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apalapucian · 1 month ago

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immortals

what happens:

he kisses her to keep her there.

wait, let's amend that. she kissed him first.

he kisses her back to keep her there.

distraction. attention-aversion. whatever. that's his job, you know? not always, but that's his job tonight. usually this is sirius's. any other time james would be the one crawling in the vents, weaving through laser labyrinths, running from one dumb goon to another with an item or two in his backpack worth ten times his entire sorry life.

that's also usually evans's job, with her suit and her mask and her frazzled braid and all, and he honestly thought he'd have the upper-hand tonight, switching with sirius to keep her from the shadow troupe's auction chest. seemed brilliant, when he suggested it. except she and mary and dorcas had the same fucking idea.

so tonight it's dorcas (or mary, who knows?) and sirius in the heart of the action, while he's on a rooftop with evans, green-eyed redhead menace who just won't let them have a moment of peace, for god's sake, and whose lips apparently taste as good as they goddamn look.

he doesn't dare close his eyes — he's downright sure she already has a plan churning in that pretty head of hers — but he also doesn't pull away. he's not a moron. she tastes like cherry and wine, and — and nothing, it's just… this is a nice, new kind of high, that's all. this. her.

and again, he didn't move first. they were bantering, as per usual, something about taking this pathetically long for the marauders to get the job done, him being out here instead of sirius, figuring out too late that it's not only james trying to keep people from where they should be tonight. and then, just when he decided there's really not much to do now besides trust sirius and his team with this one and just make sure evans stays here, with him, where she can't help dorcas (or mary) — she just — just swoops up and fucking kisses him, all out fast and hard and out of nowhere, and he — what the fuck was he supposed to do?

he gets into it a little too fast, a little too eager, he knows that, but he nudges her forward all the same, till her back hits the parapet. she doesn't seem to have a problem with that. his hands find her waist, and then her wrists, because her hands are starting to wander, and he can't have that. wants it, sure, wants it bad, but he's got a little blood left in the right head to be sensible, thanks so much. he shouldn't let his guard down — or too down, as is his only choice at this point, let's be honest — because this girl can kill him. and not just because she's smirking against his lips or because she's looking straight right back at him while she bites lightly at his lower lip and it's driving him insane. it's because, quite simply, literally, she just can.

but also: it's not like he hasn't thought about this before. it's not hard to. she's beautiful, she's brilliant, too much so for all of their own good —

he feels her hands tense for a beat — then she twists them off his grip with unprecedented strength before he could tighten his hold, and then he's jumping back to dodge a kick, a chop; skidding across the floor, grazing his palms against the rough, uneven floors of the rooftop. he curses at her soft giggle, at the blur of red as her braid whips against his neck, at the heavy thud of her gloved hand against his sternum. he lets her have her way for a full minute before letting a blow of his own land, smirking at her when she winces.

four, five minutes later, they're both bruised and out of breath and someone, remus, fucking finally, is murmuring in his earpiece. dorcas seems to be out of sirius's tail for the time being, but not for long. peter's taken that opportunity to bug mary's feed and keep her out of their respective locations, but that's also only going to last for thirty seconds, two minutes tops, till she figures it out and fixes it. in that time james has to jump off the rooftop, southwest, land on the corner of napoleon and neptune, and sirius will be waiting below with his motorcycle. peter's turned off the block lamps and rigged the high street traffic lights. so, okay — james has to be out of the perimeters in the next minute and a half, or else remus will have to devise another getaway plan, which he really doesn't want to do, he tells him, because he and peter are parked by the bay and he has a half-eaten sandwich in his hand and he's enjoying his view right now quite a lot.

"and oi, quit the flirting," remus chides before signing off. it's all james can do not to burst out laughing.

he doesn't answer though. evans would know what's going on if he so much as said 'okay', and remus is used to the lack of responses from him and sirius over the comm anyway. instead, taking a quiet, determined breath, he starts dragging the fight southwest as discreetly as he can, idles his mind and folds his instinct (took a lot of practice, that), and then — trying not to flinch when she poises for an especially crafted attack — he lets her shin land strong and heavy on his side. it doesn't take much to fake the yelp and the collapse because, damn her, that did hurt. he hits his hand hard against the floor for added effect, his fingers protesting, if only to distract her from his other hand disappearing in his jacket pocket.

she falters at his pain like he knew she would. the moment she stops moving, that split-second when she unclenches all of her tense limbs, he pushes off the ground and tackles her down.

she's cuffed to the rusty railings before half her favorite profanities have tumbled out of her mouth.

he salutes her goodbye before he swings over the battlements. The wind is cold against his face, his glasses are askew, and his knees and knuckles sting. but he smiles.

the taste of cherry and wine lingers on his tongue, stubborn and sweet.

