#Prongsfoot microfic

[eastwindmlk]

"I think I have always loved you." & Prongsfoot

Thank you! This one got a little wild, a little action-y! I did not expect that! There are 310 words! So, I kept it short (yeah for keeping New Year's resolutions!) My inbox is still open! These were prompts but, don't let that limit you!

“Now? Really? You have to bring that up now?” Sirius shouted over the roar of spells being slung left and right. Bolts of white and green and blue arched all around them and Sirius could barely focus enough to deflect a nasty curse from one of the masked ones. 

They knew there was potential for enemies on this particular mission—they were freeing a prisoner from the LeStrange estate, after all. Sirius would not have expected anything less. What he did not expect, what no one expected, was for Voldemort himself to be present. 

James casually pulled up a shoulder and turned away from the fight to look at him, making Sirius’ heart drop. “James, focus!” he yelled. Just then, a spell whizzed by his ear, and the scent of burnt hair filled his nostrils. 

A powerful stunning spell flew from James’ lips. “That’s why I had to say it! It was distracting,” he complained and closed the distance between them until they were standing shoulder to shoulder. 

Sirius hated to admit it, but he understood, in a way, that words like that could cloud one's judgement if kept in too long. The problem was, now he had words of his own lingering on the back of his tongue. 

“Bella is going to hate me,” Sirius announced, one arm wrapping around James’ side as he pointed his wand upward. With a well-placed Bombarda the ceiling around them came crashing down in a could of dust and the almost musical shattering of the gaudy obsidian chandelier his cousin loved so much. 

He allowed himself a brief moment, a handful of heartbeats to bruise his lips against James’ in a breathless, hasty, long overdue kiss. "I think I have always loved you, too.” A warm smile flashed across his stoic features, lasting only long enough to press their bodies together fleetingly. “Now, run!”  

[forestdeath1]

Prongsfoot week 2024. Day 3 - First Kiss

Snippet from my WIP. After the Prank. + An illustration

“You think I’m a bad person, James, don’t you?” says Sirius when he hears the creak of the door and the floor. He knows it’s James. By the steps, by the way he walks. Sirius always recognises James.

“What?” James asks, confused.

“I’m a bad person,” Sirius takes another swig from the whiskey bottle they keep for special occasions. He’s sitting on the old bed in the Shrieking Shack, staring blankly ahead, rolling the bottle between his fingers. “That’s just who I am. You get it?”

James sits across from him, pulling his legs underneath, and gently takes the bottle from Sirius’s hands. Sirius doesn’t resist. The clink of glass hitting the floor breaks the silence, and Sirius looks down at it instinctively, avoiding James’s gaze.

“Look at me, Sirius.”

Sirius lifts his head. They haven’t exchanged a word since Dumbledore’s dressing-down, because Sirius had left straight after. The last place he wanted to be was their dorm.

“I don’t think that at all, you hear? To me, you’re not a bad person.”

“You’re not mad at me?” Sirius asks, surprised.

James frowns for just a second but then continues, “No. Never.”

Sirius lets out a sad laugh.

“Then you’re the only idiot in the world. Because everyone else says the opposite.”

"Who?"

"My family. The way Dumbledore looked at me when he scolded me today. The way you looked at me when you ran off to save Snivellus,” Sirius raises his brow pointedly. “But you know what the worst part is?” He pauses, pretending to wait for an answer. “It’s that I don’t feel guilty.”

James shakes his head, looking at Sirius with his deer-like expression.

“Listen, mate. Don’t talk rubbish. You're not a bad person. You're a very good person, who bad things have happened to.”

Sirius lets out a quiet, bitter laugh but stops abruptly, looking at James like he’s seeing him for the first time. It’s hard to believe James actually thinks that. It’s hard to believe anyone does.

