Fog flooded James’ mind as he stood in the corner of the common room. He often found himself in this exact position, an onlooker. He finds safety in it, a comfort in a way. Simply watching stories unfold before his eyes. Watching friendships blossom, watching couples share secret touches, passing flames between one another.
He felt similar flames fill his throat as he took a sip of his drink. Something Sirius poured, something strong it seems. James spluttered slightly, coughing as he stomachs the new sensation.
“Can’t stomach alcohol, huh Potter?”
James jumped at the sudden voice appearing at his side. He turned to be met with a mischievous grin paired with a face glowing with the warmth of adrenaline and alcohol.
“I can handle it just fine, Crouch.” James put emphasis on the surname, causing the other to raise his eyebrows and hands in defence.
James rolled his eyes, turning his focus back to the party.
“Prove it, then.”
James sighed, turning his gaze back towards Barty once again. The other had a challenge behind the fire in his eyes, it was like fuel to the flames within James. Tempting. He raised an eyebrow in questioning, never breaking away from the eye contact that Barty was drawing him in to. He couldn’t break it if he tried. The Slytherin simply walked away, leaving James feeling very confused. Confused and longing for that fire to return.
Barty turned, nodding his head towards the drinks table, crooking a finger to draw James in. And it worked. James followed, and followed and followed and followed. Maybe it’s the drinks in his system, maybe it’s the fogged state of mind he can’t escape, maybe it’s the atmosphere of the party. But he follows until they’re stood side by side.
James watches Barty’s hands as he pours a shot of fire whiskey for each of them, watches them move swiftly and delicately. The perfect combination of delicate and demanding, the rings adorning his fingers adding the perfect finishing touch. A silver snake, a skull with green gems in the eye sockets, a simple band with a knife engraved.
“See something you like, hm?”
James snaps his eyes up, realising that he was staring. And now he’s staring again. At the eyeliner around Barty’s eyes, the way his hair is tousled, the warm flush in his cheeks, the singular earring in the shape of a star on his left ear. The other cocked an eyebrow, smirking at James’ lack of response. He lifted the shot glass slightly, nodding towards it.
Rather than working out how to vocalise a response, James grabbed the shot from Barty’s grasp, raising it to his lips.
“Ah-ah-ah, on my count,” Barty interrupted his movements, placing his hand over James’,
Oh, how the fog only grows. Grows, and spreads, and blinds. Blinds his surroundings until all he can see is eyeliner and dark hair and rings and green, green, green. All he is capable of doing is nodding, feeling the warmth fill his body before even taking the shot. Barty’s countdown is the only thing he follows, taking the shot in sync with him.
Flames lick at both of their insides, tinting them red and orange and every shade in between.
James shuts his eyes, shaking his head as the burn cascades down his throat. The only thing that pulls him away from the reaction is a laugh. A laugh that is filled with more fire than any alcohol, one more addictive, more tempting. Upon opening his eyes, he is met with Barty’s head thrown back in laughter. Laughter driven from pure happiness and adrenaline.
“Maybe I underestimated you, Potter.”
“It’s James, everyone calls me James.”
God how he wants him to call him James.
“I’m not everyone.” Barty’s response is full of challenge, and James can feel his breath on him as the other takes a step closer. He feels those eyes running down his face and he is entirely frozen. Frozen despite how unbelievably warm he is.
“What makes you so different, Crouch?”
James can see the shock in Barty’s face as he returns the challenge. Only a moment, before the smirk on those lips grows. Before James feels a hand at his chin. Just two fingers, yet James feels as though he is grasping at his very being. Before his chin is tilted up, before he feels the pull that is begging him to move closer. Barty lets him. He lets him until their breath intertwines, until the flames from each of their lips are teasing at one another.
“I’m the only one who makes you like this.”
Then that warmth is gone. And James is left stood alone, his eyes almost closed. His cheeks flushed, his heart beating a million beats per second. He is forced out of his trance, frantically scanning the room. He's gone, just like that. How the fuck did he just disappear? James lets out a sigh, heading in the direction of some of his friends.
“Look, I’m just saying, if you had a good taste in music, you’d know that ABBA has the best songs to ever exist.”
“No! Have you ever listened to David Bowie? T.Rex? Queen?”
Lily and Sirius were in the middle of a heated debate, Sirius rising from the sofa they were sat on to point accusingly at the other. Marlene was sat on one side of Lily, her head thrown back in laughter, while Mary on the other side shook her head at the pair's argument. Remus was tugging at Sirius’ shirt lightly, chuckling slightly. James sat himself on the arm of the sofa Sirius and Remus were sharing.
“James! Oh, Prongs, my lord and saviour. Tell her how wrong she is.”
James held his hands up defensively,
“Okay, no, do not drag me into this.”
Sirius threw her hands up, falling back onto the sofa and into Remus’ open arms.
Remus laughed once more, before turning to James and asking,
“Where have you been, Prongs? I haven’t seen you much tonight.”
James felt the heat rising in his cheeks once more, and suddenly his drink was the most interesting thing in the world. Marlene seemed to take interest in this, leaning forward in her seat and instantly berating James with questions, pushing the others to do the same.
James stumbled his way through excuses, which clearly nobody believed.
