#howl at my heart (jamesxremus)

[chasingxprongs]

@remusetlupus continued from HERE

“You’re kinda bossy for a bloke who just used the word fancy in relation to me.” James mumbled, shooting him a cheeky wink only to really fucking regret it when it hurt his nose. “Why do you fancy me when i’m bleeding and not when I’m at my best? You’ve got some weird fucking kinks Moons.”

He was drunk. Really fucking drunk, which was actually really lucky considering he couldn’t feel the pain from his nose or wherever else those blokes had managed to sucker punch. Honestly, who the fuck did they think they were? Bad mouthing werewolves all casual like where anyone could hear? James truly believed that they wanted a broken nose, there was no other explanation for that kind of blatant behaviour. They were masochists, who wanted him to beat the shit out of them.

Only, James was a pretty good fighter. He could throw a punch, he was strong and tall and he played sports. But he was also drunk, and when drunk was not the best time to take on a couple of blokes at once and remain an uninjured victor. It hadn’t been a raging success, but James had heard the crack of a broken nose beneath his knuckles, so he was pretty content with his achievements.

“What’re we talking about tomorrow?” James muttered, frowning as he attempted a pout in Moony’s direction. “Cause I’m gonna be hungover as fuck tomorrow you see, I have plans to feel sorry for myself for around eight hours. I just dunno if you’re gonna be able to fit a lecture into my busy schedule.”

He paused, holding back a grin before he continued.

“I’m also not fucking sorry….” he shrugged, “So there’s that.”

[chasingxprongs]

@extremelyxshabby continued from HERE

He shouldn’t have asked. He hadn’t intended to. He’d meant to just come out with it, to tell Moony about the letter he’d opened the day before. Only there hadn’t been a right time, not really. James had just gotten back from a holiday to New York with his parents and seeing Remus again after two weeks – talking about that stupid fucking badge hadn’t been a priority.

He’d thought about never telling him. He’d considered – when the metal had first fell into his hand – just not accepting it. He didn’t care that bloody much, he’d never expected or wanted to be headboy. He wasn’t exactly what anyone would call headboy material. Only then his mum had seen it, had dropped his holiday laundry on the floor where she’d been carrying it to the kitchen and started to cry of all bloody things.

She’d made a special tea, and his dad had even given him a glass of scotch like he was somehow a man now and he’d just – aside from Quidditch Captain and good exam scores, the only things they’d ever gotten from school were letters about his behaviour. He’d never made prefect and as much as they joked about it, he was their only son and James realised it was an experience they’d missed out on.

He couldn’t turn it down. And maybe in some selfish way, it wasn’t just for them. Maybe it was kind of nice to have them really, truly proud of him instead of smiling fondly and shaking their heads at his latest antics.

So he hadn’t turned it down. But he hadn’t told Remus about it either.

“It doesn’t really matter who got it does it?” he asked dumbly, considering the amount Moony was going on about it signified it mattered a whole fucking lot. “I mean – it’s just some dumb metal badge right? It’s not like it even means anything – fuck if anything it’s a really boring job, takes up most of your fucking nights and who wants to spend all their time with swotty prefects?”

He paused, realising belatedly, Remus was a fucking prefect and insulting all prefects everywhere – no matter how annoying they were – wasn’t really going to make this go the way he wanted it to. Which was for it to not go anywhere at all really.

“Evans is head girl?” he ran a hand through his hair, wishing more than anything he’d never opened that fucking letter. The whole fucking world thought he had a thing for Evans, to the point sometimes he was pretty sure Remus thought so too. Being head boy and girl together wasn’t going to help. “That’s uh – well we knew that was gonna happen right? I uh – I don’t reckon it’s Snivellus though, even Slughorn wouldn’t nominate him for it – who’d inflict that on the school?”

He paused, flinching as a donkey trotted past and already regretting agreeing to Blackpool as he chose instead to glance over to where Peter was hiding in the shade, Sirius flirting with a group of girls next to him and had an immediate brain wave. 

“Maybe it’s Pads? It’s basically a popularity contest right? And it’d keep the purebloods happy...having a Black as headboy....” 

[chasingxprongs]

this is ooc: tell me honestly why you dont let remus have sex

I feel like this is a joke, but I’m genuinely going to answer the real reasoning for this. There are multiple reasons for this, and yes it is varied depending on how Remus is being played but James’ feelings for Remus don’t really change regardless. 

A running joke

Part of it is a joke. At least, it’s his actual feelings disguised as a joke. Does he think he can actually stop Remus from having sex forever? No, realistically he knows that’s not going to happen. But it’s easier to disguise how much it worries him by making it into a big, joking performance. By being the big, bad James who everyone is trying to thwart for Remus to get laid. 

