Jilytober prompt: One (or both) realizing they were falling in love, made Christmasy. Mushy smut ahead.
this love is good / this love is bad
this love is alive back from the dead
these hands had to let it go free, and / this love came back to me
this love left a permanent mark / this love is glowing in the dark
Having grown up spoiled and celebrated, James had always expected falling in love to be loud, a thing of declarations and applause and attention. But as the days passed after his talk with Lily, he realized that falling in love was actually quite quiet. It happened in the shared looks across the classroom, in the clasp of her hand in his under the table, in the silent fireworks that exploded in his blood stream when they snuck away to kiss goodnight. And although he'd always considered himself a somewhat loud person, he found himself relishing their shared quiet moments, which felt all the more sacred for being reserved just for them.
He'd told his mates right after, of course, and he knew Lily had told the girls, and though he'd expected some snark from Sirius, none came. When he asked him about it one morning in the bathroom as they were getting ready, Sirius only shrugged and said, "You're my best friend, Prongs. I want you to be happy, and you and Evans look happy. You know, I think you're actually pretty great together when you're not being stubborn shitheads."
As the days stretched into weeks, into one new month and then another, James felt his confidence steadily build to a deep, resonating knowing that Sirius was right: he and Lily were pretty great together. It was in the way they teased each other constantly, yet knew now when to stop before pushing too far; the way they worked as a seamless team, sharing duties without complaint and jumping in to help each other without question; the way Lily seemed to read his mind and know his mood simply from one look at his face, and the way he began to realize he could do the same for her.
And as they grew more comfortable with each other, with this us they were creating, James noticed their love did grow louder. It peeked out in the united front they became in the corridors, the library, the Gryffindor table. It announced itself when they dressed in a couples' costume for Slughorn's annual Halloween party. It shone when she rushed the field and leapt into his arms after Gryffindor won its first match of the year. And it was all but deafening when he took her on their first Hogsmeade date on a chilly Saturday in November, his arm around her for all to see, and asked her to officially be his girlfriend, only to be answered with a deep, caramel-tasting snog and surrounding cheers so loud he couldn't hear the obviously, Potter her lips formed when she finally pulled away long enough to beam at him.
By the time they reached December and spent a languorous few hours alone snogging through the snowy journey of the Hogwarts Express, there was no question they would be seeing each other over the winter holidays, and when she stood in the foyer of his home, laughing with his beaming parents through introductory chit-chat, he saw his first glimpse of their future.
It was strange, how he'd never thought about it much. James tended to live in the moment, sure, but for all his pining and daydreaming about being with Lily, he would have thought that he'd have dwelled on those far-off moments of adulthood, but he never had. He'd actually never even imagined being with her outside of the confines of a Hogwarts relationship, but maybe that was just because that was all he'd ever known. Studying in the library, cuddling in the common room, necking in broom closets, tickling in snowball fights. These were the things he'd wanted, the things he'd fantasized about, the things he'd learned to expect to be a part of a mature relationship in one's seventh year. But here, in the ballroom of his childhood home, at his parents' annual Christmas Eve ball, seeing his dad introduce her proudly, his mum admire her dress, his friends laugh with her like she'd always been their best friend too—he started to see, with a strangely sad yet also hopeful nostalgia, that there would be life beyond Hogwarts, and that he wanted her in it.
As the clock crept toward midnight, the band struck up a slow jazzy number that quickly turned the dance floor into a sea of rotating couples. James reached for Lily, tugging her further into the throng as his mates retreated, and held her against him with one arm, hands clasped together as they started to sway.
"Tonight's been fun," she murmured into the crook of his neck.
Little butterflies sprung up in his stomach. "Yeah?"
"Mhmm. Your parents are lovely."
He chuckled softly. "They love you, I can tell."
"That's good." Her smile radiated from her voice. "Because I plan on sticking around for awhile, Potter."
Warmth unfurled in his chest, though he bantered back, "Good of you, Evans, because I don't plan on letting you go."
