AN: An MWPP slash fic, because I felt like writing one. James/Sirius/Remus.
Sirius' POV.
His hair felt so soft beneath my fingers, and the way it caught the light, when it shined golden and almost gave him a halo, was absolutely incredible. His fingertips brushed against the smooth skin of his pale cheek, and I smiled slightly, deepening the kiss. His lips were as soft as his hair and as smooth as his skin, and they readily parted to allow my tongue's entrance. Yes, Remus Lupin was the most beautiful person I had ever laid eyes upon, male or female. He was a great kisser, too. Not the best, but great. The best of all was James Potter, my best friend, and that was kind of where the problem lay.
Yes, Remus was incredibly beautiful, like an angel fallen from the heavens. I was lucky to be able to have him, to hold him in my arms, to freely be able to kiss him, to do whatever I wanted. But the thing was... it wasn't what I wanted, not at all. Despite his undeniable beauty, I didn't want him. It was cheating him, I knew, to let him think that I loved him. I knew that, and felt horribly guilty for it. But what I could not deny to myself was that the man I loved was not Remus Lupin, but James Potter, and once upon a time, he'd known that.
Oh yes, once we had been together. We'd kissed time and time again during those few months when we were together. I'd convinced myself that we were in love, and that things were never going to change. Then I made the world's stupidest mistake. Both James and I were a little on the tipsy side after a visit to Hogsmeade, and we'd been making out on my bed, hidden behind the Gryffindor curtain surrounding it. That was when I'd made my mistake.
Like I said before, we were both a little tipsy, and we were hidden behind the curtains. I didn't even give any real thought to what was going on until after it happened. To cut a long story short, I wanted to further than just making out, and he didn't. At the time, he just laughed, and told me to cool off a little. He told me that we couldn't do that, not while we were at school, at least. Aside from that, he didn't appear to have any particular objection.
The next morning, I could tell something was wrong. He seemed a little distant, a little on edge. I was worried about him, though I had no idea what was wrong. Not until he pulled me aside, with that nervous expression on his face, and tried to explain it to me. "Padfoot," he told me, "you know I love you more than anything else on the planet, but I think our relationship is getting too intense for me. Maybe we should cool off for a while. I mean..." He had paused, chewing his lip, trying to determine the best way to continue. "Just be friends for a while."
It certainly wasn't what I'd been expecting. "You're breaking up with me?" I asked him, in a flat, almost disbelieving sort of tone. Hastily, he shook his head. He began to speak, but I cut him off in the same sort of flat tone. "I nearly went a little too far when I was drunk, so you're breaking up with me?"
He shook his head again, this time a little less emphatically. "Padfoot, I -"
"Prongs, when you turn to someone and say 'maybe we should just be friends', it tends to imply that you're breaking up with the person in question." I told him, my voice taking on a more aloof and cool tone than had been present before. "Are you breaking up with me or not? Make up your mind."
His eyes met mine for just one moment. I knew whenever he made eye contact with someone when he was in a bad situation, it meant he was trying to prove to them he couldn't be stood down. When he broke the eye contact so quickly, it meant he was feeling uneasy about what was going on. I knew so much about him, this born from being his best friend, and then boyfriend for so many years. And right now, his silence told me that he had something to say that he didn't want to have to say, but did anyway. He nodded, just once. "If you insist on putting it that way, I suppose I am breaking up with you."
He tried to sound as cool and aloof as I did, but he either wasn't as good at it as me, or he was just feeling too emotional at the time. Either way, he sounded cool and aloof enough to anyone who didn't know him as well as I did, but he was literally holding back tears as he said that. I could see it in his eyes; hear the slight waver in his voice. I wanted to hold him in my arms again, to kiss him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay. But it wasn't all okay, and for all I knew, I'd never have a chance to hold him like that again.
"I thought you loved me." I commented, as emotionlessly as I could.
"I do." He responded quickly, though the response was automatic. He didn't really mean it, I knew.
"I thought you promised you'd love me forever."
"I did."