—

what (really) happens:

lily kisses him because she's curious. because he's so close, and so beautiful, and, well, she wants to. and she knows — no way she could be wrong — he does, too.

she kisses him because mary has fed peter's surveillance with pre-recorded footages of the inn the day before, and the boys have been watching yesterday's fabricated theatrics since approximately two hours ago. no rush. no worries. dorcas is inside, sure, and she's no doubt having the time of her life fucking with sirius, likewise watching him believe he's winning.

lily kisses potter because there's not much else to do. this isn't a heist. not theirs anyway, not tonight. that was yesterday for her team, when the auction items were in transit. now that wasn't easy, but they got the job done, didn't they?

they knew they were going to bag this one (not without problem, but definitely with way more advantage than the marauders) because dorcas, to their utmost convenience, happens to be a member of the infamous shadow troupe herself. that is, at least, until the troupe discovers her treachery, but that's a bridge to cross when — if — they ever even get there. the point is, they have the auction items, have had them long before these four idiots, and tonight is nothing more than shooting some egos a good hundred notches down.

but, hey. he kissed her back.

lily hears sirius rev off in that fantastic motorcycle of his. honestly, if they weren't such a pain in the ass, she thinks they'd be really good friends. she wonders as she picks the cuff locks how long before potter regrets and hates her for that kiss.

she's freed her hands by the time dorcas lands neatly on the eastern ledge, from two floors up the abandoned building across the alley. lily frowns at her wrists. the railings were rusty as hell, and now her gloves smell like blood. not cool, potter.

"that's not going to be a problem is it?" says dorcas, walking towards her, her mask in her hand now.

"no?" says lily, confused. "they'll wash off."

"i meant james."

god but it's so disconcerting to hear his first name just like that though. "what do you mean?"

"i saw you kiss him."

"oh. i thought you just got here."

dorcas shrugs. "black got boring after a bit."

"you should take on lupin next time. he gets so unpredictable sometimes."

"you're avoiding the question."

lily takes off her mask as well. "what was it again?"

"wouldn't james be a problem?"

"he's already a problem. like, to society and whatnot."

"hm. you like him, don't you?"

lily arches an eyebrow at her. "you make out with sirius all the time."

"part of the job. sometimes boredom. sometimes he looks sexy."

"well, same."

"'fraid it isn't, lily, and you know it," says someone else, a familiar, scratchy voice in her — and dorcas's — earpiece. right, so mary hasn't fallen asleep through the pseudo-heist then, like lily thought. "they're grouped at the baywalk now, by the way," mary says, the usual faint sound of rapping keys and incessant beeping in the background. "black and potter are… yep. there they are. just got there. freak of a driver, that bloke. pretty sure peter's watching you two right now, that or he just left his feed on, i'm not sure… right. that's it then. good job, girls. i'll be at cobalt creek in five. i mean, you're muted, but you better get out of there, just in case…"

they do.

—

dorcas's question and lily's supposed answer get lost in the next hours. what doesn't get lost? james potter's eyes and lips and hands. until the last second before lily falls asleep, his phantom touch leaves her triumph wanting.

—

at the manor, covered in green, stinky slime and the shadow troupe chest open and empty before them, james removes his glasses and slowly wipes what grime he can off his face. remus and peter, who were lucky enough to be across the room, too busy and hunched over their stupid laptop when the blast hit, look up at the other two in alarm.

nothing but dead silence for a second, and then —

"oh it's so fucking on," says sirius, banging the lid shut, shaking his head and mirroring James's gaining smirk. "they. are so. dead."

—

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#jily #jily*#fic tag #rewrite tag #marauders #modern au #jily au #one of my favorites #this was written 10 years ago lol #the great ao3 migration #anyway this is one of my favorite AUs #title really just because when i started writing this because of the intro of FOB's immortals #not even the whole song. just the intro #james potter #lily evans

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