“FUCK.”
The toe of James’s shoe struck the dirt as he screamed, sending clumps of soil flying into the air and rocks skittering into the darkened woods. Sirius threw his head back and laughed maniacally as James stumbled backwards from the impact, the alcohol inhibiting his movements. “What the hell was that, mate?” Sirius’s eyes flashed and his grin widened almost hideously, like his face was going to split in two. James wondered how he’d gotten to look that insane. Maybe it was how the darkened trees threw their shadows over his face. Or maybe the alcohol brought it out of him somehow. He was too drunk. They both were. Which is why, not five minutes before, James had brought up the brilliant idea of attempting to walk it off. Sirius had agreed, and so they had left the company of the tents, the dying fire, and their sleeping friends. They’d ended up in the woods, and eventually James had started talking about Lily. Again. He hadn’t really realized he’d done it. It always got back around to her, in the end, and he hated it. He’d been trying so hard and couldn’t move on, and that’s precisely what he’d been telling Sirius before he’d taken his frustrations out on the dirt. “Fuck,” he muttered as he brushed the dirt off his shoe. He overestimated his balancing skills, and ended up sitting on the ground, running his hand through his hair angrily, glaring as Sirius laughed at him, leaned against a tree as he tried to catch his breath.
“Oh hush. You can't make fun of me ‘bout the Evans thing, s’not like you understand. You’ve ne’er wanted to snog someone your entire life.” James grouched, slurring his words. Sirius snorted and raised his eyebrows. “That’s not true.” He said it like a joke, his tone light but sincere and his enunciation free from the firewhiskey’s touch. James raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? Who d’you wanna snog, then, hmm?” His challenge hung in silence for a moment. He hoped Sirius would tell him. He wanted to know. Plus, maybe he could focus on Sirius’s romantic mishaps instead of his own. Sirius took a deep, shuddering breath. James looked over at him, concerned. When he spoke, his voice was heavier than James had ever heard it. “Do you… ever feel like you know something bad about yourself, like, something that would make everyone hate you?” He pulled his legs up to his chest, hugging his knees as he purposely avoided James’s stare. James furrowed his brow. “No,” he said bluntly, “but I’m never going to hate you, idiot.” And of course he wouldn’t. Sirius was his brother, his best friend. “Couldn’t hate you if I tried.” He grinned goofily at Sirius, who just stared back with a pained expression on his face. A flash of concern crossed James’s eyes, and he crawled awkwardly over the dirt so he was sitting directly next to Sirius. Sirius sighed and shook his head. “Screw it. Um.” He closed his eyes. James raised an eyebrow. Everything was silent for a minute, like the very earth was holding its breath, waiting for Sirius’s confession.
“Moony.” He whispered, the words shattering the night. “I wanna snog Moony. Remus. Have for a while now.” He stared into the night, like he was entranced by something in the trees. James, however, had sobered up immediately. “What.” Not a question, but a statement. “I mean,” he swallowed, “really? You- you’re really, uh, gay, or sumthin’?” Sirius finally looked at him, his mouth quirked up at the ends. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am. Gay or something.” He said the last part a bit quieter, like it was sacred. Only for them. “Ok. I mean, I don’t care, or nothin’, an’ anyone who does issa tosser. Right.” James’ drunken mind hadn’t the faintest idea of how to console Sirius, but apparently he was doing a fine job as Sirius was smiling now, a real one. “Thanks,” he murmured. “I thought you’d take it poorly. Call me a faggot or something.” He let his head loll back, the moonlight defining his jawline and cheekbones. James reckoned Remus was quite lucky. “‘Course not, mate. An’ if anyone calls you that, you beat the SHIT outta em.” He swung a fist feebly, and Sirius laughed. James shook his head, lightly pushing Sirius’s shoulder. “Nah, I mean it though. Ok? Promise me you won’t let people do that shit to you.” Sirius looked at him, finally, and nodded, solemnly. “I won’t. Thanks, Prongs. You’re- well. I love you, like in a non-Remus way.” He frowned slightly after this, but James burst out laughing. “Non-Remus way! Bleeding ‘ell, Black, I love you too. In a non-Lily way.” He looked over at Sirius, and they smiled at each other. James stood up, and pulled Sirius to his feet. “C’mon. Let’s go back to the camp, eh? I’m exhausted, but trust me, mate, tomorrow we’re gonna have a serious conversation about how to get Moony to snog you. Tomorrow. Or eventually. I dunno.” Sirius stared at him with his eyebrows raised, a wicked grin on his face. “Oh, don’t worry about that, Potter, I think I'll manage. Besides, every conversation I have is a serious conversation.” He smirked, then took off running towards camp. James chased him, yelling “You WANKER!”, but Sirius barely heard him. He was more focused on the sensation of the breeze in his hair and on his skin, the alcohol humming in his veins. Sirius felt freer than he ever had been. Not just felt, he realized. Was. He had been so worried, and for what? His terrible secret was nowhere near as bad as he thought. James didn’t hate him. Never would. He collapsed on one of the logs they’d dragged around the campfire, and his eyes flickered to the tent where Remus was sleeping. He felt James sit down next to him.
“Fuck secrets.” Sirius whispered. “Yeah. Fuck ‘em.” James said, solemnly.