Lily standing behind him, a genuine smile on her face. "Maybe you should be in charge of the food for Christmas this year."
Sirius turned back around and the faucet off. "You're here to lecture me, aren't you?"
"Who says I'm here lecture you?" Lily asked, obviously feeling accused. "I was just—"
Sirius threw her a knowing glance over his shoulder.
"Okay, fine, maybe Peter asked me to talk to you."
"Lecture me," he corrected.
"No, I think his exact words were 'berate him into obedience.'"
Sirius rolled his eyes, turning the bottle upside down in the sink to drain, and reached into the cabinet above it for the other bottle Remus had brought. He heard Lily shuffle behind him, and turned around to find her picking up and dropping a scoop of mashed potatoes repeatedly.
"Listen," Lily began, her voice dropping just a little. "I just have one question."
He reached beside her for the bottle opener. "What's that?"
"Do you love her?"
He froze at her question, bothered by how calmly she'd asked it. Her face remained unchanged, and she picked up the scoop again, acting as nonchalant as if she'd asked what he'd been doing that day. "Why is it that people always go immediately to love?" he asked with a sigh. "Why doesn't it ever start with, 'Do you find her attractive?' 'Do you like her?' 'Do you have feelings for her?'"
"Do you find her attractive?"
He paused. "Yes."
Another scoop. "Do you like her?"
"Yes."
"Do you have feelings for her?" Drop.
"Yes."
She looked up at him. "Do you love her?"
He didn't know what to say.
Lily laughed and shook her head. "See, that's why people go immediately to love. We're right back where we started."
He huffed and began tightening the corkscrew into the bottle, turning it deliberately with frustration. "I don't know, Lily," he replied honestly. "She's incredible. Smart, funny, absolutely stunning—"
"And also the closest girl to you in an immediate radius. Or are you going to try to tell me that that isn't a factor?"
He lifted the lever and pulled out the cork with a definitive pop. "It certainly doesn't hurt her cause," he admitted.
Lily nodded, then picked up another large scoop of potatoes. "I'm going to talk to Dumbledore. Try to get him to let you come home early. I think you've done everything you can. No point in extending this any further."
He tossed down the bottle opener with a sigh. "Yeah."
"Unless you can think of a reason why you'd need to stay? Maybe to teach Beth how to hide those love bites on her neck better?"
He put down the bottle at that and raised his hand to begin defending himself. "Lily, you can't just—"
"No, stop, let me say this."
"But you're going off of—"
"I know you know my thoughts on her right now," she continued, "and I know you're going to be all noble and try to defend her. But she's not who I'm worried about, Sirius." She put the spoon down in the bowl, and for the first time looked directly at him. "It's you."
She's the one who's going to get hurt in the end, not you.
Sirius laughed as Peter's words came fighting back. Of course, he would tell Lily how he reacted. Of course, he would give Lily the exact words to say. Words that, in any other situation, would have touched him were instead insulting to hear, and Sirius couldn't help but bite back, "So Peter told you everything, did he?"
She shook her head. "I didn't say that because Peter told me to."
"But he did tell you."
"I said it because you are the one that's important to me, Sirius, not her."
He faltered at that, his hand freezing on the cabinet knob, as her words slowly began to form in his mind.
"What," she scoffed, "you think because my husband introduces me to some random childhood friend of his that suddenly I'm going to bend over backward for her? Ultimately, if she moves to Timbuktu tomorrow and never talks to us again, I'm not going to be phased. Do you know who I would desperately miss, though? You. Hands down. No questions asked."
"Yeah, because you'd never hear the end of it from James, right?"
"Because you are my friend, you idiot!"
There had never been any doubt in his mind that that was true. He'd known it for a while. A long while, in fact, since before that fateful day that he saw her crying in the library. But hearing her proclaim it so exactly, so matter-of-factly made his heart swell and his throat clench. He looked towards her, exasperation clearly defined on her face and realized that while he'd known it to be true, there was something different in hearing it declared an undeniable truth. She took a deep breath and sighed, placing her hands on the counter as she stared blankly at the wall.
"Everything's changing," she said quietly. "Everyday I look around and I notice subtle differences and see the damage that's being done on both sides. I don't want one of the things that changes to be you. You know that even the mere involvement with her automatically puts a bigger X on your forehead than what you already have, than what we all already have." She placed a hand to her stomach and rubbed it gently, still staring directly at the wall. "I need you to stay constant. I don't want you to change. I need you to be around."
"Why?"
