telegraph ave [the only one i know is you]

“You’re right, this film’s overrated.” Sirius’ voice called out from the living the room.

Wiping his hands on a towel in the kitchen, James watched Sirius eject Pulp Fiction, the television screen blanking. It had been so long since the two of them had been alone like this in the flat, even for something as simple as lunch. The melancholy of the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. He could just feel it, feel time changing everything. Once, he had thought time could change everything but the two of them. “I know. You can pick another if you’d like.”

“Think we should go for this one.”

James glanced at the DVD Sirius was holding up in his delicate ringed fingers. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. “Fuck’s sake, Sirius. Didn’t know you were in a tragedy type of mood today.”

Sirius sighed, abandoning the stack of DVDs altogether as he flopped onto the sofa, feet hanging over the side. “Yeah, well. I don’t know. Life feels quite tragic lately.”

James put their bowls down on the coffee table – soup with noodles, at Sirius’ request. “You can’t mean that.”

“Maybe I do.” Sirius frowned, looking dead into his eyes but still feeling distant.

James wished he could tell him. Sit there and tell him everything, all the thoughts in his head that turned into dogs and tore his mind apart. Constantly worried a single word or look would give him away, James felt himself withdrawing a little more each time they saw each other. He had always thought it’d be easier to have a bit of Sirius, even if it was just a fraction, than to have nothing at all, but he wasn’t sure if that was true anymore.

“Maybe I just need a change of scenery or something, I don’t know. I suppose that trip will be good.”

“Trip?” James felt his mouth go dry. “You didn’t tell me you were going on a trip.”

“I didn’t? I thought I did.” Sirius’ brows furrowed. He looked away, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Yeah. Rob and I. He wanted to do America this summer, like a road trip. Vegas, Los Angeles, you know.”

James didn’t tell Sirius America was far, and he didn’t tell him he wanted his prick of a boyfriend gone, but he couldn’t say nothing. And he couldn’t stand the apologetic look Sirius was giving him, already opening his mouth to spin some half-baked story. “I thought,” he attempted, trying to keep his voice steady. “Weren’t we…well, didn’t we plan-”

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry,” Sirius pleaded, straightening in his seat. “I know you wanted to go to Italy again this summer, the two of us. It’s just that he booked everything before even asking, and I feel bad, I can’t just tell him…look, I’m sorry, James.”

“It’s alright.” James couldn’t recognize his own voice. 

“I swear, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you angry?”

“No.” At the moment, James wasn’t anything. If he let himself feel anything, he’d go insane.

It wasn't that Sirius was going on holiday with Rob. It wasn't that he and James had already planned a summer holiday. It was that it was only a matter of time before James became nothing at all to him; an afterthought, just my childhood best friend. James wondered how long this process had been in motion, and how long they had to go. 

Sirius changed the topic, which he was thankful for. He did pick another DVD, some nineties comedy James occasionally paid attention to. There was something heavy and tense between them, and he couldn’t bear it; he let his mind go somewhere else.

As the film ended, Sirius cleared his throat, absently fixing his clothes as he rose up. “Right. I know it’s a bit early, but I said I’d meet him for dinner.”

James’ heart deflated. It hurt, physically. He had never experienced that until Sirius. “You’re not staying?”

There was silence, and no typical witty quip from Sirius. He absolutely hated it. Everything was wrong. Someone had taken control of his life, their story, and written the ending all wrong. Or maybe this was how it was always supposed to be.  

“Sirius. I called off work tonight.” For you – the unsaid part.

Amidst more mumbled apologies, James let his mind drift away again. There was nothing he could do to stop Sirius from slipping through his fingers like water. Sirius wasn’t his, someone like him could never be possessed, but god did acknowledging it hurt. It was a dull, aching pain he thought he had learned to live with.