Protectiveness 

The majority of his refusal is based on how protective he feels about Remus. Does a lot of it stem from Remus being a Werewolf? Yes, of course it does. Because it’s a big part of his life that most people don’t understand. Because at all costs, they protect Remus. Because he wants to be accepted and loved and James doesn’t want anyone taking advantage of that. Because James can’t help but think of him when he thinks of Remus with someone else, as the boy who cried to him in second year. Or of all those times in the hospital wing, or Remus coming to him at night, or hiding his upset in sarcasm and sassy comments. James see’s through it all, he knows when Remus is sad, he knows when he’s sick, he knows when he needs to be left alone and when he just thinks he does. He knows Remus, and he doesn’t trust anyone else to be as committed to that as he is. 

Jealousy

This one James probably doesn’t even acknowledge himself, nor is he aware of it. But regardless of ships, James doesn’t like the idea of someone else giving Remus all the things James does. Of Remus going to someone else when he’s upset, or if he needs something. He’s likely not even aware of these feelings himself, but they exist. He’s a very jealous boy, is James Potter.

[chasingxprongs]

“I want you.” fite me

Three words || Accepting

It was too late.

He knew it, he believed it, he’d pretended to accept it, but that didn’t mean he was ready to let go of the hope. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be ready. Remus was here saying words James hadn’t expected to hear from him again. He was here speaking with a surety James had believed he was never going to get. He was here.

He couldn’t speak, feet frozen to the spot as he stared at Remus in the open doorway. Whatever happened, wherever he moved was a decision he was making. He knew what the right one was, he knew which way he was supposed to go, he knew it was too late for them. He knew it wasn’t fair for anyone involved to step forward and kiss Remus the way he wanted to. He knew it wasn’t the way his life was supposed to go.

Lily was pregnant. A one night, broken hearted mistake and now he had a kid on the way. A kid with a prophecy hanging over their heads and James didn’t know what their future was together, but he had a feeling – something he’d always half known, that he wasn’t meant to survive the war. They were named, about to be actively hunted and the things James wanted didn’t count anymore. The person James wanted was no longer a possibility, but that didn’t quell the desperate longing.

He said nothing as he stepped forward, as he wrapped one strong arm around Remus’ waist and kissed him desperately. He said nothing as he tugged him closer, as he felt the heat of Moony’s body against his own and closed his eyes to just fucking feel him for a second. He said nothing as he pulled back, as his eyes roamed over the familiar face he’d missed more than he could put into words, as he committed him to memory.

He said nothing until he did. Until he had to.

“It’s too late.” he murmured against his lips, pressing one last kiss against them as he stepped back. “It’s too late for us.”

[chasingxprongs]

“He exists now only in my memory.”

A Mystery Meme || Always Accepting

James froze, his hand on the door handle as he heard the slightly muffled words through the heavy wood. The voice sounded different. Older. Tired. In a way that was more than just needing a nap. In a way that spoke of a lifetime of tiredness and James didn’t want to imagine what that meant. He didn’t want to think about those tired words being about him. That the tired words and the tired tone belonged to the person he remembered, to the person he hadn’t had chance to even miss yet.

He’d gotten up in excitement as he’d heard the footsteps. A heavier tread than was familiar, but one he recognised even now. He’d ignored the difference in their circumstances. Ignored that, usually, he was the one rushing to the hospital wing and not the one waiting impatiently inside. He’d been excited. His heart pounding with it, which was apparently fucking weird in itself but James didn’t want to get into that. He didn’t want to think about the fact 24 hours previous his heart hadn’t been beating at all.

He’d been excited. To see his friend. To ask the questions he wanted answering. To see something familiar in a world he didn’t recognise.

He’d been excited.

He wasn’t excited anymore. The words cut through him like ice. A harsh burn that took his breath away for a moment. He’d expected Dumbledore to tell Remus without James having to listen to it. He’d expected a joyous reunion that didn’t even feel like a reunion to James. He’d expected to feel as though he still had somewhere to belong, someone to belong to. He hadn’t expected the harsh reality to hit so fast and so brutally.

That life had moved on. That people had moved on. That he was nothing but a memory in a world that didn’t have a place for him anymore. A world that didn’t need him. People, who didn’t need him. People who had learned how to survive without him.

He stepped back from the door, suddenly feeling the fatigue of limbs that hadn’t been used in years as he walked backwards towards the bed. He watched, as he perched on the edge of it, watched with wide, almost nervous eyes as the door to the private room in the hospital wing began to open.

[chasingxprongs]

things you said after you kissed me (remus, museofrequirement)

Send me a ship for a mini fic || Accepting 

@museofrequirement

Remus is about as far away from James as he can get. Red rimmed eyes giving away the fact he’s been crying. Usually, James would be a bit freaked out by that. He’s twelve and almost positive boys aren’t supposed to cry. It’s gay. Or something like that anyway. Girly. Not what they’re supposed to do but it definitely doesn’t count if you were missing your mum a bit and cried in the shower. Because how did you even know you were crying in the shower? It could just be the water. That was the rule. Shower crying, not real crying.

