Of Sigmas and Stags

The next few days were tense. The five boys still had to go on with training, even though Banjo had just died. They had a schedule, and that was what they had to stick to. 

The Sigma trainees only had a month to train and even though Jame, Banjo, and Frank had been sorted into the Sigma Faction, they didn’t get any extra time to train. It was a waste of resources. There had to be at least five pups for training to commence in any faction, but usually those pups are trained every year and graduate right before the next group. They got more time, but there were more of them. The Sigmas had smaller numbers and higher standards. It was important that these trainees were gone quickly.

So, they continued, trudging forward. 

Day Two - The Day After Banjo’s Death

Siriussy woke up the next day after a restless night of sleep. How could anyone live with themselves after they had killed? He certainly couldn’t. 

But no, he had to stick around for Jame’s sake. He would have to be there to assure they were the two trainees chosen to become Sigmas. Nothing could stop him.

Well… except maybe Jame himself.

Siriussy walked down to breakfast cautiously. He couldn’t trust that the other trainees wouldn’t hold some sort of vendetta against him, even though none of them (minus Jame) seemed to like Banjo. But pups never like competition and now was no exception.

“Oi! Black!” A voice rang out from across the silent dining hall as Siriussy entered. He had planned on laying low for a while, maybe eating his meals alone, but apparently, Roman Rotherthighs had other ideas for him.

“Over here!” The boy called again, beckoning Siriussy with his hand. He had no choice. Either way, he’d made enemies, at least it wasn’t with Roman and Frank.

Siriussy slid into the chair beside Frank, attempting to conceal his face from Snarp, who was smirking from his spot in the corner (A/N: Snarp is all alone, like the loser he is), but it was pointless. Everyone knew everyone. That was the problem with there only being six trainees. There was no staying hidden.

“I just wanted to say that yesterday totally does not affect how we view you, we understand that it was a complete accident and that you regret it. I mean, how would you even know?” Roman grinned at Siriussy, his sharp canines glinting in the warm sunlight streaming through the windows. 

Siriussy nodded silently, picking at some toast he’d added to his empty plate. At least he hadn’t made enemies with the entire group. There was Frank and Roman, and hopefully Jame? Siriussy had to stop himself from scoffing at that thought. Of course Jame would never forgive him! He’d just shot his boyfriend!

But no matter, he’d just have to make it up to him in some way. 

So that’s what he attempted to do… every day that week… in every lesson.

First Lesson Since Banjo’s Death - Day Two

“Alright boys, I know this is your first lesson since Banjo’s untimely death, but I expect full focus today,” A stern-looking woman began. Her name was Professor McGoogle, the secret code professor. “We are learning how to read Morse code, as this is extremely useful in a position of power within the Sigma government. The Alpha Military will have to send messages in this age-old code and Sigmas are expected to be able to decode it.”

There were some murmurs around the room, but everyone seemed calm. At least this time no one could die.

“Alright, pair up! I want to see you sending messages back and forth and decoding them with your booklets. The group with the highest accuracy wins.”

Siriussy looked around. Frank and Roman were already paired off. Okay then, he thought, turning to Jame, who was sitting in the back of the room without a partner. I’ll try talking to him sooner rather than later.

So, he steeled himself and walked straight up to the boy. “Can I be your partner?”

Jame didn’t even glance up. He continued flipping through his booklet lethargically. 

“Jame?” Siriussy tried again. Jame, once again, did not look up or even acknowledge the boy’s presence. 

“Hey, Snarp?” Jame called to the grease-ball in the corner. He looked up, surprised. “Wanna pair up?”

Siriussy stared at the boy with his mouth agape as Snarp made his way over, plopping down right where Siriussy should’ve been sitting.

Alright, Potter. If that’s how it was going to be.

Second Lesson Since Banjo’s Death - Day Three

On day three, the boys had a combat class with one Professor Ferox, who was right fit and awfully charming. Siriussy could tell Jame was distracted when the man had asked to demonstrate on him and he was immediately pinned to the ground. Or maybe he wasn’t distracted and was just awfully smart. Either way, Siriussy was hoping for a chance. 

