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James sometimes thought he didn’t really understand much of anything.
Sure, there were things he knew, he understood as fact, like:
- His two best friends—and his flatmates—were together, and they were very much in love.
- James, on the other hand, was single. He was not in a relationship with anyone, and certainly not with his in-love mates.
But then, James didn’t understand why sometimes he felt like he was.
Why, at odd moments, Sirius planted a sweet kiss on his mouth, his tongue grazing James’s bottom lip until he opened for him.
Why, sometimes, Remus placed a proprietary hand across his throat, ghosting his lips over James’s jaw and whispering praise into his ear.
Why, just the other morning, he woke up with Sirius in front of him, long raven waves wild around his head, features soft and devastating in the grey light of early morning. One of Sirius’s hands rested on James’s sharp hip bone, and the other held James’s own hand in a light tangle of fingers.
As he studied Sirius’s face, he realised there was another body behind him, one hand wrapped around James’s throat, the hold heavy in sleep. A thigh was wedged between James’s legs, the wiry muscle of it pressing into that place behind James’s bollocks. Remus.
So, no, James didn’t think he understood much of anything, least of all what the hell was going on with Sirius and Remus…
And him.
•✹•
“Lils,” James started, gaze fixed determinedly on the half-drunk coffee—two creams, two sugars—held between his palms. He leaned forward slightly to be heard over the din of the coffee shop. “How do you know when you’re in a relationship?”
James didn’t look up, but he could easily see the expression that would be on Lily’s face: mouth turned down, eyes narrowed, a crease between her brows.
“What do you mean, ‘how do you know?’ I’d imagine it’s pretty obvious.”
James finally chanced a glance up. He’d been right.
He opened his mouth to tell her about the kisses and the touches and the morning in James’s bed. About how Remus had stirred first, flexing his thigh until James’s cock had filled from the sensation. Then Sirius had ghosted his knuckles across James’s erection, covered only by the flannel of his pyjama bottoms. James had struggled trying to extricate himself from between the two of them, then dashed into their single hall bath, pulling himself off in the shower, protected behind the locked door.
The words wouldn’t come, though.
How mad did he sound? I think there’s something going on between me and Sirius and Remus.
Yes, I know they’re with each other.
But they might be trying to be with me too.
“Nothing,” James finally said. When it looked like Lily would argue, he pivoted. “How’s things with Mary?”
•✹•
James startled to a seated position, unsure of what had caused him to wake so completely. He checked the digital clock on his bedside table, just barely able to make out the red letters without his glasses.
2:37
Fuck.
He opened his bedroom door slowly; the hinges creaked otherwise. He didn’t bother with sleep pants or a shirt over the briefs he slept in since he was just going to the kitchen for some water before hopefully drifting back off. He had a big exam at 9:00 and really didn’t want to sit for it after only two hours of sleep.
Despite the hour, James realised the flat wasn’t entirely quiet as he stepped into the hall. He heard the soft rustle of sheets coming from the other bedroom, a noise so low he wouldn’t have heard it if the door weren’t half open. Thinking it was just Sirius or Remus moving in their sleep, James took another step.
He froze when a lowly uttered “Fuck” was followed by a deep groan. James’s heart hammered in his chest, and his mind screamed at him to turn the fuck back, but something carried him forward, one step, and then another, until he could see through the few feet of space the open door left.
He didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse that the room’s occupants had left the curtains drawn back, letting the soft light of the almost-full moon and the streetlamps outside highlight the scene taking place. Sirius was on his back, head thrown back and hands fisting the sheets, his arse resting on Remus’s thighs. Remus was rolling his hips as he held Sirius in place and watched him writhe, a look of blatant hunger on his face.
“Moony,” Sirius whimpered, lifting a hand and bringing it towards his cock, which, even from a distance and in the faint light, James could see was weeping and a deep, angry colour. James felt a pulse in his own groin as he wondered just how long they’d been going, how long Sirius had been deprived of release.
Remus slapped Sirius’s hand away as a low growl worked its way up his throat. “No, not yet.”
James stood frozen as he continued to watch, knowing this was all sorts of fucked up, but he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the elegant line of Sirius’s arched back or the sweet curve of his arse, or the hypnotic roll of Remus’s hips or the flex of his lean stomach with each thrust.
