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greyeyedmonster-18 · 2 months ago

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(a prongsfoot//taylor swift cross-over episode. somewhere within a slytherin!sirius au.)

would've, could've, should've

James Potter was a good boy.

His parents had always said so.

And then his private tutors.

He’s such a good boy, Effie.

Smart.

An athlete. Even if his parents would’ve preferred James spend a little less time on Quidditch and substantially more time prioritizing his schoolwork, or his future, they were still so proud. The board in the kitchen papered with letters from James detailing his latest Quidditch win. Occasionally, they would come to a game and James would see his parents cheering alongside McGonnagal in this stands.

He’s so good, isn’t he Minerva?

Handsome. Though James knew that shouldn’t have necessarily been a part of what he hung his hat on. He couldn’t help it. His mother had told him.

And his parents friends who he had grown up around.

Every gobstones, mancala, bridge night his parents hosted, they would all gather around and praise James. Putting their hands on his face, and kissing his cheeks. Smoothing out creases in his dress robes, and complimenting how endearing his messy curls were.

So handsome, Jamie. You’ll make someone very happy some day.

He made excellent marks.

He didn’t smoke, even when his roommate Remus rolled his own joints in their dormitory and offered him to take a hit.

He didn’t drink, even when Quidditch victory parties took place in his honor and everyone handed around a bottle of firewhiskey or vodka or Merline knows what else to take swigs out of.

He didn’t swear, not a single thing worse than oh dear, worried his mother would hear him even at Hogwarts and scold him.

He said affirmations to himself in the mirror.

He made sure he got 8 hours of sleep a night and gave himself a bedtime.

He recycled.

He saw one girl his first year and made the decision that he was going to marry her-- Lily Evans-- and she would be his first, and only.

He was good.

He was.

If you would’ve blinked then I would’ve looked away at the first glance

It was like a switch had been flipped his seventh year. Maybe. Perhaps it had been switched earlier, and James had chosen to ignore the flickering, and focus on auburn hair, green eyes, pink finger nail polish. But then he was in the front of a room at a prefects meeting as Head Boy, and auburn hair, green eyes, pink fingernails blurred into the background. A season of colors faded to shades of grey, and James suddenly noticed black curls, light eyes. Monochrome changed to the boldest, brightest, most captivating colors in the universe. Sirius Blacks grey eyes were catching his across the great hall far too often these days. Gryffindor and Slytherin were on opposite sides, yet every meal--breakfast, lunch, dinner, hell if there was a midnight snack James was certain he’d be dodging eye contact from Black.

It was quiet at first.

Until Black started looking longer, holding James’s gaze from across the room.

Smirking slightly. Unblinking, unflinching.

Forcing James to look away first, feeling hot underneath the collar of his uniform shirt. And it wasn’t just at meals. It was during classes. When James would raise his hand to answer a question because he was good and he participated in class and was eager to impress Lily Evans with his Transfiguration, or Potions, or Charms knowledge, because that was going better than trying to impress her with a smile and Quidditch skill. But he could feel grey eyes on him as he spoke and answered.

It was infuriating.

Because James didn’t falter when Lily looked at him. But his voice cracked in the middle of a sentence answering a question in Potions because he noticed Sirius look up from where he had been taking notes across the room.

It was all the time.

The sweating, and the blushing because Sirius wouldn’t just look away.

“Do you have a problem, Black?” James finally asked, stopping before he entered the Great Hall, letting his friends walk ahead. Black had been walking from the dungeons alongside his brother when he had caught James’s gaze again. That smirk. The confident, long stride. Black’s brother snorted at James’s question, rolling his eyes and heading into the Great Hall without Sirius.

“Several, though I’m not sure they’re any of your business.”

“You’re staring at me.”

“Am I?”

Was he?

“Yes,” James said, unable to keep the question out of his voice.

“And how would you know that?”

“Know what?”

“That I’m staring. Seems to me, you might be staring back, since you’ve noticed.”

“Well, no. I just happened to look up, and you’re the prick who's staring.”

“What’s the fuss then?”

“I’m not making a fuss, Black. This is just a conversation,” James told him, folding his arms over his chest, “You know, talking. Like normal people.”