“Now boys, I am aware that there are five of you, so one person will have to pair up with me, but pair up now and we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Ferox crooned in his jazz musician voice. (A/N: Jazz musicians don’t exist in this because [I like jazz] jazz is inferior, but just so you understand how smexy his voice was :3) 

Now was Siriussy’s chance! All he had to do was whisk Jame away, pin him to the floor, and just talk to him! It was foolproof. 

So, once again, he steeled himself and walked up to Jame—

“Alright boys, Jame has offered to be my partner so you all may stay with your friends. What a kind offer!”

God damn it.

“But don’t fear, young Jame! We shall be doing a bracket. The best two fighters will compete at the end of the day, so you won’t be stuck with me,” Ferox chuckled, waving the rest of the group on. 

Okay, maybe Siriussy could talk to Jame during the bracket? Was he good enough to make it to a match against him? Might as well try, Siriussy supposed.

So, that was how he found himself in combat with Snerverus Snarp. 

Siriussy had one knee digging into the boy’s groyne and his hands pinning down Snarp’s arms. Snivellus was squirming in his grasp, but Siriussy was confident that there was nothing he could do to free himself in time. He was so close.

Three…

Two…

One…

And he had won his round. 

Siriussy released a deep exhale, climbing off of Snarp. He offered a hand to the defeated boy, but he was brushed off, as Snarp angrily stomped off. 

Siriussy’s next round would be against Roman Rotherthighs, who surprisingly defeated Frank. It was probably partially due to the fact that Frank was a pacifist, but Siriussy didn’t doubt that those toned thighs were strong and ready to choke him out. 

Siriussy took a deep breath and a sip of water as Jame and Ferox fought, Jame easily overpowering the man, who was, admittedly, not trying. 

That meant whoever won in this next round would go against Jame. It had to be Siriussy. He had to talk to Jame in any way possible.

So, going into his match with Roman Rotherthighs, he decided to do a little… seducing.

“Good luck, Roman,” Siriussy purred, not breaking eye contact. He didn’t think anyone could hear them as the ring was enclosed, so he could be as dirty as humanly possible if he didn’t move his mouth much.

“Same to you,” Roman replied, not catching on. Fine then. Siriussy would have to be more physical.

The whistle blew and Siriussy immediately dove for Roman’s feet, taking the boy by surprise and causing him to fall over. This was going exactly how Siriussy had hoped. He quickly crawled over to Roman’s torso, straddling it while taking the boy’s forearms and pinning them above his head. 

Roman struggled, kicking up at Siriussy’s chest and nearly knocking him off. But Siriussy had a plan. He would win this round. 

Siriussy leaned in close, their noses nearly brushing. “You’re going to let me win.”

“Oh am I?” Roman raised an eyebrow, his struggling seeming to cease for a minute to mock Siriussy’s lame attempts at winning.

 “If you do, I’ll reward you later. Meet me in the empty supply closet in C-Block after class.” Siriussy pressed his body even harder down onto Roman, who had stopped struggling completely.

(A/N: They are both sixteen. The older trainees are seventeen. Everything about this fic is legal, thank you.)

The boy’s eyes widened, but a crooked smile played on his lips. “Yes sir.”

“Perfect.”

Three…

Two…

One…

He had won. He now had to give Roman a blowjob after class, but he had won nonetheless.

Now he could get Jame alone.

It happened barely a millisecond after the whistle had blown. He was pinned to the ground by Jame Potter and then the match was over and he hadn’t gotten to speak to him.

“Jame, wait!” Siriussy called after the boy who had practically leapt off of him after the match and was now power-walking to the dorms. Siriussy couldn’t follow him there, he had to “reward” Roman, so he was praying that the boy would stop for him.

“Jame!” Siriussy called again following him out into the hallway, but he was stopped by a hand on his arm. 

“Where d’you think you’re going? C-Block?” Roman smirked.

“C’mon, Roman. Let’s go,” Siriussy sighed, watching as Jame disappeared in the opposite direction.

Another day, he supposed.

Third Lesson Since Banjo’s Death - Day Four

It had been three days since Jame had spoken to Siriussy and he was beginning to feel it. He didn’t know why it hurt him so much, but Siriussy just wished that Jame would say something to him. Even if it was yelling, anything was better than silence.