James realised early in his teens that he was attracted to people, not to a particular gender, and his two best mates were two of the fittest people he knew. He’d always appreciated the soft, smooth contours of Sirius’s features and the more brutal, wild configuration of Remus’s. And yet, despite knowing he found them attractive, he’d never felt a desire to be with either of them. Sirius and Remus, after all, belonged to each other.
And yet, now, watching them, his entire body practically vibrated with his want. His cock throbbed, his bollocks ached. God, they were beautiful, and James wanted to join them, to kiss along Sirius’s neck and jaw, to take him in his hand, to bite into his shoulder as he cried out in pleasure. He wanted to dig the pads of his fingers into Remus’s arse, to feel the flexing of his body as he rode Sirius, to bruise his golden skin. He wanted to run his tongue up his spine and taste his salty sweat.
James stuffed his fist into his mouth to stifle his groan. Oh fuck. His other hand came down to grip his erection through his pants, but he stopped himself, imagining Remus smacking his hand away as he’d done to Sirius.
No, James could not touch himself while watching his friends fuck in their own bedroom in the middle of the night. He wasn’t sure what kind of guy did that, but whoever he was, James was not like that.
Okay, he was apparently a bit of a voyeur because he was still watching—seriously, why couldn’t he get his feet to move?—but he wasn’t a pervert.
Remus leaned forward, his mouth only inches from Sirius’s, and murmured something, his voice so low that James’s couldn’t hear it. Whatever it was pulled another groan from Sirius, and James cursed. Fuck, what’d he say?
Then, Sirius’s head turned, his hooded gaze locking right on James where he stood. Shit. James bit into his fist so hard he broke skin, the metallic tang of blood exploding across his tongue.
Sirius’s lips pulled back into a grimace as his eyes squeezed shut, and his untouched cock pulsed, his come painting his own stomach and chest. Despite being caught, James watched, transfixed, as Remus picked up his pace, now pounding into Sirius, whose whole body seemed to be trembling from the strength of his release.
Remus’s gaze stayed fixed on his boyfriend, but when his hips stuttered, then stopped, the word that fell from his lips, low and husky, was finally enough to startle James into movement.
His long strides took him back to his own room where he pulled the door shut behind him, uncaring of the creaking hinge. He collapsed onto his bed and fought to ignore the insistent throbbing of his cock. It was a fight he lost.
And as he came with his face buried in his pillow, the memory of Remus saying “James” while he emptied into Sirius played on a loop in James’s mind.
•✹•
The week following ‘the incident,’ as James had taken to calling it in his head, felt normal. Too normal.
He hadn’t seen either of his friends before leaving that morning for class, and as he’d walked home a few hours later, he’d decided that he wouldn’t say anything if they didn’t.
When he’d walked through the front door, only to be tackled by Sirius, whining, “Please, please, please, Prongs, let’s get curry tonight. It’s been foooreeeeverrrrr since I’ve had it,” with Remus off to the side, leaning on his cane and with a fond smile on his lips as he watched, James realised avoidance was their way of dealing with the incident as well.
So, none of them had said a word.
Of course, their ‘normal’ still included honeyed kisses from Sirius over morning coffee and firm grabs from Remus while they moved about the kitchen making dinner. It included soft whispers of warm praise and a sense of belonging to these two people who already belonged to one another.
Fortunately—or unfortunately depending on his mood—the times James heard heavy breaths and groans and the rhythmic thumping of a headboard coming from Sirius and Remus’s room, the door was always closed. It seemed that had been a one-time thing.
On a Thursday, James’s afternoon econ class was cancelled, so he arrived home to an empty flat. Remus and Sirius wouldn’t be back for at least another hour or two.
James wandered their shared space, an odd tightness in his chest and tension coursing through his veins, leaving him feeling like an open live wire, ready to spark and ignite at the barest touch. He settled on the leather sofa, the copy of the Iliad he was supposed to read for his classic literature seminar open on his lap. Not even the promise of Achilles seeking revenge in brutal fashion for Patroclus’s death could hold his attention.
He headed down the hall towards his own room, hoping he’d be sorted after a quick nap, but he stopped at the door to Sirius and Remus’s bedroom instead. Their combined smell was heady: leather and citrus (Sirius), chocolate and lavender (Remus), cigarettes (both of them), and something else underneath it all, something musky and earthy and primal, like sex.
