"Comfortable?" Sirius asks with a small twist of his lips as he strips off his robes, eager to join James on the bed.
James beat him to the Room of Requirement tonight and he apparently wasted no time settling in. He's sprawled out naked on the lavish king-sized bed the room Conjured up for them, beautiful and comfortable in his nudity. His warm skin glows in the flickering candlelight, and when he smiles up at Sirius something catches in his chest, something that hurts and feels good in equal measure. He loves James, loves him as more than just a mate, and most of the time he's pretty sure James feels the same. In another world he'd get to have this forever, plus all the other things he dreams about: holding James's hand as they walk to class, kissing him on the Quidditch pitch after James has helped Gryffindor win the cup, getting a flat together after Hogwarts with only one room, because there's no reason to pretend they'll be using the second.
But they don't live in another world, they live in this one, where homosexuality is still considered taboo, at least by the pure-blood set, even good ones like James's parents. James isn't like Sirius; he's always been attracted to witches as well as wizards, and for all of James's brave Gryffindor bluster, in this his courage has always seemed to fail him. He's scared, and Sirius wants to hate him for it, but he loves James too much for that. Sirius knows they've lived different lives, that James had a childhood full of love and nourishment, that, in a sense, he's always been a bit spoiled, coddled. Sirius has already burned plenty of bridges in his short time on earth, and he's never been able to hide who he is—not for his parents, or his brother, not even for James. James isn't ready to tell the world to go to hell, not when he could be well and truly happy with the wife and kids that his parents want for him. It wouldn't be a lie for James the way it would be for Sirius, even if it's not entirely the truth, either.
The wife and kids may not be too far off if Sirius is right about Evans. After years of rebuffing James's advances she's finally said yes, and they've got a date tomorrow night. James has been oscillating between excitement and dread, his mind racing a million miles a minute as he obsesses over the impending date. Which is why Sirius told James to meet him here tonight, in this room that has always been theirs. Nothing calms James's mind like a good, hard shag, and Sirius would be lying if he said he isn't feeling particularly possessive tonight, wondering how much longer James will be all his until he has to start sharing him.
Until he loses him completely.
"I'm good, Padfoot," James says, the words surprisingly sincere. Perhaps he senses the magnitude of this moment as much as Sirius does, because there is none of his usual teasing flippance. He pulls Sirius down on top of him, their naked bodies pressing together before he brushes a kiss against Sirius's lips. When he pulls back, his expression is nervous, his eyes skittish as they dance around, unable to settle. "I was thinking…"
"What is it?" Sirius asks when James doesn't continue, a bolt of anxiety piercing his stomach.
James's cheeks turn pink. "I want to feel you tonight. All of you, like we've talked about."
Sirius's brow furrows. They've talked about a lot of things—they share a love of the sound of their own voices, a penchant that has followed them both into the bedroom. There's no end to the stream of dirty fantasies that they've shared, and Sirius isn't sure which one James was referring to.
"You want me to fuck you? I can do that." They've done it before, though not as often as either of them would like—it's rare to have an evening like this alone together, somewhere they won't be interrupted.
James shakes his head and bites his lip. "Not… exactly. I want you to fuck me, just… not with your cock." His hands, which have been resting on Sirius's bare back, slide up to his shoulders then down his arms. He threads his fingers through Sirius's before bringing one of their linked hands up to his mouth, pressing a wet kiss to Sirius's knuckles as he stares into Sirius's eyes. It's all there for Sirius to see: want, fear, longing, hunger. Sirius's stomach flips.
James wants Sirius's fist.
They have talked about it before, a number of times, though always in the heat of the moment. James has a thing for Sirius's fingers, and though Sirius hasn't ever really understood the appeal himself, it's always given him a bit of a thrill to see how much James loves them. He loves them wrapped tight around his dick and leaving bruises on his hips, loves sucking on them like they're Sirius's cock and, once, loved them wrapped oh-so-gently around his throat. But James always seems to love them best when they're inside him, fingering him open.
