You Must Know That I’ll Follow You

~700 words :: Harry Potter :: Sirius/James :: 5/31/06
Sirius doesn’t see why what James does with Lily should have anything to do with what he does with James. (Note: This was remixed for Remix…Redux V.)


James hauls himself out of the bath, half-hard and dripping wet and looking decidedly annoyed to see Sirius standing there.

“You know you’re not supposed to be in here.”

Sirius shrugs, grinning. The prefects’ bathroom is empty but for the two of them. “Never stopped me before.”

James’s fingers close over his wand and before Sirius can reach out and touch him, he’s dry. “It’s different now.”

“What’re you on about?” Sirius pushes him up against the wall, hand going straight for James’s cock.

“Are you daft?” James mutters. His fringe falls in his eyes and he looks away. “I have Lily now.”

Sirius blinks. He doesn’t see what that has to do with anything. James is getting hard in his hand. In his hand. Not Lily’s.

“You need a girlfriend, Pads.”

Sirius says he doesn’t like girls, James knows that. Cunt, he doesn’t add. Instead he says, “Anyway, Lily isn’t here,” and leans in to kiss James.

“Fuck off,” James says. He doesn’t sound angry. He just pushes Sirius away and runs his fingers through his hair, looking around for his specs. He looks more annoyed than anything, like he thinks Sirius is being thick.

“I bloody well won’t.” Prising James’s wand from his fingers, Sirius tosses it aside, shoves James back against the wall. He uses his whole body this time. Seven years. Eight? Fuck if he’s going to stand aside now just because Lily finally gave James the time of day.

“Sirius.” James’s voice is low, dangerous. It’s all Sirius can do not to drop to his knees.

“Don’t,” he grits out, “just fucking don’t.”

James opens his mouth again and Sirius kisses him, desperate to shut him up, trying not to think of Lily, of whether she goes down for James. It makes him rough, teeth scraping over James’s lower lip as he grinds against James’ thigh.

There’s blood in his mouth, probably James’s, but it tastes no different than his own. He doesn’t remember pinning James’s arms above his head and only notices when his own arms start to ache. He’s thrusting, rubbing, this close to coming in his trousers. This close and fuck, he can’t. Not without. Not even if he wants to, and he does. It’s just out of reach, but he won’t beg. James doesn’t fucking deserve his begging anymore, the cunt.

His teeth close on James’s jaw, his neck, his shoulder. Marking him so she can see, marking him though he knows she won’t. Every bite says, I was here. I had him first.

Every second James stands there unresponsive says it doesn’t matter.

“Come for me.” James’s voice is barely above a whisper. If Sirius hadn’t been waiting for – dreading – those words, he might not have heard.

“Fuck you,” he groans, because that’s it. That’s all it takes and he’s coming, nails digging into James’s wrists as a warm spot spreads over the front of his trousers. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you…”

He slides down. He can’t not. James’s fingers are in his hair, pushing his fringe off his sweaty forehead. Sirius spits on his fingers and James widens his stance. Does she do this? Does she know what you like? With his fingers in James’s arse and James’s cock in his mouth, Sirius is almost happy.

He’s good at this, knows what James likes. He can make James come in moments or draw it out forever. A few minutes ago he would have said he wanted to make this last. Now he just wants to get it over with. Tongue here, pressing. Fingers crooking. Cupping his balls and then a tug, a squeeze.

James comes down Sirius’s throat, same as always, but he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t say his name. Still breathless, he pushes Sirius away, looks at him for the first time. “Are you happy?”

The back of Sirius’s throat feels clogged with spunk. He needs a drink of water. He needs something to make the twisted-up feeling in his gut go away. Pushing himself to his feet, he pulls his wand out of his pocket and mutters Scourgify at his trousers. He wants to punch James, wants to see him bleed and hear him scream.

Instead he just snorts, mouth pulled tight as he turns to leave. “What do you think?”