This? This isn’t shower crying. But this isn’t Remus missing his mum either. This is Remus finally admitting it, what James knew, what James practically forced out of him. Maybe he’d been a bit blunt, maybe he should’ve let Remus tell him himself but it just didn’t make any sense to James why he was keeping it so secret in the first place. James didn’t know much about Werewolves, but he imagined the whole thing was probably pretty cool.

He’d imagined wrong.

At least if the way Remus hunched in on himself, as far away from James as he could possibly get, was any indication of his wrongness. As though somehow, James was going to catch it just by breathing in the same air. As though that’s what James was going to think now he knew. That he was going to look at him differently, treat him differently, somehow be scared of the boy who broke his nose one time because he fell asleep reading and dropped a hardback on his face. James wasn’t sure how anyone could be afraid of Remus.

With narrowed eyes, he shuffles over on the bed, taking a breath as he reassures himself this isn’t at all gay. This is proving a point, to his best friend who is upset. This is simply to make sure Remus knows that James is right and he is wrong and that the only person afraid of Remus in this room—is Remus.

Without much more thought he’s leaning in, pressing his lips firmly against the other boys cheek. Loud and exaggerated, a grin and wink following almost immediately after.

“Oh look, I didn’t catch it!”

If anyone asks, James will maintain for now and for forever that this wasn’t his idea. It was probably Pete’s. Pete who just happened not to be here right now. Or maybe Sirius and yeah—okay, so he wasn’t here either but he knows this is something they talked about late one night. When talking about things like this is acceptable, in the dark, lying in their own beds and discussing what exactly it was girls wanted from a kiss. It had made sense, at the time, when they couldn’t see one another, to agree that the best thing to do, was to test out one another’s techniques.

They’re thirteen and impressing girls is so terribly important. That Ravenclaw boy kissed Susan from Hufflepuff and everyone had been calling him slobber jaw ever since. You couldn’t mess it up, it’d ruin you forever. It’s just being a good mate, making sure none of them were subjected to that kind of disgrace, even if Sirius pretended he obviously never would be.

Sirius was wrong, which was why it was James sitting here, on the edge of Remus’ bed, talking him through his date with that Hufflepuff James had forgotten the name of. Sirius was off somewhere in a sulk and it had absolutely nothing to do with James’ insistence that he had to be the one to do it as it had been his idea. That wasn’t what happened, and Sirius was talking shit.

Remus’ eyes are kind of intense close up like this. Almost as though they’re seeing right through to James’ fucking soul or something. It’s weird and he’s never thought about Remus’ eyes like that before, they’re kinda nice. In the way sometimes it’s nice to look at the sky or something on a clear day—not that he does stuff like that, because it’s a bit gay. But if he did—that’s what it’d be like.

He steels himself as one hand cups the other boy’s cheek, thumb stroking softly and it’s not because he wants to touch Remus. It’s because he’s trying to play the bloody girl and as James has kissed a grand total of five girls so far, he’s definitely the authority on the subject. Except, as he leans in, as their lips meet and James’ breath catches in his throat—he quickly realises that kissing Remus is nothing like kissing a girl and that James can’t remember that he was supposed to be acting in the first place.

It’s overwhelming and weird. Makes his stomach feel all strange, kind of like maybe he’s going to throw up but also that he might also be about to have to spend some time in the shower—to do things thirteen year olds do in the shower, not crying, he’s not twelve anymore, shower time is different now—he’s probably sick. He’s probably going to pass that on to Remus and maybe ruin his date—but that’d be alright, cause James will just stay in with him and Remus can read whilst James throws chocolate frogs in his general direction when he wants attention.

He realises quickly Remus is looking at him, looking at him with those eyes, nervous and expecting and James pulls back as though he’s been burned, running a nervous hand through his hair.

“So uh—yeah—I’d give that a solid eight.”

James doesn’t know how long he’s been sat here. He doesn’t know how long Remus has been pretending to be asleep, but he knows it’s been a while. He knows his legs are numb from the hospital wing chairs—chairs that aren’t meant to house people for as long as James has been sitting here. Chairs that are for brief visits, visits that involve chocolate, cards and jokes about the latest injuries. Visits that fucking end, visits that don’t involve Poppy sticking her head round and shooting you sympathetic glances, bypassing her own rules about visiting hours because she knows what happened.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting here, but he does know Remus has been pretending to be asleep for at least an hour of that. Because James knows—James knows when Remus is sleeping. James has spent enough time over the years watching Remus sleep. He knows when he’s hurting, he knows when he’s finally settled, he knows when he’s plagued with nightmares or guilt and he knows when Remus doesn’t want to open his eyes because he’s terrified of what he might have done.

This is one of those times.