Without even consciously thinking, James sat at the end of their bed, just breathing in the comfort of them. Images of the incident flashed across his mind, and knowing this was where Remus knelt, fucking into Sirius slow and deep, caused James’s cock to fill indecently.
“Shit,” he breathed as he fell back onto the bed, right where Sirius had lain. He undid the button and zipper on his jeans and pushed them and his pants down enough just for his cock to spring free, a bead of precome flicking onto his stomach. He cringed at the way his dry hand caught on the soft skin of his cock, the slight friction as he pulled at himself uncomfortable.
He rolled onto Sirius’s side of the bed in order to reach his bedside table, then slathered his palm in the lotion Sirius kept there. Thank all that was holy for Sirius’s obsessive moisturising routine.
The soft citrus smell of the lotion sent a shiver down James’s spine and pulled a groan from his lips. Fuck. He pushed his shirt up to just under his chin, closed his eyes, and imagined Sirius there, running soft hands up and down James’s body, his sweet mouth pulled into that tender smile he reserved only for Remus and James. James tweaked his nipples with his free hand until the sensitive buds tightened into hard, aching points.
James turned his head to bury his nose in the quilt and could just make out the soft lavender smell of Remus’s detergent. He imagined Remus there, every touch and word laced with possession. He’d drag out James’s pleasure, tease him, leave him on the edge of release. His grip on James would be tight around the base of his cock, staying his orgasm.
James’s back arched painfully, his toes curled, his entire body went taut as the pressure built. Stars danced behind his eyelids as the pleasure crested, and then crashed like a wave on the shore. James released a keening cry while his cock pulsed in his grip, his warm come painting his stomach and chest. His orgasm was nearly painful in its intensity, and he trembled in its wake.
James didn’t know how long he lay sprawled there, and he was sure at one point he drifted to sleep only to startle back awake, aware of how horrible this would look if Sirius and Remus were to come home, only to find him asleep on their bed, his dried spend on his chest and stomach.
He shuffled to the hall bath and locked himself inside. James stood under the scalding stream of the shower until his skin was red and sore, and he could almost imagine that the water had washed his shame away.
•✹•
James read the same paragraph for the fifth time and sighed, setting the book on his bedside table. He glanced at his clock. Not even 8:00 yet.
He’d been hiding in his room all afternoon and evening, greeting Sirius and Remus with nothing more than a shouted hello through the door and an apology that he had too much studying to do and would have to skip out on binge watching Friends. Again. It was Sirius’s favourite show, and though James and Remus hated it, neither could deny Sirius anything.
Except tonight. James could practically hear Sirius’s pouting through the door, but he held firm. If he had to look either of his friends in the eye, he was afraid he would crack and tell them he’d had one of the most intense orgasms of his life on their bed, his hand slicked with Sirius’s lotion, both of them there in his imagination.
Despite his shame, the memory caused a faint stirring in his cock again, and James groaned. The fucking thing was becoming a nuisance. He buried his head under his pillow and let out a scream of frustration. What was he doing? He should text Lily and see if she knew anyone single. Clearly he’d gone round the bend from a lack of regular shagging.
A knock at the door brought James’s spiral to a halt.
“Yes?” he called out, lifting the pillow just enough so as to be heard clearly.
Remus came in, not bothering to ask if it was alright first. He leaned heavily on his cane, as he often did this late in the day.
“Sirius is pouting,” he said, loud enough that Sirius called from somewhere else in the flat “Nuh uh!” Remus and James shared knowing smirks.
Remus settled on James’s bed, a low moan escaping when he took his weight off his leg. James bit his lip as he sat up, smoothing the covers on his lap for something to do with his hands that wasn’t running them all over his best mate who was in a relationship with his other best mate.
Remus studied James, his full mouth still pulled into that smirk. The glint in his eye, no longer teasing, looked—James could think of no other word for it—predatory. James’s pulse quickened, and he really hoped Remus couldn’t see it hammering under the thin skin of his neck. His cock started to fill once more with the intensity of Remus’s gaze, and James thought again he really needed to meet someone because this was becoming a rather serious problem.