James sighs heavily, and still gazing at Sirius with that unbearably sympathetic look, he reaches out, resting his right hand on the back of Sirius’s head. Then, with a gentle tug, he pulls Sirius towards him, resting their foreheads together, closing his eyes as he whispers:

“I love you, you idiot. Just the way you are, you hear me? I love you. No matter what. I know who you are. And even if everyone turns their back on you, I’ll always be here with you.”

“You don’t understand what you’re saying,” Sirius replies quietly.

“I do. Trust me. Just trust me. I’ll never leave you. No matter what.”

Sirius’s heart races. Whether from the alcohol or James’s painful closeness, he can’t tell. James’s hand rests on the back of his head, his glasses almost poking Sirius’s nose, his breath heavy on Sirius’s face, and those fingers dig slightly deeper into his hair as their noses touch. And it’s that accidental, fleeting movement that pulls Sirius forward. He gives in to the burning feeling inside, no longer able to deny the obvious, unable and unwilling to resist. His lips brush against James’s, and his hand wraps around his messy hair in response. James pulls back sharply, eyes wide in shock.

Ruined it.

He’s ruined everything.

Ruined the last good thing he had.

But… it’s Sirius. That’s just what he’s doing today — ruining things.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius blurts out, closing his eyes, shaking his head in disappointment. “I… I’m sorry. Forget it, if you can.”

“Sirius,” James brushes the loose strands of hair from Sirius’s face, and Sirius opens his eyes to see the still-stunned expression of his friend.

James doesn’t look disgusted; he looks surprised. That’s strange. It shouldn’t be like this. He should’ve been angry, should’ve hated him, should’ve hit him. Sirius crossed a line, betrayed James, their friendship, with his messed-up behaviour.

Crossed a boundary.

“Hit me. I deserve it,” Sirius says, staring directly at James.

James blinks a few times.

“How drunk are you?”

Sirius sighs heavily. He could easily blame the alcohol right now. But he won’t. Yeah, he’s a bit drunk, and his feelings are heightened, and his inhibitions lowered, but alcohol has never made Sirius do something he didn’t want to do. He always does what he wants.

“It’s not the booze. I’m just a natural fuck-up, that’s all,” Sirius jokes sadly, trying to lean back onto the pillow, but James grabs his shirt and pulls him into a kiss.

It’s fast, strange, messy. James can’t kiss. He didn’t even seem to fully open his mouth, and Sirius feels like laughing — either from the fact that James didn’t reject him — once again — or from how much of a virgin James is.

Sirius doesn’t have time to process anything, he just grabs James’s head, yanking his glasses off, and forces James to open his lips and teeth so he can kiss him properly. Sirius can’t hold back, and James isn’t resisting, and it all feels so right, like Sirius has finally come home after a long journey, like he’s reunited with his missing piece, the one without which he felt incomplete.

In this kiss, which James clumsily but willingly returns, unsure of where to put his hands, Sirius feels the whole universe shrinking in around them, the answers to all the questions about life and why they’re here. This kiss, for a fleeting moment, takes away all the pain and sense of not being enough that Sirius feels, declaring with its very existence that stars and suns can be together, even if it’s only for a brief, pre-dawn moment.

…

:3

[roalinda]

I'm not even going to say anything about the date that this microfic should have been written for. Just know it was sometime last year. 😭

@prongsfoot-microfic

☆27 November 2023☆

☆Prompt: Shine☆

Sometimes James wondered about Sirius’ name. 

Sirius, the brightest star of the sky. Sirius, the most luminous masterpiece of the Canis Major. Sirius, the dog star. 

Sirius, a star which the Earth was lucky not to have it close, for it shined too bright. It could burn and blind easily. It could effortlessly devour. 

Sirius, dazzling and cruel, to be admired from afar, never to touch. 

Then, there was the sun. 

James knew that some people liked to compare him to it. He thrived in the pleasure of it, in the knowledge that people considered him kind and benevolent like that, giving life and warmth, yet, also a dangerous heat to be tentative around. 