Her little laugh sounded hotly by his neck, fingers caressing his arm by his shoulder in an absent little motion, and it was so simply domestic, so unobtrusively tender, that while the thought had been wandering in and out of his brain for awhile now, he felt it more strongly than he ever had before.
He loved her. He loved her. And whether it was because of the twinkling candlelight shining down on them or the music swelling around them or the sheer overwhelming force of that feeling in that exact moment, he simply couldn't hold it in.
Though the bustle of the party surrounded them and slow-dancing bodies pressed in on all sides, adrenaline quieted it all and made it seem like only the two of them were rotating slowly on that dance floor. James pressed his hand more firmly into her lower back, pulling her tighter against him, and ducked his head to her ear.
"I love you," he whispered.
Her body stiffened, fingers frozen tightly on his shoulder, and panic flooded his brain as her head pulled back. Wide green eyes blinked up at him, and it took a couple of tortuously long seconds for James to realize they were blinking back rising water. "R-really?"
His heart squeezed, and without thinking, he stopped moving to the music altogether, letting go of her hand to cup her cheek and holding her tighter against him with the other hand circling her waist. "Yeah," he assured her softly. "Really."
A close-lipped smile spread across her face as her eyes closed and cheek nuzzled into his palm, like she was savoring the seconds they were living in. She sucked in a deep breath, fingers caressing him again where she held onto his shoulder and waist, and then without warning, those eyes were back open, fierce and glistening.
"I love you, too."
There was no controlling the grin breaking his face or the bursting of his heart at the sound of Lily Evans saying those four simple words, but before he could do more than beam, before he could even relive them in his mind, her hand was sliding up the back of his neck and pulling him down to her waiting mouth.
He'd kissed her many (many) times by this point—something he was still in disbelief over if he dwelled on it too long—but he thought this kiss was their sweetest yet. More than their first kiss. More than their reconciliation kiss. More than that post-victory kiss. Even more than her Hogsmeade yes kiss. It was a kiss he knew was imprinting itself on his brain, a kiss that felt like a memory even as it unfolded. It was orchestra in his bones and heat in his blood, and though the movement of her lips against his was the same as every other day, it was also indescribably different, because now those lips had formed the words that had been etching themselves deeper into his being for weeks. I love you.
James broke the kiss slowly, only able to pull away at all because of the consuming idea suddenly taking over multiple parts of his anatomy. "D'you want to get out of here?"
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes darting excitedly between his, as she nodded and whispered, "Yeah."
He led her up the main staircase and through a maze of shadowed hallways into an upstairs wing, their footsteps muffled in the plush carpets, until he slowed to a stop and squeezed her hand, beckoning her to follow him as he leaned against a door and turned the handle. Lily stepped across the threshold, and as soon as the door closed behind her, James locked it with a soft click. She thought she saw the flick of his wand throwing another charm at the door, but then it was out of sight as small balls of fire lit the sconces around the walls, casting dim shadows that mingled with the moonlight, and Lily realized she was in James's bedroom.
A large bed made up in a magnificent Gryffindor quilt took up the center of the room, Quidditch posters decorated the walls, and there was a desk against one window, where a pile of old school books sat collecting dust. Another side of the room housed a wardrobe and a bookshelf, which looked like it was filled with more books and childhood mementos.
Lily turned to look at him, hands stuffed nervously in his pockets as he watched her. "I like your room," she told him. "It's very you."
He smiled appreciatively, then took a tentative step toward her, voice shy as he said, "I was thinking you could…stay."
Lily's breath stilled, her stomach backflipping, as she heard the question he was really asking. "Won't your parents notice?"
James shook his head, chuckling. "Nah, they're not going to be checking up on us." He took another hesitant step toward her, adding softly, "We're alone."
The air rushed from her lungs and the hush of the room's enchanted walls pressed in on her from all sides. She swallowed hard. Only a week ago, they had been in James's bed at school, where they had come dangerously close to doing what they hadn't yet done. Lily had deferred only because she wanted to be truly alone with him for their first time—not in a room where his three best mates lay sleeping only paces away—and now, it seemed she had gotten her wish.