She gave him a small smile. "Because I want you to be around. With everything that we've been through, everything that you've done with James, with Peter, with Remus, you can't just not be around." Picking back up the spoon, she began playing with the potatoes again. "I get that there's history between you and Beth, and I know that's hard to ignore. And look, if you decide that what you want most in the world is to go after this, then do it. I'm hardly one to stop you. Telling you to stop would be hypocritical considering all that James and I have done, all that we are doing. But I beg of you, don't go into this without love being your force behind it. We don't have the privilege of falling in love over time anymore. We don't know if we have time. And we certainly have too much to do to put our focus on meaningless relationships, especially for someone as controlling as her."
"Controlling?" he cut off.
Lily rolled her eyes. "Did she or did she not tell you to not use magic today?"
"That hardly means—"
"She's taking the parts of you she doesn't like and asking you to conceal them instead of accepting who you are for the whole. I think the scariest part is you don't even realize it, and even worse, you bend to them. That's why I don't like her. You deserve the world, and instead, you're settling for a globe."
Sirius huffed. "I thought you said you weren't going to lecture me."
"I'm not lecturing you." She brought her hand up to her head, rubbing her fingers across her temples, and his head scrunched up with worry. "I'm just saying—"
"Are you feeling okay?"
She stopped, glancing at him suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"
"Peter said you were at the healer again today."
"I'm fine."
He reached out for her. "Are you sure? Because—"
"I said I'm fine," she snapped, then immediately sighed and apologized. "I'm just tired."
"And tiredness makes you suddenly break out into a lecture?"
"Something like that, I guess." They laughed, and then she grabbed a hold of his arm, leaning up against it in a small hug. "I just want you to be happy."
"As long as it doesn't change anything, right?"
"Yes, precisely."
They stood there, silent for just a moment, before he continued, "She apologized. For everything. Accusing me of hiding things from her, accusing me of lying to her, all of it. Asked me about school, about my family."
"And did you tell her?"
He nodded solemnly. "All of it."
"All of it?" Lily questioned, clearly taken aback. "And she said—"
"Nothing. She just listened."
"And you just told her?"
He nodded.
"Huh." She took a glass from the cabinet he opened but didn't put it down. "So you do love her," she stated softly.
He cleared his throat, reaching for the glass in her hand. "I don't think I would say—"
"No, that's how it started with me. With James."
He took the glass from her, filling it with the dark liquid. All at once, a thought entered his mind, a familiar one claiming that what he had wasn't enough, and wondering if love was the answer. He shook his head. Love couldn't be what he was missing. Love couldn't be what he felt towards Beth. It was something else entirely. Genuine interest. But love? Up until this point, love had only given him painful heartbreak and a misguided sense of what a family was supposed to be. Surely, surely that wasn't what he felt towards her. Lily's words played back in his mind, though. That's how it started with me. What could that mean?
"I can't lose you," she declared firmly. "I won't lose you. And not just for James' sake, but for mine, for… for everyone's." She put her hand back on her stomach. "If you decide on this, Sirius—"
"I'll be careful," he promised.
She nodded once, taking the glass into her hand and stepping back into the living room. "And if not, Marlene is very sad right now and could use some company."
"Renting me out now, are you?" he teased back as he came to stand beside her.
She smiled as she handed James the drink, of which he quickly took a large gulp. "Just letting you know that the options are available," she said.
He looked towards Beth, who had passed out at a table with Remus, a discarded puzzle laying in their wake. Her hair was cascading down to cover her face, slowly but sure blocking it from his.
Love?
If this was love, looking at someone and thinking them beautiful even when he could not see them, then he was helpless. And if not? Then maybe they'd get to have tonight. Because Sirius was not a quitter. He finished what he started. And he intended to become very certain of what she felt tonight.
Beth waved one last time before shutting the door. Taking in a big sigh, she leaned against the back of the door, appreciating the afterglow that one only receives from having stuffed their face with copious amounts of food. They'd spent the rest of the day dozing in and out, going back to snack on food, and lazily carrying on conversations. She and Remus had tried their hand at a puzzle of some sort of majestic lake scene, but both had fallen asleep holding their heads up. After hours of attempting to stay awake, the lot finally left, and now Sirius was standing across from her, leaning against the back of the couch, arms folded across his chest, a smile gracing his face.
"Hi."
"Hi."
A small chuckle came from the two of them, and Beth stretched her arms out wide, yawning a bit as she did. "You did great on the turkey."