Everyone thought that with his generosity and ready smiles, it was him who shined the brightest among their little group of friends, but James knew better than that.

The brightest was Sirius. 

The sun looked brighter because it was closer to the people's orbit. It was a mirage, one that Sirius liked to play along with, letting James take the lead unless the leash became too loose. Then there would be a reminder, in many forms, be it a sarcastic comment or a gentle nudge, for James to know his place, to stop seeking too much attention and burning the place to the ground.

James didn't care. As long as Sirius paid him heed, he was vigorous. Sirius was never utterly ruthless towards him, not even in the harshest moments of his brutal honesty. He was the sun and Sirius was his brightest star, one that no one could get close to but James, which was good because James Potter had always been too arrogant and spoiled to share.

[not-jeguluses]

Thinking about love confessions again per usual this time Prongsfoot though.

Sirius jus coming up to james one day and sleepily resting his head on the other man’s shoulder. sighing softly as James pauses making his breakfast to enjoy their closeness for a minute.

Before Sirius pulls back abruptly with an “I forgot to tell you,” and James turns just in time to catch Sirius eye as he says, “I’m in love with you.”

James gapes, “what?”

“Yeah.” Sirius shrugs. “i know you don’t love me back, obviously, but i kept meaning to tell you. you know how we don’t keep things from each other.

James gapes in shock but Sirius is fleeing, already halfway out of the kitchen.

“Plans with Moony!” He calls behind him. “See you later, mate.”

And then Sirius is gone and James’ eggs have burned to the pan.

[isabel-lillah]

Ever since July 1976, James and Sirius have always disappeared for the entirety of the second weekend in July.

Every year, without fail, they pack their stuff in the morning of the second Friday of July and they don't come back until Monday morning.

No one knows what they do or where they are during this time. They refuse to talk about it.

What no one knows is that James and Sirius lied about Sirius's escape from home. They told everyone Sirius ran away in late August and got to the Potters without much harm.

The truth is, however, that Sirius got kicked out with several hexes being done on him the second week of July. Even though he tried, he didn't make it to the Potters. He collapsed on the edge of a forest, several kilometres away from their house. It was a mere coincidence (or fate) James chose to change his usual running route that day and found Sirius just an hour later.

Ever since July 1976, James and Sirius use the second weekend of the month to go camping and get drunk in a certain forest.

[myprongsfootera]

Prongsfoot Microfic: Kindred

@prongsfoot-microfic - 2/28 - 237 words

-

“That’s not fair, they can read each other’s minds!” Peter complained when Sirius figured out James’ pictionary clue from nothing more than a circle with an arrow pointing into it. “They shouldn’t be allowed to be on a team together. How could anyone get ‘Captain’ from that?”

“I can’t read his mind, I’m just better than you are at this game” Sirius said, cocky from their seventh consecutive victory.

“We are simply kindred spirits,” James agreed, a wide grin across his face, “who know each other very well.”

“Bloody cheaters is what you are,” Peter muttered, still sounding irritated. Remus, his partner, was just sitting next to him on the couch looking entertained. He, at least, had gotten used to losing ages ago. From the first evenings they’d started playing, really. 

“We simply work well together,” James said. He didn’t sound like he was taunting - his tone was friendly - but Peter still took offense to it.

“Then partner with me next time and Padfoot can go with Moony. It’ll be a more even match up.”

Remus laughed, which brought all of their attention to him.

“Oh come on, Pete, that’s never going to happen,” Remus said, “They’re going to be a team in every game we play them. You simply have to get used to it.”

James and Sirius grinned at each other madly because Remus was right. They were a team until the end of time.

[courfee]

@into-the-jeggyverse | "couple" | wc: 383

the one where james is in love with sirius

James has seen the way Regulus looks at him when he thinks no one will notice. He has seen his eyes follow him during Quidditch matches, linger on the parts where his shirt clings to his chest with sweat. Has seen the glare whenever James flirted with someone else. Even if Regulus would have never said it out loud, James could have figured out how the younger boy feels about him.

