#established prongsfoot

[siriusblack-the-third]

Sweatshirt

Sirius wants to die.

Or lick James' abs. Either one works.

James stands across the common room, a slight grin on his face and a tumbler of Firewhiskey in his hands, talking to Marlene, the other Beater on the team. Gryffindor just won the match against Slytherin; the party is in full swing, and James, as the captain of the team, came dressed to impress. Low rise black jeans that belong to Sirius hug his thick thighs like a second skin, and the diamond studs in his ears were a gift from Sirius for his seventeenth birthday. The hair is surprisingly kind of tamed today, and the kajal lines his eyes as it always does. The pièce de résistance, however, is the sweatshirt.

It is a Quidditch sweatshirt, bright crimson with glittering gold lettering on both the front and the back.

04 BLACK.

The red thing hangs a little loose on James' tall, lean frame because it belongs to Sirius and despite their similar height, Sirius is a lot bulkier than James is, courtesy of whacking at heavy iron bludgers with a metal bat for hours on end. It slides down James' shoulder to show off a protruding collarbone, and Sirius suddenly wants to bite down there, to stake his claim, to let the world know that James is his. Has been his since the day they met on the King's Cross platform, and will be his till and beyond death.

That, however, is not the most important aspect of the sweatshirt.

No, the most important aspect, is that James cropped the sweatshirt.

The red cloth ends right above James' lowest rib, hugging his waist snugly and showing off his slim hips and the abs that he usually hides under pressed shirts and comfortable knit sweaters. It also shows off James' belly button piercing.

Sirius needs to get his brain back to rights.

It was bad enough when James stumbled in through the dorm door three nights ago, giggly and flushed with excitement about his new piercing, but now he is showing it off. He is swinging his trim hips left and right, making the green jewel sparkle in the warm golden light of the common room against his tanned skin, attracting the attention of literally everyone in the Gryffindor tower. No one can take their eyes off of James despite the raging party, and Sirius is no better than the rest of them.

It does not escape his notice that almost everything James is wearing is his. His jeans, the earrings gifted by him, his sweatshirt with his name and number.

Sirius is pushing off the wall and halfway across the common room towards James before he realises what he is doing, but it is too late to change his trajectory, and he slides into the little space next to his boyfriend. When he presses a hand to James' lower back, the skin there is hot to the touch, and the tip of his thumb brushes against the soft fabric of James' sweatshirt.

His sweatshirt.

"Jamie," he says slowly, like he's trying not to spook a cowering animal, except if anyone is about to lose their mind it is Sirius himself. "Mon beau, what are you wearing?"

James ducks his head and looks up at him through long eyelashes, the wide, kajal lined hazel eyes and impossibly cute shy smile completely at odds with the rest of him.

Fuck. Sirius wants to die.

No, he thinks suddenly. What Sirius wants, is to mark James up. He wants James to wear his clothes, show off his gifts, wear piercings he gifted him. He wants to sink his teeth into James' neck, collarbones, abs, hips, thighs and he wants James to show those off too.

He wants to tell the world that James is his.

"Your sweatshirt," James says blithely, and Sirius has to grapple with his own mind for a second to remember what question he had asked. "Don't you like it?"

Is that even a question?

Sirius stares at James, eyes slowly sliding up from his red converse to the stretch of black denim over his thighs to the low waistline hugging his hips and accentuating his V to the emerald piercing in the centre of defined abs to the gold 04 BLACK to the peeking collarbone. When he locks eyes with James, both of them have flushes high on their cheeks.

"Oui," Sirius whispers hoarsely after he finds his voice. He clears his throat, and tries to remember his English. "Oui, je– yes, I like it."

.

.

.

Inspired by this

Tag list:

@padfootastic @in-flvx @narcissa-black-supermacy @xxmysticrose18 @gracelesslady23 @ghostie-06 @ad1thi

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Regulus is younger than canon, and Sirius is finally promoted to run away from home after he comes home in 1975 and finds his brother covered in bruises and discovers their mother had used the cruciatus on him. He turns up at the Potter’s with no prior warning with a six year-old Regulus in tow.

Established James/Sirius, lots of hurt/comfort and angst, and Regulus is adorable and Sirius will do literally anything for his baby brother.

((A/N: Warning for non-specific child abuse in keeping with the prompt))

"Hey. How are things at the death house?"

Sirius snorts. "This isn't the death house, this is the grim house. Death house is over in Wales, I'm afraid."

"Ah, my mistake. It's easy to get confused when your father died so recently; you understand."

Sirius should maybe not find that funny, considering how recently that death was. But his father was a distant figure at best, and at most realistic, a weird hermit that sometimes showed up during the winter hols to state that Sirius was bigger than before. He laughs, then glances over his shoulder to make sure his mum didn't hear that-- all clear. He looks back to the mirror. "It's fine. Well," he corrects a moment later, "it's weird. Mum's been acting so strange, and I swear, it's as if Regulus doesn't even exist. He's six. I remember being noticeable at six, but I never see him running around or yelling or anything I did at that age."

"Maybe he's just a quiet child. I've heard they exist," James grins.

"We're Black's. Making a scene is in our blood."

"He's got time to learn. And it's only been a day. Maybe he's intimidated by you or something. How's your mum acting weird, anyway? Is it because you didn't go to the funeral?"

"I dunno." That would be a plausible explanation, but he's not sure that's it. She sent a Howler when he didn't show, and that's usually enough to get it out of her system. Sirius chews on his lip as he tries to think of an example. "Just off. Like when you tell a joke and they do laugh but there's a pause that shouldn't be there. It's not something you can put your finger on, but you can sense it."

"I think I know what you mean, but your mother is kind of always like that to me." His head turns, listening to something Sirius can't catch, then he's waving goodbye. "Mum's calling me, got to go. Remember to ask your mum when you can come spend the night. I miss you."

"I'll ask her first thing. Love you."

"Love you too." James presses a smacking kiss to the mirror that makes Sirius laugh, and then he's gone.

Sirius heads to his room and cleans up a bit. Merlin, did his mum tell Kreacher to not clean his room while he was at Hogwarts? He didn't pay it any mind last night because he was tired, but there's a layer of dust that shouldn't be here. Come to think of it, Kreacher didn't make dinner last night, either. Has he seen Kreacher at all since he's been back? There's no way he died; Mother would've been more upset about that than her husband, and he would've heard about it.

