Looking In
Theme: Sight
Summary: MWPP era—in which James sees things that everyone else seems blind to.
Warning: Mild slash
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James was fairly certain that his friends believed him to be stupid. That was all that there was to it. Or, perhaps, they were the stupid ones for not realizing what he could plainly see. It was a difference between night and day, he reasoned, as he watched his two friends interact.
James Potter was egotistical, but he was mature enough to realize that in his sixth year at Hogwarts. Perhaps it was being a pureblood and being treated like a God on earth that lead to this narcissistic ego fest that he'd enjoyed for the past six years of his wizard schooling life. It may also be because of his lasting friendship with Sirius Black, who was nearly as bigheaded as he was.
But James was not stupid, even if Sirius and Remus thought he was.
Or, maybe they too were unsure of what was happening between them. It was subtle, at first, and James wasn't sure when he first became aware of it himself. But he couldn't help it when he saw them together.
Their eyes would flicker towards one another's faces before looking away, almost in that shy manner that Peter looked at his current crushes. But there was something deep and meaningful in those looks, something that he couldn't place.
He recognized such looks when he saw himself in the mirror one day after an almost successful outcome with Lily. His hazel eyes, framed by his large glasses, outlined every deep emotion swimming in his very soul—emotions he wasn't even aware of himself. He cared for Lily, and he dared say that Remus gave Sirius the same exact look.
There was something gentle about Remus. James and Sirius had a theory that Remus was so mild-mannered because it was the only thing he had true control over. He lost control once a month, and being able to reign in his emotions and impulses was his one way to maintain some level of sanity.
Remus was an admirable person, and James was glad that they'd somehow managed to become friends. Currently, the four of the marauders were sitting in the common room, working on their homework. Well, really, it was more of Peter struggling to do his homework, James procrastinating on his homework, Sirius don't absolutely nothing, and Remus working diligently and not bothering to continue any conversation directed at him.
"You'll wear yourself out, Moony," Sirius said gently, looking down at Remus fondly as he draped himself over the chair Remus sat on. The said werewolf grunted, showing that he'd heard Sirius' words, but didn't feel them good enough to grace with a response.
Sirius' eyes were soft, softer than James had ever seen them before. Sirius always had that look about him whenever he was talking to or discussing their werewolf friend.
Remus tapped his quill against his parchment and said to Sirius, with a tiny sigh, "I only have a couple inches left to write for this essay, Sirius, and I'd like to get it done as soon as possible. I don't hold the same capacity as you to stay up at all hours completing mediocre homework."
"I'll have you know that those so-called mediocre homework assignments mange to get passing marks, I thank you," Sirius said, and James could hear no malice or offence in his best friend's voice.
"We can't all be as amazing as you, Padfoot," Remus replied, finally lifting his head from where he was scribbling the benefits of using dragon skin gloves instead of the alternative whilst handling dangerous plants. He gave the dark-haired boy a warm smile and a soft look dancing in his golden eyes.
Sirius sighed, and James wasn't sure if he was being melodramatic or if such a sigh was that of wanton need while staring down at the light brown-haired boy with soft, golden eyes. His eyes glowed in the dying sunlight as the sun set behind the forbidden forest.
They seemed to be lost in their own world as they stared at one another, this tangible, undeniable presence between them. There was something there that neither of them could deny, and James reckoned that they weren't about to deny it, either.
Did they think him stupid though? Were they aware of those looks and casual touches? Were they aware of it themselves… this unmistakenable… something… that danced between them like a magical spell gone wonderfully right?
He occurred to him that, obviously, his two good friends were in love with one another. It also occurred to him that they were males—and he'd been well aware of such a fact since first year. He doubted that anyone could be so thick not to realize they were both boys. But somehow, that fact didn't matter. What did gender matter when those deep, meaningful looks penetrated his very soul—and he wasn't even the receiver or giver of such gazes?
Did they know they were in love… or were they dancing around one another in a continuing spiral, never truly meeting together, but contributing to the other's path?
He knew that Sirius was a dense bigheaded moron who wouldn't know Moony's affections if they tap-danced up to him and slapped him painfully in the face. Sirius was the type of person who acted first and then asked questions, and never truly read into other people unless the need was very important.
But Moony was reserved, and quiet. There was a high possibility that Remus knew of his own feelings towards James' best friend. There was also a high possibility that Remus would never act on such feelings as long as he was unaware of Sirius' inner musings.
In short, James reasoned, they were both idiots.
"You work too hard, Moony," Sirius berated, warm affection in his voice that the large boy didn't bother to mask—probably because, at this point, such a tone of voice was normal between the two teenaged boys.
"Someone's got to," Remus replied, giving Padfoot a gentle smile.
James watched them as their eyes met and flickered and hesitantly Sirius reached out and brushed aside a stray wisp of Remus' fringe. Suddenly, James felt like he was in a place he shouldn't be, a place where he was not welcomed.
He stood up, but neither Sirius nor Remus seemed to be aware of his presence anymore. He approached Peter, who was struggling over his transfiguration homework. He tapped his short friend on the shoulder and he squeaked, looking up at his hero.
"Let's go to the library, Peter," James suggested, smiling down at his friend. He glanced over at Remus and Sirius who were still dancing in their own little world, not caring about anyone else outside each other's eyes. "We can ask Lily for help on your homework."
Peter nodded, glancing over at Remus and Sirius without comprehension. He could not see what James saw. So James was the only one who could see. Figures.
"Come on," James urged and they left the common room, leaving Remus and Sirius in their little world and the spectacle-wearing boy prayed that someday, the two of them would open their eyes and see what was right in front of them.