Sirius’s lip turned upward slightly, before he glanced at the watch on his wrist. Gold catching the light of the flickering candles in sconces on the walls. James hadn’t been so close to Black in recent years to see the veins in Sirius’s hands. The gold rings wrapped around his fingers. “As lovely as this conversation is, does it have a point? I’m rather hungry, and I’d like to have a seat at the table before the best roast is gone.”

James wasn’t sure he had a point.

In the plan James had concocted--though it was a loose plan-- in his mind before he decided to approach Black, he hadn’t actually gotten this far. Hadn’t thought Black would stop at all, and James hadn’t thought he would be in a position of having to explain himself, or make a request, or anything.

“Just…”

“Mhmm?”

“Are you? Staring? Or am I the prick here?” James asked again.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Sirius asked back, definitely smirking now, “I like what I see.”

James’s mouth went dry. He unfolded his arms from his chest, letting them drop to his sides and dangle stupidly.

It hadn’t occurred to James that Black would stop and have a conversation with him about the staring. It also hadn’t occurred to James why Black would be staring in the first place, other than to annoy him into oblivion. A deliberate tactic to throw James off.

Never…

“Don’t think too hard on it, Potter. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Sirius said, moving to grab the brass handle of one of the double doors, holding it open for James, “After you.”

It hadn’t occurred to James that Sirius Black had been noticing him.

you’re a crisis of my faith...

It was a dream come true, walking into the Slug Club with his hand laced with Lily Evans. He told his friends it was what he had wanted for years. Get the girl. And now he had her. And Lily was beautiful. And Lily was smart, and kind, and she had a laugh that sounded like a cat walking across a piano and James loved every wrong note.

And loved being in the middle of a party with her, watching her dazzle the room, and charm the pants off Slughorn, putting all the Slytherin’s to shame.

James told himself this is what he wanted for years. Get the girl.

He had just stepped away to use the lav, intent on coming back to join Lily, who was talking with a Ravenclaw over by a cabinet, and James took his time surveying the scene with a smile on his face. This was how it was supposed to be.

Then the curtain in the threshold between the hallway to the lav and the Slug Club room opened, Sirius Black wandering through. Black’s brother was around someplace. James pretended he wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t see Sirius anywhere. He had grown fond of the eyes finding him at the dinner table, and in class, and in hallways, and the rosemary chicken didn’t quite taste the same when James didn’t have to hide his smile between bites.

It had become a game. James loved games. James loved to win games, and loved even more when he made Sirius break the gaze first. Or the one time he made Sirius excuse himself from the table across the hall entirely. He wasn’t sure what the game was…exactly. Or if it was a game at all. But James loved to play it.

“Slughorn’s really letting his standards slip,” Sirius teased, taking the opportunity, perhaps the close quarters, to put a hand on his shoulder briefly. A friendly gesture. If they had been friends. If they had been anything other than two people in opposing houses, and borderline rivals for seven years until one of them--not James, of course not-- decided that wasn’t enough. And they had to play games across crowded rooms.

“I do just fine in Potions,” James responded looking at Sirius.

“Ah yes, this is the just fine at Potions, club.”

“I thought it was the slimy gits club.”

“Slimy gits who are just fine at Potions club. Has a nice ring. Still stands Slughorn has been letting his standards slip.”

“You missed dinner.”

“Pity.”

“It…was,” James said, and before Sirius could respond, “I’m here with Lily. Evans. Lily Evans. Head Girl. She’s just over there. She’s more than just fine at Potions…so she was the one who was invited. I wasn’t really, though I think I could be. Just not right now.”

“Aw. Maybe next year, maybe he’ll make an exception just for you,” Sirius nodded sympathetically, as if James had been passed over to be picked for a Quidditch scrimmage.

“Prick.”

“Yet you still missed me at dinner.”

“I didn’t say I missed you. I said you missed dinner, that's different,” James told him, “I didn’t think you came to these things.”

“Considering you have never been to one, that is quite a thought to have.”

“You don’t strike me as a person who goes to things,” James gestured, “With people. To talk. And have conversations over dinner.”

