Happy Memories // James Potter

ix: 10.30.1977

"It fell out of your shirt on the quidditch pitch, I saw it then."

"I'm sorry, I know you meant for me to wear it on new years-."

"Fuck, honey, seeing that around your neck last night was more than I could have wished for when I bought you that necklace." He says, nearly growling out the words.

"Will you stop talking to me for another week if I ask you to come hold me?" I find myself asking, the words seeming to escape without my permission. James takes a deep breath, resetting the board and making his way over to me, maneuvering me on the couch so he can comfortably lay behind me, my back pressed into his chest.

"I'm not going to stop talking to you unless you want me to, Cupcake. You've got me hooked." He says, his words sinking into my heart just as his breath tickles the side of my face. It smells of fresh peppermint, leading me to think he'd brushed his teeth before coming down here this morning.

I move my hips slightly to get comfortable, resting my head on his arm and attempting to find the perfect cuddle-position. My bottom scrapes against something rough as I maneuver myself and James lets out a small hiss.

"Who the hell keeps their wallet in their pajama pants, James?" I question without thought, moving even further so that the thing isn't poking into me anymore, until it is.

Then I realize it.

"Fuck, Cupcake, you gotta stop movin'. You're killin' me." He groans, tucking his nose into my neck. "Fuck."

"James, are you hard right now?"

"With your pretty little ass grinding against me? Yeah, Cupcake, I'm rock hard." He says, letting out a bitter laugh as I completely still. His hand finds my hip with a firm touch, moving me slightly so the flesh of my thigh is the only part touching him.

His hand doesn't leave my hip as the poking-thing slowly begins to stop poking me. Finally, I turn myself slightly to find that his eyes are scrunched closed.

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking of Padfoot in a tutu. Or my aunt Genevieve on a pony. Anything but having you this fucking close to me, Cupcake."

"'m sorry, James. 'I Didn't mean to-."

"Hush, angel, you didn't do anything. You're just so fucking gorgeous, it's not your fault. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I can leave if you want me to. Just say the-."

"James." I cut him off, pressing my lips to his cheek in a surprising– both to me and to him –show of affection. "Shut up."

"Yes ma'am."

~☾~

JAMES POTTER'S PERSPECTIVE:

"Seriously, Pads? I haven't gotten detention once this year and you just have to go and get us caught? I was supposed to eat dinner with 'Phelia tonight." I complain, scrubbing at one of the many trophies we've been tasked to clean. Peter sits beside me, wiping the suds off of each golden piece as I hand them to him.

"She'll be fine, James, she's got her friends."

"No, she doesn't! Seraphina is with Slughorn for a personal study session and Davie has been hanging out with that girlfriend of his... what's her name? Parks? It doesn't matter, she's alone for dinner! She probably thinks I stood her up!"

"Relax, Prongs! Remus has the map, he'll tell her where we are. It's not a big deal. Plus, I'm sure you've got plenty of wanking material already, no need to eat meals with her." Sirius says nonchalantly, making my blood boil.