Fuel the pyre of your enemies

by goldenlionprince

Summary:

“Your father,” James starts. The ruby edge dancing on the surface of the whiskey is fascinating. It's almost the colour of fresh blood. “That wasn't a hunting accident.”

**
how better to say "I love you" than with murder?

Notes:

written for the Prongsfoot Week 2025 - Day 4 prompt "Confessions"

as I keep saying, there are different things one can confess 😂 enjoy!

James spins the glass slowly between his fingers, watching the firewhiskey swirl around within it. The amber liquid sparkles and glows, illuminated by the low light of the fireplace. It brings out the golden tones even more. “There is something I need to tell you.”

Sirius in the chair besides his own hums, the only sign that he's listening.

“Your father,” James starts. The ruby edge dancing on the surface of the whiskey is fascinating. It's almost the colour of fresh blood. “That wasn't a hunting accident.”

Silence chases his words, only interrupted by the crackling of the fire.

There is the soft creak of leather when Sirius finally moves from his chair. James takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He has to finish this, say it before Sirius has any chance to leave. “It was me.”

There is no sound of the door, no creaking of floorboards that would tell James of Sirius moving away from him, seeking distance. Instead, cool fingers brush along his jawline, tilting James' chin up slightly, tenderly.

James opens his eyes and meets grey ones, burning like the firewhiskey in his glass, just in a different colour. “I know,” Sirius says, not looking away from James even for a second, his fingers strong and sure on James' jaw, anchoring him. “I know,” he says again as he leans down and then his lips are on James'.

James gasps into the kiss, breathing in an absolution he didn't know he needed from the only one he'll ever worship, the only saint he'll ever pray to. The glass slips form his fingers, tumbling down onto the floor. Whiskey spills and soaks into the expensive carpet, but neither of them cares.

Sirius' fingers bury in James' hair, tugging deliciously, as James' hands grab his hips, pulling him in, pulling him down. Sirius' knees slide onto the leather of James' seat as he straddles his lap, caging James in the best way possible. The kiss never breaks, not even for a moment, firewhiskey hot in James' stomach as his fingers meet skin.

There is no regret in James now. There never was, not for Orion. There was only fear that Sirius might not understand why he had to do it, that Sirius might see him as a monster.

He should have known better.

After all, no one has ever understood him like Sirius, understood the way he needs to protect what's his. He would see the whole world burn if it would keep Sirius safe.

And if that makes him a monster, so be it.

Notes:

Come find me on tumblr for more fun stories and snippets :)