He also knows how he himself feels about Regulus. Which, most days, is blatantly indifferent, if he doesn’t focus on the couple relevant details.

James doesn’t much care for Regulus watching him desperately. He only cares for the icy grey eyes turning hot with want when he unbuttons his shirt too far. He doesn’t care for Regulus throwing insults at his head when they pass each other in corridors. He cares for the sound of his voice, sharp and biting as he tries to conceal his underlying flirtations. James doesn’t care for the way Regulus looks walking with his friends, or playing Quidditch, or sitting by the lake under a tree. He cares a lot however for the soft, dark curls framing his face. For the proper way he carries himself, straight back and confident steps. For the rings on his long, slender fingers, contrasting his light skin. For the way he tilts his head back when he laughs, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

When he looks at the details, it is Sirius he sees. When he looks at the details, it is the only time he gets to feel wanted by the one he truly cares about.

Sirius doesn’t know, of course. James doubts he would much care if he did, with the way he clings to Remus’ side at any hour of the day, fingers adorned with silver rings tracing the lines of a body that isn’t James’, pretty pouty lips leaving kisses on someone else’s lips, hands that aren’t James’ in his soft, dark hair.

So James pines from a distances, and he wants from up close. And when he pushes Regulus against the wall in a secret passageway between classes, hands in dark curls, licking across pretty pouty lips while silver rings press cold into the muscles of his back, his mind sings the name of another man.

[lilacella]

Was supposed to work on a horror story, but I slipped and wrote this prongsfoot microfic instead.

James is drunk and Sirius is subjected to it. What could possibly go wrong!

Prongsfoot, 937 words

(ao3)

Kiss me, I'm drunk

Sirius pulled a face and lifted his Advanced Curses book, as a drunken James dropped into his bed, right onto his chest.

Sirius had retreated from the party in the common room a while ago. Too many people talking over each other. He couldn't stand it. It reminded him too much of the fancy dinner functions his parents used to drag him to, before he finally fucked off, over a year ago.

He hadn't thought James would notice his absence too much. Lily Evans had been there as well, after all. But after last summer, James seemed to have lost interest in her for whatever reason. Sirius couldn't see why. He had just started to like her...

But apparently James had noticed his absence. And now he was up here, in his bed, pouting at him ridiculously.

"You left me!"

"I didn't think you needed supervision."

James snorted and shuffled up to the pillow, looking up at him accusingly.

"I don't need supervision, I need company!"

"Not enough company at the party, huh?," Sirius asked, mildly amused, but secretly flattered that James seemed to prefer him to everyone else.

He glanced at the tipsy boy next to him. Touseled hair and glasses askew, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. He couldn't supress a fond smile.

James shook his head.

"They are all bad influence, Padfoot. Made me do shots! You would never do that," he slurred.

Sirius chuckled. "I would never make you do shots? Why, because I'm so mature and responsible?"

James groaned and swatted at him. "Noo, I meant...You wouldn't let anyone make me do things! You'd have my back!"

"Did you not want to do the shots?"

James pulled a face. "Well...It seemed like a good idea at the time...But now everything is spinning."

He was so drunk.

"I'm so drunk," James complained.

"Barely noticed."

Sirius was about to pick his book back up, when an uncoordinated hand landed on his cheek.

"You are so pretty, Padfoot."

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes. James was being silly. Eventhough his chest felt weirdly tight and warm at his words.

"Thank you," he replied blankly.

James propped himself up on his arms and pushed the book aside once more.

"No, seriously! Noone should be allowed to be this good-looking! You are a guy!"

Sirius frowned. "What's that got to do with it?"

James swayed and involuntarily leaned closer. His hazel eyes unfocused behind his glasses.

"Because I always have to look at your face! Because it looks so good."

He sounded almost accusingly.

