daydream ' james potter

13 - push

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"Lily won't think you're playing her," Mrs. Potter assures James over evening tea.

Mickey is out back practicing his quidditch, so James isn't worried about him overhearing anything. "Mom, that's not it. I like Lily, I do."

"Sweetie— " and her voice is in that pity-filled honey tone that makes James feel like a child again. "Maybe liking Lily was a habit. I'm not trying to invalidate your feelings, but it is possible that you kept your feelings for her purely for the familiarity of it."

"Maybe," James whispers. He still feels horrible. There's this heavy knot in his chest that makes him feel like the worst person in the world. Lily deserves better. Mickey deserves better.

"What's this about, love?"

James doesn't know what to tell his mother. He's not afraid she'll reject him if she finds out he likes a boy, but he wonders if she'll make Mickey leave because of James' crush. And right now, James really can't deal with that.
"I feel like a horrible person."

-

Lily presses her lips together. She's sitting on her doorstep, and James is too nervous to sit, so he stays standing up and fidgets with his sweater.

"You're not a horrible person," Lily finally says. "I think... I think maybe you're right."

James' eyes widen. "I am?"

Lily wraps her sweater tighter around her body and shrugs. "I mean, it's completely possible that we both got caught in the cat and mouse aspect and didn't really realize that the feelings died out a long ago."

James sits down beside Lily and sighs. He watches the sun disappear behind the trees from across the street. "Yeah."

Lily rests her head on James' shoulder. "I think I'm learning a few things about myself. Sexuality-wise."

James thinks he should tell her. He feels the knot in his throat, and it rises and rises until it falls out of his mouth unceremoniously. "I like Mickey."

Lily giggles. "I know, James. I think I like Anita."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Lily grabs James' hand and squeezes it. "It's okay if feelings change, James. We're still young. We're still figuring it out."

James still feels bothered. "I don't want to make Mickey uncomfortable. He's staying at my house, and I'm scared he's going to notice my change in feelings. He's going to become uncomfortable and it's going to be my fault when he leaves and goes back to his dad's house, and I just—"

"James, breathe." Lily turns James' chin until he's looking at her. "You're probably the person Mickey trusts most in this world. You would never do anything to make him uncomfortable. Everyone knows that. You'll be fine."

"Yeah," James breathes. The deep thrumming in his heart doesn't stop. He thinks of Mickey's arms around his waist and his breath against his throat and just how much he doesn't want this to end. He places his head in his hands.

"James, are you okay?"

-

"Yeah, I'm fine," James lies.

How. How. How.

Why. Why. Why.

James can't feel his own tongue. He's afraid he's swallowed it. But really, can he be blamed?

He comes home from Lily's, having calmed down as much as he could, only to come home to Mickey, shirtless in his room.

James can't even wrap his head around the last key detail; the one that's making his stomach flare with a million burning flames and his neck turn a brilliant shade of pink.

Mickey got a tattoo.

Two, technically. Two delicate little bouquets across each of his collarbones. Black ink stark against his tanned skin.

And he grins. Grins, like James isn't dying inside. Grins, like James isn't holding back every urge to just reach forward and touch. Grins, like he's proud of James' reaction.

James decides then that Mickey Einstein is a special breed of evil.

"Sirius took me," he says proudly. He begins unbuttoning his jeans, and James averts his eyes, too afraid his feelings will be painted across his face if he looks.

Mickey must be secretly the worst person in the world, because he just... doesn't change. He stays in his boxers. Stupid, plaid boxers that don't reach past his mid thighs.

James is gonna die. He's gonna die.

Mickey is still staring at him with that stupid grin, like he knows. And maybe he does. Maybe he's doing this on purpose to fuck with James, and if he is, James thinks he's doing a pretty good job of it.

"Sirius?" He manages to say, though he's surprised he can keep up with this conversation at all. "He would."

"He and Millie got matching tattoos. Lipstick marks. They were pretty rad, actually. He said he wanted to take you and the boys up there for matching tattoos."

James thinks of antlers across his chest. He wonders if Mickey would find the design pretty.

Mickey is such a beautiful whirlwind. He's chaos and mirth and trickery and pure joy, and James is having a hard time keeping up with it all.

He kind of, selfishly, wants Mickey to think as highly of him as he thinks of Mickey. Maybe it's wrong to wish, since they're nothing more than friends, but James wants to be thought of as handsome in Mickey's eyes. Not just handsome, but pretty, and special, and anything else Mickey wants him to be.

He just wants to be good enough for Mickey. "Let's go to bed," He croaks out."

"My room is ready," Mickey says. "I don't have to sleep in here anymore if I don't want to."

James nearly bursts into tears right there. But he manages to compose himself and burrows under the covers; pulls them up to his shoulders. "Oh," he manages.

He closes his eyes and wills Mickey to leave. Only the doesn't, because Mickey is fickle like that. Soon the covers are lifting, and an arm is snaking around James' waist from behind.

He holds his breath and counts a beat before he feels Mickey squeeze him tight and giggle against his back. "I want to."

-

mickey: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
james: ʕʘ‿ʘʔ

as usual pls don't hold your opinions back about what you like and disliked!

and feel free to let me know what you'd like to see in future chapters :P

thank you guys so much for reading his story. it really means a lot to me.
also, happy pride month !!