Remus held James’s gaze as he reached a scarred hand out to pull the covers back from James’s body, his other hand coming up, his thumb rubbing absently back and forth across his lower lip. James wanted to lean forward and suck that thumb into his own mouth, then that lip.
Remus’s perusal of James’s body brought a hot flush to his neck and cheeks. He was wearing an old Manchester United tee that his dad had gotten him for his fourteenth birthday that he couldn’t bring himself to throw out despite that it was so tight across his chest and shoulders that he’d actually heard a seam tear when he’d pulled it on earlier. Other than that, James hadn’t bothered with trousers and was in just a pair of black boxer briefs.
Remus ghosted his palm over James’s shin and up his thigh, stopping to dig his fingertips into the thick muscle there. James let out a yelp of surprise at the slight pain and the unexpected brazenness of the touch.
“What are you—” James started, then cut off with a moan when Remus’s fingers worked under the hem of James’s short briefs, digging into the juncture where his thigh and hip meet.
“Lie back,” Remus said, his tone casual, at odds with the blatant hunger on his face and fierceness in his grip. “Shirt,” he added before James was fully prone. There was another definite rip of a seam when he hurriedly pulled the t-shirt over his head.
James should really have figured out what the fuck was going on before he ended up lying on his bed in nothing but his pants, but he trusted Remus, and he trusted Remus’s love for Sirius. Whatever this was, it was okay.
Remus crawled onto the bed next to James, propping himself up on an elbow and again taking in James’s body. James felt his stomach clench in anticipation.
“Pants.”
James stared, not comprehending exactly what was being said. Remus raised his left brow, the one with the thick scar running through it, and waited.
With a lack of any other courses of action available to him—James didn’t at that moment possess the adequate vocabulary to ask what in the name of God was happening, and for some reason, disobeying Remus didn’t feel like an option—James hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and started to pull when a cry caused him to freeze, his heart in his throat.
“Wait!”
Sirius stood in the doorway, his grey eyes wide and cheeks tinged pink.
Shit.
James was barmy to think this was fine.
“Sirius, listen,” he started, unsure of how he’d even justify what he had been about to do, but Sirius’s gaze was fixed on Remus, who looked entirely unbothered by the proceedings.
“You were going to start without me?!” Sirius practically whined, throwing himself into the room in a loose flailing of limbs.
And oh.
“Get on the bed then,” Remus said, nodding his head towards the headboard. “Up there.” The way Remus spoke was no different than normal. Same volume. Same cadence. Same tone. He could have been talking about his most recent read or what he’d had for breakfast.
And yet, James could feel the command in his words, and apparently Sirius could as well because he crawled onto the bed without another word, without his usual dramatics. Sirius settled himself against the headboard, the lazy drape of his arms across the heavy wood at odds with the tense set of his jaw and hunger in his gaze.
“What do you think, Pads,” Remus started, his gaze returned to James, whose thumbs were, stupidly, still stuck under the elastic band of his pants. “Doesn’t our Prongs look good enough to eat?” The sinful words were accompanied by the pads of Remus’s fingers rubbing lightly down James’s torso, pulling a full-body shudder from him.
Remus hooked a finger into the band and snapped, causing James to yelp out, more in surprise than hurt.
“I already told you to remove these,” Remus said as he dipped his head to run his tongue where the elastic had snapped against James’s skin.
“Fuck,” James heard Sirius breathe from where he watched as James complied, working the tight briefs down over his thighs, leaving him entirely naked in front of his two friends who were both still fully clothed, Sirius in a t-shirt and loose athletic shorts, Remus still in the trousers and jumper he’d obviously worn to class that day.
Only once he was completely exposed did James realise how bloody hard he already was; he’d been so caught up in his confusion by Remus’s entrance and then his fear that Sirius was upset—only to be confused once again when he discovered how on-board Sirius was with whatever this was—that the filling of his cock had happened without him even being fully cognisant.
“Oh, James.” Remus’s already deep voice somehow dropped even deeper, taking on a raspy quality as he completed a slow, thorough perusal of James’s body. His stomach clenched tight, and he let out a pathetic whimper as his cock twitched, a bead of precome dotting the head.
Remus’s tongue darted out to taste the salty liquid, and James cried out as he started to push to a seated position. Fuck. He didn’t know what to do with himself. What was he letting happen? What did it even mean?
