#aka Sirius was starved of physical affection growing up and resultant views it as unnecessary and embarrassing

[uncertainwallflower]

LOVEY DOVEY For @jilymicrofics April 2024. Prompts: detention, ridiculous. Words: 250.

A continuation of Like a Lovesick Puppy, if you will.

Sirius had taken to gagging. Nothing serious, no actual vomit. Just a heavy reverberating hack in the back of his throat as a means of verbalising for the record his physical revulsion, his physiological repulsion, his very moral opposition to his best friend’s newfound liking to expressing his seemingly boundless adoration for Lily Goddess Divine very publicly and very affectionately whenever the mood so took him (not forgetting his compulsory thrice-hourly schedule).

No situation proved deterrent. No dirty looks discouraging. All were witness to this great love: the diners in the great hall, the contents of their cauldrons, the wine red velvet curtains over their fourposter beds, students in the corridors, peers in defence, divination, dinner, their counterparts in detention all with arms shoulder deep in slick algae, pawns in chess, even the very bugs in the dirt.

Sirius was beginning to think he’d damage his throat from how often he gagged (sometimes voluntarily, sometimes not). He had garnered a tender bloom on his ribs form how often Peter and Remus (rather unkindly) elbowed him there for rolling his eyes or sticking his fingers down his throat or mimicking Lily’s revolting sugary giggles as James—the wet sock that he was—kissed her flushed cheeks or played with her hair or gazed at her with the most ridiculous mushy eyes Sirius had ever had the displeasure of seeing.

It was disgusting, it was juvenile, it was plain rude, and entirely inconsiderate of the general public (him, Sirius, his very self).

AO3