This is probably the worst of those times and part of James doesn’t want Remus to open his eyes either. He doesn’t want to explain why Sirius isn’t there too. He doesn’t want to tell him about the screaming match he had what felt like days ago with their best mate. He doesn’t want to tell Remus about Pete taking sides so easily and how James is worried about his lack of autonomy. That he’d followed the leader, who he saw as the most powerful. That he took James’ side and James is worried nobody is comforting Sirius.

He doesn’t want to tell Remus what Sirius did. He doesn’t want to see the look of hurt in his eyes or the guilt that would follow shortly afterwards. He doesn’t want to tell Remus that his condition had been used as a form of revenge, as a prank, when they’d never tried to use it for their own gains before. He doesn’t want to hurt him and the ferocity with which he feels that terrifies him more than the possibility of Remus deciding to be awake sometime soon.

He’s terrified of how angry he is on Remus’ behalf. On the urge to fix it for him. To protect him. To climb into the bed and hold him until it all goes away. He doesn’t know what to do with that, doesn’t know how to voice it or what the fuck it means but it’s too much for his fifteen-year-old brain to process.

He sighs, biting his lip as he takes Remus’ hand in his, lifting it, hesitating for only a second before he presses his lips against the back of it.

“It’s alright mate—it’s gonna be alright…I’ll sort it.”

It’s a stupid game. A stupid fucking game and James doesn’t know why he agreed to play. He doesn’t know why Remus agreed to play either. He doesn’t understand why Remus was able to kiss Sirius without hesitation, with laughter and eye rolling at the cheers from the rest of the circle. He doesn’t know why that fucking bottle keeps landing on Remus anyway, or why Pete keeps filling Moony’s fucking glass up as though the bloke needs anymore to drink.

He doesn’t know when at sixteen years old, this stupid muggle game involving a bottle became acceptable to play. Or why—the only people James had gotten to kiss so far were Marlene and some random fourth year girl who bit his lip hard enough to bruise and then ran away sobbing that she’d made him bleed. James was having the worst time playing this game. But apparently, Remus ‘everyone kiss me’ Lupin was having the time of his fucking life.

He’s obviously wasted. Obviously he can’t see what he’s doing, or how much it’s pissing James off. Or maybe he can. Maybe he does know that it’d piss James off. Maybe he knows that James hates every second. Maybe he knows and just doesn’t much care anymore. James won’t kiss him in public right? James kisses him like he did in the hospital wing. Alone and in the dark. James kisses him and doesn’t explain why. James kisses him and refuses to look into the all-knowing eyes of Remus. Because James Potter is under no illusions that Remus always knows what’s going on.

He’s busy stewing in his anger, too busy to notice at first when the bottle, spun by Remus lands on him. He doesn’t notice the cheers or the prompting from his mates. He doesn’t notice any of that, but he does notice the expectant eyes on him. The challenge. Issued by a drunk Remus who James is under no illusions did it on fucking purpose. Clever bastard that he is. James has no doubts in his mind that Remus knows how to rig this game and rig it he has.

He’s going to do it.

He rises to his knees, eyes fixed on those of Remus as he shuffles over to him. Heart beating rapidly against his chest, and he tries for a second to just focus on Remus. To remember when they practised and James felt like he was looking at a clear sky, poised for flying. Looking at endless possibilities and ultimate freedom. He tries, he leans in and he’s sure he’s about to really fucking do it until someone claps him on the back, urging him on in the game and all of a sudden, all James can focus on is the crowd around him. All he can think about is kissing Remus in this room full of people and he pulls back with apologetic and regretful eyes.

He ignores the jeers around him, ignores as someone else reaches for the bottle and instead, murmurs, low and under his breath to the one person it really fucking matters to that he didn’t do it.

“I’m sorry.”  

Remus is moving on. James can tell. He’ll still kiss James. Still touch him. He’ll still open up his bed and his arms but James is rapidly starting to understand that maybe Remus wants more than that. They’re seventeen and about to leave school. It makes sense that he would. Fuck, James wants more than that. He just doesn’t know how to make it happen, he doesn’t know how to take that step. Doesn’t even know what that fucking step is and he wishes sometimes Remus wasn’t his best mate and didn’t insist that James had to find these conclusions on his own.

He wishes Remus didn’t know him so well.

He wishes he didn’t know Remus so well sometimes. He wishes he didn’t know that Remus was probably enjoying the attentions from the blonde Ravenclaw in the corner of the Great Hall. He wishes that he could just finish his toast and ignore it. He wishes that he didn’t know that Remus wants that. Deep down where he maybe won’t admit it. He wants to have someone who isn’t ashamed of him. In the way Remus has spent a lifetime ashamed of himself. He also knows Remus won’t ask for it. He won’t ask because he’ll never think he deserves it.