Before James could sit up—to do what exactly, he had no clue—soft hands pulled him down by the shoulders until his head was resting in a warm lap, the stirring of a half-hard cock under him.
Sirius.
“I’ve got you,” Sirius murmured as he leaned down to press a kiss to James’s mouth, bringing his citrus and leather and cigarette scent with him, adding to the riot of tension building and churning in James’s gut. His skin felt itchy and too tight, and he couldn’t think clearly over the arousal zipping in his veins and the simple presence of Sirius and Remus in his bed. He was a being of pure want.
James’s back bowed when Remus’s warm, wet mouth wrapped around his cock, sucking hard on the head before taking him all the way down, the breath puffing out of Remus’s nose tickling the sensitive skin right above. It was only Sirius’s hands on his shoulders that kept him down, easy prey for Remus’s expert ministrations.
His tongue laved the throbbing vein on the underside of James’s prick as he bobbed up and down, his moans of enjoyment vibrating along James’s already-sensitised skin.
James’s thighs shook before his muscles went taut, and oh no, he was actually about to come after what couldn’t have been more than three or four minutes in Remus’s mouth.
Cool fingers wrapped tight around the base of James’s cock, tight enough to stave off his orgasm. With an obscene-sounding pop, Remus pulled off.
“Pads, lube?”
Other than a light pink flush to his cheeks and the saliva coating his lips and chin, Remus looked completely calm about what had just transpired, as if he hadn’t just nearly brought someone who wasn’t his boyfriend to release with nothing more than his mouth.
Without the promise of coming imminent, James finally had the presence of mind to ask, What the fuck is happening right now?
Or, rather, he had the presence of mind to start the question. He got out, “What the—”, but the rest of the words were replaced by another strangled cry when Remus simultaneously sucked James back down and ran the pad of a lubed finger over James’s furled hole.
Sirius murmured how good of a job James was doing, how beautiful he looked splayed out for them, as he leaned down to kiss and lick across James’s torso, his oversized tee brushing over James’s face and wrapping him in his scent. Sirius smelled like comfort, like protection, like home.
Just the tip of Remus’s finger breached James’s entrance, and stars sparked behind James’s lids. Remus worked him with one finger, the slow, wet drag of the digit paired with the warm suction of his mouth enough to have James nearly in tears in Sirius’s arms.
A second finger, a light brush over his prostrate, and James was tipping over the edge, shouting as he came into Remus’s mouth. Sirius kept one hand on James’s shoulder while the other tweaked his nipple, adding just that little bit of extra stimulation. Tears gathered along James’s lashes, one falling free and rolling down his temple and into his sweat-soaked hairline.
“You’re perfect, James,” Sirius said. “So, so perfect.”
James’s body felt foreign, at once too heavy, as if he’d sink through the mattress and the flats below and down into the earth, and too light, like he could float away, too close to the sun where he’d burn from the intensity of what he’d just done, or what was done to him, he didn’t know.
His heavy lids lifted in time for him to see Remus, lips parted, James’s spend visible on his tongue and dribbling down his chin, lean up to kiss Sirius, who licked into Remus’s mouth and groaned at the taste of James.
James moaned as his cock gave a half-hearted twitch.
Sirius laughed into Remus’s mouth. “I don’t think you’ll be ready to go again none too soon, Prongs.” His gaze flicked between James and Remus, and a white drop of come sat in the centre of his full bottom lip. “I’ve been on the receiving end of Remus’s blow jobs enough times to know how it feels like he sucks your soul out with your come.”
Remus rolled his eyes as he fell onto the bed, his front to James’s left side. James became rather conscious of the fact that he was still naked next to his clothed…
Just mates? Or something more?
Sirius threw a blanket over James as he settled on his other side, a look of pure satisfaction glinting in his silver eyes. He and Remus locked hands across James’s torso, murmuring sweet ‘I love you’s to one another and to James.
James thought it was the time to finally ask the question he’d meant to ask before: What was going on here?
But he felt content and more than sated, and with the warmth of the blanket over him and Sirius and Remus on either side, he found himself unable to keep his eyes open anymore.
Whatever conversation needed to be had, it could wait until tomorrow, he knew.
James knew he didn’t really understand much of anything.
And he found that, in that moment, he didn’t mind at all.