Sirius hadn't even realised what he was saying the first time he suggested it. He had three fingers buried to the knuckle in James's arse, watching with hungry fascination as James bucked and writhed as Sirius stroked over his prostate. His arse was stretched so beautifully around Sirius's fingers, the rim slick and elastic, and they were both half-out of their minds with lust as Sirius babbled filth while finger-fucking him. James was so desperate for it, so eager to be filled, and Sirius had wondered aloud if he could take Sirius's fist. James came not long after that, and the fantasy worked its way into regular rotation, but Sirius never really gave it serious thought. The idea was hot, no doubt about it, but Sirius assumed it was one of those things that was hotter in theory than practice. He enjoys a good buggering as much as the next bloke, but the thought of a fist up his own arse makes him clench up with discomfort.
But James is here now looking at him with unmistakable longing, and Sirius knows James isn't fooling around. He wants it, wants to take Sirius's fist, and desire hits Sirius so fast and hard it leaves him dizzy. They've experienced so many firsts together, and Sirius is greedy enough that he'd take them all, be James's first, last, only. But that's not on the table, so Sirius will take what he can get. He'll reach right inside James, as far as he can go, leave his mark there so that James can't ever forget Sirius, even if he won't keep him the way Sirius wants to be kept.
"Okay," Sirius whispers, his heart pounding like they've just narrowly escaped Filch and his increasingly severe detentions.
"Yeah?" James asks, hopeful and anxious. His usual cocky arrogance has been stripped away, and it makes Sirius's heart clench, knowing he's one of the few people who gets to see James like this. It makes Sirius want to give him everything, makes Sirius want to hold on tight even as James seems to be slipping out of his hands like water.
"Yeah," Sirius says, kissing James hard and deep as he Conjures up a palmful of lube.
And maybe Sirius has been lying to himself, pretending that the thought of fisting James has only ever been an errant fantasy. Because he's done some research, poring over the section on fisting in the gay sex book he purchased at a wizarding sex shop in London over the summer. He knows now that it's better to use a different lube than the standard Lubrication Charm, something a bit thicker, greasier, and Sirius spent hours perfecting the provided incantation, just in case he ever needed it.
It feels like butter in his hands as he eases back from James's tempting mouth to settle on his knees between James's spread legs. His skin vibrates with anxiety—what if he's terrible at this? what if he hurts James?—but James gives him a slow, sweet smile, full of open trust, and the anxiety melts away. This is James, his best mate, his soulmate, even if James won't admit it. Whatever happens tonight, they're in it together.
He casts a thorough Cleaning Charm and rubs a finger over James's hole. It seems smaller than ever, tonight, perhaps because of its unnatural smoothness. James hasn't ever shaved for Sirius before, but tonight his arse is completely hairless. It wasn't like Sirius thought this was just some random whim of James's, but something about seeing the proof of James's planning and prep makes lust burn hot through Sirius's veins. He eases his middle finger inside, and there's barely any resistance, just James's silky-smooth channel welcoming him. James blinks at Sirius, slow and content, seemingly satisfied with following Sirius's lead, letting him set the pace. It makes Sirius want to puff his chest out with pride that James believes in him so much, that he's not only confessed this deep desire, but that he trusts Sirius to take him where he wants to go, to make things good for him.
He slides in another finger along with the first, watching for that flicker of emotion on James's face as he starts to really feel it. Sirius pets along James's insides, stroking absently over his prostate, rubbing his knuckles against James's rim. He knows how much James loves to really feel Sirius's fingers, so he makes sure he does, never letting James forget that it's Sirius's fingers inside of him driving him wild. He doesn't rush this bit, not only because he knows he needs to ease James into being able to take Sirius's fist, but also because they both enjoy it so much. Sirius isn't sure what it will be like to fist James, but he is going to make damn sure they enjoy the journey.