What probably happened is that she got pissed when Sirius told her where she could shove her plans for his future and told Kreacher to not do things for him. It would explain the room, and if he's not supposed to do things for Sirius, then avoiding him is the best route. Damn it. That does sound like something she'd do. Sirius sighs and settles in for a deeper clean than he planned, because who knows how long it's been? 

His housekeeping spells are a bit shoddy but he does alright. He unpacks, switches out the photo in the picture frame by his bed. It goes from one photo of him and James to a different photo of him and James. The pictures look so similar, he notes. They took it at the same part of Hogwarts, but it hadn't been on purpose, so there's the same archway, flowers, even the same family of birds. The only thing that looks different about it is the signs of aging, losing just that more baby fat and getting taller. Their smiles are the same, though.

"Oh shit," he says after seeing the time. He almost missed dinner.

Or at least that's what he thought until he gets downstairs and doesn't see anyone. Nothing on the table, no one in the seats. "Mum? Regulus? Mum?" Nothing. "Kreacher?" Still nothing. He frowns. That's odd. "Mum?" he calls again, checking the sitting room. When he finds no one, he throws up his hands. Guess it's just him for dinner. He heads to the basement-- that's where the good stuff is. A nice cut of meat, a bottle of wine...

He opens the door, and there's the nearly imperceptible pop of a silencing charm being broken followed by screams. "What the-" Sirius races down the stairs, eyes widening in horror at what he sees. Between one breath and the next, his wand is in his hand and he stuns his mother. She collapses, the spell lifting off Regulus simultaneously. Regulus is gasping for breath, the effort interrupted too often with sobs and whines of pain. "It's okay, it's okay," Sirius promises, although he doesn't know how it's going to be okay since their mother seems to have lost her fucking mind and there's no one here for him to ask for help.

When Sirius picks him up, Regulus clings to him, small hands fisted in his robes with a strength he shouldn't have. He figures that out when he tries to put Regulus down so he can re-pack what he just unpacked and can't get him free. There's no time to find a better solution, so he shifts to holding him with one arm and has his wand in the other. It's a hack-job of packing, but his room is in his bag, and that's what's important. He goes to Regulus's room-- in a poor state of disrepair, really what happened to Kreacher?-- and does the same there. 

Regulus's tears are silent now, but there's still the occasional gasp of pain as Sirius moves. This is more than the Cruciatus Curse at work. He needs a healer, but Sirius can hardly show up at St. Mungo's like this. He's not an adult, and Regulus is so young that they'd insist on calling Walburga in which would just make matters worse. He needs- James. Yes, that's true, he needs James. James is good at healing spells and knows more of them than Sirius does, and although he never planned on taking the Potter's up on their offer, they'd long since told Sirius that he was welcome there anytime.

He isn't looking forward to going through the floo holding someone, but he doesn't have a lot of options right now. Regulus is too shaken to use the floo on his own, and he won't let go of Sirius to try. 

He grabs a handful of floo powder, steps inside... and then is ejected back into the room at Grimmauld Place. "Bugger," he mutters. Mum must've closed the floo. Why would she do that? It made no bloody sense- but then he can't expect her to make sense at all right now, since hurting Regulus is also senseless. Why would she...? Just why?

The floo isn't an option. He doesn't have money for the Knight Bus ever since Mum stopped giving him an allowance when he was thirteen. He doesn't know how to take a Muggle bus, much less if it could get him from Grimmauld Place to the Potter's house. That leaves flying, he realises with a grimace. There are brooms in the cupboard under the stairs and he grabs one. He's not fond of flying and he's never done it with a passenger before, but he has no other choice.

"We have to fly, and then we'll get you some help, okay?"

Regulus gives no response. Shit.

Sirius doesn't think about much as he flies. Mostly he's worried about Regulus falling off the broom if he suddenly decides to let go of Sirius's robes, and the rest of his thoughts are occupied with wondering if James will be happy to see him or just stressed out. 

He doesn't give any thought to how it'll look to the Potter's when they open the door and see him holding a shaky six year old, asking for help, but then he's stood there, looking at them as they take in the sight he makes, and it occurs to him that calling James on the mirror wouldn't have gone amiss.

*

After a hundred different healing and diagnostic spells-- who knew Mrs. Potter trained to be a healer after Hogwarts?-- Regulus is doing better and is asleep. Of course, he's asleep on Sirius's lap, so even though all he wants is to curl up on top of James, he can't. Mr. and Mrs. Potter are in the other dining room, discussing what to do from here. Sirius thinks his mother must be under the influence of a spell, but he knows they don't believe that. Whether she is or not, she won't be able to take care of Regulus any time soon-- even if she could, there's no way Regulus would want to go back. And Sirius doesn't want to be in the house with her either.

"What are you thinking?" James asks. He keeps his voice down to not wake up Regulus. Sirius does the same when he responds.

"That this is fucked."

"Yeah. Bit of an understatement," James says with a grimace. "That stuff I said on the mirror-"

Sirius shakes his head, cutting him off. "You couldn't know. No one could've guessed my mum would turn barmy overnight." He glances towards the door to the dining room, hoping that something will slip through from the Potter's conversation and he'll know what they're thinking.

"What do you think will happen?" James asks, following the direction of his thoughts.

"I dunno," he replies, but it's a lie. Barely a second later, he adds, "Emancipation for me. Housing Regulus with the closest relative willing to take him in. Cygnus and Druella won't do it, they said they were done being around kids after me." And they meant it. "Bellatrix would, except she doesn't want any kids. Andromeda's next in line, and she'll say yes, unless Ted has some problem with it. So I guess I find somewhere to stay, and he goes off with Andromeda."

"If you're emancipated, couldn't you take him in?"

"Legally that would work, but we've still got Hogwarts."

"Stay here."

Sirius stares at him. He wants to and hopes more than anything that it's offered to him officially, but... "Your parents-"

"Would let you. Mum and Dad adore you. This is probably what they're talking about in there. C'mon, you know they wanted more than one kid. After tonight, they might have two more, and they’ll be bloody thrilled."

*

Several years later

"We're summoned to Hogwarts," Sirius says.

"Again?"

"Yep. What do you think he did this time?"

"Nothing worth us getting dragged up there," James groans. "We got up to all sorts when we were in school, and they only called our parents in once. Regulus isn't half as bad as we were."

"Yeah, well we didn't get caught."