“It’s rude to talk with food in your mouth, see,” Sirius said with a grin, and James could practically feel the first bead of sweat form beneath the starched collar of his dress robes. They were violet, with navy blue thread that shimmered. Intricate designs on the hems of his sleeves and his pants. James was suddenly aware that this was perhaps the nicest he had looked in front of Sirius, this close to Sirius, and he stood up a little straighter.

“So you come to these things?”

“Not usually,” and Sirius grinned again, and James threw his hands in the air. Sirius Black may have been the most annoying person in the castle. Yet. “My brother…” he trailed off as means of explanation, “King of Slimy Gits.” Sirius reached into the inside of his robe pocket--the garment black on the outside, but lined on the inside in swirling pale peach and gold--and pulled out a small bottle.

James eyes widened, moving so he could stand in front of Sirius, pushing them closer to the curtain than to the room, “Is that a flask?” James whispered harshly.

And Sirius laughed.

Like a dog delighted to see a bird flying by at the park. And James suddenly forgot about Lily by the cabinet, and the tinkling of her laugh, and the pink fingernails and the green dress robes she had on, that he had complimented extensively as they walked to the party hand in hand.

His mother always told him he got tunnel vision.

If James wanted something enough, he wouldn’t give up on it. Begging for a toy or a new broom or a trip to the zoo as if his life depended on it, and his parents would usually give-in. Eventually. James was used to people giving in.

Lily gave in.

Now, James wanted nothing more than to make Sirius laugh again.

“Careful, your Head Boy is showing, Potter.”

“You’re a prefect. Just tell me there's pumpkin juice in there? Or some fancy imported water because you cannot possibly drink from the tap like everyone else?”

“Alright then, it's pumpkin juice,” Sirius said with a grin before bringing the flask to his lips. James could tell by the dark red color it was not. Could tell by the stain it left on Sirius’s lips.

James swallowed.

“That’s not allowed on school grounds.”

“Hm,” Sirius said, tilting his head to the side, “I didn’t peg you for such a good boy. With all the detentions and your infamous pranks…”

“I’m not! I know…and Gryffindor! They have parties sometimes. For Quidditch? Yeah, I’ve been at parties with alcohol,” James emphasized, barely refraining from mentioning that his friends smoked marijuana and muggle cigarettes too, and he had been around that at parties, but held back. “But it's very different bringing alcohol to a school-party when there is a professor, no, several professors, right over there!” James gestured behind him, and Sirius laughed again, “And, this is very different than going around painting loin cloths on all the portraits.”

“It’s cute, really,” Sirius said, taking another sip. The back of his neck grew hot, James watching Sirius’s lips around the base of the flask. Cute. “And here I was going to offer you some. It’s only polite.”

“And what are you without impeccable manners?”

“Exactly,” Sirius said, and held the flask out for James anyway. “It’s wine.”

He could’ve said no. As he usually did.

He should’ve said no.

James had tasted wine before. The occasional dinner with his parents. A sip or two.

It wouldn’t be so bad.

And James couldn’t explain. But now he wanted to press his lips where Sirius’s had been. He gestured with his head, the two of them disappearing behind the curtain and into the quiet hallway that led to the lavatory. Out of sight of Lily. Of the party.

He grabbed the flask from Sirius without saying anything further, taking a drink. And Sirius noticed the way James had put his lips on the rim of the flask, tracing the exact lines with his mouth. As if the cracks in their lips would line up, and it would be almost like it were happening skin to skin.

“There’s more, should you like it,” Sirius said, taking the flask back from James, fingers overlapping for the briefest of seconds, and James inhaled.

“I should get back to Lily.”

“You should,” Sirius told him, eyes locked in James’s as he took another drink from the flask.

Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve…

The party ended later than James would’ve anticipated. Well past any bedtime he had set for himself, students funneling out through the curtain.

He blamed it on the sip of wine. Because James didn’t drink, and even the smallest amount would throw him off kilter, and now he was in some sort of trance. A haze. That started and ended with Sirius Black. Who stared at him throughout the party.

Who passed by James more than once, offering him the flask in secret, while Lily was charming Slughorn. James accepted. His own lips stained.

Lily smiled up at him, her arm linked through his as he walked her back to the Gryffindor dormitory.