My heart virtually tore into tiny pieces when I heard his tear-stricken voice telling me these things. It wasn't real; it was just an automated response to my harsh words. I was bullying the poor boy, but I couldn't really stop myself. I have little self-control at the best of times, and at such an emotional moment I could not possibly hold back my cutting remark. "So why are you breaking up with me, then?"
I knew it wasn't smart to try and bully James into responding. He might be emotional, but he was still James Potter, and he was likely to snap at me if I dared to bully him like that. And that he did, the tears almost evaporating from his hazel eyes and his voice becoming more angered by the moment. "Hell, Padfoot, maybe I lied, then." He shot back, angered, though the telltale tears shined in the corner of his eye. "If you want to put it that way, I don't love you anymore. I just want you to get out of my life. Completely." He stormed out of the Common Room, for all I knew breaking into tears along the way.
I know I did. Everyone in the Common Room had seen our spectacular breakup, and each and every one of them was staring at me. All their eyes upon me, I managed to remain calm as I climbed the stairs to my dorm. Once there and no longer under the scrutiny of the collective gaze of the Gryffindors, I burst into tears, pulling the curtain of my bed around me.
Remus had seen the entire incident and had come up to comfort me. For several moments, he simply sat and waited until it was safe to approach me. Finally, he dared to part the curtains of my bed. I looked up at him, my cheeks still stained with tears. He curled up on the edge of my bed and closed the curtain behind him. I wriggled aside to make room for him.
"How could he do that to me?" I demanded of my friend, my arms encircling him, turning him into my pillow. I sobbed into his chest for several moments. He smoothed my hair gently, and rubbed my back to calm me down. It didn't work, not really, but it at least helped me to realize that even without James, I had friends, people that cared about me. It was a good thought, and although it didn't cheer me up fully it made me feel a little less hopeless.
"I don't understand how anyone could do that to you, Padfoot," he told me loyally. "Once someone had you, I just can't imagine why they'd ever let you go..." He trailed off nervously, though he kept comfortingly rubbing my back and smoothing my hair. I rolled over, arms still around him, though I didn't notice. I looked up at him expectantly, not having the foresight to determine what was coming next. I must have looked like quite a sight, my cheeks stained from tears, my eyes red from all the crying, and shining with still more salty tears about to fall at any moment. It was quite the turnaround from my usual handsome appearance.
He paused, eyes cast downwards. The hand smoothing my hair rested on the bedspread, and he nervously began to trace patterns upon it. "Well..." he began in the same nervous sort of voice that he ended the last sentence with. "I'm not sure how to say this, but... since you've broken up with James... Sirius, I've had feelings for you for some time now." I blinked. He couldn't be saying this. It wasn't true. It couldn't be.
His gaze met mine, and I was shocked. Within the golden orbs of his eyes, there was something there that I'd never noticed before... a deep, sincere passion of sorts. I knew he must have been telling me the truth. There was no way that sort of expression could be faked. He leaned closer to me, almost conspiratorially, but I knew that secretive plotting and scheming was not on the agenda. "Sirius... I think I love you."
His lips touched mine, just briefly. It was barely three seconds, but it seemed like an age of not knowing what to do, or how to react. I gently kissed him back, not knowing what else to do. When we did pull away from each other, he was looking at me uncertainly and expectantly. I knew he was unsure as to how I felt about him, and it was up to me to tell him how I felt. I had to apologize to him, and tell him that I truly loved James, and would never be able to requite those feelings. Tell him I just got caught up in the moment with that kiss, and I didn't mean to lead him on even for those few seconds.
"Remus... I think I love you too."
Argh. Without even thinking about what I was saying, I professed my love for one of my best friends. That's never a good thing, especially when in the process of breaking up with your boyfriend. Especially when said best friend has just professed his love for you, and you don't honestly feel the same way.
He leaned closer to me again, and we kissed a second time. I allowed him to take the initiative, something I had never done before. Then again, allowing someone who had just confessed how much they truly loved me to believed that their feelings were requited when they weren't was also something I had never done before. We'd been together ever since.