James blinks, thinking that over. "I forgot that bit," he says candidly, making Sirius laugh. "He's in Slytherin, shouldn't he be better at sneaking around?"

"Yeah, I asked him about that, apparently it's a myth. Snape was not the best sample to base the rest on, he says. Or he's playing the long game and lying to me, but I really think they don't care as much as we thought."

"Huh." James looks like his entire worldview has changed. Sirius remembers having the same reaction when Regulus told him. It's made Sirius wonder why Slytherin has the terrible reputation because they largely don't break the rules, but Gryffindors are viewed as better when they broke the rules, often just to see if they can get away with it.

They floo over to Hogwarts, and Professor Dumbledore is there to greet them. "I hope this didn't interrupt anything important."

"It's fine," James says.

"Do you want to tell us what this is about before we get in there?" Sirius asks, loping his arm through James's as they walk. 'Disgustingly domestic' is what Regulus calls them, and Sirius is happy to keep proving him correct.

People say that Regulus is in his 'rebellious phase'; Sirius doesn't believe it. He's not rebelling and he's not acting out, he's having fun. Experimenting, even. Loosing five dozen roosters in the Great Hall sounds hilarious, and Sirius is sorry they didn't think of it when they were in school. And the hair dye thing? Completely harmless. Giving all the house elves twelve hours off made Sirius lose his composure laughing-- something he tried not to do while in the office being told about it-- but Regulus wanted to see what would happen to the running of the castle without them. Freeing the hippogriff in Care of Magical Creatures was an accident, so it hardly counts, even though he got detention for it.

There's a wide range of possibilities, and Sirius doesn't know which kind they're expecting today.

"I'm afraid it's a rather delicate matter. Mr. Black has asked that you not be told anything without him in the room, and given the nature of this... incident, I agreed."

James and Sirius share a worried look, and they're thinking the same thing: we're too young to be raising a teenager. Wasn't it just yesterday they were walking these halls themselves? That feels like the truth, but simultaneously, it was a lifetime ago. Sirius is only ten years older than Regulus, but shortly after graduating Hogwarts, Mr. and Mrs. Potter had died, leaving them alone with the responsibility of raising him. They asked for help from Andromeda where they could, but she had her own child to raise, and their schedules were never so aligned that they could ask for her assistance at the drop of a hat.

Sirius squeezes James's hand and gets a comforting squeeze in response. Right. They can handle this, like they handled everything else. Regulus threw them curveballs sometimes, but they always worked through it in the end.

[quillkiller]

you know, sometimes i feel like prongsfoot just works better than jegulus, like hold on i’m thinking about it

well. yeah

[jollyrolls]

Afternoon reading and naps and snuggles

I had this idea in mind of James and Sirius living together in a muggle apartment and having slow, relaxing weekends after being badass aurors. And for some reason Sirius is always Padfoot in my thoughts? Like, I don't know why??! but James is always human and people know him as the guy with a large friendly dog...

[padfootastic]

Hello I have come to you with another Prongsfoot thought: James absolutely losing his mind when he comes home one day (or comes back to the dorm one day) to find Sirius wearing his jersey (and perhaps nothing else hehehe.)

oh but i’ve got just the thing for you, miss imp 😉 this is a headcanon i’ve had for the longest time, because james is absolutely the kind of person who loses his mind when his partner wears his name on them. and we already know anything sirius does is maddening for him sooooooo this is. a deadly combination.

(i’ve posted this before but it’s gotten lost in the Great Tumblr Archival System so i’m reposting it hehehehe)

“Alright, James, this can’t go on anymore,” Sirius said, voice firm, arms crossed across his chest. James blinked, eyes dragging up from where they’d been fixed on his collarbones, unusually exposed in the large jersey, to focus on furrowed brows and suspicious grey eyes.

“What can’t go on anymore?”

“This—whatever’s going on with you!” Sirius threw one arm out in emphasis. “You’ve been acting off the entire day, do you realise?”

James tilted his head in question, silently asking for him to elaborate. He knew he’s been…a little distracted, but it couldn’t have been so much as to call for this intervention, surely?

“James!” Sirius says, exasperated and really, that’s one too many times he’s called him by his full name. He can’t even remember the last time Sirius did that. “You crashed into a wall twice, tripped over Mrs. Norris’ tail and had to hide inside a suit of armor to avoid her claws—then you fell over in the damn thing and got a bump the size of an ostrich egg on your head. Five seconds ago, you almost plummeted off the staircase to your death and now you’ve been somewhere Not Here the entire time I’ve been talking. Seriously, what gives?”

Okay, maybe, put it that way, it sounded quite bad but James didn’t intend to be so scatter brained! He was having a perfectly decent time, had his head screwed on straight and then Sirius had to go and mess all that up! He was not prepared for the sight of him walking out of the shower, a cloud of steam escaping behind him. His hair was half wet and pulled back, cheeks flushed red from the heat and most importantly, he was wearing James’ Quidditch Jersey.

The one that was at least two sizes bigger than Sirius usual clothes. And the one that, when his best mate turned around, had POTTER emblazoned in huge letters across the shoulders. James had just stood there, jaw slack and fingers clenched around his tie, taking in the sight. He knew what his jersey looked like, had worn it hundreds of times, but he never knew it could be like this.

And that had just been the beginning. It seemed like with every passing hour, Sirius looked better in the damn thing than before which—shouldn’t be possible considering how extremely good he looked in the first place. Seriously, if James wasn’t as…confident as he was, he would’ve definitely gotten a complex by now. As it was, Wormtail always looked a bit peaky around Sirius. Just before their first class, Sirius’ had dried into his usual perfect curls, loose strands framing his face. By the time second rolled around, the jersey had slipped off one shoulder, exposing sharp collarbones. James didn’t even know bones could look so- so obscene but here he was, proven wrong. Right after lunch, Sirius had gotten frustrated with how much the fabric was flapping and had casually used his hair tie to knot it in the back.

This led to two things. First, his hair was now free to tumble around his face, leaving James with the strongest urge to run his hands through it, or perhaps even tick strands behind one ear. He only avoided doing so by utilising pressing his fingers into his palms to the point of pain. The second, more maddening, one was that now, it wasn’t just his unnervingly attractive shoulder but also his waist that was on tantalising display. Every time he stretched, or raised his hand in class, or ran a hand through his hair—the jersey would ride up until Sirius’ pale skin peeked through and honestly, was it really a wonder that James almost walked off the moving staircases the first time he got a glimpse of that happening?