It’s probably not real. It’s probably got absolutely nothing to do with anything why Remus is standing so close to the Ravenclaw boy. It probably means nothing that he’s rolling his eyes, laughing and that the Ravenclaw is feigning offence. It doesn’t matter that this boy knows that Remus is funny. People are allowed to know that, allowed to appreciate it. Remus deserves to be appreciated. It’s probably nothing. Probably doesn’t mean a fucking thing and yet maybe it means everything. Because as far as everyone else knows. It could mean something. They could be thinking about how much they must fancy one another. Could be expecting them to go out on a date, could be thinking maybe they’ll be moving in with one another when they leave school in a couple of weeks. Maybe they’re even thinking how sad it must be, to be in love and going off to war. Maybe they’re thinking that this is some tragic fucking love story and—

He’s up before he’s even finished the thought, up and striding towards Remus. He can’t see anything but the other boy as he shoves the Ravenclaw aside, can’t hear anything but his own heartbeat as he crowds him against the wall and kisses him soundly. Desperately. The way he’s wanted to kiss him for a long time, finally in the fucking light. Finally without pretence. To make it real. Make it something they do and that James isn’t ashamed of.

He doesn’t know how long he kisses him for, only that he’s suddenly acutely aware of the silence in the hall. Only that as he turns his head slightly, he can see every single eye on them and for a second he thinks he might panic. Except, he can still taste Remus on his lips, he can still feel his breath, hot against his own and instead of panicking, he simply shrugs.

“…fuck it.”

He kisses him again then. Right there in the Great Hall and he doesn’t say anything after. He doesn’t need to. He figures the kiss says everything he needs to.

[chasingxprongs]

BEING SLIGHTLY PERPLEXED BY EXTREME DARK is a perfectly NORMAL thing to be perplexed by! At least it's better than peeing yourself whenever a horse walks by!

“That happened one fucking time and I’d drank a lot of fucking water Moony!” He frowns. “...also aren’t you supposed to be the smart one? Perplexed doesn’t mean the same thing as terrified...read a book.” 

[chasingxprongs]

You subsist on a diet of mostly bread, you lead a fairly unhealthy lifestyle, and yet you're the most active, fit person I know, and frankly it is upsetting. I eat so much protein I could /be/ a cow, and yet I can barely sit a broom while you, a man made up of largely one food group, whips about like you have normal blood sugar levels. It's insulting.

Roast my Muse || Accepting 

“What I’m getting from this, is that I can eat what I want and remain a fine male specimen and you, are full of jealousy.” He grins. “Mate...I reckon you just roasted yourself.” 

[chasingxprongs]

@extremelyxshabby is about to get grounded 

James had known for a while there’d been some top level missions going on. He’d known they had a spy amongst the Werewolf ranks. But he hadn’t suspected, hadn’t even dared to imagine that it was anyone he knew. Hadn’t thought for one second, despite Moony’s shady behaviour, that it could be him. Because it wasn’t possible, wasn’t possible that he’d keep something like that from them. Wasn’t possible that he’d put himself in that position after everything he’d been through, after everything they’d been through with him.

Walking into a meeting containing their elusive operative, had been a betrayal of the worst kind.

A betrayal of their friendship. A betrayal of their ideals, their morals. A betrayal of their past and the sacrifices made. A betrayal of what James saw as a fucking unspoken pact not to go down certain roads.

For Sirius not to take the mark and spy. Not to re-join his family. For Pete not to fight in missions he just wasn’t good enough for. To know his own strengths, despite wanting to fit in and be brave. For James not to take Gryffindor self-sacrificing to the next level and for Remus—for Remus not to fucking—not to become nothing more than a convenient in with the Werewolves.

He looked awful. Looked truly fucking horrific and James wanted to smack him and pull him into a hug at the same time. Wanted to lecture him whilst force feeding him potions and soup. Wanted to lock him up, whilst tucking him into bed and telling him it was going to be alright. He wanted a lot of fucking things.

But he didn’t do any of them.

He didn’t say a word for a long time. Stood silently at the table as Moody, Dumbledore and Remus poured over maps. He could feel the other man’s eyes on him occasionally, but James didn’t bite. Couldn’t trust himself to speak right now, without committing murder and he was pretty sure that wouldn’t go down well.

“You send ‘em in that way, and they’re not gonna last ten seconds before they’re dust.” He added eventually, stepping towards the table and grabbing a Quill. “Lupin needs to lead the wolves here. Far enough away to let our guys get in and out.”

He circled the spot on the map, before adding a couple of scribbled notes and a few X’s to indicate where their backup should be—trying his best to pretend this was just another mission. Any mission. Trying to look at it with an unbiased eye as he did everything he could to avoid looking at his best mate. To avoid thinking about it. Despite the way his hand trembled with suppressed anger.

He waited until the plan was pretty much complete before he spoke again. Waited for the three men to start exchanging pleasantries instead before he turned, eyes blazing to Dumbledore.