I didn't know why I let it continue from there. Or rather, I knew exactly why, and I felt horrendously guilty for it. I'd always been something of an attention whore, and I needed a romantic partner to survive properly as Sirius Black. I was on the rebound, and he presented himself to me at the right moment. Or the wrong moment. I wasn't sure which. At times, I actually forgot that I was needlessly leading him on, and I didn't feel quite so guilty. But those times were few and far between, for James and I had been so close before and now he was barely talking to me. It stood as a reminder of what I was doing and how horrible it was.
After a while, the excuse that I was on the rebound became entirely obsolete. Instead, Remus was a method of trying to distract myself from my growing obsession with James. It made me feel just as, if not even more guilty than I had felt before, but I did it anyway. I thought of breaking up with him, to tell him that although I would always love him it was platonic, brotherly love and not the sort of love he felt for me. But then in my mind's eye, I could see the crushed expression on his face as I told him that, and the tear's shining in the corner of his delicate eye as I spoke. I couldn't do that to him, not ever. I had been too cruel to him already, and I couldn't bear to do something like that.
I began to hate and despise James Potter. It was all his fault that all of this had happened. If it weren't for him, none of it would ever have happened. We would never had broken up, Remus would never have had to comfort me on that fateful day, and I would never have cheated him like that.
Every fiber of my being despised James after that. Even the mere sound of his laughter made my eyes narrow and my jaw clench. I wanted to hurt him more than I had ever wanted to hurt anyone before... and yet something stopped me. It wasn't the rules enforced to stop violent behavior, or anything of that sort. It was because something in me still loved him, no matter how much I loathed him.
People always say there's a fine line between love and hate. Up until then, I always thought they were trying to hint that even though I seriously hate that girl they want me to marry one day, I would grow to love her. And most of the time, that's what they /were/ trying to hint at. But the phrase had a deeper meaning, and I finally understood what it was. A part of me loved James Potter. That same part loathed him for what he had done. I couldn't bear to hate him because I loved him so much, but I couldn't bear to love him because I hated him so much. It was an endless paradox, that never seemed to ease in it's relentless torture of the beings suffering from it.
In everyday English, it's life. And it was seriously starting to get to me.
His hair felt so soft beneath my fingers, and the way it caught the light, when it shined golden and almost gave him a halo, was absolutely incredible. His fingertips brushed against the smooth skin of his pale cheek, and I smiled slightly, deepening the kiss. His lips were as soft as his hair and as smooth as his skin, and they readily parted to allow my tongue's entrance. Yes, Remus Lupin was the most beautiful person I had ever laid eyes upon, male or female. He was a great kisser, too. Not the best, but great. The best of all was James Potter, my best friend, and that was kind of where the problem lay.
Yes, Remus was incredibly beautiful, like an angel fallen from the heavens. I was lucky to be able to have him, to hold him in my arms, to freely be able to kiss him, to do whatever I wanted. But the thing was... it wasn't what I wanted, not at all. Despite his undeniable beauty, I didn't want him. It was cheating him, I knew, to let him think that I loved him. I knew that, and felt horribly guilty for it. But what I could not deny to myself was that the man I loved was not Remus Lupin, but James Potter, and once upon a time, he'd known that.
Oh yes, once we had been together. We'd kissed time and time again during those few months when we were together. I'd convinced myself that we were in love, and that things were never going to change. Then I made the world's stupidest mistake. Both James and I were a little on the tipsy side after a visit to Hogsmeade, and we'd been making out on my bed, hidden behind the Gryffindor curtain surrounding it. That was when I'd made my mistake.
Like I said before, we were both a little tipsy, and we were hidden behind the curtains. I didn't even give any real thought to what was going on until after it happened. To cut a long story short, I wanted to further than just making out, and he didn't. At the time, he just laughed, and told me to cool off a little. He told me that we couldn't do that, not while we were at school, at least. Aside from that, he didn't appear to have any particular objection.
The next morning, I could tell something was wrong. He seemed a little distant, a little on edge. I was worried about him, though I had no idea what was wrong. Not until he pulled me aside, with that nervous expression on his face, and tried to explain it to me. "Padfoot," he told me, "you know I love you more than anything else on the planet, but I think our relationship is getting too intense for me. Maybe we should cool off for a while. I mean..." He had paused, chewing his lip, trying to determine the best way to continue. "Just be friends for a while."
