I don't own Harry Potter. This story contains slash, if you don't like it don't read it.

Some people love through accidental touches, through pining glances and hushed whispers.

Sirius Black is different (of course). His love is adoration; worship of the purest kind. Sirius Black loves through undying devotion and unwavering loyalty, through childlike trust and bravery that far exceeds his years.

Of course, James is included in that as well.

But it isn't because he's in love with him.

It's because they are friends, best friends, and it's just what friends do.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

James and Sirius both join the Quidditch team in third year, both as Chasers. Individually, neither of them are too far above average, but when they work together as a team, they are unstoppable.

They win the first match of the season, a rivalry game with Slytherin. It was expected, of course, what with all the injuries plaguing the Slytherin players, but all the same they are ridiculously happy.

James in particular is elated. He jumps off his broom ten feet above the ground and is the first one to land. The rest of the team surrounds him, jumping up and down, a pile of scarlet cloaked bodies with James at the center of it all.

They are a mass of embracing and screaming and James, of course, is all too eager to join into the fun. He throws himself onto Leo Cassius and lifts Emma Madison clear off the ground.

When he comes to Sirius, he pushes their mouths together in a euphoric kiss.

Sirius smiles against his lips and pulls them even closer together, but before he can even begin to think what is happening, James is off to congratulate the Beaters.

Sirius stays where he was, his mouth hanging slightly open, and tries to ignore the not-unpleasant tightening in the bottom of his stomach.

When they get back to the tower, though, James seems to have forgotten it, and Sirius is sure not to mention it.

They're friends, after all, and Sirius imagines that this is what friends do.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

They finish the map at the end of fifth year. And since OWLs are coming up and they need an excuse to celebrate something, James and Sirius slip under the invisibility cloak and head to Hogsmeade for Butterbeer and sweets.

But they get sidetracked in the Three Broomsticks while trying to decide whether to order that new flavor of butterbeer, and between them they manage to get Rosmerta to serve them firewhiskey to drink while they mull it over.

Sirius can drink more than James, but three and a quarter bottles of Odgen's is more than enough to make anybody tipsy. And Sirius has guzzled it all, while James is still finishing off his second. They are telling lewd jokes and pouring firewhiskey down each other's throats, and if Remus and Peter had been with them they would already be back in the Common Room with warm butterbeer. So it's lucky that only two can fit under the invisibility cloak anymore, because they both prefer this.

It's cold out, for May, but Rosmerta has the windows open and their cheeks are rosy and James' nose is bright red.

He turns to Sirius to laugh at something that Sirius doesn't think he heard, and Sirius certainly isn't thinking when he leans in and presses his lips to James' in a sloppy approximation of a kiss. Not at all.

James laughs too loudly and glances around at the other customers. "Ah, Sirius," he says heartily, clapping him on the back, "I think you're drunk."

Sirius laughs a little, too, because he can never help laughing with James. His face is warm and he takes a gulp of firewhiskey to avoid looking at his friend. "Okay," he says.

James is shaking his head and there is a wan smile on his face. "I think we should get you back to the castle," he says gently, grabbing Sirius' hand and pulling him to his feet.

Sirius bites his lip, looks closely at his unfinished firewhiskey, and nods. "Yeah," he says, "We should."

They are mostly silent as they make their way back through the tunnel. James has an arm around Sirius to stop him from swaying, and the other clutches the cloak to make sure it doesn't drag on the floor.

When they are halfway back, Sirius says, "We forgot the butterbeer," and giggles madly.

James smiles. "Yeah, I guess so," he says, "Ah, well. Bet Remus and Peter are mad."

Sirius tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling while they walk.

They don't talk again until they reach the front of the tunnel. After James checks the map to make sure the coast is clear, and before he pulls open the door, he turns to Sirius and says, "Hey, you know you're my best friend, right?"

Sirius nods solemnly, still floating from the firewhiskey. "Of course," he said, only slurring it a little. "You too, Prongs. You're mine."

James visibly relaxes. "Okay, then," he says, "Let's get back to the dorms. It's late."

It is late, later than they had guessed. Everyone else is in bed, which is lucky, because they smell like dirt and drink.

Sirius, of course, waits until they have crawled into bed to start throwing up. And James, of course, is the one who helps him wobble to the toilet, and holds up his head as he leans over the basin.

