James Potter had always considered himself an expert at hiding his emotions. He had to be. As a Gryffindor, with the spotlight on him and the weight of being the “hero” of every prank and mischief, he couldn’t afford to let his guard down too often. He liked to think he was good at this—keeping his thoughts hidden behind a confident grin, always the first to crack a joke, never letting anyone see the quieter parts of himself.
But there was one person who always made it impossible for James to hide anything.
Sirius Black.
James never thought he would be one to develop a secret crush on his best friend. It was ridiculous, right? Sirius had been his closest mate since their first year. They’d been through everything together—fighting, laughing, cheering on the Quidditch pitch. But lately, James had started to notice how *good* Sirius looked, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to pretend like he wasn’t utterly captivated by him.
He tried to brush it off at first—he was a Gryffindor, after all. He was brave, wasn’t he? But bravery wasn’t the same as being able to admit to himself that his feelings for Sirius were no longer confined to friendship. No, this was something deeper, something entirely different.
And it made him feel exposed.
It started in little ways. The way Sirius’s hair always looked just a bit too perfect, even when he’d just woken up. The way his smile lit up the room, even when he was just making fun of James’s terrible handwriting. The way he would lean against a wall, casually flicking his wand, with that roguish glint in his eyes that made James’s heart stutter in his chest.
James found himself staring more and more these days. It was almost a compulsion—like he couldn’t help it. The way Sirius’s fingers grazed his wand when he was practicing spells, the easy grace with which he moved across a room, the way his laughter seemed to fill the air like music. It was maddening, how much he liked to watch him.
It happened most often when they were in the common room together. James would be pretending to read a book or messing around with his broomstick, but his attention was always drawn back to Sirius, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t think Sirius noticed. He’d always catch James with that same playful smirk, but it wasn’t as though he knew the true reason why James couldn’t stop watching him.
One night, it was particularly bad.
The common room was quiet, the crackling fire the only sound as the last few students drifted off to bed. James had no intention of going to sleep anytime soon—he had a test the next day he hadn’t quite studied for, and he was hoping that if he kept his eyes on his notes long enough, maybe he could fool himself into believing he was actually learning something.
But, of course, that didn’t work. Not when Sirius was in the room.
Sirius was sprawled on the couch, flipping through a Quidditch magazine, his legs stretched out in front of him. The way his shirt clung to his chest as he leaned back, the way his knee bounced lightly with his restless energy—it was all too much for James. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing up, his eyes following every movement.
It was just that Sirius had this way of moving that James couldn’t take his eyes off of. He was effortlessly cool, always seeming to glide through life with this natural confidence that made everyone else look clumsy in comparison. And James? James felt every inch the fool, sitting there and staring, trying to pretend that he wasn’t completely losing his mind.
Sirius must have felt James’s gaze because, after a while, he glanced up from his magazine, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "What’s got your attention, Prongs?" he teased, his voice light, but the look in his eyes sharper than usual.
James’s stomach dropped. He quickly jerked his head back down to his notes, pretending to focus on the words in front of him. "Nothing," he muttered, hoping his voice didn’t betray how flustered he felt. "Just... studying."
"Studying?" Sirius snorted, clearly not buying it. "You’ve been staring at that page for ten minutes and haven’t written a single thing. Come on, mate, what are you really doing?"
James’s face burned. "Nothing," he repeated, more forcefully this time. "Just thinking."
Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the way James was acting, but instead of pressing further, he just shook his head with a laugh. "Alright, Prongs. Whatever you say."
The rest of the evening passed in an odd sort of silence. James couldn’t help himself, though. Every time he thought he could focus, his eyes would drift back to Sirius—his shoulders, the way he tilted his head when he laughed, how his eyes sparkled when he caught James’s gaze for just a second too long. It was like a magnet pulling him in.
At one point, Sirius got up and walked over to the window, looking out at the darkening grounds. The way he moved—graceful, like he was always aware of his surroundings—drove James crazy. There was something so effortlessly confident about it.
"Prongs," Sirius’s voice broke through his thoughts. "You gonna keep pretending you’re not watching me, or are you going to tell me what’s actually going on in that overactive brain of yours?"
James’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t have the foggiest idea how to respond to that, so instead, he just looked at the floor, his hands gripping the edge of his notes harder than necessary. "I’m not—" he started, then stopped himself. His voice was shaking slightly, and he didn’t want Sirius to notice. "I mean, I’m not watching you," he finished lamely, hoping it would end there.
Sirius gave him that half-smile, the one that made James’s chest feel too tight. "You sure about that?" he asked, taking a step closer. "You’ve been staring at me for the better part of an hour. Kinda hard to miss, mate."
James could feel the heat rising in his face, his stomach twisting into knots. "I—" He fumbled for words, but nothing seemed right. How could he possibly explain this to Sirius? How could he admit that the reason he couldn’t stop watching him was because he wanted to be closer to him? Because every moment spent in his presence left him wanting more?
Sirius took a step closer, his eyes narrowing with that familiar mischief. "It’s alright, James. I’m not going to bite." He grinned, all teasing charm. "But you know, if you’ve got something to say, I’m all ears."
James’s breath hitched. He didn’t know how to say what he was feeling. So, instead, he did something reckless. Something he would likely regret.
Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "I just—You’re distracting, okay?"
Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Distracting? How?"
James couldn’t hold back anymore. He stood up abruptly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I can’t help it, alright? Every time I see you, I just—I can’t stop looking. I don’t know what it is, but you—" He cut himself off, feeling his heart race as he realized how close they were now. "You drive me mad, Sirius. And I can’t stop watching you."
For a long, agonizing moment, Sirius just stood there, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smirk spread across his face. "So, what, you just sit there staring at me all the time?" he asked, his voice light, but there was a spark in his eyes that made James’s stomach flip.
James nodded, barely able to breathe, but he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. "Yeah, I do. I mean, you’re just—" He broke off, his throat tight. "It’s not just the way you look, Sirius. It’s the way you are."
Sirius took a slow step forward, his gaze locking with James’s, and for the first time in what felt like forever, James didn’t feel like he was pretending. "You really do like me, don’t you, Prongs?" Sirius murmured.
James’s breath caught in his throat. This was it, the moment where everything either fell apart or—
"Yeah," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I do."
Sirius’s smirk softened into something warmer, something more genuine. And before James could fully process it, Sirius was standing right in front of him, their faces just inches apart.
"Good," Sirius said quietly, "because I’ve been waiting for you to figure that out."
And then, without warning, Sirius closed the gap between them, his lips pressing against James’s with a quiet, tender force that sent James’s head spinning.