The entire day was an exercise in making him lose his mind, he was certain. Somewhere, he had pissed off a deity and they wanted him to suffer because there was no other explanation for this. James had never been one to feel possessive. In fact, he loved sharing everything he had with the people around him. Their joy was his joy and all that. Hell, Sirius and him had been wearing each other’s clothes since first year when Sirius hadn’t had anything except uncomfortably formal robes for Christmas morning, which was an atrocity because everyone knew you wore ugly sweaters on the day so he’d given his to Sirius and DIY’d one for himself. Of course, as James started playing Quidditch and bulked up harder and faster than anyone could’ve predicted, it had decreased until the only things they really shared were robes and ties.

But seeing his name on Sirius? Plastered across his body, marking him as James’? He just knew, right there and then, that he could never go back. Now that he’d felt what it was like, that burning heat deep in his gut, the dizzying feeling of seeing Sirius look so…delicate—there was no way he couldn’t crave more of it. In his head, James had already started making plans for now he could, inconspicuously, get Sirius’ in his jersey more often. Because it absolutely has to happen again, James hasn’t had nowhere near enough of the sight.

“Jamie? James!” A hand waved in front of him, ripping him away from his pleasant daydreams of seeing Sirius in nothing but his jersey. His face flamed red, not even realising the direction his thoughts had travelled in until he blinked and saw Sirius standing in front of him, looking bemused and dressed perfectly respectably (James was trying very hard to ignore the skin visible just above his waistband.

“Er—sorry,” James said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Went away for a second there.”

“That’s exactly what I mean! You’ve been drifting away quite a bit today.”

“It’s not—Seriously, nothing’s wrong—“

“I never said it was,” Sirius said, shrewdly, making James immediately choke on his words as he tried to backtrack.

“No—That’s not…I mean—“ James’ teeth snapped shut with an incriminating ‘clack’ as Sirius steps closer to him, toed shoes touching at the tips. Close enough that they were breathing the same air, for James to see the shades of grey in Sirius’ eyes. Close enough that he could feel the movement of Sirius’ chest as he breathed deeply.

“Si?” he croaks, throat too dry all of a sudden.

“Won’t you tell me what happened, James?” Sirius’ voice was soft, pitched low and James had to strain his ears to hear him properly. He gulped unsteadily, eyes tracking the way Sirius tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip, leaving a maddening shine behind.

“Si,” he said, again, tone matching Sirius’. One of his hands had, without his permission, travelled to the waist he’d been eyeing for the better part of the day. It was featherlight, barely even a touch, really, but the way Sirius shuddered when his hand made contact with warm skin was entirely too much for James’ already fraying self control. His fingers twitched, hard, in an attempt to stop but in the next second, they’d wrapped themselves entirely around the body in his arms. James’ forearm was pressed tight against Sirius’ back, their noses were mere inches away, and Sirius’ eyes were more than halfway shut.

James took a deep breath himself and let his hand press imprints into the curve of Sirius’ waist. The only response he got was the feeling of Sirius’ forehead pressing into his shoulder, arms wrapping around him in return.

It was then that James let his own shoulders unclench, let himself relax like he hadn’t the whole day. A soft smile lifted his lips as he thought about where to go from here

“You’ll wear this for me again, won’t you, darling?” he asked, pressing the question into Sirius’ dark curls with a kiss. He didn’t get a reply but he didn’t need one. Sirius’ hitched breath was enough of an answer for him.

[coolfunstrawberry]

james and sirius kissing but the kiss keeps getting broken by james smiling or giggling (the knowledge that he's kissing SIRIUS is so)

[mycupofrum]

Surrounded by Black

Pairing: Sirius/James/Regulus

Rating: Explicit

Summary: James has a bad weakness – the Black brothers.

A/N: I had an idea of this threesome and it kept bugging me until I finally wrote it. James gets all the attention, so no incest. I just wanted them to have sex and built a loose plot around it. That's it. That's the story.

On AO3

[ellecdc]

pls be 18+ to interact with this area of my blog fics:

Can We Try? (CBBH padvix's first time after the war, discussion of past SA) Surprise! We're Making Love (Remus x fem!reader, smut, angst, hurt/comfort) 🫧 This is new (Barty x afab fem!reader fuck for the first time, they swear) a 180 near the moon (wolfstar x fem/afab!reader near the full moon)🫧 an imagine of rosekiller x reader x moonwater (not a full fic, just a little imagine) -> the fic of the above imagine: The Whole Night (rosekiller x reader x moonwater) mini-blurbs of each of the boys fucking you when the other's walk in barty mini-blurb "get out", "never" subby James mini-blurb aftercare with sirius x fem!reader Remus the Sibling Stealer (poly!moonwater x Potter!reader) sirius looks so pretty undone (fem!reader gives Sirius a blowjob)

imaginings:

inside Remus, there are two wolves (soft & rough vs mean & gentle) prongsfoot in bed headcanons unpopular opinion: deathstar has the best sexual chemistry - I'm sorry!! sirius likes to be ignored - remus likes to watch

headcanons:

moonwater in the bedroom headcanons how would the boys react if you told them you were needy? (established relationship edition, mature content) -> how the boys would react if you told them you were needy (no prior-relationship edition, mature content) how the boys would act if they were needy over you (mature content) who likes to eat afab!reader out the most? (nsfw, 18+) giving or receiving? (nsfw, 18+) highest to lowest sex drive (not explicit, mature themes) degradation vs praise? kinks? rough & fast vs. slow & passionate sexy-time ensemble? NSFW lily headcanons their favourite positions how loud they are in bed hair pulling? ur caught reading smut how would the boys react to being called a 'good boy'? how they give praise if you woke up covered in bruises and marks what they'd be like in a sex shop how the boys would respond to degradation what their fingers feel like... the boys and their breeding kinks when you're normally quiet during sex but.... how they would react if you asked them to Switch if you were teasing them? seven minutes in heaven? if you asked for a threesome would they like titles? love bites nudes? how do they handle a cunt? DVP with various ships? voyeurism & exhibitionism

🫧 = elle’s favourites

look up #horny Tuesdays with elle or #elle’s smutty chats or #elle does smut or #elle does smut? for more

Or join us over @lexxxrated for more chats and headcanons 💋

[starchaser98]

It may be a little unpopular opinion, but I personally think prongsfoot goes both ways. Sometimes I think their dynamic is established as Sirius caring about James only when things get fucked up or something. BUT in my opinion the caring goes both ways. Sirius just looking at James and he'll know what's wrong immediately. When James gets overwhelmed, Sirius just brushes James' hand with his fingers to remind him he is right there. Always there with him. Sirius staying up late at night and just talking to James because they haven't talked in a while. James is Sirius' other half. He'll ache the second James is in pain, he'll feel James' happiness in his own smile, he'll always look to find James in a crowded room.