Sirius sits on the counter, pale and sweaty, while James wipes his face with a wet towel. "Thanks," he says faintly.

"It's nothing," James says.

By the time James is helping Sirius back to bed, it's three in the morning, and he can't help remembering that they have Potions at seven.

Sirius is silent as James tucks the blankets around him, but when he reaches down to pat his forehead, Sirius clutches his hand. "James," he says, "will you--"

He doesn't even have to finish. "Of course," James says smoothly, interrupting his friend.

He crawls in beside him and slips an arm around his waist. Their breathing is synchronized, and James can feel Sirius' pulse throbbing behind his ear.

It's nothing, of course. Just what friends do.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

Of all the days that Sirius could have chosen to run away from home, James thinks that today is quite possibly the worst.

A freezing rain has been pouring from the sky all morning, and huge gusts of winds that rattle the windows blow by every few minutes, as if the icy streets aren't hard enough to walk on already. And Sirius, concerned only with making a dramatic exit, had not thought to bring a cloak or even a broomstick.

Now he sits, shivering, at the edge of James' bed while James rifles through his wardrobe for something that will fit his friend.

"Here," he says finally, jerking out a set of plain green robes, "My mom got these for me to grow into, but they should fit you alright."

Sirius' jaw is clacking too hard for him to speak, so he simply nods and pulls his wet shirt over his head. James averts his eyes until Sirius crawls into the fresh clothes.

"Thanks," Sirius says finally.

James shrugs. "What're friends for?"

Sirius snorts and falls backwards onto the bed.

"I'll get you some food," James says, and hurries into the kitchen, leaving Sirius' mind to wander.

When James reappears, holding a bowl full of cereal and milk, Sirius sits up and eagerly takes it from his hands. He is about halfway through his bowl when he stops, spoon in midair. "I love you, James," he says earnestly.

James blinks, surprised at this very sudden and very confident declaration. "Yeah, I love you, too, Sirius," he says, because he does and it hardly seems strange to say at all. And then, because it feels like the right thing to do, bends down and kisses Sirius' forehead.

Sirius blinks and a small, awkward grin begins at the edges of his mouth. James watches as he begins shoveling cereal into his mouth at an almost alarming rate.

The cereal is nearly gone, when James says, in his clumsy, sixteen year old way, "You're like a brother to me. I love you like you were my brother."

Sirius nods. "Yeah," he says, "me too."

And it doesn't matter if it's a lie. It doesn't even matter that Sirius doesn't really know it's a lie.

Because they are friends, and sometimes even friends have to lie. It's what James needs, and it's what friends do.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

Sirius is the first person James tells about his impending marriage, naturally. Sirius is the first person James tells anything.

"She said yes!" James howls when he stomps into their shared flat at two in the morning. "I asked her to marry me and he said yes!" He flies across the room to the chair where Sirius fell asleep earlier that the evening, pulls him to his feet, and twirls him across the room.

"I'm getting married, I'm getting married!" he sings gleefully, pulling Sirius into his arms.

Sirius' face is carefully blank. He stands rigid for a few seconds before relaxing into his friend's embrace, wrapping his arms around his back in a tight hug before stepping back far sooner than he usually does.

"That's great, mate," he says, in a voice so hearty as to be artificial. "I'm really...I'm really happy for you two. You'll be great together."

James eyes his friend. "You think so?" he asks hopefully.

Sirius feels a twanging in his chest. And because he can be every bit as selfish as he is brave, he says, "Sure. Once you learn how to clean up after yourself. And she grows a sense of humor. And you guys stop fighting every five minutes."

James looks crestfallen. "We don't fight that much anymore," he say defensively. "And I thought you liked Lily. You said you did."

"Oh, yeah," Sirius says, "She's wonderful. A real catch for you. I hope...I hope it all works out for you two."

He pushes his way outside, leaving James standing alone in the middle of the room with his arms hanging motionless at his sides, and heads to the Hog's Head to fill the cold pit in his chest with something more substantial.

And when he comes back the next morning, neither of them mention the conversation again, and James sets to work on a hangover potion. Both have learned over the years that the one thing friends can never stop doing is forgiving.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

James and Lily buy their own house about a week before the wedding, but the night before the actual ceremony James stays with Sirius—something to do with an old muggle superstition Lily believes in.