It certainly wasn't what I'd been expecting. "You're breaking up with me?" I asked him, in a flat, almost disbelieving sort of tone. Hastily, he shook his head. He began to speak, but I cut him off in the same sort of flat tone. "I nearly went a little too far when I was drunk, so you're breaking up with me?"
He shook his head again, this time a little less emphatically. "Padfoot, I -"
"Prongs, when you turn to someone and say 'maybe we should just be friends', it tends to imply that you're breaking up with the person in question." I told him, my voice taking on a more aloof and cool tone than had been present before. "Are you breaking up with me or not? Make up your mind."
His eyes met mine for just one moment. I knew whenever he made eye contact with someone when he was in a bad situation, it meant he was trying to prove to them he couldn't be stood down. When he broke the eye contact so quickly, it meant he was feeling uneasy about what was going on. I knew so much about him, this born from being his best friend, and then boyfriend for so many years. And right now, his silence told me that he had something to say that he didn't want to have to say, but did anyway. He nodded, just once. "If you insist on putting it that way, I suppose I am breaking up with you."
He tried to sound as cool and aloof as I did, but he either wasn't as good at it as me, or he was just feeling too emotional at the time. Either way, he sounded cool and aloof enough to anyone who didn't know him as well as I did, but he was literally holding back tears as he said that. I could see it in his eyes; hear the slight waver in his voice. I wanted to hold him in my arms again, to kiss him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay. But it wasn't all okay, and for all I knew, I'd never have a chance to hold him like that again.
"I thought you loved me." I commented, as emotionlessly as I could.
"I do." He responded quickly, though the response was automatic. He didn't really mean it, I knew.
"I thought you promised you'd love me forever."
"I did."
My heart virtually tore into tiny pieces when I heard his tear-stricken voice telling me these things. It wasn't real; it was just an automated response to my harsh words. I was bullying the poor boy, but I couldn't really stop myself. I have little self-control at the best of times, and at such an emotional moment I could not possibly hold back my cutting remark. "So why are you breaking up with me, then?"
I knew it wasn't smart to try and bully James into responding. He might be emotional, but he was still James Potter, and he was likely to snap at me if I dared to bully him like that. And that he did, the tears almost evaporating from his hazel eyes and his voice becoming more angered by the moment. "Hell, Padfoot, maybe I lied, then." He shot back, angered, though the telltale tears shined in the corner of his eye. "If you want to put it that way, I don't love you anymore. I just want you to get out of my life. Completely." He stormed out of the Common Room, for all I knew breaking into tears along the way.
I know I did. Everyone in the Common Room had seen our spectacular breakup, and each and every one of them was staring at me. All their eyes upon me, I managed to remain calm as I climbed the stairs to my dorm. Once there and no longer under the scrutiny of the collective gaze of the Gryffindors, I burst into tears, pulling the curtain of my bed around me.
Remus had seen the entire incident and had come up to comfort me. For several moments, he simply sat and waited until it was safe to approach me. Finally, he dared to part the curtains of my bed. I looked up at him, my cheeks still stained with tears. He curled up on the edge of my bed and closed the curtain behind him. I wriggled aside to make room for him.
"How could he do that to me?" I demanded of my friend, my arms encircling him, turning him into my pillow. I sobbed into his chest for several moments. He smoothed my hair gently, and rubbed my back to calm me down. It didn't work, not really, but it at least helped me to realize that even without James, I had friends, people that cared about me. It was a good thought, and although it didn't cheer me up fully it made me feel a little less hopeless.
"I don't understand how anyone could do that to you, Padfoot," he told me loyally. "Once someone had you, I just can't imagine why they'd ever let you go..." He trailed off nervously, though he kept comfortingly rubbing my back and smoothing my hair. I rolled over, arms still around him, though I didn't notice. I looked up at him expectantly, not having the foresight to determine what was coming next. I must have looked like quite a sight, my cheeks stained from tears, my eyes red from all the crying, and shining with still more salty tears about to fall at any moment. It was quite the turnaround from my usual handsome appearance.