It doesn't matter who you ship these two with. I genuinely think the bond they have is beyond any kind of romantic or even platonic relationship. They're each other's person. In a rare, fascinating way.

[runin-reads]

James/Lily vs James/Sirius: a case of accidental queer coding

Jily (James/Lily) is a pairing central to the HP universe in the sense that had they not been married, Harry Potter, the main character, would cease to exist and neither would his story as we know it. Yet we are left with only a few brief glimpses of their relationship in canon whilst other pairings are textually far more fleshed out– take Prongsfoot (James/Sirius), for example, who are frequently portrayed as The Duo, not just by those closest to them (Lupin) but by many others too such as McGonagall, Flitwick and so on. Harry himself could see how close they were during SWM in OOTP and this is someone who had a very limited time with Sirius and close to none with James. 

Queercoding is described as “the subtextual coding of a character in media as queer. Though such a character's sexual identity may not be explicitly confirmed within their respective work, a character might be coded as queer through the use of traits and stereotypes recognisable to the audience.” One character comes to mind when I think of “queercoding” and that’s Sirius Black. He’s estranged from his family, goes against the norms associated with his upbringing, there’s no mention of any ex-girlfriends and most notably he has intense love and devotion for his male best friend; James Potter.  At first glance, James had led an incredibly hetero-normative life by virtue of his wife and son, but through his relationship to Sirius there’s leeway to reach a queer reading of him as well. 

As recognised by countless characters and even Sirius himself, Prongsfoot come in a two-for-one deal:

“Do you remember who his best friend was?”  “Naturally,” said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. “Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!”  “Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course — exceptionally bright, in fact…”  “You’d have thought Black and Potter were brothers!” chimed in Professor Flitwick. “Inseparable!” 

The use of the word “brothers” in the above quote is one reason why fans don’t interpret Prongsfoot as queer-coded and/or romantic. However, it’s important to note that Sirius never referred to James as a brother, and there’s no canonical proof to suggest that Flitwick was close to James and Sirius– he was their teacher, not their friend or confidant. He isn’t calling them “brothers” either but rather he’s saying that word to express how strong their bond was. Hence why I believe an exclusively fraternal reading of their relationship doesn’t hold much weight. 

They are, however, established as each other’s closest friend and most trusted confidant. 

“Harry had the distinct impression that Sirius was the only one for whom James would have stopped showing off.” “Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was the best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry.  “I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me.”  “Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it,” Black hissed

On multiple occasions James and Sirius were described as a unit– The Unit– within their friend group. Lupin said they were “the cleverest students in the school.” They were the “ringleaders” of the Marauders; always on the same page and in agreement with each other.

“Then, with identical fluid movements, they reached into their back pockets.” 

Even during their very first encounter, they quickly and effortlessly become a team. 

“Got a problem with that?”  “No,” said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy–” “Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” interjected Sirius.  James roared with laughter.

This excerpt from DH also neatly sums up the Marauders group dynamic:

“To Sirius’s right stood Pettigrew, more than a head shorter, plump and watery-eyed, flushed with pleasure at his inclusion in this coolest of gangs, with the much-admired rebels that James and Sirius had been. On James’s left was Lupin, even then a little shabby-looking, but he had the same air of delighted surprise at finding himself liked and included” 

Lily herself acknowledged Sirius’ importance in James’ life in her letter to Sirius, where she all but says that only he could lift James’ mood whilst the Potters’ were hiding from Voldemort’s forces. 

“James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell — also, Dumbledore’s still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much.” 

On the other hand, Jily is portrayed in a less compelling way for lack of better words. I spoke about this in my other meta but to summarise it briefly: Lily is James’ wife, the mother of his son and… that’s pretty much it. In the books they’re barely spoken about as a couple, unlike Prongsfoot who are always mentioned together as if they were a package deal– which they were, as recognised by practically everyone. That’s not to say Jily has zero textual backing, though it is far and few between.

“How come she married him?” Harry asked miserably. “She hated him!”  “Nah, she didn’t,” said Sirius.  “She started going out with him in seventh year,” said Lupin.  “Once James had deflated his head a bit,” said Sirius.  “And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it,” said Lupin. 

Conclusion

What we do know about James and Lily’s relationship is limited to the following: Lily disliked James because he and Snape were enemies, James developed feelings for her first, they began dating in seventh year once James had matured, they got married when they were nineteen to twenty years old, had a child together. The end. 

On the contrary, James and Sirius are constantly implied to be each other’s closest, most loyal friend; each other’s most trusted confidant. They are equals in every conceivable way. Both were popular, from wealthy backgrounds  and intelligent. Throughout the entire series Sirius’ only priority was Harry, James’ son. He went through unfathomable lengths to protect Harry: he was the first to escape Azkaban, he snuck into Hogwarts with all the dementors around and lived off rats during the GOF so he could be close to Harry, the last piece of James he had left. 

There’s also evidence to suggest Sirius was a narrative parallel to Snape. There are two adults in Harry’s life who sought to protect him due to their respective relationships with one of his parents. Snape was a double agent for Dumbeldore out of love for Lily; Sirius escaped Azkaban to protect Harry out of love for him, an extension of his love for James. 

All these factors are  why I believe that by not fleshing out Lily as a character and Jily as a couple, JKR accidentally queer-coded Prongsfoot. 

[siriusblack-the-third]

Pretty Eyes

Sirius absolutely loathes James' eyes.

Look, don't get him wrong: James has pretty eyes. Like, really fucking pretty eyes. They're all chocolate brown and smiling and doe-like— the perfect picture of innocence.

The perfect picture of innocence, that is, up until he pulls shit like this.

Sirius pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out a sigh. "James Euphemia Potter."

His boyfriend just blinks his large brown eyes— great Mother Magic help Sirius, why does he look so fucking cute— and makes a small, inquisitive sound in the back of his throat. "Yes, sitara?"

That little shit.