"Yeah?" Beth nodded. "Must have been the magic I was able to use."
She rolled her eyes. "I hardly think that magic was what made it so—"
"Magical?" he offered, uncrossing his arms to lean his hands against the back as well.
"I was going to say 'good.'"
"Your vocabulary is lacking there. Please, take note of this compliment. You ready?" She went to respond, but he cut her off with, "Your mashed potatoes were extraordinary."
Beth laughed and crossed her arms against her chest in response. "Why do I feel like you're making fun of me?"
"I'm not making fun of you."
"Hm," she grunted, suspicious. "Well, your tomato slices were perfect."
"Very good," he laughed, pushing himself up off the couch and slowly walking toward her. "Now who's making fun of who?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said blankly as he moved closer.
"Are you certain?"
"Quite."
He was standing very close to her now, and Beth saw his hand move up to lean against the door above her. She traced over his face quickly with her eyes, recognizing a very familiar gleam forming, one that she hadn't seen since the summer, or had it only been a few hours before?
A part of her told her to walk away from it. She ignored it, acknowledging it instead head-on.
"Your deviled eggs were delectable too," he offered.
She swallowed hard, trying her best not to look excited at his being so near, but thoughts of earlier that day crept into her mind, and she didn't have the desire to cast it aside. "Yeah, I like them a lot better when it's not smeared in my hair," she replied weakly.
He breathed out a small laugh, and she felt it dance across her skin. "It was a good look on you."
"If you say so."
"I do," he smiled, and it spoke of hunger and desire and intent and certainty. "Do you want to know what my favorite was out of all the foods?"
"What's that?" she whispered.
He took another step in, and she could feel his strong stomach pressing against her side as he leaned down to her ear, his lips just barely above it. "The pie."
She took in a sharp breath, fighting hard to not shiver as his lips moved in, just barely tracing the shell of her skin. "Liked that one, did you?"
"Very much. I was wondering…"
"Yes?"
He moved his face to the other side of hers, and she felt lips gently caress her cheek. "If maybe there were seconds."
Her eyes were closed, but she didn't care. Didn't care if he saw, didn't care what happened, only focused on the moment and the way he was making her feel, the way he had always made her feel. "I think it's all gone."
"What a shame."
"Maybe we can make more," she whispered.
"I'd like that."
"So would I."
He delicately touched her face, stroking two fingers down her cheek in reverence of her, and she did not move away, but instead began to reach up too, and meet him there—
Knock, knock, knock.
They jumped off of the door at the sudden knocking, Beth all but pushing him aside as she reached for the door. "Remus."
"So sorry," Remus apologized, peeking out from behind the door and glancing around the room. "I just need my coat over there," he pointed to the object on the table with the still unfinished puzzle.
Beth quickly handed it to him, giving him a wide smile as a response to his gratefulness.
"Thank you so much, sorry to be a bother."
"You weren't interrupting anything."
Sirius, who had returned to the couch, a large glass of wine now in his hand, responded, "Yes, he was."
Beth's breath caught at his forwardness and quickly flashed Remus another smile to make up for it. "There wasn't anything wrong at all."
"Except, of course, not trusting his majesty's coat to the postal service."
"Excuse me for wanting to stay warm on the way home," Remus fired back.
"Alright, alright, enough of that," Beth scolded. "We'll see you later, Remus."
He waved one last time and shut the door behind him. As soon as it was closed, Beth leaned her head against the frame, taking in a deep breath. What exactly was going on? This was the second time today that something had almost happened and someone else had interrupted it. Clearly, the universe was giving her a sign. He's leaving soon, she reminded herself. He's leaving soon. Surely, surely this was a good enough reason to end whatever nonsense the two of them thought they could get away with. She turned back around to face him, a small smile of apology grazing across her face. He did not move, only supplied one of his own back to her.
"Probably for the best," she whispered.
He said nothing, simply continued looking at her and took another drink of wine. She could have sworn she saw his face darken.
She cleared her throat and began fidgeting with her hands. "Did they tell you when you were going to leave yet?"
He shook his head. "Lily said she was going to talk to Dumbledore, though."
"About you leaving soon?"
He nodded. "I've been here for three weeks. That's certainly a lot longer than the usual assignments."
Beth knew deep down that would have had to be true. He'd stopped going to the meetings altogether, telling her once that there was absolutely nothing more he could provide to the conversation. Sirius had even shown her all of the items on the list that Dumbledore had given him, writing crowding around each one with information on what was done. He'd exhausted everything given to him. There was hardly anything else he could do.