“Get out.” He held up a hand, silencing Dumbledore before he even attempted platitudes or reassurances. In no mood to hear the kind of lecture he suspected Moony had been hearing for years. “Don’t say a fucking word old man. I’ll make sure your mission goes off without a hitch. Now get the fuck out.”

He waited, waited for Dumbledore to leave, before his hand gripped Remus’ arm hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to leave a bruise, but James was too furious to notice. Or care.

“Not you. You’re staying.” He turned, eyes ablaze as soon as the door closed behind the other men, as Moody’s voice ranting about insubordination faded to nothing more than background noise down the hall. “So Greyback? Nice to know what you’ve been doing all this time; you should’ve told me—I would’ve made sure to send him a little welcome to the family present. It’s only polite.”

He released his arm, his own fingers clenching into a fist at his side as he struggled to get his breathing under control. He was rapidly losing the battle on his temper, and wasn’t even sure why the fuck he was still trying to keep it in check.

“How long has he had you whoring yourself out to Greyback?” He asked, not a shred of remorse in his voice as he swiped the maps and plans off the table, one piece of parchment crunched up in his hand. “How long have I been planning fucking missions involving you and him? The whole time? You decided to bare your throat and let me plan around it? I know you’re not fucking stupid—so why? What the fuck did he say to you?”

[chasingxprongs]

“I want us to be together, but I don’t know if we can.”

Crumbling Relationship Starters || Accepting

“Yeah…I know.” James could only nod, taking the opportunity to duck his head for a second—avoid the eyes of someone he wasn’t sure he’d ever avoided eye contact with in his life.

The Common Room was empty, late enough that the only sound previously in the room had been the dull crackling of the ever present fire. He’d told Moony that morning, told him that he wanted more, told him that he didn’t care anymore about what people thought. Told him that everything he’d thought he’d wanted had been wrong, that it didn’t matter about marriage, or gender or the possibility of kids. That it didn’t matter about what people expected because he wasn’t sure he was ever going to feel like this again.

He’d told him without expectations. At least that’s what he’d said. What he was going to continue to pretend. Told him just to tell him and nothing else. Told him to get it out and put it on the table but that he knew—knew that he’d been dancing around the issue for months and that he couldn’t and wouldn’t expect the other boy to make some kind of a decision right then.

Now it had been an entire day, a day of acting normal. A day of pretending James hadn’t sprung this on him that morning. A day of being the best mates and brothers they were. A day of James being unable to look Sirius in the eyes because somehow, speaking it out loud, how he felt. Felt something like betrayal. Of the worst kind. It had been the longest day, but now it was time—time to hear the other side of the conversation James had started that morning.

“I waited too long, I uh—I know that.” He shrugged, lifting his head once more, a small grin of good natured defeat he didn’t really feel on his face. “It’s uh—It’s okay y’know? I know.”

He paused, biting his lip for a second as he reached for Moony’s hand, his own fingers squeezing gently. As he’d done many times before. Reassuring the other boy when he felt as though his heart was about to fucking shatter. Or something equally as dramatic he’d never say out loud. Because saying shit like that out loud, was a bit too gay even for James’ new epiphany. One step at a fucking time.

“You love him.” He stated simply. “I already knew that…knew it for a while. Just uh…sometimes it’s easier to ignore things, at least for a while. But uh—you don’t look at me the way you look at him, but I just—I wanted you to know, that I got my shit together and that—that you wouldn’t have been any kinda sacrifice.”

[chasingxprongs]

Age: 17 days older than you. Opinion on Toast: I’ll understand when you need time alone with it. What makes you the ideal spouse for James Potter?: I mean, I don’t have a dowry, I’m not better than you at anything, and I come with a lot of baggage, but if you get rid of all of that I’ve got a pretty decent ass and a passably alright smile, and a good sense of humor. Why do you wish to marry James Potter?: Aside from the fact that he’s the most AMAZINGLY gorgeous Gryffindor and the most SPECTACULAR Quidditch player of all time…I’d probably say it’s because he’s got great shoulders. How do you feel about sharing his affections with Jenny the sponge?: Jenny is welcome at our hearth and home (but mostly shower). Also with Sirius Black?: As long as I have a few minutes of silence a day. Also with Remus Lupin?: Always happy to share space with James Potter’s most handsome and intelligent friend. Also with Peter Pettigrew?: Peter is the only other one with sense so please have him there. How do you feel about Horses?: They’re very similar to deer. If you met James and a Horse at the same time, who would you like more?: (looks at cue cards) James of course. Any final persuasive arguments?: Lord Howler and his stalwart manservants.

Dear Applicant, 

The Department would like to take this opportunity to acknowledge receipt of your Application and thank you for your time. 

We regret to inform you, that your Application has been deemed invalid, for reasons we will explain below; 

- You described James Potters shoulders as ‘Great’ We as a Department feel this word is not an adequate description and would suggest, should you want to be invited to interview with the ‘head of Boners’, you take the opportunity to re-phrase this. 