James knows exactly what he does to Sirius when he uses Marathi, Hindi or Urdu terms of endearment. Sirius finds it very unfair that his (annoyingly adorable) boyfriend can reduce him to a sticky puddle of happy goo with just a few words.

Then again, he knows just how hot James thinks he is when he speaks French, so he supposes it's a win-win.

"Get off my bed, Potter."

James scrunches up his nose, then deliberately snuggles deeper into Sirius' covers. "I was promised cuddles," he grumbles, eyes narrowed, "and I will get them, or so help me, Sirius Orion— I will make you sleep on the common room couch."

Sirius grins and raises an eyebrow, sticking his thumbs into his belt loops. "But then who'd give you cuddles, mon soleil?"

James glares at him, but he looks so sleepy and warm and comfortable in Sirius' bed that it just looks like a pouting kitten. And that's without the pleased flush that spreads across his cheekbones at the French term of endearment. He is just... so fucking adorable. Sirius cannot handle it. "Sirius, get on the bed. Cuddles, now."

Sirius sighs again. He has an Astronomy assignment to complete that he has to turn in less than twelve hours from now. But then again, he muses, he did promise James cuddles.

"Fine," he murmurs in fond exasperation, and dumps his schoolbag next to the bed before kicking off his shoes and stripping off his outer robes. He collapses onto the bed, loosens his tie, unbuttons the cuffs of his sleeves, and opens his arms. James makes a happy little noise and turns around, and Sirius wraps his arms around his waist from behind to pull him back against his chest. He buries his nose in the crazy mass of black curls, breathing in the faint mogra smell of James' shampoo.

"You are too fucking cute for your own damn good, Potter," he mutters, but clutches James closer, letting out a silent, satisfied sigh.

James snickers, and it's the last thing either of them remember before falling asleep.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Sirius was 16 when Regulus was born, and ran away when Regulus was only a couple of months old. He and James are happily married and have a son together, Harry (who was born 1980, like canon).

One day Sirius is visited by a Wizard Solicitor with a Will telling him that he’s inherited half of the Black fortune, and is now also has custody of his younger brother, who is a about 8 at this point.

Sirius assumed that his brother had been the perfect child for his parents, he expects a blood-purist spoiled brat — instead he’s got a child who’s abuse makes his own (which was already severe) seem like nothing.

Just Sirius feeling guilt for abandoning Regulus, feeling responsible for his abuse, and he and James trying to give him the best life possible — and Harry being adorable, and Regulus and him becoming the best brothers, which makes Sirius feel complicated feelings.

((A/N: Mentions of child abuse))

Anger and discomfort. That's what Sirius felt when his father pushed a week-old baby into his arms and said, "Hold him until your mother gets back."

The new baby, his new brother, sixteen years younger than him, Regulus, whimpers pathetically. He tries to rearrange his arms so the baby won't start screaming, but does he know anything about babies? He's never really been around one before. This is maybe the second time he's held one, and he would've been happier if it had stayed at one.

"Why can't you bloody hold him?" Sirius asks as Orion backs away. "He's your stupid son."

"As are you," Orion replies dryly, a familiar angry glint in his eye. "So do as I say and hold your sodding brother while I get a drink." He leaves, long strides taking him from the room far faster than Sirius can chase after him. He doesn't like the fact that he has a sibling now or that he's supposed to wait here until Walburga gets in-- whenever that's supposed to be-- but he doesn't want to bash the baby's head into the door, so he has to stop following their father and wait in the room as requested.

He sighs, gives the door an impotent kick, then gingerly makes his way to a chair. It's easier to hold a baby while sitting, right? He's heard that somewhere. Maybe, if he's lucky, Regulus will stay asleep. Or is he awake and just not crying? It's hard to tell which when his face is so scrunched up. Sirius isn't sure. As long as he's quiet though, he doesn't care.

He knows what a new sibling means. His parents didn't say it in as many words, but they didn't need to; he knows that he's a disappointment to them. He's said a hundred times (to James), that if they could replace him, they would. And now they have.

His parents don't like each other. They don't have sex for fun. They purposefully conceived Regulus so that, once Sirius is gone, they'll have a new heir. Sirius knows that he won't be here much longer. It's a toss up whether he runs or they throw him out. He thinks he's going to run; he'll be able to pack all of his things that way.

He glances down at the (thankfully) still quiet baby in his arms and hates him, just a little bit. Right now, he's fine. He's a baby. He doesn't have personality, he's trying to figure out going to sleep and eating when he's hungry. But when he grows up? Sirius turned out alright, in spite of their parents. Regulus probably won't turn out the same. Andromeda noted to him once, in the corner of one of their family gatherings, "It's fifty-fifty if one of us isn't utter shite. It's like, you and I turned out good, so Bellatrix and Narcissa have to be piss." Sirius laughed, knowing the truth in her words; Uncle Alphard, present but apart from the others like they were, was a clear sign. They could turn out good, but it wasn't a guarantee.

If Sirius is fine, then what does that mean for the future of this newborn baby? He'll grow up under Walburga and Orion's watchful eyes and the 'benefit' of hindsight that raising Sirius will have given them.

Sirius will grow to hate him. That stir of anger, to that future, to their parents, is still there. "Sorry, mate," he whispers. Angry or not, he pities him.

*

There's a knock on the door, and James answers. "Hullo. Erm, can I help you?"

"I'm a solicitor, my name is Joe Byrne." He holds a business card out. It's a deep green, almost black but its colour is visible from the sunlight shining on the doorstep. "I'm here to speak to Sirius Potter."

James takes the card and glances down at it. The sigil stamped to the background and the skate of magic underlining his information like an errant drop of water mean he's old money-- which means he's likely connected to the Black family. "I don't know what business you could have with him."

"I presume you're his husband, James Potter?"

"That's correct."

"Mr. Potter, are you aware that his mother recently passed?"

"Yes-" it was in The Prophet "-but she disowned him. I know children are usually in the will even if they're estranged, but this isn't a usual situation."

Mr. Byrne doesn't appear bothered by this. "The will has been read. What Walburga Black may or may not have done to disown your husband in a social manner wasn't reflected legally, so I need to speak with him."

James knows he's being overprotective by thinking anyone connected with the Black's-- even professionally-- is bad for Sirius. So he swallows it down, tucks the card in his pocket, and says, "Okay. Please, come in. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Please. Thank you."