"I can't stop looking at you, Pads. And you're a guy! I shouldn't be looking at guys like that..."

Like what?, Sirius wanted to ask, but he didn't. His mouth felt dry. James' face was a little too close for his comfort. Although...It didn't feel too bad, actually. He cleared his throat.

"You are drunk."

"Yes, we've established that," James murmured. "Drunk is bad. Makes me want to do stupid things."

James' hot breath grazed over Sirius' lips. He was suddenly acutely aware of every spot where his friend's body was pressed against his.

"As if we need alcohol for that." Sirius tried to make his voice sound lighthearted and nonchalant, but he could hear the nervousness in it. His heart was inexplicably racing.

James' eyes flickered to his lips.

"You shouldn't look this good."

Sirius didn't get to reply.

He would lie, if he'd said that he'd never thought about how James' lips felt. But he had buried these thoughts deep down, in the drawer of things that he didn't want to deal with. It had become rather crowded in there.

And now it plopped right open, spilling its contents onto the metaphorical floor of his subconscious.

James' lips slotted in between his, and Sirius thought about how his heart always skipped a beat, whenever James put his head on his shoulder.

James' tounge licked clumsily over his mouth, trying to find a way in, and Sirius thought about how the only thing that had kept him going over the summer back at home had been the thought of James, waiting for him on the train on September 1st.

James' upper-lip stubble scraped against his cheek and nose as his tounge ventured further, batteling with Sirius' for access, and Sirius thought about how his heart had plummeted when James had started fancying Lily.

James' body dropped heavily ontop of him, unable to support himself any longer, leaving them pressed together, and Sirius thought about how his skin would always tingle for minutes after James had touched him, even after the thousandth time.

James' kisses started to slow, to trail sloppily over his cheek down to his neck, and Sirius thought about all the times his mind had wandered to his best friend, while getting himself off. About the shame he had felt each time. Because surely, James would be disgusted if he knew.

James' face buried into the crook of his neck, hot breath against his skin, and Sirius wondered if maybe he should stop him, before they did anything they'd regret in the morning. That James may regret in the morning.

James' breath started to even out, softly starting to snore, and Sirius sighed. The heavy weight of realization pressing on his chest.

Or maybe it was just James, laying on top of him.

Sirius absentmindedly threaded his fingers into the dark locks of his best friend, sleeping soundly. Blissfully unaware of the emotional avalanche he'd just kicked loose.

Oh, Sirius thought, trying to calm the painful fluttering in his chest, closing his eyes. I'm so fucked.

[ang3l0fde4th4ndd0gs]

Prongsfoot Microfic:

Prompt Word: Forest

Word Count: 540

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Give me ten minutes, okay?”Sirius pleaded with James who was stretching for yet another Quidditch practice too early in the morning. “Or even skip practice.”

“I can't, Pads. You know that.”

“You CAN. You just WON'T.”

“We would get caught anyway.”

“Then we'll go out and have a good time in the forest. Lean against a tree or lay in the grass and be as loud and crazy as we want.”

“Crazy, huh?”James teased.

“Pleaseeeee.”

“After practice, I promise.”

James started to leave for practice. Sirius grabbed him by the back of his practice jersey.

“Prongs, please? It's only one practice.”Sirius pleaded again.

“Just one? You say that every time.”

“And you tend to at least let me make you late. Even though you go annoyingly early.”

“Okay, okay. Let me change and we'll go to the forest like you said. Only for a bit. I can't be late again.”

“You have two hours anyway.”

James leaned down and kissed Sirius' forehead.

“I love you.”he whispered before getting changed into street clothes.

“I love you too.”

James made quick work of getting changed into his usual hoodie and jeans before Sirius was pulling him out the door and out of the school to go to the forest.

“Sirius, slow down.”James said, half laughing and half desperately trying to catch his breath.

“You said we didn't have much time.”

“We don't. But you don't have to sprint like that.”