- You described Horses as very similar to Deer. Please note, that any spouse of James Potter is required to value honesty and intelligence. This comment would imply you are perhaps misinformed about the nature of Horses and the majestic nature of Deer. Should you refute this statement, the Department would have no choice but to simply brand you a liar. 

- Your reference to cue cards, implies that your answer is not your own. The Department is unable to encourage the suggestion that you have been influenced in some way by one of our members. We will assume clerical error until corrected. 

- Please provide more information on Lord Howler’s Manservants. The head of Boners is particularly interested in their names. 

We look forward to receiving your corrected application. 

Yours Sincerely, 

The Department of James Potter’s Dick 

[chasingxprongs]

“ nothing in my world will ever seem so beautiful again. ”

Poetry Starters || Accepting 

“Yeah…I know it’s disappointing.” He shrugged, flopping horizontally along the end of Moony’s bed. “But, I reckon it’s gotta be some kinda mistake y’know? We can’t have fucked up that badly.”

He sighed, staring up at the ceiling, a deep frown on his face as he attempted to rationalise the dire situation in his mind. As he’d been trying to do for the last hour. Yet, he still had nothing. Absolutely no way to justify what had happened over dinner, and deeply fucking confused about what he was supposed to do now. He’d come to Moony for advice, he’d expected some wise words of wisdom that maybe came with the Moon or some shit—cause Remus was usually bloody good at them.

But not this time. This time it had gone beyond that. Even for Remus. This time, they were without moon wisdom. Without anything except their lack of judgement staring them right in the face. James would’ve preferred Sirius had stabbed him with his butter knife at dinner instead. He reckoned maybe that would have been less painful.

“…we’re just gonna have to face it mate.” He mumbled, heel thumping on the edge of the bed. “Pads reckons Ringo is the best Beatle and there’s nothing we can bloody do about it…it’s probably his parents fault. Everything else is.”

[chasingxprongs]

“Can you help me with my DADA homework?” c:

“Please sign this parchment stating that you agree that the responsibility of our friendship ending lies entirely with you.” 

[chasingxprongs]

☆ for a secret / forbidden kiss ( do this in stead )

Kissy time || Accepting

He hadn’t exactly planned it, hadn’t had a definitive plan in mind as he’d forced Moony away from their table in the library to the rows of shelves towards the back. It’s not as though he’d deliberately tried to get him to the part of the library nobody went to or anything—and he definitely didn’t have any other plan than looking for a book. Anyone who thought or said otherwise were liars.

“See, I’m pretty sure and without you giving me a lecture on the fucking library system again that the Charms book is supposed to be right here—“

He cut himself off mid speech, turning suddenly and backing the other boy up against the opposite bookshelf, bracketing him in with his arms. His lips were on him before he’d even had chance to think any more about it, heart beating rapidly in his chest as his mouth met that of his mate who he’d told himself was off limits. He heard, rather than felt a book falling to the floor, couldn’t feel anything except the lips on his and the smaller body pressed firmly between his own and the shelves.

The library was boring, books were boring and he was just helping Moony out with some entertainment was what he tried to tell himself. Repeating the mantra in his head as his hands untucked a familiar school shirt from the waistband.

It wasn’t gay, it was sharing body heat in this fucking cold library. Was the tale he told as his hands slid along a toned abdomen, palms eagerly pressing against the warmth of his skin. It was bloody important to stave off a cold. He had Quidditch to think about.

A boner didn’t mean anything. One time he’d gotten a boner over a tree and that didn’t make him tree-sexual. Was the excuse he repeated like a prayer as his hips pressed into the other boys, the hands under the shirt grasping a slim waist firmly to tug Remus closer. Flush against his own body.

He pulled back finally, with a nip to a full bottom lip and a cheeky wink. Cause he didn’t have an excuse prepared yet for why he wanted the rest of Moony’s clothes off. Why he wanted to bend him over the nearest desk and do things he was pretty sure couldn’t be compared to getting a boner over a tree.

So he didn’t try to think of one, just ran a hand through messy hair and pointed above Moony’s head.

“Told you it was in the wrong place—I’m gonna complain, maybe if I do it loud enough, I’ll get an extension on this fucking essay.”

[chasingxprongs]

@extremelyxshabby grabbed the wrong boobs

He was minding his own business. Had taken himself to the library in an attempt to finish the History of Magic essay that was already a week late and Moony refused to do for him. Only, despite his best intentions, all he’d managed so far was to doodle snitches on his parchment and constantly check the time for when Lily was going to be done with class. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, really—he’d had the best intentions. But as soon as he heard the familiar voices from behind a shelf—he couldn’t help but listen in.  

“I think there’s something about Remus that’s kind of fit—you know, the type of fit you don’t expect until they’re in your bed and a complete animal…” Marlene of course. James had enjoyed that part, had filed it away to tell Moony later. 

