Not sure where this is going...but it doesn't matter. Hope you all are having a great December!

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She watches him from the doorway. He's shirtless. Relaxed. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants and socks. His body draped casually over the imitation Eames chair in a way that indicates he is completely comfortable. Content. Even with her here.

She watches him. As he lifts a carefully rolled joint to his lips. The remains of his marijuana kit set out delicately on the glass table in front of him.

He inhales.

Holds the smoke in his lungs for a long moment.

Exhales.

The smoke curling from his lips.

Floating off into nothingness.

He tilts his head back. Closes his eyes. And waits.

For her to come join him.

"Lily," He says, opening his eyes. They're a brilliant bright hazel. They're focused on her.

He knew she was watching. Knew he was there.

She steps into the room, cautious with her near-naked body, and tugs awkwardly at the oversized dress shirt she's wearing. His shirt. And settles onto the leather couch next to his chair.

He offers her the joint.

She shakes her head.

It surprised her. How much he smoked.

She'd known he smoked cigarettes. Saw him smoking them often enough after classes, outside pubs, waiting in line for the clubs. But the weed caught her off guard.

She doesn't know why.

James takes another hit off the blunt and squints at her. He's not wearing his glasses. They were lost somewhere in the chaos of his bedroom as they ripped each other's clothes off.

She smiles nervously.

He looks away.

She doesn't really know what to do. In this situation. She's had boyfriends before. Never anything that serious, but still. But James is…

Well.

He's James.

She doesn't know how to act. What to say, what to do. How to feel.

So much of their interaction had been fighting, arguing, hating each other, and now that they're…

Now that they're here. She doesn't know what to do.

He's so casual with her.

So blasé.

It throws her off.

He throws her off.

She doesn't know if he actually likes her. Now that he has her. Or if he just liked her because of the chase. If he liked the chase more than he likes her.

She doesn't know if she actually likes him. Or if she loves him.

She doesn't know.

"Where's Sirius?" She finally asks, looking around the empty apartment that James shares with his best friend. Who is normally, always, attached to James.

"Therapy," James answers through a cloud of smoke and Lily feels her eyebrows raise.

"Sirius goes to therapy?" She asks. So many things are catching her by surprise. So many realizations. So much coming to light that she feels like she doesn't even know James.

Doesn't know any of them.

Anything.

James snorts.

"Yeah, Sirius has got therapists on top of therapists. He's got em lined up every other week. He's got fucking specialists for every fucking issue he's got, he pits them against each other and compares their advice." James laughs. "He loves the attention."

He pauses for a long moment, thinking. "It's good though, that he loves the attention, that he likes going to therapy, is open to it, to having people dissect his thoughts all the time."

Lily opens her mouth to say something.

But James continues after a soft silence.

She had thought he was done. She'd, once again, misread him.

"If he didn't, he'd be dead."

And once again. He shocks her.

And she realizes she doesn't really know this man. That she spent the past seven years arguing with. The past seven years obsessed with. Consumed with.

She doesn't know anything about him.

It makes her squirm and she's suddenly hit with the desire to flee. To get the fuck away from this unknown man. To get out of his unusually nice and clean and organized apartment and to get out of his clothes and just—

To get away.

"I think I'm going to—"

The door swings open with a flourish and Sirius flounces in. A wide smile on his beautiful face. Immediately the air in the apartment changes.

Warms.

"Lily! What a lovely surprise!" Sirius exclaims as he shimmies out of his leather trench coat, revealing a pair of black Levi's that have been practically torn to shreds. Exposing more skin than they seem to hide. And an oversized Metallica shirt. All black. All the time.

Sirius is the most cheerful goth Lily has ever met. A brilliantly beautiful smile on his face every time she sees him.

"Ahhh, and we're smoking too." He says, doing a spin around the kitchen island, and stealing a beer from the fridge. He catches Lily's eye and dangles the beer from his long delicate fingers. "Can I tempt you, dear?"

Lily steals a look at James. He doesn't seem to care either way. She nods. Sirius beams. Opening the beer bottles with his teeth. A move Lily knows from personal experience is nearly impossible to pull off. But Sirius does it like a pro.

He walks over to them in the living room, handing her the beer and settling on the floor in front of them. His back casually resting against James' legs.

"So…" Sirius says in a flirty voice and James swats at him before passing him the joint. "What are we talking about lovebirds?"

"You." James answers in a flat voice. "And your intensive therapy sessions."