Sirius pulled James behind a tree and leaned against it, the bark slightly poking his skin through his leather jacket and T-shirt.

“Beautiful as always.”James whispered as he rested his arm above Sirius' head.

“Shut up and kiss me, Potter.”

“And sassy as always.”

“Not my fault I want my pretty jock boyfriend to kiss me and kiss my neck before he has to go back to practice.”

James gently kissed his boyfriend and wrapped his arm around Sirius' waist. Sirius happily kissed back and gripped James' hoodie in his hands.

“I'm so so in love with you.”James whispered as he leaned down further to kiss Sirius' neck.

“I love you too. Kiss me more.”

James laughed softly and looked at his boyfriend. Sirius smirked and rested his hands on James' cheeks. James kissed Sirius a few times.

“Is that what you wanted?”James asked.

“Hell yes. Your lips feel good on mine.”

James took his glasses off his face and put them on the collar of his hoodie. “Of course they do.”

“You're perfect.”

“So are you.”

Sirius slid his hands into James' hoodie pocket, pulling him as close as he could get. James smiled and tilted his head to the side to let Sirius put his head between his collar and jaw. Sirius did exactly that and slid one arm around James’ waist.

“Is this what you needed? To be held?”James asked, carding his fingers through Sirius’ raven coloured curls.

“I was gonna ask to be fucked. But, this is better honestly.”

“Do you wanna go back to bed then?”

“No, the forest is quieter.”

“And more dangerous.”

“But quieter. And I get to really be alone with you.”

“I just want you to be safe, beautiful.”

“I am safe. You're here.”

@prongsfoot-microfic

[lostwriter--xx3]

Slightly Haunted

@prongsfoot-microfic

abused!James microfic dedicated to @rosemelodyshah <3 TW: Abuse, dark F&E Potter

...

The floor wasn't tiled. It was panelled, like the walls. A deep, woody hue. An almost lofty colour, but too hard to be completely comfortable to stand on. The difference between Sirius' heritage and aristocracy and his heritage and aristocracy was purely political — both houses had the ancient panelling with the tell-tale tallow drips. Between his feet, there were two drops of candle wax.

"I suppose you do this on purpose?", His father's voice wasn't angry, just resigned.

James was very sure that last week, there was only one wax drop on the floor. He kept his gaze down.

"Why, James? Why? After everything we have done — all the money we have poured, though goodness knows I don't like to bring it up!"

James kept his gaze down. The drips looked grey. A very deep grey, like an overcast, stormy night.

"Look at me, young man! You know you are one, I pray!"

James looked up, guilty. Again, he saw the Sirius' letter scrunched up in his father's hand. Again, he felt a tallow trip of lead in his stomach.

"He scored more than you, damn you! Don't you see? A Black! How could he be your friend? He is more than your family's council, I suppose?"

He is trying to sabotage you, distract you, ruin your reputation while...

"He is trying to sabotage you, distract you, ruin your reputation while he builds one for himself!"

Tears sprang up in James' eyes. He couldn't help it. The words were a blow to his guiltiest insecurity.

James had not been selected Prefect.

"He intentionally sabotaged you from become Prefect! He knew his family's awful reputation would get him nowhere, do he pulled you down with him!"

Remus had.

"How else could that werewolf's leavings win over you? Over you, damn it! After so many summer tutions, so many camps, so many private tutors — how many did that Lupin boy have? All the money— I don't like to speak of it, but all the money!"

I love my friends.

"Your friendships will ruin you", his mother warned. "Mark my words— they won't be grateful! Only family remains. Your friends will not chose you over their family." Hateful tears were in her eyes. "Only you are damned enough to do that."

There were few more grey drips on the floor now. All years.

James bit down on Sirius' lip, hard, trying to clear his head. Sirius gasped, leaning closer. "Yes."