He had in fact, by that point, settled in for a good eavesdropping session, with the aim of telling his mates and Lily later. 

“Remember when Lily snogged Remus in fourth year?” Mary’s voice had been loud enough to carry, tinged with the fondness of girls reminiscing. “Apparently he went straight in for the boob grab, so I wouldn’t be surprised.” 

James had waited then, holding his breath, hoping Marlene was going to respond with a laugh—with an assurance that it wasn’t true. That Mary had gotten it wrong and was she talking about someone else instead?

“Never would’ve guessed she’d be with Potter now…next time he makes me do a 7am practice, I’m pointing out that he got Lupin’s sloppy seconds.” 

It had been said with a fondness. With all the tact of Marlene and yet James had heard enough. Couldn’t bear to listen to anymore, his ego bruised and heart fucking shattered he packed up his things and headed back to the tower. He didn’t want to see anyone—didn’t want to see Moony in particular, or his girlfriend. None of them and if Pete and Sirius were even gonna attempt to justify any of it, then he didn’t want to fucking see them either. 

His fury was only intensifying as he walked, so much so that he turned to punch the wall near the portrait, ignoring the chiding calls of the pictures and the crack of his knuckles as he shook out his hand. It hadn’t helped, had done nothing but make him pissed that now he’d fucked up his hand and well maybe Lily would need Remus to help her out with her tits again whilst he was out of action—cause apparently that was Moony’s fucking speciality. 

By the time he was climbing through the portrait hole, he was trembling with rage, these feelings being directed towards Moony an entirely new and terrifying thing. He couldn’t even look at the other boy playing chess with Sirius, didn’t want to face him and yet his mouth was opening before he could stop himself.

“So fourth year?” He questioned loudly, uncaring who was listening and far too angry to temper his tone. “You get a good feel did you Lupin? Shame you didn’t tell me about it sooner, could’ve given me some advice, told me what she likes and all that.”

[chasingxprongs]

♤: For a written confession.

Get a letter from my muse || Accepting

Moony, 

I reckon I’ve probably had a bit too much to drink. No I definitely have, I definitely have had more to drink than a bloke with a baby who stares at the same bloody walls every fucking day is supposed to have. It’s not really a good decision when your poor wife is stuck here with you cause there’s nowhere else to go. Well no, there’s places to go, we just can’t go there. 

I got distracted, I’m writing cause I was looking at Harry today and I was thinking about all the stuff he’s gonna do when he’s older. All the teenage stuff and then I thought maybe I’m not gonna see that. Then I thought well, if I don’t see that maybe that’s a good thing cause he’ll live and I won’t and I’m distracted again and I can’t remember my point. Anyway, I had thoughts and now I’m sharing my thoughts cause I reckon it’s time to confess some things to my pal Moony. 

So buckle up, you’re in for a wild ride;

- One time in fourth year, I ate your chocolate when I was pissed and forgot to replace it. This wouldn’t be relevant but you definitely blamed Pete and he definitely thought he’d done it for a week straight. I reckon I might’ve even put the wrapper on his bed. But that was drunk me, you can’t be mad at drunk me for inciting chocolate gate. 

- I can maybe admit, at this time in my life. Having had some thinking time and nothing to do except play records. That Paul might’ve had a tiny bit more talent than John (but he doesn’t have near the amount of magnetism Moony, I’m gonna go to my grave on this one). Probably literally...ha. 

- That time when you got that set of first editions from the school board when you got your OWL’s? The ones that were a thank you for being such a good student and doing the school proud and shit? That was me. I know you already know that now...I reckon you never mentioned it so I didn’t feel stupid or something. I just wanted you to feel accepted by the school, appreciated and stuff. 

- Sometimes, I pretend I understand what you’re saying cause you’re using fancy words and I wanna look smarter...

- Right now, I miss full moons. I miss running around with you, doing shit we shouldn’t and being irresponsible and I know that’s not really a confession but it kinda is. Cause you dread it, cause you hate it, hate what it’s done to your life. It’s selfish to miss it cause I’m cooped up here, but I do. 

But my main confession and one it’d be great if you didn’t acknowledge when I’m not drunk enough that when I first tried to write this I wrote Mum instead of Moony.

My main confession is that I’m scared this is a goodbye letter. 

I’m fucking terrified of dying. I know I’m not supposed to be, but I am Moony. And I don’t want your last memory of me to be that I was terrified but I don’t wanna leave you with lies either. I don’t wanna tell Lil, cause I know that if we have a chance to get out, it’s gotta be her and Harry. That’s how I want it. She won’t agree if she thinks I’m scared. But I am and I’m scared this is gonna be the last time I write to you. 

So yeah, those are the things you should know, cause everything else I don’t really need to tell you. 

Yours, 

Prongs