And yet he was still here.
"I have a question for you." He twirled the liquid in his glass around.
"What's that?"
"Why Thanksgiving? What's the big appeal to the holiday for you?"
She looked around at the absolute mess left in her living room, the overflowing trash can, and the kitchen she still needed to wipe down, and she smiled. "It's like Christmas without presents," she said with certainty. "All of the family gets together and just enjoys each other's company. It's wonderful."
He nodded once at that before bringing his attention back to his glass. "I'm sorry your family wasn't here, then."
"Sure they were."
Sirius stopped at that and did not meet her eyes for several moments. When he finally did though, there was an odd sense about him, something she wasn't entirely sure of, even if she stood at it from now until the world ended.
"You consider me family?"
Her heart skipped at such an innocent question. "I consider you a friend," she answered truthfully.
It apparently was not the answer he was hoping for, and his face immediately dropped back to his glass as he took a large, long drink of it. Her brow furrowed in question at his response. "Sirius," she said, stepping in closer to him. "I've really enjoyed having you here."
"Have you?"
"Of course." She was standing next to him beside the couch now and reached out to grab his arm. He did not look at her, but he did not move. "I don't know what I'm going to do when you're gone."
"Please," he scoffed. "You're probably aching to be back to living by yourself."
"I like having you here."
He stared deeply into her eyes, the same sense washing over her as before. "Why?"
Beth searched him, trying to figure out the answer he was looking for. "I've never had someone to go get ice cream with me at 10 in the evening. Someone who goes tree climbing and singing and star wishing all in one night. Having you here as a friend, instead of an ex, instead of someone I'm supposed to never talk to again, has been wonderful, and I'm going to be very sad to see you go." She jokingly squinted her eyes, as if peering deeper into him. "Does that satisfy you?"
Sirius stood there silently, allowing himself to be inspected. It seemed as though he was chewing on her words, slowly allowing himself to digest them. They stood there like that, just staring at each other, and Beth had a brief, fleeting thought that if he were to lean down to her again, she would be powerless to stop it. Her breath slightly hitched at his continued scrutiny as he gazed down at her. She truly would miss him, and she truly did love having him here, and she prayed that was conveyed in her face.
He brought a hand up to her cheek again, stroking his thumb down it as he continued to look at her. He's leaving soon, she reminded herself. He's leaving soon. But she did not pull away, simply stood there, waiting for his next move.
Slowly, achingly, tenderly, he leaned in but pressed his lips to her forehead instead. She closed her eyes all the same, reveling in the familiar contact and soaking it entirely in. When he pulled back, she looked at him expectantly, but he simply ran his thumb down her cheek again.
"Goodnight, Beth."
And then he walked into her small bathroom, shutting the door to any possibilities with a small click. She stared after it, confused and disappointed.
What did she do wrong?
Out of all of the most inconvenient and hopelessly evil things in the world, fire alarms that went off in the middle of the night had to make at least the top seven.
Beth rolled over and rubbed her eyes before bringing the clock to her face. 3:38. Groaning, she threw her face back into her pillow, bringing the side over her ear in fierce retaliation. Unfortunately, the alarm did not cease at her response, and the now muted blaring continued, refusing to be ignored.
"Fine, fine," she moaned, sitting up in her bed slowly. "I'll get up."
In all seriousness, she probably should have been more concerned about the alarm. She did not remember the apartment complex ever having a drill before, and it was entirely possible that the building was completely engulfed in flames and that danger was imminent; however, as she desperately tried to reach for her robe without moving from her position on her bed, the only thought that she was capable of was how much coffee she still had left to help her get through the next day should this alarm last all through the night. Unless, of course, the fire destroyed all of her coffee. Maybe she'd take it with her.
A loud knock sounded from the hallway. "Beth?"
Sighing, she pushed herself off the bed, lazily grabbing her robe and shrugging it on. "Yes, yes," she said, moving to open the door. "I'm comi—"
He was shirtless.
Her eyes widened quickly, and she momentarily thanked every deity she could think of that the light was still off.
Because he was shirtless.
And yes, of course, she'd seen him shirtless before and had enjoyed an entire, unbelievably wonderful night of him being more than just shirtless, thank you very much. But that had been ages ago, back when tempers were high and arguments were plentiful and the need to take out all of the frustration on him was the perfect remedy. Now, after the teasing kiss he'd placed on her forehead and the sensuous licks he'd given her that morning, it was something different. Now, it was a craving. Now, it was just lust. Pure, unadulterated, mind-bendingly descriptive lust. Slowly consuming her into oblivion.
