telegraph ave [the only one i know is you]

James already knew the routine. He’d wake up, Sirius would be gone, and he’d be alone in the flat with his sad little morning coffee. How would they be coping with this, he wondered, would they pretend nothing had happened the night before or would nothing ever be the same again? He wasn’t certain which would be worse. They’d made it through this once before, sure, but last night had been different.

So, when Sirius woke him with a mug on his nightstand, he couldn’t say he was expecting it.

“Morning.”

Through his awful eyesight, and freshly opened eyes, he could sort of see Sirius hovering above him, hand outstretched. For a second, it seemed as though he was going to push his hair back from his face but thought better of it. James fumbled for his glasses; after putting them on he realized Sirius had taken a seat on the floor beneath him, knees drawn to his chest. Despite everything, he laughed.

“What are you doing? Come sit.” He gestured towards the rest of the bed, amused.

Sirius rose from the carpet and sat across from him, cross legged, with an embarrassed smile. It occurred to James that something as natural as the two of them sitting in bed together had never been so awkward; he got that familiar funny pang in his chest.

He cleared his throat. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah. Bit hungover, but you know,” said Sirius. His eyebrows were knitted together with worry, and James immediately knew what he was working himself up to.

“Look, Sirius,” he started wearily. “I can tell this is stressing you, what happened last night. We don’t have to talk about–”

“No, we have to. We have to or I’ll lose my mind.” Sirius ran a hand through his hair, averting his eyes.

James felt irritation rise, sitting up straighter against the headboard of the bed. “Well, what is there to really talk about, then? Good for you, you got rid of Rob. He never deserved you in the first place, by the way. I’d do anything for you, Sirius, but being a rebound is where I draw the fucking line.”

There were a few beats of unbearable silence, and James shifted his eyes to the wall behind Sirius, the bookcase, the desk. Anywhere but Sirius.

“You can’t honestly think that.” Sirius let out an incredulous laugh, more of a breath.

“Then what was it? Enlighten me.”

Sirius paused again, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “Wasn’t the first time we snogged, either. I know you remember.”

James flinched. He had really been hoping Sirius wouldn’t bring it up, but now that the elephant in the room was being gutted, might as well. “That was a dare, Sirius, a silly drunk spin the bottle with a dozen other people there. It didn’t mean anything to you the first time, so what would you have me believe the second time?”

Something shifted in Sirius’ expression, his eyes growing wilder. “Oh, really? It didn’t mean anything to me? It fucking sounds as though it didn’t mean anything to you.”

“Of course it did, you fucking—” James cut himself off before he could snap in earnest, taking a breath. “In any case. Last night. You were drunk.”

“I wasn’t drunk then.” Sirius’ voice was low, barely above a whisper.

James’ mouth went dry. What are you saying. He wanted to get the words out but couldn’t; it felt like an invisible hand around his throat.

“I wasn’t drunk,” Sirius repeated. “I…kissed you because I wanted to. And I got rid of Rob, mostly, because he said he didn't like how close I am with you. Wanted me to move out, see you less. It's not the only reason, but it really...well, it set me off. I fully lost it on him.”

“Don’t do this to me.” James heard his voice, more of a croak, as if he weren’t the one speaking. It couldn't be true, there was no way. His heart was hammering along at record speed.

“If I overstepped, I’m sorry, James, I’m so fucking sorry. But for a second, you looked at me like…” He trailed off, his voice breaking. “I don’t know. I suppose I just thought there was something there.”

“You can’t do this to me.” With all the courage he could muster, James met his eyes. “I’m not going to accept your pity snog just because I was there at the right time when you needed to shove your tongue down someone's throat after a breakup. Not when I’ve wanted you for this long.”

 “What?”

“For years, Sirius. I’ve been in love with you for years. I’ve followed you everywhere, to bloody Dublin. I don’t regret it, and I won’t let you feel sorry for me about it. But if you need a distraction after Rob, it can’t be me. That’s all.” He took a breath, taking in what he’d just done.

Well, there it was. No turning back.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Sirius’ voice was flat, and it made James’ head snap back up. “Either that, or you’re just really clueless.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You couldn’t tell me this three, five, eight years ago? We’ll be thirty in a few years, you fucking prick.”

James bristled, feeling that his attempt at valiant honesty was being undermined. “We were best mates, Sirius, what was I supposed to do? Completely obliterate our friendship by telling a teenage boy I had a big, gay crush on him? What would you have had me do?”

“Sixth year, James. I know those glasses do a lot of work, but you can’t actually be this blind.” Sirius buried his face into his palm with a groan.

Sixth year. The year after Sirius left his family and moved in with James'. Two years before their drunken spin the bottle kiss. James wracked his brain. Sixth year?

“Sixth year, the year I realized liked my best mate in a way other blokes generally don’t. The year I proceeded to make it painfully obvious.”

“No.” No, James refused to let this be the story.

Sirius resurfaced, looking tired as they met eyes. “But, you see, the best mate in question didn’t really react. So I dropped it.”

James let out a single, incredulous laugh. He looked at Sirius, and his mind swept him into a flurry of memories, of different Siriuses. Sirius at twelve, at sixteen, at twenty. He was overwhelmed with love, sorrow, protectiveness, for all of them. As for the current Sirius, the one in front of him – well, he would have torn his heart out of his chest then and there and handed it to him if he only asked.

Lost for words, he scrounged up what he could. “I wish you’d have told me.”

“I was telling you the only way I knew how.” The way Sirius was looking at him, eyes wide, gnawing on his lower lip; James wanted to kiss him senseless, kiss his worry away.

“So was I.”  

The silence was getting unbearable, then Sirius finally spoke again. “I miss you.”

“I’m here. I’ve always been right here.”

And there Sirius was, cradling James’ face again, tender and gentle. Holding him like something precious. James’ heart was threatening to break through his ribs, and this time it was him who bridged the gap between them.

This kiss was desperate and hungry, all the emotion of their lifetimes, more years spent together than apart. Love and frustration and lost time. Sirius pulling him close, one hand holding his head and the other pressing into his back, wasn’t enough – he needed to be consumed by him, absorbed into his very being. He never wanted to be anywhere else. It could be any bed, any flat, any city. As long as Sirius was there to hold him like this, keep him from splintering apart, it was home.

He was there, he always would be. He couldn't be anywhere else.