Nerves fresh with anticipation tingled under her skin; though he was watching her with dark eyes, Lily saw the restraint tensing his shoulders, the uncertainty chewing his lip. He was waiting for her, would wait for this as long as she wanted, yet she suddenly didn't want him to have to want another second. Pulling his tie gently, she closed the gap between them, feeling James grin against her mouth as she kissed him.
Her fingers fumbled with the knot of his tie, loosening it just enough that she could start unbuttoning his shirt, and then James broke away, reaching to the back of his neck to pull his shirt clean off over his head. But before she even got a chance to admire him, his mouth was back on hers, fingers searching for the hidden zip of her dress. Lily guided his hand to her side, above her waist, and James broke their kiss, resting his forehead against hers as he concentrated on working the zipper open.
"As much as I love you in this dress…" he started, not finishing the thought as Lily hummed and pressed her lips to his chest. His hand slipped inside the fabric, down to the lacy band wrapping around her hip, and his groan coincided with her gasp.
Lily reached for him then, hand tightening at his neck, toes pushing up her seeking mouth, and the energy between them sizzled, turning their kisses into the same kind of frantic, desperate things that had landed them in a nearly identical situation a week before.
"You sure?" he whispered against her mouth, hands bracing her waist.
"Yeah," she whispered back. "Take me apart, James."
A low groan purred in his throat as he brought his mouth crushing down on hers and picked her up. Lily wound her legs around him, burying her hands in that soft, inky hair, and kissed him as deeply as her mouth would allow as he walked them back toward his bed.
For all his intensity moments before, James laid her down gently, bracing himself on his hands on either side of her head as he leaned over her. "You're so beautiful it hurts."
Lily smiled shyly at him; she really should be used to his compliments, but the look in his eyes just then, something crazed yet adoring, made her heart squeeze.
Her hands tightened around his jaw. "Get down here."
James chuckled. "Let's get you out of this dress first."
It was messy, fumbling work, getting that contraption over her head, but they managed, and the second it was off, James's eyes raked over her body—or, more accurately, over the lingerie she'd purchased for the occasion—while his hands swept lightly up her thighs, over her hips, along her stomach.
"Lily," he breathed.
Though her insides fluttered from his attention, she teased, "You like?"
Open awe painted his face as he finally dragged his eyes up to hers. "That would be an understatement."
She chewed the corner of her lip, feeling her skin flush under the heat of his gaze as it moved back to her body. "I want you," she told him softly.
James flashed a playful smile at her as he bent toward her face. "I want you too," he murmured, his lips dusting her jaw. "But I need you close, because"—he kissed her neck—"you look so unreal"—her pulse—"I don't know if I can"—her collarbone—"last for you."
His teeth scraped lightly at her throat, sending her back arching into him as she tried to restrain the whimper that flew from her mouth.
"You don't have to be quiet," he murmured to her, lips back to working the sensitive skin of her neck. "My room's silenced."
Lily exhaled a soft moan, feeling herself melt deeper into the quilt at her back, and as James gradually moved his mouth over her shoulder and down to her breasts, the friction of his teeth through her bra enough to make her toes curl, Lily didn't hold back the sounds his attentions inspired.
By this point, he'd gotten under her shirt and kissed his way across her body enough that Lily suspected he'd mapped every ridge of her ribs, memorized every response he could elicit simply from a well-placed flick of his tongue or nibble at her ticklish side. And yet, this time, under the comfort of being more alone than they'd ever been and the shadow of the act awaiting them, James's exploration of her felt…reverent.
And she wanted to revere him right back.
Her hands traced taut shoulders, familiar biceps, rippling back, but more purposefully this time, like she wanted to sear the memory of every curve and ridge into her brain, and when his mouth turned to her other breast, dragging the edge of the satin cup down with his teeth so he could suck where she'd already hardened for him, she slipped a hand down between them to cup where he'd hardened for her.