"What is that noise?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep.
She cleared her throat, trying to forget the fact that not only was he shirtless, but his pants were hanging low over his hips, and her eyes were quickly adapting to the darkness because she could see a small trail of hair teasing down… "It's a fire alarm."
He yawned. "A fire alarm?"
"Yes." Her voice was shaky. "It's an alarm for, um—"
"Fires?"
"Yes."
He nodded and stretched his arms up over his head, simultaneously causing her mouth to legitimately begin to salivate at the defined muscles that became much more evident than they already were. She didn't know how she'd made it this far living with him without seeing him like this before, but certainly, the saints were looking out for her in hiding this sight from her. Beth forced her eyes away and walked quickly past him, tying the robe tight around her waist. Maybe if she tied it tight enough and couldn't breathe, everything would be okay.
"We have to go outside and wait for them to give us the all-clear," she called out, shoving her feet into a pair of boots. "It'll be cold out, so you might want to put something on."
He grunted something in response, but Beth refused to acknowledge it, putting every ounce of focus onto the laces of her boots. Get a hold of yourself, she chastised. Your building could possibly be on fire, this is not the time to enter a lust-induced haze.
"Make sure you take any valuables with you," she said as she went into her cupboard for her coffee tin. "You know, just in—"
Oh God, really?!
Now he was standing there, with sleepy eyes and messy hair and those ridiculously low pants, and on his chest was his leather jacket.
But nothing else.
No shirt. No tank tops. Not even a tie. Just the jacket.
She could feel the heat rising to her face. She almost hoped there was a fire. At least then she could blame it on something believable.
"—case," she finally finished, voice hovering slightly over a whisper.
He held up his wand in one hand. "I've got everything I need." He squinted, walking closer to her. "Are you carrying a tin of coffee?"
She forced her gaze up to his. "I'm taking valuables with me."
"Right," he nodded, utterly confused. "Because your books are—"
"Replaceable."
"And your coffee—"
"Definitely isn't."
"Right."
Her heart was palpitating at an unnatural level as he shoveled a hand through his hair. This is ridiculous, she said to herself. You've been living with him for three weeks, and now you can't breathe? Ridiculous, absolutely ridi—
"Are you all right?" he asked.
She beamed entirely too brightly for 3:40 in the morning. "Ridiculously," she proclaimed, then quickly walked out of her apartment.
Once outside, she searched for someone, anyone to stand with other than her non-permanent, half-clothed, soon-to-be-leaving roommate, hoping to glean some sort of information about what all of this was about. The alarm was still sounding prominently, but as she glanced around, she saw that no smoke was exiting from the window.
"This is ridiculous," someone said.
"Absolutely ridiculous," another agreed.
Beth turned toward the voices, instead finding Sirius somehow standing perfectly in the light of the streetlamp, staring at the building in wonder. You have no idea.
"I do not see any damage," Sirius stated, breaking her out of her haze. "Are they certain there's a fire?"
"Someone will have to check on it before we can go back in," she explained. "Most likely it's just a drill."
"This is for practice?"
"'Always be prepared,'" she recited.
"Do you often find yourself in a situation for which you are ill-prepared at 3:40 in the morning?"
You mean like what to do when your ex is living with you because he's on a mission from some wizard named Bumblebee and looks particularly delicious? She shivered instinctively, remembering their midmorning almost-tryst in the kitchen and the taste of him, and cast aside all thoughts of the delicious nature. "You can never be too prepared."
Sirius evidently took notice of her shiver, because he immediately stepped closer to her. "Except when that means bringing a coat, evidently."
And then.
Oh, then.
He opened his arms out to her, allowing her the visual of his chest that she didn't realize she'd missed so dearly, and motioned for her to come to him.
"What?"
"There are only so many ways to interpret this movement," he said with an exasperated sigh. "I'd hoped that a university-educated student would be able to pick up on the most obvious one."
"I'm not cold," she said, imagining her cheek resting up against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. She shivered again.
"Yes, you obviously are," he argued, motioning for her again. "Come here, I'm not about to let you freeze."
This is a bad idea, she thought to herself. A horrible, nasty, disgusting, ridiculous idea.
She stepped forward anyway, dropping her coffee tin without a moment of thought.