To her, it looked like James was being helpful, kind, considerate, courteous, good when he volunteered to help clean-up after the party. Simply offered Slughorn extra hands. But James had seen Sirius talking with Slughorn at the end of the night. Had overheard, and interjected, and James couldn’t help himself.

It was the wine.

It was the haze.

He could’ve walked back with Lily to Gryffindor. He could’ve kissed her at the bottom of the staircase, his hands on her waist, and her hands around his neck. He should’ve gone to bed.

If you’d never looked my way...

“There’s a little more. Finish what you started, Potter?”

It was just the two of them. Soft music playing from the wireless in the room, Slughorn clapping Sirius on the back roughly and leaving the room in his capable hands. Telling him to keep an eye on, James with a playful wink.

Sirius had poured the rest of the contents of the flask into an empty cup, offering it to James.

You started it.

“You started it, actually,” James said, the thought leaving his mouth. It was immature, maybe. It was careless. It was true. This was entirely Sirius’s fault. Though he took the cup anyway, looking at Sirius in his expensive black robes, with the fancy lining, and his pushed-back curls, the room sparking around him. Pristine and clean, and orderly. Table cloths neatly folded in a pile, and buzzing.

It was the wine.

That was all.

Sirius smiled softly, raising his own glass of wine to connect with James’s, “Cheers to finishing then,” he said. James had barely swallowed his sip of wine, trying not to chug all of it in one gulp, when Sirius put down his own cup and stepped forward. A hand under James’s jaw, and Sirius pressed their lips together. Abrupt, and surprising, until it wasn’t, and James could feel himself lean into Sirius’s hand. Sirius’s tongue parted James lips, and warm wine spilled into James’s mouth from Sirius’s slowly.

Oh, Merlin, save me.

James felt the liquid pour down his throat, carefully swallowing, not wanting to choke or gag or do anything to ruin what had become the highlight of the evening.

Sirius pulled away, keeping his hand under James’s jaw, “You drive me absolutely mad. I hope that was alright. Just thought you should know.” Sirius was still close enough his lips skimmed against James’s with every word he spoke. Another warm kiss. James was certain they lined up perfectly, just as he imagined they would. And if Sirius had tasted poison, he would’ve pulled away and left. Spit James out at the first chance.

Tell me again. Tell me more.

“Cheers to finishing,” James repeated.

“Now we should go,” Sirius said, and made to separate, his fingers lingering on James’s face as he moved his hand away.

James acted fast. Nothing had ever been more important than convincing Sirius to stay put where he was in front of James, kissing him.

“No,” he choked out, pulling Sirius back forcefully, “Finish what you started.”

if i only played it safe....

If the Slug Club party had never happened. If Sirius had never touched James, he would’ve gone on as he was. Stayed in line with the righteous. Been good, just has he had been his entire life.

But.

Oh.

James knew once they kissed, every opportunity he could, he would.

Once upon a time, there were weeks between meet-ups, since they had first kissed at the end of the Slug Club party. Not leaving the room until well after midnight, James lips raw, and neck covered in bruises the neck day he hid with a scarf, and sweater, and his shirt buttoned all the way up to the collar.

Once upon a time there was a whole winter holiday between them. Sort of. Because Sirius had written I’m returning early to the castle, and James jumped up to pack his trunk, writing Me too in response. But now there were barely days between when they last kissed. Counting down hours and seconds. Hardly any space and time at all.

Lily had met his parents over the holiday.

And Sirius was on top of him as they rang in the New Year.

Any resolutions, Potter?

James never answered the question, he was too busy trying not to scream as Sirius thrust into him.

i would’ve stayed on my knees, and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil

Everyone had left the prefects meeting. Except for Sirius, who lingered behind. James made an excuse, untangling his hand from Lily’s, telling her to go on without him, because he had left something very important in the dormitory and only he could go get it. A chaste kiss on her cheek, and he turned on his heel to rush back to the classroom. Undoing his tie. Unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt before he even got back inside the door.

The sense of urgency was embarrassing and obscene. Absolutely desperate to be touched by Sirius again.

Sirius locked the door magically.