James groaned into her chest, hips rocking into her palm, and burst their little wordless bubble of noises by panting, "Lil, you can't—I'm too—oh fuck—"
Her fingers squeezed, butterflies batting furiously in her stomach, as they always did when she felt the effect she had on him and remembered anew that he, this, was hers.
"Lily." He sounded properly choked now, face hovering over her chest so just his nose brushed her breastbone. "I mean it, I'm—shit."
She giggled lightly and teased, "And how, dear boyfriend, are you supposed to make sweet love to me if you can't even handle me touching you over your trousers?"
"Exactly," he replied in a huff.
That only made her giggle harder, and she tightened an elbow around his neck, kissing his swollen lips as she kept rubbing him with sure fingers. "Maybe we should buy you some time, hmm?"
His eyes were glassy. "Might be—wise."
Lily smiled, then kissed him again as she cupped him through his trousers, squeezing in time with the thrusts of his hips. In full knowledge of the power she held over him in that moment, Lily whispered, "I can't wait to feel you inside me," and then grinned as she watched the destruction she'd known that would cause unfurl across his face. Within seconds, his eyes scrunched, mouth in that familiar oh she never tired of seeing, as a warm dampness spread through the fabric under her hand.
"Fuck," he hissed, "oh, fuck—"
Lily hummed, fingers toying with the hair at the back of his neck, her other hand supporting him as he shuddered through his orgasm, until James collapsed on top of her, sighing into her neck as he groaned, "I've been fighting that off all fucking night."
"I know," she chuckled into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good," came his responding mumble.
"Oh yeah?" she teased. "Prove it."
James lifted his head enough to meet her gaze, a playful glint in his eye. Enough time had passed that they could do that now, could joke about the tumultuous few weeks they'd put themselves through in October. It felt like a lifetime ago, or like a movie of someone else's life and not her own. The weeks since had been filled with so much James—with all his laughter and cuddling and so much snogging that it almost seemed impossible two people could kiss that much—that now it simply felt as if they had always been this way.
As it invariably did when she used that particular little phrase against him, his energy rose to her challenge, his voice reduced to a growl as he assured her, "Oh, I will."
Before she could get another word in, he set out on his mission, mouth latched back on one breast while a hand dropped to tease the fabric between her thighs, and Lily sighed in pleasure as she arched into his touch. She'd seen many versions of James by this point, and while Randy James was adorably hot, Celebratory James was fun, and Romantic James made her heart race, it was Determined James who made her legs quake and eyelids burst with stars.
That night was no exception. The cloak of their purpose—the new step they were going to take together—returned to blanket them in its mood, and James's lips kissing down her stomach against a backdrop of a shadows from the low-burning sconces lit an electric storm in her veins.
His mouth moved along the top edge of her lacy knickers, kisses so feather-light that the softness of his lips and the faint brush of stubble were almost too ticklish to bear.
"Shit, Lily," he mumbled, squeezing her hips as he traced the line of the lace with his thumb. "These are—so fucking sexy."
She couldn't hide the pleased smile that spread across her face, and she ran an affectionate hand through his hair. "I thought you'd like them."
His eyes snapped up to hers then, darting with disbelief. "You—did you—"
Lily feigned ignorance. "Did I what?"
The flush already around his neck and cheeks deepened as he blustered his way through his question. "Did you—you know—go buy—or maybe you had them—but you—did you—pick them out…for me?"
She slid the hand in his hair down to his cheek, dragging her thumb over his lips, and relished the wild heat flashing in his eyes as she answered, "Yeah, I was thinking about you."
"Fuck," he breathed, returning his mouth to one hip.
"Though," she continued teasingly, "I suspect you'd be having this reaction to anything I picked out."
"Affirmative," he mumbled against her skin.
Lily giggled, but the sound quickly turned into a gasp as James gently bit her inner thigh. "Fuck, James."
She could feel the heat of his breath through her knickers, tickling her skin, as his face hovered just between her legs. "I don't want to take these off you," he voiced quietly.
"Then don't," she replied with a squirm of her hips.