His muscles contracted as her cold fingers touched his skin, and she almost yelped in response. She did exactly what her imagination had conjured, relishing in how warm his skin actually was when her cheek finally did reach his chest and felt both relief and frustration at how it felt.
Because it felt wonderful.
Absolutely, ridiculously wonderful.
Sirius wrapped his arms around her tight, rubbing her back and arms with his hands repeatedly. "There we are," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. "That's a lot better than freezing, isn't it?"
She was absolutely certain that she was going to spontaneously combust. Would that be better than freezing?
With a startled breath, she suddenly realized she could feel how rapidly his heart was beating. His chest was heaving heavily too, and his hands slowed their path to strokes, occasionally tangling in the tips of her hair. "Yes," she whispered back. "This is better."
His hands suddenly stopped moving, and she would have actually whimpered had his hands moved from where they were. Taking a daring breath, she looked up at him, unsure if she was clouding the desire that was flooding through her, uncaring if she wasn't, because they'd been teasing this all day, and she was tired of the false promises. His eyes met hers, and his lips parted slightly at her expression, and his breath was hot against her skin, and if she could have turned back time to just a few months ago in the summer, she would have in an instant, because he was looking at her with an undeterminable awareness, as though he were both undeniably confused and profoundly certain of what she felt at the same time. He brought a hand up to caress her cheek, similar to how he had only hours before, and her eyes fluttered at the contact.
"Beth." His voice shook.
Her eyes widened at the sound, and her heart skipped a beat.
His eyes trailed down to her lips.
His grip on her tightened.
And then…
"All clear! You are all clear to return to your rooms!" a voice boomed through a megaphone, ultimately breaking any hope of a mood that could have been set.
"Finally!" a particularly aggravated voice yelled.
"Give us a warning next time!" another said.
"And maybe give us a dress code!" a man yelled, eyeing Sirius in particular. "We're not at Woodstock!"
Beth swallowed hard before breaking away from the man in question. "Shall we go in?"
He simply nodded, eyes dark and hooded, and Beth's breath hitched in response. They walked back up the stairs slowly behind the others, catching glances out of the corners of their eyes before abruptly bringing their gaze back forward. After several heart-pounding moments, the two of them finally made it back to her apartment. She turned the key slowly, trying to ignore how close Sirius seemed to be standing next to her, before pushing the door open.
Sirius cleared his throat and held out his hands. "Your coffee tin, my lady."
She stared at it incredulously. "I don't even remember putting it down, thank you." Beth reached for it, purposefully not touching his hands to avoid the obvious current of electricity that would shoot down her spine, and moved to put it back in its place in the kitchen. "I guess that makes you my hero, then."
"Ah," came the silky reply, and suddenly there were hands against the counter, trapping her in, and her back was pressed against his chest, and the breath that had once been hitched now completely stopped. It was painfully reminiscent of this morning, and her eyes fluttered shut as she felt his words dance across her skin. "And what will you give me as a token of your appreciation?"
She turned around, pleased to see that he looked every bit of shaken and desperately frustrated as she felt, but refused to be the one to give in first. She raised an eyebrow as her eyes flicked to his lips momentarily, her hands moving to rest on top of his. "What does my hero desire?"
There was a low moan, though whether it was made by him or her she didn't know, and his gaze was hungry, and hers was pleading, and he began to move, and her mouth was already slightly parted, and this was it.
And then the alarm went off again.
Except this time, when her eyes flickered open, she was completely alone and covered in blankets. She glanced around wildly, noticing that she was in her bed, and her alarm clock was blaring. She looked at the time. 7:30.
She glanced to her side. No Sirius.
It had been a dream.
He was leaving soon.
She'd never been more relieved in her life.
(She'd never been more disappointed in her life, either.)
A/N: I promised myself after the last chapter post that this chapter would be up by Thanksgiving, thinking that there was no possible way it would not be, because I have had this chapter planned out for forever. However, considering I am currently writing a paper analyzing how celebrities in Spain make apologies on Twitter, I had to settle for a literal day-of posting. However, it is still Thanksgiving, so here is your present. Happy Thanksgiving to any and all who celebrate!
I also got engaged recently (!), so much of my time has been spent on finalizing wedding plans. This story will not be abandoned, however, I promise!
Nimblescrivener, thank you for taking the time to read this in a hurry today.
To all my readers, I'm sorry they did not kiss. I wanted them too desperately. They did not comply.
Thank you for all of the reviews, likes, and follows! And for all of you out there just tagging along with it, thank you for all of you too! Keep them coming!