5
||James||
TW: underage drinking
«Wormtail, where did you put my hairbrush?» James shouted, banging on the door behind him so the boy could hear. His hands were in his hair, the damp curls twisting around his fingers as he tried to style them.
«I didn't see it, James!» was Peter's sleepy reply, startled awake. He had curled up on the unmade bed about half an hour earlier, claiming he needed a moment of peace before the impending evening, and had fallen asleep instead.
Getting angry at James would have done no good, so he simply compressed his lips in a tired groan, pressing his red cheek into the pillow.
However, his peace was short-lived. «No, I lent it to you this morning!» Potter retorted.
With another kick of his feet, he swung the door open, allowing the dampness from the shower to quickly dissipate.
Peter snorted. «Yeah, but then I gave it to Sirius.»
Sirius, standing to Peter's right, was a slender figure. His shirt, the buttons of which he was now busy undoing, clung to his thin torso, hugging his narrow hips. James could see him shaking his head in the reflection of the mirror.
«I'm pretty sure I put it on the bathroom shelf.» Was the curt reply. He bit the inside of his cheek, struggling with a particularly stubborn button.
James snorted, feeling the surface of the sink with his hands. It was quite difficult to recognize the grainy shapes blurred in his eyes when he wasn't wearing his glasses. He shook his head. «It's not here.»
Remus, who had been sprawled on the bed till that moment, stood up, placing the Ancient Runes tome on the bedside table. «He said the shelf, James. And where are your glasses?» he asked, his lanky figure advancing through the mess, flanking Sirius.
«Leave it to me.» He said, brushing the boy's shirt in a rough caress with his fingertips. Sirius dropped his hands to his sides, biting his cheek and peering at Lupin with two feverish irises.
«In my pocket.» James wiped his damp forehead, answering inattentively.
Remus, brows furrowed and tapered fingers slipping easily over the buttons, let out a low grunt. «And tell me, James -the other nodded even though he couldn't be seen- is your pocket blind?»
James pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose, feeling in the back pocket of his jeans and nodding slowly as if to give concrete form to his thoughts. He grabbed his glasses and reality, at first blurry, revealed itself in sudden, crisp clarity.
Sirius felt a startled intensity in the warmth of Remus's fingers. There was a slowness in his gesture, a reluctant regard, his breath half held in silent rigidity.
His curls, a soft brown, fell lazily around his face. He looked at Sirius with tired eyes, the hazel irises retaining a restlessness that made his movements numb.
A white scar started in a deep furrow just above his left eyebrow, tracing a rough line until it cut the soft curve of his lips. His fingers, tapered and pale, were now discreetly withdrawing from the fabric of Sirius's shirt.
"Thank you," the other murmured, and Remus forced himself not to look at him. The silence between them was broken only by the soft creaking of the floorboards as Sirius shifted, his gaze now turned away, his irises feverish.
Peter, meanwhile, had dozed off in the armchair next to the bed. He awoke, however, with a slight start when James exclaimed triumphantly,
«You were right! It's here, on the shelf.»
YOU ARE READING
The Unspeakable Sort ||Jegulus||
FanfictionENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE James Potter believes that everyone has the ability to choose who they want to be. But then why would Regulus choose to be a Black? Regulus Black knows who he wants to be, but he also knows who he is. Unfortunately...