Smiling, he pressed his lips lightly over the fabric covering her entrance, causing an involuntary shudder to rattle her body. "This what you want?"
Her hips squirmed again, seeking more of his mouth. "Yes," she breathed. "Please, yes."
As he shifted her legs to drape over his shoulders, Lily vaguely realized that at some point in recent minutes—she had no idea when—James had moved from leaning over her to kneeling before her at the side of the bed. He tugged her by the hips, positioning her a little closer to the edge, and dotted teasing kisses along the edges of her knickers.
"James," she all but growled. "This is—torture."
She felt his smile against her skin. "You're the one who suggested buying time, love."
Her hips bucked of their own accord, but she had no retort for him other than a frustrated huff, which only made him chuckle.
"Alright," he relented, and she sighed with audible relief as he moved the narrow strip of her knickers aside, dropped his glasses to the carpet with a soft thud, and then adjusted her legs on his shoulders before lowering his mouth to her. Although she'd felt him do this several times by that point, Lily still gasped at the softness of his lips and the tingling zips of electricity they created. He was always attentive when he was with her, but going down on her brought out new levels of his tenderness that made her shiver just as much as the flicks of his tongue did.
He reached up to palm her breasts in his hands, kneading with gentle squeezes that matched the lazy cadence of mouth, and Lily buried her hands back in that thick hair that she could never get enough of, letting her moans rain over the room with abandon.
Though he seemed intent on fulfilling his promise, James also appeared to be intent on doing so as slowly as possible. He worked her in a languid massage, lips tickling with gentle sucks, tongue rubbing light licks, and no amount of pulling on his hair, or squeezing her thighs around his cheeks, or writhing underneath him, or even panting all sorts of desperate, needy things, worked in getting him to escalate his ministrations to the level of pressure and speed that he knew—knew—would make her shatter.
And yet, perhaps he was onto something, because as he patiently restrained her hips and stayed the course with his dedicated slowness, that familiar bundle of pressure inevitably began to build deep beneath her navel, and the blissful sensation of mounting pleasure suddenly felt all the more luxurious for being prolonged, something she wasn't used to feeling from their typical quick trysts.
Soon, her pleas for more turned into soft cries of yes and there and, over and over again, James James James. But right when her legs started to tremble and her mouth babbled, "Oh, I'm close," he pulled back completely, withdrawing hands and mouth and even his heat, as he stood up and stepped back.
"Wha—" Her eyes flew open in shocked indignation, then stuck on the sight of him, stepping out of the clothes bunched at his feet. She'd seen him in varying states of undress, of course—ran her tongue over those abs, nipped those thighs, sucked that hard length—but never completely naked as he was now, standing before her in his empty, shadowed bedro—
Oh. The memory of what they were doing, what they were building toward, came back to her in a flurry of quick heartbeats. She'd been so absorbed in pleasure, so focused on the release awaiting her under his tongue, that she'd momentarily forgotten.
"I told you," he said amusedly, laying down on the bed next to her. "I need you close, Lil."
She nodded dumbly, unable to do anything in her still-blissfully-aroused state other than reach for him, needing their skin touching, their lips connected. James hooked an arm under her and lifted her back into the center of the bed, his weight deliciously heavy as he rolled on top of her.
"Okay?" His voice wavered, the only hint of his nerves, and she cradled his neck as she took in his searching look and the care in his face.
"More than okay," she whispered. "I want this. I want you."
He exhaled a breathy smile, eyes glinting gold in the soft, flickering firelight. "I want you too, Lily."
She pulled him down for a kiss, coaxing a groan from his mouth with her tongue, but then his shifting body caused her own moan as she felt the warm, smooth pressure of him against her thigh.
James dotted a kiss to her cheek before bracing himself over her on one arm as his other hand reached down to touch her briefly and then position himself at her entrance.
"I don't want to hurt you," he told her, sincerity plain in his eyes.
"I know," she whispered. "Just go slow."
He still had a crease in his brow as he asked, "We'll stop if you need to, yeah?"