James is wild for it, desperate and needy as Sirius slowly works up to three fingers, then four, rubbing along his stretched-out arsehole with the pad of his thumb. Sirius isn't sure if it's the anticipation that's driving James mad, or if it's the knowledge that these little interludes of theirs are nearing their end. Sirius doesn't know Evans all that well—jealousy and her obvious disdain for his and James's antics haven't endeared her to him—but she's exactly the kind of bird James has always talked about settling down with, and something tells Sirius she might really be the one. Who knows, maybe she'll be the type of woman who doesn't mind if her husband has a male lover on the side, but Sirius doubts it. Even if she is, Sirius doesn't know if he's the kind of man who would be okay being somebody's dirty secret. It's not always been easy being himself, living as authentically as he can, but at least it's real. He spent too long in Grimmauld Place making himself small just so he could survive. Sirius doesn't think he can do it again, not even for James. Especially after knowing first-hand what it feels like to have all of him.
"More," James gasps, his legs spread wide and his hips undulating against Sirius's hand where he's got four fingers twisting in and out of James's hole. "Give me your thumb, Padfoot. Give me your whole damn fist."
Sirius's cock is so hard it aches, flushed red and dripping all along his thigh as he ignores it in favour of James's gorgeous arsehole. Tonight isn't about him, it's about James: James, who's begging Sirius with his mouth and eyes and body to give him what they both want. Sirius rubs his thumb more insistently around James's relaxed rim before slowly easing his fingers out until just the tips are inside. He runs a sweaty palm along James's hip, meets his eager, glassy eyes.
"Ready?" he asks, his voice cracking. Normally James would be giving him shit for it, but tonight he doesn't even seem to notice.
"Yeah, I'm ready."
"Okay," Sirius replies. "Okay. Breath for me and relax. If it's too much just tell me to stop." He meets James's eyes, wanting to be sure he takes this part seriously. "I know you want this, but please don't make me hurt you."
James's jaw hardens mulishly for a moment before whatever he sees in Sirius's eyes softens him. He nods. "I'll tell you, I promise."
James's words ease some of the tension knotting up Sirius's shoulders, and he leans forward to brush a kiss against James's lips. He tastes sweet, like that Muggle bubblegum Evans is always chewing, and Sirius banishes that thought before it can derail him. Sirius doesn't want to stop kissing James but he clenches around Sirius's fingertips, a gentle reminder, and Sirius pulls back, his heart pounding.
He cups one hand along the jut of James's hipbone, bracing himself, and begins to work all five of his fingers inside James. He makes sure his palm is facing down towards James's tailbone and he rocks them in and out slowly, easing inside a little more each time, watching as James's arse relaxes and expands around him. His fingers are pressed tightly together, a vaguely conical shape tapering out to his prominent knuckles, the widest part of his hand. Sirius has always had a somewhat shameful pride in his dick, ever since he hit puberty and realised he seemed to be packing well above average, at least compared to the rest of his mates. James hasn't ever balked at taking it, not even that first time, but Sirius's hand is a good deal bigger than his cock, thicker, and even as Sirius is pressing into James, he feels a frisson of panic that his knuckles won't possibly fit.
James, miraculously, seems almost entirely unworried, though it's clear he's feeling the stretch as Sirius breaches the first ring of muscles. Sirius can practically see his brain whirring as he forces himself to relax and breathe into it, to let Sirius in. But any moments of fear or anxiety melt away almost the moment they appear, overwhelmed by desire, by the unflinching way James has of throwing himself into the kinds of amazing, terrifying, unbelievable things most people run screaming from.
A sudden give of pressure has the both of them gasping; Sirius's hand is inside.
James's mouth drops open as his breathing picks up, and he looks at Sirius with pure wonder and need. Something fierce rises up in Sirius's chest, an emotion so big he doesn't know if his body can possibly bear it, the truth and the magnitude of his feelings for James. He doesn't bother trying to hide it, doesn't think he could if he tried, not as connected as they are right now, both of them stripped and laid bare. James's rim flutters and clenches around Sirius's wrist—his wrist—and his entire channel seems to ripple all around Sirius's hand, blood-hot and silky smooth.
