#oh look this one is over 1k toooooo

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

What about 'What time is it?' with James falling asleep on Lily? 😇😙

from this prompt list

She’s awful.

Actually, really, truly awful because he has a date tomorrow—and so does she for that matter—and he expressed wanting to get to bed at a decent time hours ago. But now that he’s gone and fallen asleep right here on the couch next to her, his head on her shoulder, she can’t find the will to wake him and send him upstairs to his own room.

There are a few reasons, of course, because Lily Evans is a rational girl. The first reason is that he smells like a dream and she knows it has to be some sort of Sleekeazy product that he’d probably flush with embarrassment over if she asked him about it while he was awake. The second reason is that he’s been exhausted and it feels a bit cruel to deprive him of what seems to be a rare moment of rest.

The third reason is that she’s a little bit in love with him.

That’s neither here nor there, though, because he’s made it incredibly evident that his feelings for her are incredibly platonic. And the thing is, she likes Robbie Carrillo. He’s intelligent and kind, and he gave her his notes from Ancient Runes when she missed class while meeting with McGonagall last week. But he’s not James and she’s not in love with him.

She looks down at James now, studying the way his dark lashes fan out against his cheeks, his specs askew and nearly falling off his nose. Lily shifts slightly, and his head nestles deeper into the crook of her neck, sending a small half-shiver down her spine. She bites her lip, suppressing a smile, and carefully reaches up to remove his glasses, so they don’t fall off and wake him. 

“Well, isn’t this cosy.”

Lily’s eyes narrow as she glares at the smirking boy who’s come to a stop in front of the couch, his arms crossed. “Bugger off, Black.”

Sirius’s grin only widens. “Should I bring down his blankie?”

James stirs on her shoulder. “Wha—hm?”

Lily’s gaze flicks sharply from Sirius to James, whose sleep-muddled face is now slowly coming into focus. His lips move in a series of incoherent murmurs, his eyes blinking open and closed as he tries to make sense of his surroundings.

He turns his head, squinting at Lily. “Can’t…”

She picks his specs up from the table and gently places them back on his face. He blinks slowly several times, then smiles at her in appreciation. “Thanks.”

“Fucking hell,” Sirius groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m going back to bed. Just came down to make sure you were still alive. You coming, Prongs?”

James stretches, his body protesting as he slowly sits up, the jumper Lily tossed over him falling away to reveal a dishevelled state. He rubs at his eyes, still half-asleep but clearly more aware now.

“Bed?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah,” Sirius drawls, “it’s that thing upstairs that you evidently want to—”

“Padfoot.”

Sirius’s eyes narrow at James’s interruption, but after a rapid, silent exchange, Sirius sighs long-sufferingly and retreats up the stairs without another word.

“What time is it?” James asks, after they’ve both watched Sirius disappear.

Lily glances down at her watch. “Late. Really late.”

James closes his eyes again, tilting his head back against the cushions, his face turned up toward the dim ceiling of the common room. He stretches out his legs, trying to ease the tension from his muscles, and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Did we finish the patrol schedule?” he asks, his voice a groggy murmur.

“We can finish tomorrow.”

He groans and sits back up, the movement causing his glasses to slide further down his nose. He stares at the empty space where Sirius had been, his shoulders slumping. “I swear it never ends.”

“Sirius is right,” Lily says. “You should go to bed.”

His head falls back onto her shoulder, his warm breath tickling her neck. “I was quite comfortable before, you know.”

Her stomach flops over itself at the closeness, but she keeps her voice even and light. “Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm,” he hums into her neck, his lips brushing softly against her skin, and she does not shiver at the sensation, thank you very much. “Think you’ve got real…career potential, Evans.”

“As a pillow?” She snorts softly, her eyes darting to the side as she tries to ignore the way her cheeks are heating up. “What the hell am I doing all this Arithmancy revising for then?”

He laughs against her, the sound vibrating pleasantly through her shoulder. He shifts, the cool metal of his glasses momentarily pressing against her skin. “Dunno. Should drop out. Devote yourself to this. Being soft and smelling good and—” He stops talking and shifts away from her neck, his face turning slightly pink. “Sorry. That was…weird. I’m knackered and—”

“It’s fine,” she says quickly, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. She keeps her eyes trained on her lap, her fingers nervously fiddling with the edge of her skirt.

“I probably should go to bed. I—” He sits up slowly, running a hand through his hair, which now falls messily across his forehead. He avoids her gaze, focusing instead on the floor.  “You’ve got a date tomorrow, yeah? With, er…Carrillo, was it?”

She nods. “Yeah. And you’re taking…Diana, right?”

“Yep.”

“Cool.”

“Super cool.” There’s a brief pause, during which he fidgets awkwardly. “So…anyway. Good night, Evans. We’ll finish the schedule tomorrow night. Thanks again for letting me sleep with you. On you! On you. Your shoulder. I—” He sputters to a stop, running a hand over his face, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson. “Merlin. I have to go to bed. Immediately.” 

He stands up from the couch, his movements slightly unsteady as he gathers his belongings. As he turns back toward the couch, he leans over and gently presses a kiss to Lily’s cheek. Her entire body goes rigid at the unexpected touch, and he freezes, his lips lingering for a heartbeat longer before he jerks back, his face now mirroring her shock.

Lily swallows, her pulse racing. “Er—”

He stumbles backward, taking three large steps away from the couch, his eyes wide with embarrassment.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, running a hand through his disheveled hair.“Sorry, I don’t—my brain is rebelling against me. I’m so…I swear I don’t know what’s going on.”

Lily laughs awkwardly, her cheeks still warm. “It’s fine. Just…get some sleep, Potter.”

“Right. Right.” He nods vigorously, still looking flustered. “Er, enjoy your...date.”

She won't. She absolutely, positively won't.

(But she'll enjoy the one next month and all the rest after that.)