Lily nodded, biting her lip, and then braced herself for the pain she expected. Teen Witch, after all, had been unforgiving in its advice columns about the pain of one's first time, and she didn't exactly have a sister or more experienced friend to whom she could turn for advice on the matter. But to her surprise, it didn't feel at all like she'd anticipated; James eased himself inside, eyes squinting shut and mouth falling open as he slid into her, and though she felt a little aching stretch from his fullness, it wasn't all that different from the initial pressure of his fingers—it was just more.
He stilled when he was fully inside, giving her a moment to adjust to him. "Lily, you—you feel—" His jaw clenched, muscle twitching. "—so fucking good."
"So do you," she rushed to assure him. "God, James."
Slowly, gingerly, he started to thrust into her, hips rocking in an uneven rhythm as they moved through unfamiliar motions for the first time. Lily canted her hips up for him, squirming at the friction rubbing against his pelvis created while the length of him stroked her inside. The combination of sensations was utterly electric, doing things to her body she'd never imagined were possible, and she pulled him tighter to her chest, feeling so entwined with him that she wasn't sure where she ended and he began.
James groaned into her ear, breath ragged against the side of her face, but then pulled his head up until his nose lined up with hers. "Is this…good for you?"
Lily nodded, fingertips clutching frantically at his neck and shoulders. "Yeah," she assured him. "When you"—she slipped a hand down to his hip, steadying him as she swiveled her hips against his—"like this."
He immediately ground into her, sending a moan flying from her mouth as her legs clamped tighter around him, and his voice was low and raspy as he murmured, "I want to make you come, Lil."
Words felt slippery, hard to hold onto long enough to get them out, but she managed to choke, "There—this—I'm—"
James seemed to get the message, because he didn't stop, just kept grinding into her as his mouth dropped to her neck and he growled, "Come for me, baby," against her skin.
The tickle of his stubble sent tingles down her spine at the same time that his circling hips whipped the building pressure inside her into a hurricane threatening to shatter her at any moment.
"James," she whimpered, eyes squinting shut as her body tensed.
His lips brushed over hers, voice a little strained as he whispered, "I'm close too, Lil."
Her voice squeaked, "Don't stop—"
"I want to feel you."
She could only nod, all her focus zeroed in on the knife's edge where she hovered.
James's breath was ragged, a mirror of her own. "Can I come inside you?"
They'd already talked about how she was on the potion before, but as they hadn't ended up going all the way that night, they hadn't reached this pivotal question. Lily didn't hesitate; she'd never felt closer to him than she did in that moment, and she needed him, all of him, in every possible way he could give her. "Yes," she breathed, trying to open her eyes but finding them heavy with pleasure. "Please, yes."
He moaned softly as he pressed his lips to her forehead, fingers tangling deeper in her hair.
The rest of the world fell away, her brain going quiet, as the next nudges of his hips pushed her over the edge and into an eruption of sparked nerve endings. She heard her cry like it came from someone else, then heard James's moan echo hers as he changed his movements and started thrusting erratically, gasping breathless moans of fuck, baby, Lily. He shuddered when he came, dropping his face back into her neck, and Lily gasped anew at the sensation of him spilling hotly inside her.
She held him tightly to her, nails skating over his back in soothing circles as he deflated on top of her, all of his weight pressing her deeper into his bed. Though her heart still thudded in her ears, words now moved from her brain to her mouth with instinctive clarity.
"I love you, James."
He smiled, hair tickling her cheek as he nuzzled into her neck. "I love you too, Lily."
Fleetingly, her mind darted back to their very first kiss. She really should have known, should have recognized that the squeeze and leap of her heart at that first touch was the same every time he touched her—was the same now, when she heard those four simple little words that carried their own special kind of magic.
She'd loved him from the very beginning, even if she hadn't seen it yet, and while a prickle of guilt still nagged at her about that, she consoled herself with knowing now. Because now, with his hair in her hands and his heartbeat inside her, the delicate glow of the candlelight lighting up the way his body draped over hers, she knew she'd love him until the very end.
fin.