“Is there an emergency, Potter?” he quipped, clearly noticing. He always noticed. Every hair out of place, every voice crack, and every drop of sweat. Sirius noticed.

“Shut up,” James responded, pressing his mouth into Sirius’s roughly. Open-mouthed, wanting to swallow the other boy whole. Taste every single inch of him. James noticed too. When Sirius’s eyes would flutter closed, and when the softest groans would escape his mouth. James trying new things, exploring, wandering, wanting to hear what else Sirius would do.

If he touched there.

Kissed there.

Sirius’s hand went to the back of James’s head, pulling on messy curls at the nape of his neck. James knew what to do, even if it meant his knees would have bruises. James fell to his knees onto the carpet in the classroom, his uniform trousers barely acting as a buffer.

Sirius didn’t have to say a single word. Not anymore. Not since the first time James had found himself in that position, and wasn’t quite sure what he had permission to do, or how to do it. But Sirius gave answers to the questions James didn’t know to ask, guiding with a hand at the back of his head, and a low voice. James could’ve stayed on his knees. He wanted to. Suck, and play, and hear Sirius whisper James over and over again.

And the gods honest truth is that the pain was heaven

They never stayed long after. Breathing ragged, clothing thrown about the room, and they made quick work of getting dressed again. Though James took his time to stare. And Sirius took his time to plant not-so-innocent kisses anywhere he could reach. Because more than a few times, a kiss compelled James to come back for more.

He couldn’t help it.

“Merlin, Black…” James breathed, stepping out of Sirius’s reach so he could pull on his trousers.

“You’re just too good to me, Potter,” Sirius responded easily.

Good.

Except James’s girlfriend was back at their dormitory waiting for him.

Except when he was under Sirius, he was cursing, and moaning, and begging for more. Oh Dear, and Merlin, didn’t seem to cut it when his hands were trapped above his head, and his legs were spread open, Sirius licking down his stomach, finding the sensitive areas by his hipbones. James’s head thrown back.

Except James no longer had a bedtime, and was breaking curfew just to have another hour with Sirius. Abusing his authority, really. Calling it rounds, when James really knew why he was wandering the halls. Rounds was a convenient excuse.

And he only felt guilty after it was over.

In the quiet, when he was doing up his belt buckle, and Sirius was nearby, pulling green and silver robes over his head, and fixing dark curls. He only felt guilty when he had to walk out of the room. When they made a plan for who would leave first and who would wait 20 minutes. When he returned to Gryffindor and Lily was there with her smile waiting for him.

“I can’t keep doing this.”

James would say it almost every time. He wondered when, or if, Sirius would ever call him pathetic for making statements he never held onto. He wondered if he would ever mean it.

Almost as if he said it...well, he tried.

“Getting dressed in the dark? I would agree, you look like you’ve been caught in a windstorm,” Sirius said, scanning James. Sirius took a few steps before reaching forward to pull James closer by his belt buckle. James hand went to Sirius’s bicep to steady himself from the abrupt movement. This was how the trouble started all over again.

“That is not what I meant,” though James did not stop Sirius’s hands from fixing his collar. Nor did he stop Sirius from tucking in James’s shirt, giving his crotch an extra pat as he finished. James squirmed at the touch.

“Of course not.”

“You can’t keep…you…just…I can’t--”

I can’t say no. I don’t want to.

“Well, I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to,” Sirius said a matter of factly. Smugly.

“I really wish you hadn’t started this.”

“As much as I love to take credit, you, darling, are giving me far too much…” Sirius said, darling rolling off his tongue effortlessly. It made James blush. Because darling was used between his parents, the height of endearment. Darling, was formal and meaningful. Sirius made it dirty. Sirius whispered it in his ear when they were naked. And Sirius said it after, before they would re-enter a world where they connected with stares and absent shoulder brushes in the hallway, and other tiny moments that made James’s skin hot.

James didn’t know how to tell Sirius he wanted him to take the blame.

Because James used to be good.

And now…

And now that I know, I wish you left me wondering

#prongsfoot #a prongsfoot au #slytherin!sirius #james potter #sirius black #i very much enjoyed writing this one!!!#i've always HC'd james as like a good boy. its in all my fics already. and this was very fun to explore #have fun!!

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