“I just, you know I like to stand to the side at parties. You were all just distracted, I've been stood over there for a while.” He vaguely gestured to the corner where he was stood before.
“Hmm, yeah okay, Jamie. I’ll let it slide for now,” Mary responded, placing an arm around Lily as she spoke.
“No, it’s true. I saw him there.”
Oh, that voice. That perfect balance between sharp and soft voice. James looked up to see Barty, Evan, Regulus, and Dorcas joining the group. Evan sat on an armchair, Regulus placing himself on the arm of it, and Dorcas moved to the floor in front of Marlene, leaning against her girlfriend's legs.
“And why should I believe you, Barty?” Marlene questioned, subconsciously fiddling with Dorcas’ curls as she spoke.
“Believe what you want, Marlene, but it’s true.”
So, he’ll say Marlene’s name.
Barty placed himself on the other arm of the chair Evan was sat in, the one closest to James.
“Hey, Potter. Long time no see,” He teased, flashing a wink in James’ direction.
Just one wink, and James can feel walls around him breaking down.
“Not long enough.” James muttered in response, taking a sip of whatever, the hell Sirius had poured for him.
Conversations picked up around the group, indistinctive chatter filling the space. Yet, James can’t focus on a single one. How can he when he can feel Barty’s stare on him, hear his voice, his laughter. How can he focus when his evening has been taken up by a person he never expected to pull such a reaction from him. What’s going on with him? Usually, James is an expert at flirting. At keeping his cool, at doing exactly what Barty is doing. Barty, who is now stood up.
“I’m gonna go dance.”
And with that, his back is turned to the group and he’s making his way to the very centre of the room. Right in the middle of everyone.
“I'm gonna go grab a drink, I’ll be right back,” James states, walking off before receiving a response.
From the drinks table, James can see the dancefloor perfectly. He can see through the smoke and flashing lights, right to the centre of it all. He can see Barty perfectly. Can see the way his hips move, the way he sways so delicately yet somehow all eyes are on him. All eyes are on him, but his eyes are on James. His eyes are staring directly at James, only James. Right at James as he moves to the rhythm of the music, sways his hips and turns and James feels as though he’s being drawn in by a siren.
And who is he to deny a siren?
He places his drink on the crowded table and makes his way through groups of people to reach him. Only him. And suddenly he is directly in front of him, and he is speechless. He feels as though a bonfire is at home in his throat, and all he can do is swallow down what could be words and try to extinguish it.
Barty is staring. Staring and moving closer, closer and closer until James can feel his chest on his. Until his arms are settled on James’ shoulders. Until James’ hands inch their way to his waist, and he starts moving in sync.
“Took you long enough, Potter.”
“Can’t you call me James?”
James is practically pleading at this point, waiting for his name to fall from Barty’s lips.
“Can’t you give me a reason, hm?” Barty replies, his tone cocky and his eyes filled with wonder. Wonder and challenge and he’s almost daring James to do something. Anything. Yet James is frozen. Frozen under his gaze, his hold, the movement of his hips against his hands.
“I don’t know what’s going on with me, I’m usually better at this with everyone else.”
And there’s the confession. The confession that James wants them to be a this. And Barty can tell. He can tell, and he smiles. He doesn’t smirk or raise his eyebrows. He smiles. He smiles and James feels the ground cave in and his grasp on the others waist is the only thing keeping him upright. He smiles, and James understands warmth and sunsets and why people love and adore the colour green.
He leans closer and James is frozen. It seems to be a recurring theme of the night.
“I told you,” and he is centimetres away and James can’t breathe, “I’m not everyone else.”
James feels his knees finally buckle as Barty’s lips are on his. He wraps his arms around Barty’s waist, pulling him close and using him as an anchor. Because James has never felt so euphoric in his life. Barty is kissing him and suddenly every problem in his life has been extinguished. Everyone else disappears, because Barty is kissing him. Barty’s hands are in his hair, his tongue is running along his bottom lip, he’s pulling James impossibly closer.
The music is muffled, the fog in James’ mind clears for just a moment. And all he can think of is Barty. Barty’s lips, Barty’s waist, Barty’s hands, everything about him. James feels his lip being bitten and he gasps. He gasps right into Barty’s mouth and feels the other smile against his lips. He hears a soft laugh and everything in the world is right.
Then, he’s being pulled out of euphoria. Barty is pulling away and James can’t help but chase him. Barty chuckles again, impossibly soft and God James feels like he’s in heaven.
“Slow down, James. I’m not going anywhere.”
His eyes are open in an instant.
James James James James James James James James James.
“You called me James.”
“Is that okay?”
“Please never stop.”
James is breathless. He is breathless and can’t keep himself from smiling. He doesn’t notice his friends staring in shock, he doesn’t notice Sirius repeatedly hitting Remus’ arm, he doesn’t notice the shared look between Regulus and Evan, a look that says that something finally happened after such a long wait.
He notices nothing but Barty, and Barty notices nothing but James. They are entirely enraptured in each other, flames intertwining until they are spreading uncontrollably. They are lost and lost and so unbelievably safe and found. James kisses him again, and he cannot stop thinking of how many times he can do this in the future. And when Barty smiles against his lips, James gets an idea of just how many.