He paused, eyes cast downwards. The hand smoothing my hair rested on the bedspread, and he nervously began to trace patterns upon it. "Well..." he began in the same nervous sort of voice that he ended the last sentence with. "I'm not sure how to say this, but... since you've broken up with James... Sirius, I've had feelings for you for some time now." I blinked. He couldn't be saying this. It wasn't true. It couldn't be.
His gaze met mine, and I was shocked. Within the golden orbs of his eyes, there was something there that I'd never noticed before... a deep, sincere passion of sorts. I knew he must have been telling me the truth. There was no way that sort of expression could be faked. He leaned closer to me, almost conspiratorially, but I knew that secretive plotting and scheming was not on the agenda. "Sirius... I think I love you."
His lips touched mine, just briefly. It was barely three seconds, but it seemed like an age of not knowing what to do, or how to react. I gently kissed him back, not knowing what else to do. When we did pull away from each other, he was looking at me uncertainly and expectantly. I knew he was unsure as to how I felt about him, and it was up to me to tell him how I felt. I had to apologize to him, and tell him that I truly loved James, and would never be able to requite those feelings. Tell him I just got caught up in the moment with that kiss, and I didn't mean to lead him on even for those few seconds.
"Remus... I think I love you too."
Argh. Without even thinking about what I was saying, I professed my love for one of my best friends. That's never a good thing, especially when in the process of breaking up with your boyfriend. Especially when said best friend has just professed his love for you, and you don't honestly feel the same way.
He leaned closer to me again, and we kissed a second time. I allowed him to take the initiative, something I had never done before. Then again, allowing someone who had just confessed how much they truly loved me to believed that their feelings were requited when they weren't was also something I had never done before. We'd been together ever since.
I didn't know why I let it continue from there. Or rather, I knew exactly why, and I felt horrendously guilty for it. I'd always been something of an attention whore, and I needed a romantic partner to survive properly as Sirius Black. I was on the rebound, and he presented himself to me at the right moment. Or the wrong moment. I wasn't sure which. At times, I actually forgot that I was needlessly leading him on, and I didn't feel quite so guilty. But those times were few and far between, for James and I had been so close before and now he was barely talking to me. It stood as a reminder of what I was doing and how horrible it was.
After a while, the excuse that I was on the rebound became entirely obsolete. Instead, Remus was a method of trying to distract myself from my growing obsession with James. It made me feel just as, if not even more guilty than I had felt before, but I did it anyway. I thought of breaking up with him, to tell him that although I would always love him it was platonic, brotherly love and not the sort of love he felt for me. But then in my mind's eye, I could see the crushed expression on his face as I told him that, and the tear's shining in the corner of his delicate eye as I spoke. I couldn't do that to him, not ever. I had been too cruel to him already, and I couldn't bear to do something like that.
I began to hate and despise James Potter. It was all his fault that all of this had happened. If it weren't for him, none of it would ever have happened. We would never had broken up, Remus would never have had to comfort me on that fateful day, and I would never have cheated him like that.
Every fiber of my being despised James after that. Even the mere sound of his laughter made my eyes narrow and my jaw clench. I wanted to hurt him more than I had ever wanted to hurt anyone before... and yet something stopped me. It wasn't the rules enforced to stop violent behavior, or anything of that sort. It was because something in me still loved him, no matter how much I loathed him.
People always say there's a fine line between love and hate. Up until then, I always thought they were trying to hint that even though I seriously hate that girl they want me to marry one day, I would grow to love her. And most of the time, that's what they /were/ trying to hint at. But the phrase had a deeper meaning, and I finally understood what it was. A part of me loved James Potter. That same part loathed him for what he had done. I couldn't bear to hate him because I loved him so much, but I couldn't bear to love him because I hated him so much. It was an endless paradox, that never seemed to ease in it's relentless torture of the beings suffering from it.
In everyday English, it's life. And it was seriously starting to get to me.