Siriussy was never one for silence, his mother sure as hell knew that, so he never understood when people would use the silent treatment rather than just yelling all their feelings out. He hoped Jame would stop it soon.

But in the meantime, Siriussy had his lessons to distract him. Today was a lesson on how to detect poison in food before you become a victim of it, taught by one Professor Spurt. 

“Today we are going to be working on recognising poisons by smell and looks. They will be hidden in various foods on this table before us. Whoever is most accurate in guessing which dishes are poisoned, wins,” Professor Spurt explained, gesturing to the table decked out with at least thirty different meals to evaluate. 

They were in the Great Sigma Dining Hall— or the Great Hall— for class today. There was no partner work today, so Siriussy had a very slim chance of getting Jame to even look at him. He understood that he had shot Jame’s boyfriend, but seriously, it was an accident! Jame could be mad and hurt, but couldn’t he at least take it out on Siriussy rather than ignoring him completely? For some reason, the only person Siriussy wanted to talk to was the only person at the Sigma School who refused to even give him a second glance. Even Snarp spoke to Siriussy more than Jame did nowadays. 

What could he do to make Jame talk to him? 

Ah, Siriussy thought, I know.

So, that’s where his most awful, dirtiest, ickiest, least scrumdiddlyumptious, crunchiest idea, ever, came from. Siriussy was a goddamn idiot, as you’ve probably picked up by now, and he was willing to do anything to get Jame’s attention because he was sick of being ignored—it was the childhood trauma. 

Of course, there was only one thing Sirussy could come up with using his dumb-bitch brain and that happened to involve poison. It also involved dying, but only temporarily. 

So, you see, Siriussy happened to know that in order to work in the Infirmary, you were required, by Sigma law, to take a course in resuscitation methods. That meant Jame was certified in CPR (A/N: Just like ya girl <3) and would have to give Siriussy mouth-to-mouth if his heart stopped. (A/N: If you know anything about CPR, you know that that is not at all true, seeing as though mouth-to-mouth isn’t always necessary. If my memory serves me right, mouth-to-mouth is used more for drowning-related deaths, but Siriussy is an idiot, so ignore this. Also he wants to be kissed, subconsciously.)

It was foolproof! All Siriussy had to do was discreetly consume the correct poison. He wasn’t quite using the poison detection skills he had just learnt correctly, but at least he was detecting the poison!

Now, to begin, he had to go first and he had to be careful not to let Spurt notice him casually licking poison off his finger. 

“Any volunteers to go fir—” And before the woman could even finish her question, Siriussy had bolted straight up and volunteered himself as tribute. “Excellent, Siriussy!” 

Off he went, darting right to the table and giving himself barely any time to think about what he was about to do. He started cataloguing the foods out loud, passing by unpoisoned and non-lethal dishes with a simple: That’s safe, or, that one won’t kill you.

Spurt looked highly impressed, which Siriussy only gave himself a second to appreciate. He had to hurry up and find the deadly food. 

Siriussy didn’t know why he was rushing, but something in him was counting down as if he’d never be able to interact with Jame again if he didn’t intentionally poison himself in the next twenty seconds. 

“This one… this one’s nightlock,” Siriussy speculated, picking up a small berry and rolling it around between his pointer finger and thumb. He crushed it slightly, allowing the dark juices to roll down his thumb. This would kill him for sure. 

“Very good, Siriussy,” Spurt praised, looking down to jot something down on her paper. Siriussy took that chance to shove the poison berry into his mouth and chew like a chipmunk, swallowing faster than you could say “I volunteer as tribute.”

The poison seemed to kick in quickly, Siriussy’s vision blurring and his mouth becoming dry. He teetered over to the next dish, pretending to be a-okay so Spurt didn’t suspect him of any funny business. If Siriussy was lucky, she’d just suspect an overexposure to poisonous fumes. 

The poisoned boy was evaluating a minced pie in one second, his head spinning and his speech slurred, and in the next he was on the floor, head bleeding from impact with the corner of a table. 

Everything was going according to plan.