Sirius hums, the white smoke at odds with his inky black hair. "Of course, of course. Nice to know you can't go an hour without thinking of me babe." He says, tilting his head up to look at James. James looks away and Sirius smirks. Turns back to Lily, "I mean, if I didn't have intensive therapy, I'd be dead."

James snorts again and smiles at Lily. Still squinting without his glasses. And it feels like a secret look. A shared look. And Lily feels her cheeks warming.

It makes her feel a bit better.

About him. Her. Them.

"Why do you need intensive therapy?" She asks, before realizing. "Oh god, you don't have to answer, I'm sorry—"

Sirius waves her off laughing.

He has a lovely laugh. An authentic laugh. It reminds her of her childhood dog, Sparky, and his high-pitched barking.

James has a smoky laugh. Rich and deep and intense.

He doesn't laugh as much as she thought he would. Another thing about him that caught her off guard. But Sirius laughs all the time.

"Oh, you know, abusive parents, suicidal tendencies, rampant mental illness running through my family, having to deal with your bloody boyfriend 24/7." Sirius chuckles and James swats at him again.

Lily feels her cheeks turning red again. At the mention of a boyfriend.

She and James haven't even…talked about that yet. Haven't even talked about what they're doing with each other.

"I'm included in your fucking issues?" James asks, a smile on the edges of his lips, and Sirius rolls his eyes.

"Duh." He gives Lily another brilliant smile and the warmth in the room only grows. She feels better around James. When she's around Sirius. She determines.

"I didn't know your parents were…" The words slip from her lips before she can catch them and she feels a flicker of shame. At acknowledge them. At not knowing. Not realizing. Seven years of school together, and then university together, and now this thing with James together and she never even picked up on what, looking back, even in this exact moment, were obvious signs.

Sirius waves away her concerns once again. "Don't even worry about it babe, not like I fucking advertised that shit."

But there's something in the way James looks at him that makes Lily think differently.

"Show her the scars," James says suddenly.

And Sirius looks at him. Something passing between them that Lily can't understand. But then Sirius peels his t-shirt up over his head.

And Lily gasps.

She hasn't seen a lot of men shirtless. Just her few past boyfriends. Her dad when he would wash the company car on Sundays. Her cousins when they were kids. James.

And now Sirius.

The first thing she notices isn't the scars. They're the tattoos.

She'd always known Sirius had tattoos. His body was littered with them. Small ones inked right above his fingernails. One on the underside of his wrist. A couple snaking up his arms. One that peaks out from his shirt collars on his neck.

But she just wasn't prepared. For how many. He had.

They cover his back.

A marriage of inky black marks against pale white skin.

Undeath them all though—

Are scars.

Covering every inch of his back.

Thick silvery welts crisscrossing his back. Small burn marks. Heavy gauges. Delicate cuts.

"Watch this," James says, finally stubbing out his joint on the ashtray across from Lilly and reaching down. His thick, strong, calloused hands gently brushing over Sirius' pale skin.

And Lily watches.

As Sirius relaxes into James' touch.

"This one?" James asks, fingers touching a thick welt.

"My dad was big on the ol' leather belt beatings."

"This one?"

"Cigarette burns from my mum."

"This one?"

"A fucking knife from my cousin Bella." Sirius laughs.

And James laughs too.

"He's got them all memorized," James says. And Lily watches as he looks at Sirius with something like marvel in his eyes. "He's got a photographic memory."

"Eidetic memory." Sirius corrects, leaning back against James' legs. James' hands resting on his naked shoulders. Slowly working on the sinewy muscles on Sirius' back. Massaging them. "And it's only worth shit as long as I have you around to piece all the information together for me."

Sirius drops his head back onto James' lap, his pale eyes floating over to Lily, examining her.

This time he doesn't smile.

Just takes a long swig of his beer.

His throat moving slowly as his swallows.

James runs a hand through Sirius' hair and smiles. At her. A hungry look in his eyes.

And suddenly Lily is reminded that she's only wearing a thin layer of cotton and nothing else.

In a room with two shirtless men.

Her face must have turned beat red because Sirius snorts.

Beer spewing from his mouth as he laughs his barking laugh with wild abandon. James' deep smoky sounding laugh joining in to create a melodious sound that blankets the entire apartment.

And after a moment, Lily laughs too.


Hope you guys liked it! Please leave a review! I'm hoping to turn it into a series and add another chapter soon!