They sit together on the back porch. Sirius is relaxed in a lawn chair, while James gets up every five minutes and paces across the tiny lawn. After about twenty minutes or so, Sirius says, "Oh, stop worrying. Just sit down and enjoy your last night as a bachelor. You and Lily will be fine. And if you aren't, well, then I'll marry you myself."

It seems to work, a bit. James slowly sits down in the seat next to Sirius. "No one would let you get married, Padfoot," he teases, "You'd send whoever it was to the insanity ward of St. Mungo's in less than a week."

"You've lived with me since we were eleven, and you're still sane," Sirius points out. "Well, sort of."

James punches him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm different," he says.

"I know you are," Sirius says, smiling sadly.

There is a peculiar silence between them. James is looking at Sirius, his head cocked slightly, as Sirius stares at his own hands.

Sirius takes a deep breath and chances a glances at James. "I love you, James," he blurts out finally, his voice hoarse.

James looks away. "I know," he says.

"I mean, I'm in love with you," Sirius clarifies quickly, before he looses his nerve. "In addition to just...loving you."

James swallows and looks back at his friend again. "I know," he repeats, meeting Sirius' gaze head-on.

Sirius blinks. "Oh," he says. "Well, I'm sorry. I just—thought you should know. Before. But I guess you already did."

"It's okay," James says softly, "You don't have to be sorry."

Sirius sucks on the inside of his cheek before he manages to speak. "I mean, I'm sorry for telling you. I didn't mean to—I'm okay with you and Lily. I really do want you to be happy. And I understand that you aren't...in love with me. I do. And it's okay. Because I really do love you like I would love a brother. You're my best friend." And he leans over and presses his lips to James' forehead.

James catches his hands before he can pull them back and holds them silently in the space between the two chairs. He rubs his thumb across Sirius' palms, gently stroking right across his lifeline.

He stands, still clutching Sirius' hands with his own, and pulls them both to their feet.

It is dark out, and the air is hushed. James holds Sirius in his arms, rocking them both back and forth, back and forth, as he traces his fingers up and down Sirius' spine. Sirius' heart races and he is learning what it means not to breathe.

"You're my best friend," he whispers in Sirius' ear, and Sirius buries his face in James' neck.

James brings his hand up and tangles his fingers in the short ringlets at the base of Sirius' neck. It's softer than Lily's hair, and wraps easily around his fingers. He strokes it, over and over again, until he can hardly tell what he is doing, he is simply being with Sirius and comforting Sirius in the only way he knows how, and he cannot distinguish between rocking and standing still, he only knows that this is the way things are.

Finally, he brings his hand away from Sirius' neck, and brings it to his face. He tilts Sirius' chin so that he is looking James straight in the eye, and then kisses his cheek, almost at the corner of his mouth. Sirius closes his eyes and stifles what might have been a sob.

James' lips are soft on Sirius' skin, and they feel every pore, every hair. He tilts his head so that his nose is lightly touching Sirius' cheek, and then pulls away, his hands on Sirius' shoulders.

Sirius' is shaking terribly, and James strokes up and down his arms to calm him. When he has nearly stopped trembling, James tilts his head to the side and carefully studies his friend.

And then, calmly and quite deliberately, he brings his face forward and presses their lips together.

This time the sob escapes from Sirius' mouth, and James catches it with his own. Salty tears from Sirius' eyes fall into their joined lips.

They are silent as they kiss, a simple acknowledgment of everything that means Sirius and James, or the nameless love and trust that exists between them. It is something they have always done without touching.

So Sirius does not think to question when James takes his hands and leads him into the flat, past the two smaller bedrooms into the larger guest bedroom. He has nothing to protest when James silently pulls both their shirts over their heads, when he reaches down and begins to help Sirius peel off his jeans.

It is simply their friendship, everything they have every been, boiled down to the most fundamental and human parts.

And Sirius knows, even as James is lying on top of him and kissing him, that tomorrow they will wake up and floo to the church. They will put on their dress robes and stand at the front as Lily marches radiantly down the aisle. Sirius will stand beside James at the altar as he says his vows, and he will play the role of best man to perfection.

And after the wedding, he will give his speech, and dance with everyone present, some of them twice. He knows that he will dance with James at least once, and he knows it will be the last time they ever do.

But none of that seems to matter right now.

After all—they're friends. And this is what friends do.

Isn't it?


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