The dorm was dark— and empty. James reached out, struggling with Sirius' robes. Sirius pulled apart, pulling them over his head. In the half light, James could see him brilliantly. The half shy, half cheeky smile. The invitation in his eyes. The flush on his cheeks. A dozen cuts on his arms from petty scrapes. Fresh bruises on his necks. So lovely, so perfect, so personal, so familiar.

What if that was real, and this isn't?

Sirius swooped in for a hard, intense kiss. "You're so goddamn lovely, mate."

"Funny", James muttered, breathless. "That's what I was thinking."

Sirius pressed his lips harder against him, teasing his mouth open. As he slipped his tongue over his teeth, he mumbled. "I love you too goddamn much."

How much is it worth to me?

"Everything", James whispered. "You are my everything."

Sirius' eyes flit open, meeting James' already wide, open ones. And Sirius' eyes were grey. A tallow-drip grey, like an overcast, stormy sea. So, James closed his eyes.

[prongsfoot-microfic]

List of Prompt Words for June 2024 Microfics

Old months' prompts Masterpost

Prongsfoot Microfics is a no-pressure, zero-commitment, daily challenge for short drabbles and ficlets featuring James and Sirius. Choose a word that inspires you, write a micro-fic about it, and tag us in it.

Introducing a new monthly category: 5 Bonus Theme Prompts!

You can use any of the theme prompts to create different types of media - pick a line or theme that inspires you, and create a playlist, moodboard, collage, edit or anything else prongsfoot-related and share it with us!"

We are excited to see your works for this month!

See the FAQ for more info or shoot us an ask

[in-flvx]

Warming my hands on the bridges I've burned

My first entry into these new @prongsfoot-microfic prompts, with a little moodboard. I took all pictures from Pinterest (Sirius' board and James' board).

[forestdeath1]

Poet

@prongsfoot-microfic

January 23, 1977

James lies with his eyes closed on the dusty bed in the Shrieking Shack, his nose buried in Sirius's waist. His left hand casually rests on his friend's thigh. Sirius, leaning against the headboard, is flipping through the pages of some yellowed book, faintly illuminated by the dying light of sunset seeping through the cracks of the old windows.

"What's that you're reading?" James mumbles sleepily into his friend's shirt.

"Some muggle poetry. Lily gave it to me," Sirius responds.

"Why does Lily give you books?" James lifts his head slightly.

"Because, unlike you, I'm not a toerag. I can actually talk to her without making a fool of myself, you know?"

"Oh, shut it," James exhales, lightly hitting Sirius's book with his hand before rolling onto his back. "She likes me."

"Of course, she does," Sirius agrees, without looking up from his book. "Everyone does."

"Right," James pretends not to hear the irony in Sirius's voice. Or maybe he genuinely doesn't.

"Muggles can write beautifully, did you know?" Sirius asks a few minutes later.

"Nah," James answers lazily, yawning and stretching. Today he had to get up even earlier than usual – Stone had set a penalty training for their team for "improper conduct on the field."

"Listen to this," Sirius starts reading, sliding his left hand into James's hair.

Sirius twirls a lock of James's hair around his finger while his voice fills the room with the dramas of human lives, clothed in rhymed lines. James looks at the log ceiling, studying the patterns of darkened grooves and scratches, listening. 

Sirius has a beautiful voice. He even makes poetry sound interesting. Poetry? Since when did James care about poetry? But with Sirius, even poetry seems fascinating.

Well, it's not like he's genuinely into poetry, but he likes how Sirius reads them – like he's the hero of these stories, not just a bystander.  If any of them has a refined soul, it's definitely Sirius, though he'd never admit it. 

This boy has a knack for finding the hidden poetry in the prose of life – something James has always lacked. Sirius – a lyrical child of the night. Daunting, dark, and dangerous, but only to those who haven't yet learned to understand it, who haven't seen that he is a reflection of the most dazzling white light.

"Do you like it?" Sirius asks after a while.

"Yeah," James whispers, turning back towards Sirius and pressing his face against his side, slipping his hand under the shirt to rest it on Sirius's chest. "Write me a poem," James looks up, smiling slightly.