James waves his wand to get things started in the kitchen and leads Mr. Byrne to an armchair. They're both quiet as he sits. Another wave of his wand brings the teapot out, the tray and cups trailing behind it. He can't remember if it's polite to pour for him or not; it's been so long since he tried to be proper, and that was occasionally, not all the time. Bloody hell, he shouldn't care about this, and he doesn't, really, but he's nervous. Sirius's parents are an old scar, but they are a scar. What's the point in putting pressure on that scar again? For a single galleon that his mother left, just to spite him? "Go ahead," he says, motioning to the tea service, "and I'll go get Sirius."

Mr. Byrne thanks him, so even if it was a mistake, it's a small one.

James isn't looking forward to this. To any part of this. He didn't even want to let the solicitor in, but now he has to tell Sirius that he's here, and he likes that less. He heads to the backyard, where they were soaking in the sun for a few hours while Harry's at the Longbottom's.

Sirius glances over when he walks out, then frowns. "You alright?"

"There's a solicitor here for you. From Walburga."

"I don't imagine we'd have anything to discuss."

"I said the same to him, but he claims you're in the will." James holds out a hand to him and tries to smile. "Best to get it over with."

Sirius sighs but agrees, taking his hand and joining him inside.

Mr. Byrne introduces himself to Sirius before opening his briefcase and removing a sizeable folder. "I apologize for coming to your home to discuss this, but my letters didn't receive any response and certain matters need to be taken care of quickly."

"We received quite a bit of post after her death," James says by way of apology. None of the letters were welcome; they'd burned the lot of it without sifting through to check senders.

"I understand," he replies, accepting. Then he looks to Sirius. "In summary, you are now the Head of the Black family. There's quite a bit of details to get through in relation to that, but we can schedule an appointment for that if you prefer. The most urgent matter is that of your younger brother, one Regulus Black. Since your mother's death, he's been staying with a member of S.U.B.S., but the hope is to transfer him into your custody as quickly as possible. There are a few forms I need your signature on, and then you'll be his legal guardians." Mr. Byrne is very efficient about the whole matter. As he's speaking, he retrieves a quill and inkwell from his briefcase. By the time he's done, the inkwell is unstoppered, and the corresponding forms are facing Sirius and James.

Two minutes ago, they had a three year old and struggled with that. Now they're being told they have to raise another kid, one who's older and they've never met.

Sod everything.

*

Sirius and James have a certain idea what Regulus will be like. Sirius was raised in that house, he knows what life was like before he went to Hogwarts, and Regulus is eight. He was snooty and cold and unused to anything like James and Sirius as they are now; Regulus will be the same, possibly worse.

The first glimpse they get of Regulus makes them rethink that assumption.

The first conversation they try to have with him crushes that assumption beneath a harsh hammer and grinds it up afterwards. At first, Regulus is too loud, too aggressive. Then, he's quiet, almost not daring to breathe, and he shrinks away like he expects pain. When none comes, he flees to the loo with a murmured excuse.

"That's not normal," Sirius whispers to James. They need to talk about it, but he doesn't want Regulus to overhear. And, given what just happened, he doesn't want to go too far from him.

"Definitely not," James whispers back. "D'you think they hurt him?"

"That's what it looked like, but it doesn't make any sense. They wanted to make him the perfect son to replace me." He shakes his head. "This doesn't follow."

"Maybe he's skittish from losing his parents and living with strangers," James says, but he doesn't sound like he believes it.

Sirius doesn't believe it either, but he says, "Yeah. Maybe."

*

"Are you going to lock me in the basement?" Regulus asks one day over lunch.

Sirius wishes Harry weren't here for this, and James wishes that there was a warning before someone asked something so horrible like that.

"There's no basement," Harry informs him. "Uncle Peter's house has a basement, but he says I can't go in." He's too young to understand the horrible implications in Regulus’s question. To him, it's a question on the same level as 'can I go in Dad's potion lab' or 'can we have dinner early today'.

James tries to smile. "Right. Like Harry said, no basement. I don't know why we'd do something like that to you anyways."

"The full moon is tomorrow night."

His stomach sinks, because that didn't sound like a different topic, and he doesn't want to ask, but he has to. Sirius braces himself and asks, "Why is that important?"

"They put me in the basement for my transformations."

He blinks. "Transformations?"

"When I become a wolf." Regulus said it as if this was information they already knew.

Sirius and James both force themselves not to react; there's no point in making him think it's a bad reaction. "Right. You don't have to do that anymore, we have something else worked out." They'll have to figure it out tonight. It'll be easy, since they can both transform and keep him company, but finding a suitable location will be a bit of a challenge-- and finding someone to mind Harry while they were both gone, helping Regulus, won't be easy because of the short notice. 

*

"I should've taken Regulus with me when I ran away from my parents," Sirius says, staring up at the ceiling and hating himself for something eight years past. From the corner of his eye, he can see James pause.

"You're not blaming yourself, are you?"

He says nothing.

James sighs, a quiet, sad thing, and pads over to the bed. He sits and places a hand on Sirius's shoulder. "We were sixteen. We couldn't have raised a kid."

"We would've figured it out," Sirius says stubbornly. He's convinced that it's true. They had Harry a little earlier than was wise, but they had each other, so they were able to get through it. It would've been the same with Regulus; they would've been scared and stressed with juggling everything, but they would've managed it.

James lays down. He throws one leg over Sirius's and curves his arm to smush between them so he can hold his hand. He should probably look up at the ceiling with him, but instead he stares at Sirius. His jaw is set, eyes tight, and he's glaring at the red paint like it's done him wrong. "I know you feel bad for him. I do too, but there's nothing we could have done-"

"We could've helped," Sirius cuts in, voice hard.

Mm. He isn't going to make this easy, is he? James keeps himself from sighing again, knowing it'll only make Sirius more defensive. "Okay. Humour me. You're sixteen, and you show up at my house with a baby in your arms. My parents let you and Regulus both live there. We-"

"I know that it wouldn't have been easy with Hogwarts, but-"

James is the one to cut him off this time. "I wasn't talking about Hogwarts, I was talking about Walburga and Orion. If you'd brought him with you, that would be kidnapping. Do you really think they'd let that slide? The law would've been on their side, and they would've wanted him back."

"They treated him like rubbish!" Sirius says, turning his head to glare at James instead of the ceiling. "He's a werewolf; they wouldn't have raised a finger."

"He wasn't a werewolf back then."

