The Initial Disaster
James Potter was a fraud. From his name to his reputation. “The golden boy of the Potters“. What a load of bullshit. He wasn’t golden, he was blood red, torn apart and stitched together into a charming mess.
He knew how to weasel his way out of trouble and how to ride a broom, and that was the extent of his talent. Divination? slept through all the classes. Charms? didn’t care to study, or rather couldn’t. Same thing with DADA. The only reason he was even passing the classes was being good with his wand. And that, he didn’t even earn himself. Story of his life, aye? The nepo baby who had everything handed to him.
An arrogant prick who was now panicking when he was supposed to celebrate their graduation. ‘way to make a party for everyone all about yourself, dickhead.’
The cold water made his hand tingle as he held them under the faucet, calming him, although not enough. The beat of the music shook the ground beneath him. The lights in the dorm were far too much for his liking; but he couldn’t pull himself away from the sink to turn them off. His clothes were clinging onto him, sweat trickling down his back, leaving a wet, bothersome trail behind. The hair on his face was sticking to his forehead, his glasses constantly slipping down his nose; something that had been happening ever since he broke it on the field, proof of how incompetent he was at fixing things, namely himself.
The water ran and a soft knock came. “James? All right in there?”
***
Although he hated to admit it, Teddy Lupin had noticed James’ absence. That couldn’t be blamed on him, could it? James Sirius Potter owned every single room he was in. He demanded attention, admiration, perhaps even obsession and love.
And now that he was gone, the room felt empty, the crowd was lackluster, there wasn’t much to focus on. It was like taking away the sun and watching hell unfold on earth and anything before and beyond.
That was what James Sirius Potter was, the sun, and Teddy Lupin was starting to feel like Icarus himself. And for 3 minutes, as of now, he had been contemplating whether he should get too close; or in other less dramatic, more boring words, whether he should knock on his door.
***
James couldn’t decide whether to be happy about the intrusion or more panicked. This certainly wasn’t something he wanted to deal with by himself.
It also wasn’t something he wanted Teddy to see. The perfectly polished prince of the Gryffindors crying into the porcelain over spilled drinks. And that thought overpowered just how much he wanted, needed Teddy’s help.
‘Peachy.’ He tried to call back, he really did try to. Just like he tried in every single aspect of his life and failed spectacularly at all of them. His jaw was shut close, he couldn’t get it to open before the door opened.
The hand placed on his shoulder made him jerk away. He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t. He wasn’t trying to be malicious, everything was just too much. He tried to croak out a pathetic excuse of an apology before looking up at Teddy.
His expression was one of worry rather than hurt, and a sort of understanding James longed for desperately. He watched as Teddy’s features turned, his guard slipping, a sort of peace offering to James. The dull brown of his hair went back to its naturally unnatural azure, gray swirling in his right eye as the hazel gave way to his father’s blue.
“Breathe with me, yeah?” His hand waited patiently for James’, contradicting the abrupt approach he had taken at first.
He felt the thump of Teddy’s heart as their fingers laced over his sweater. “Deep breaths, Jamie.” He whispered.
With each rise and fall of Teddy’s chest, James’ breathing evened, less shallow than it had previously been, but his heart quickened, a new kind of panic, perhaps one of childish infatuation, blooming in his chest.
“Doing great, mate.” His fingers held back the hair on James’ forehead as the water ran in the sink, the light shone glaringly, the music played on as loud as before, his shirt stuck to him and his glasses almost completely slipped off of his face. And yet, drunk on Teddy’s cologne and their intertwined fingers, they were reduced to unimportant commotion. All that mattered was the odd looking boy with mismatched pupils staring back at him.
“I’ve never seen your eyes up close. They’re beautiful.” You’re beautiful.
Teddy’s mouth opened and closed and opened and closed, his head turning red before he could take back control. His breath mingled with James’, fire whiskey mixing with mint.
“What happened?” His voice was quieter, more breathless, cracking on the h.
“Nothing.” If he were to dodge the compliment, James would dodge the question. He was pretty good at it, being a quidditch player and all that jazz.
“James-“
Teddy’s lips were rougher than James had anticipated, chapped and harshly torn apart by their owner. His fingers dug into the back of James’ hand, still on his own chest, the other slightly pulling at the previously held back hair on his forehead. After 3 years of longing, doubt and desire, 3 years of watching him walk around, hand in hand with others, treating him as just another friend, he had finally kissed Edward Remus Lupin.
The door opened before either of them could comprehend what was happening.