Sirius laughs softly and clears his throat dramatically.

"Oh, James the Magnificent, greatest of the great, brightest of the bright..." he begins theatrically, extending his hand in a caricature of a gesture.

"And who's making a fool of themselves now?" James sighs, suppressing a chuckle, and lowers his head back to Sirius's waist. Sirius flicks him on the head in response.

They lie like that for a while. James hears the rustle of turning pages and the howling of the winter wind. He feels the warmth of Sirius's body under his palm. They're always warm, both of them. Moony often jokes that they can use them instead of warming charms for their dorm.

"Actually, I found a poem here," Sirius suddenly says, "just needs a little tweaking..."

"Tell me."

Sirius pauses for a moment, then flips through the pages and stops at the right one. James raises his gaze to him, looking up – Sirius has always dubbed this particular expression as 'the deer look'.

Sirius thoughtfully shifts his gaze from the book to James, smiles with one corner of his mouth, ruffles James's hair, and, returning his grey eyes to the book, quietly says:

"He is my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I think this love will last forever: am I not wrong?"

"What did you change?"

"Just the last line. It's originally about loss. 'I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.' But I like my version better. You?"

"Me too," James lifts himself on his elbows, presses against Sirius's ear, and whispers, "I think this love will last forever," then kisses him, moving lower down his neck and deeper, sliding his hand under the shirt. "You are not wrong."

___

October 31, 1981

He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Funeral Blues by W. H. Auden

[roalinda]

July 2024 theme prompt: @prongsfoot-microfic

♤ Because I could not stop for death ♤

In an AU in which James survives the Halloween night, he and Sirius go unhinged and vengeful and hell breaks loose.

[dakogutin]

invisible

nsfw warning

Choosing a seat at the very back of the class wasn't new for James. What was a bit unusual was the absence of Sirius next to such a strategic location, perfect for scheming and surveying opportunities for mischief.

Because the thing is, Sirius is here, and mischief is happening... 

Under James' invisibility cloak...

Between James' legs.

"How rare a sight it is for you to be without Black," the DADA Professor says, startling James into the present.

Sirius, upon hearing his name, had paused his movements.

"Oh, yeah, he's… er... feeling unwell at the moment, Professor. Stayed... in bed." James hopes he hadn't sounded too breathless just now.

Their Professor considers this briefly. "Alright. But just because it's the final classes before your graduation, that doesn't mean these lessons aren't important."

He feels Sirius chuckle, and it sends shivers all over. "Yes, sir." A tongue swirls around the cockhead and James squirms on his seat. "I'll let him know." And thank Merlin he rushed to finish that sentence because from the way Sirius closed his mouth over James' cock, the bastard may have planned to disrupt James talking.

The remainder of the class passes by in a blur with James putting all his focus into controlling his breathing and staying still. All while the invisible force under his desk continues to run his sinful tongue up and down the shaft, dipping into the slit, and swirling around James' balls.

@prongsfoot-microfic

[jmagnabo92]

PM - 233 - Oct 19, 2023 - Tie

@prongsfoot-microfic

***

James has a favorite tie.

AO3

***

“Is this your favorite tie?” Sirius questions, as he helps James do up this light blue tie that brings out James’ eyes as they get ready for the event tonight.

James hums.  “Figured it was yours – you seem to love when I wear it and love to take it off me and tie it to the bed with it.”

This is true. 

He loves this tie, partially because the first time that James ever wore it, he had used it to tie James up and toy with him for ages.  It was an amazing night.

And now, James wearing it whenever they’re about to have a particularly boring time is clearly meant to spice things up. 

Sirius hums.  “I’m onto you, Potter.”

James grins.  “That’s what I’m hoping for.  Tonight, when we get back.”

Sirius finishes the tie.  “That’s a promise.”

“Good.  Then let’s go.”

“Yes, let's.”

***