A retort is on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitates when that penetrates his fog of guilt and self-recrimination. James is right; Regulus wasn't a werewolf. He doesn't know when he was bitten, but it had to be after he left. "I still think I should've been able to do something," he eventually says, feeling helpless and hating it.

"You didn't know. And it doesn't seem like anyone else knows; they kept it locked down. All we can do is focus on how much better parents we're going to be to him," James says with a grin.

Sirius snickers. "Yeah. Doesn't sound like it'll be hard."

"We'll blow them out of the water."

*

Harry thinks it's fun to have Regulus around. Where James and Sirius are sometimes too busy to play with him exactly the way he wants, Regulus is always free-- and, importantly, always willing. Regulus and Harry both are enjoying the novelty of living with someone close to them in age. Hell, Regulus is enjoying playing. So much of it, he seems to be experiencing for the first time (like he's never had a playmate), but sometimes he does act the five years older than Harry that he is, knowing what Harry wants before he says a word.

It's pretty damn cute no matter which way he's acting. He talks more now, which is a marked improvement on when he first moved in. He doesn't fully trust Sirius and James yet, but they've got plenty of time to build off that, and he does trust them a little. He doesn't expect for them to berate him over nothing; he doesn't expect for them to lock him away on full moons or when he gets 'too annoying'. James gets frustrated with the slow pace sometimes, hating that Sirius has to remind him that baby steps are the only way they'll make progress. Raising Harry is, by comparison, easy. He's known them his whole life, never had reason to doubt that they'll be there for him or keep him safe. Dealing with raising both of them at the same time, with these differing viewpoints, isn't easy, but they're surviving.

Regulus and Harry wore themselves out playing. Sirius, as Padfoot, joined the fun, and he's feeling lethargic as they head inside. When he curls up to take a nap, Harry joins him automatically, pillowing his head on thick fur. When Regulus sees the way Sirius doesn't shake him off, he joins them, arm over Harry and head resting on Padfoot's gently moving chest.

James comes home, takes a photograph before any of them can wake, then tiptoes around the house, wanting them to have as much peace as they can. It's not an easy family, not one he ever thought they'd have, but it's good. Regulus fits in, taking on the role of Harry's brother, with Sirius more like a father.

[dieatthealtar-deactivated]

details:

band au - moonrosestarkiller is a band, established wolfstar, established rosekiller, regulus is lonely (lmao), james is a terrible person (i love him i swear i do)

author au (MAJOR mcd warning) - everyone is famous, regulus writes books about a universe he sees in his dreams that his friends (the skittles) also have dreams about, and all the others realize they have the dreams too, but they're all killed off by a serial killer called Voldemort, regulus is the only survivor

actor au - tbh idek yet

coffeeshop au - lily and regulus work at a coffee shop that pandora keeps dragging her brother and his boyfriend too (pandalily centric, but there's also a lot of rosestarkiller)

i'm too tired to tag mutuals sorry

[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.

[padfootastic]

Day 2 - Posture

written for @prongsfoot-microfic

“Keep slouching like that, and you’ll end up stuck in that position before you hit thirty.” Professor McGonagall’s stern voice was accompanied by an intensely disapproving glare at Sirius’ sitting—no, slouching posture. He was currently half laid out on a couch, legs thrown over one arm of it and neck hanging off the other side. It was a very comfortable position and even McGonagall’s threats weren’t enough to make him budge.

“S’not like I can be any more bent, let’s be honest,” he muttered under his breath, smirking when Remus and James let out matching snorts of laughter, unable to contain their reactions.

“Mr. Black!” McGonagall gasped, scandalised. He leaned back further to send her a quick wink before slowly moving into a better position.

“Apologies, Professor, I didn’t mean to say that,” he said, utterly insincerely. He wasn’t fooling anyone, of course, but it was the principle of the matter.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” she replied, though a tiny little glint in her eye told Sirius exactly how much she enjoyed their little back-and-forths. She could pretend to be stern and stuffy all she wanted, but it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

She looked at all three of them for a moment, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths, before letting out an almost-audible sigh. Almost. “Well, I knew it would be futile but I had to try. At least sitting up straight would make it easier for Mr. Potter to carry out his heart’s desire, so there’s that. Do remember there’s young children around, boys.” And with that parting shot, she left, leaving them sitting there in varying stages of disbelief (Sirius), embarrassment (James) and hysterical laughter (Remus, the fucker).

“Did she just—?” James managed to get out before burying his face in his hands. Sirius could see the tips of his extremely red ears peeking out the sides.

“I think it was a fever dream,” Sirius replied mechanically, still trying to make sense of what just happened. How quickly the tables turned on them.

“Oh no, not at all,” Remus finally deigned to join, ceasing his cackles just enough to get his two cents in. “She really did just imply that James wanted to devour you, and that it would be much more effective to do it sitting up.”

“Remus—“ Sirius growled, lifting out of his seat to seal his friend’s mouth shut; he was having entirely too much fun.

“Of course, I agree with her, seeing as there’s no—how did you put it, James?—‘tantalising display of skin torturing you’ now.”

“Oh my god,” James removed his hands from his face, making it clear the blush had travelled violently down his face, over his neck. Sirius could see it had even spread across his chest from the little V of his button-up. He gulped, quickly turning away lest it trigger another kind of heat in him. “Remus, you utter piece of goblin-shite.”

“Thanks ever so much, honey.” Remus blew a kiss, once at each of them, and left without a look back, fully aware of the shit he’d just stirred.

“So…” James was staring at the wall in front of him with a laser focus, resolutely not looking at Sirius.

“So?”

“Wanna go see if you really can’t get any more bent?”

x

Neither of them were seen in the castle for the rest of the day. Remus got at least twenty three galleons and fifteen sickles from the student body, and an additional ten from McGonagall. They made good partners, if he did say so himself.

[rosemelodyshah]

What is your favorite part of Prongsfoot as a couple?

Hi! thanks for the ask For one, it is how easy it is to write them together. We don't have to go OOC in any amount bc Canon alr establishes how close they were-- its very easy to go from joines-at-the-hip besties to-joined-at-the-hips and dating.

It's also easy to read. Every fic and author are different but the two of them are always the same no matter in which situation even with diff writing styles and AU and all. Like enemies to lovers or besties to lovers both just hit the same part of my heart perfectly.

And well how can you not love a couple like them? like even when it's not portrayed as a perfect couple its still somehow the perfect couple. They just fit like puzzle peices and is legit the only reason I rejoined the fandom so it's very very special to me.