Carefully, Sirius curls his fingers down to form a fist and begins to move with gentle pressure, rotating and rocking his hand the way the book suggested. James shudders and clenches the bedsheets in his own fists, looking at Sirius with wide, overwhelmed eyes. His cock is still hard and leaking against his belly, and it jumps when Sirius's knuckles grind against James's prostate.
It's intense, that's the only word for it, overwhelming and overpowering. Sirius thought he knew what it meant to be connected to James, to be inside of him, but this is so much more. He can't get over the fact that it's his whole damn hand undulating inside James's arse right now, his hand making James keen and wail. They've always been vocal in bed, but Sirius hasn't ever heard James get so loud before, like Sirius is making him feel so much that he can't be quiet if he tried. It's powerful, special, seeing James like this, hearing his deep, primal moans of pain-tinged pleasure. He's so beautiful, lost in the sensations Sirius is giving to him, tears clinging to his thick lashes as he loses his mind on Sirius's fist.
Time ceases to exist. Sirius doesn't know how long they move together, lost in their own little world. What Sirius does know is that he won't forget this, not ever. Even if time and the world take James away from him, they can't take this moment, this memory. James may not be able to publicly claim Sirius as his own, but he's brave enough to give Sirius this indelible proof of his love and trust. It hurts, just a little, knowing that if things were different Sirius could have this forever, but for this lifetime, these stolen moments are enough.
James's wails reach a fever pitch, a screaming crescendo that heralds his release as he comes all over his belly. It seems to last forever, James's balls emptying a truly staggering amount of come as he literally sobs through his climax. Sirius read that the experience could be extremely emotional and he feels his own eyes prickle as he watches James take in great gasps of air as he cries and trembles. All he wants to do is pull James into his arms, but one of said arms is still lodged up James's arse, and he knows yanking himself out too quickly may make things worse. He pets every bit of James's skin he can reach and modulates his voice into something gentle and soothing as he tells James how amazing he is, how perfect, and lovely, and special. He straightens his fingers out as he does, knowing he'll want to make his hand as slim as possible for the exit.
Eventually James's tremors ease and his sobs gentle into hiccuping sniffles. He meets Sirius's eyes, looking somewhat bewildered and overwhelmed, and Sirius has never loved him more.
"Ready for me to pull out?" Sirius asks, hating to break the quiet but needing to ensure James is prepared. James nods, clearly as reluctant to speak as Sirius, and Sirius braces his palm on James's hip as he begins to inch his hand out the same way he worked it in. James lets out a cry when Sirius's knuckles slip out, a gutteral sound of loss that inspires another round of tears and makes Sirius's heart clench. As quickly as he can he uses his wand to spell them both clean before scrambling up the bed to pull James into his arms.
James clings to him, burying his face in Sirius's neck and burrowing so close it's like he wants to crawl inside Sirius's skin. Sirius understands the impulse. For all that he's been in love with James for years, he's never felt so close to him, so connected. There isn't anything in the world that could get him to leave James's side right now.
"Sorry," James whispers against his skin. "You didn't even come. I'll pull it together in a minute."
"Don't worry about that. I feel like I came, watching you. Honestly, I'd rather just hold you." It's unbelievably sappy, but James doesn't tease him, just holds on tighter.
"I didn't expect it to be like that, at the end."
"Me neither," Sirius agrees before tentatively venturing, "Was it bad?"
James shakes his head. "No! No, it was amazing. But really fucking intense. It was like you reached inside of me and yanked out every feeling I've ever felt. I've never…" He trails off, and when he speaks again his voice is barely audible. "I'm glad it was you. I can't imagine experiencing something like that with anybody else."
It's an admission, an offering. Sirius knows James hasn't changed his mind, that he's still going out with Evans tomorrow, still planning on finding that perfect witch to settle down and raise a family with. But for now, at least, Sirius is the most important person in James's world, the one he trusts unequivocally. Some aspects of their relationship will change in the coming years, Sirius knows that, but they're strong enough to weather any storm. They're Prongs and Padfoot. They can survive anything.
"Yeah," Sirius agrees, squeezing James tight. "I'm glad it was me, too."