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They’re skipping stones on the lake, behind James’s backyard. For what’s probably the first time, there’s silence between them.
James keeps glancing at Sirius, waiting for him to say something, anything. Throw a joke, or ask about James’s progress with Evans only to laugh at him a second later, tell James how he wishes they could be with Remus right now because the full is in three days and Remus doesn’t deserve to be alone, complain about the Transfiguration essay they’ve been told to write over the summer. James would take anything.
But Sirius is quiet. Has been ever since he appeared at James’s doorstep yesterday night. He just sits there, picking random pebbles off the ground, throwing each one into the water, staring into nothingness, looking ready to either cry or run off any given minute. And for once, James is desperate to ask someone for advice, because he’s got no clue what to do.
Remus would probably know. He always does. James almost gets up and goes back to the house - their house, now that Grimmauld is no longer Sirius’s house, - so he can quickly floo to the Lupins, and ask for Remus to come with him, to talk to Sirius, to do something. Anything to make Sirius stop looking so bloody miserable.
But then, the full is in three days, and as much as James wants to, he knows Sirius will be cross with him if he mentions any of what happened to Remus before the full. “He’ll be stressed out of his bloody mind, it’ll make everything worse, and we can’t even be there with him,” Sirius would say. And the last thing James needs is Remus being bedridden for the upcoming week in addition to Sirius being pissed at him.
So instead of that, James simply keeps on throwing stones into the lake, throwing glances at Sirius, desperate to think of the right thing to say.
‘I don’t want you to hate me.’
He’s long asleep when the noises downstairs wake him up. He doesn’t bother to get out of bed until his mum charges into his room and orders him to go down to the kitchen, right this moment. He’s halfway asleep still, so he just tells her off and turns to the other side.
“Sirius is here,” she says.
James has never bolted out of his bed quicker.
Sirius is indeed in their kitchen, soaked from head to toe, with blood on his lip and a purple bruise on his cheekbone. He’s fidgeting, his hands are shaking, and his pupils are blown - he’s been hit with the Cruciatus, James realizes.
Many times he wished to walk up to Walburga Black and punch her square in the jaw, but today has taken the cake.
His mum and dad take care of Sirius’s wounds and clothes, but Sirius himself refuses to say anything until he and James are in James’s bedroom, alone. James tries to joke about Sirius being a drama queen, making such a theatrical entrance, but Sirius doesn’t crack a smile.
“They kicked me out.”
James cannot say he’s surprised.
They all know of Sirius’s family and just how awful they are. Sirius has never hidden just how unhappy he is at Grimmauld; both James and Remus and Peter knew that eventually, one of the sides would crack. Either Sirius’s parents would throw him out, or Sirius himself would run away. It was just a matter of time.
And seems it was Sirius’s folk, which James wouldn’t have expected. He always assumed Sirius would make the move.
“Why?” James asks, because Sirius never hid he hates his family, he never tried to be what they wanted him to be, and yet they put up with that. What changed all of a sudden?
Of all the possible answers, the last thing James expects is Sirius to start crying.
It scares him; he’s never seen Sirius cry. Sirius hasn’t cried when they cornered Remus about being a werewolf at the end of their first year - the rest of them did, but not Sirius. He hasn’t cried when, in second year, he told James about his childhood; he told him about the lack of love, his mother hating him, hitting him, cursing him, telling him she wishes he’s never been born - and yet, Sirius hasn’t cried. Not even when, just a few months ago near the end of fourth year they showed Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail to Remus, and again, all of them (Sirius being the sole exception) sobbed when Remus told them they’re the best thing to ever happen to him. Sirius seemed to be immune to tears, they all thought.
And yet here he is, right in front of James, crying, sobbing, and James is completely lost.
He does what he thinks might help, what his mum used to do when he’d wake up from a nightmare as a child - he scoops Sirius into his arms, and lets him cry into his shoulder. He hugs him hard and tells him he doesn’t have to say anything, but if he wants to, he can. It’s just James, after all.
It’s then Sirius says the words that will be stuck with James for months to come.
“I don’t want you to hate me,” he sobs out.
James is taken aback. Sirius has always been confident in their friendship. He’s been the one to always say they’ll be friends forever, through thick and thin, no matter what. That nothing could separate them. They’ve even taken a blood oath at the end of their first year. Sirius is usually never someone to just doubt a friendship, especially their friendship.
“I won’t hate you,” he replies. “Nothing could ever make me hate you.”
Sirius keeps sobbing in his arms, mumbling incoherent words into James’s shoulder, shaking more and more with each minute. James is about to tell him they don’t have to talk about it - it can be left for another day, or never, even, if Sirius doesn’t want to talk about it. And then, there’s those quiet words, choked out between sobs, barely escaping Sirius’s throat.
“I’m gay.”
It’s not what James expected to hear.
He doesn’t even know what he expected, but not that, never that. Frankly, if Sirius were anyone else, James would probably laugh at him. Or roll his eyes, and say he’s being ridiculous - after all, birds like Lily Evans exist. He’d tell Sirius he’s probably just confused, or bored, or hit his head on his way here. He wouldn’t think much of it aside of it surely being a joke.
But this isn’t someone else. This is Sirius. His best mate, his right hand, his second in command. His brother.
His brother, who is right now sobbing in his arms, choking out “please don’t hate me” and “I’m sorry” over and over, as if he’s done something wrong. As if he expects James to do exactly what James would have done to anyone else; to laugh, and not believe him. As if he’s scared he’ll be thrown out for the second time in one night.
As if James could ever do that.
“Sirius,” James says, and pushes Sirius up, because he’s still choking on his tears and repeating apology after apology. “Look at me.”
Sirius does just that. He’s continuously sobbing, breathing harshly and obviously trying to stop, but tears keep escaping him, and his entire body is shaking and he looks just about ready to run out. James never thought he’d ever see Sirius so distressed about something, especially concerning James himself.
He can’t bare to think Sirius is afraid of his reaction.
It’s with that in mind James promises himself he’ll do his damndest to make sure this never happens again. Not when he can be, and should be someone Sirius comes to with things like this. To hell with whatever bullshit James thought before.
He’s clearly been in the wrong before. He’s not above trying to change, especially when Sirius is on the line.
“I don’t care,” James says. “I’m fucking proud that you’re my brother, nothing in this bloody world will change that. Whatever this mental family of yours said to you, they’re wrong. I said what I said - nothing can make me hate you, be it you’re queer or not.”
And then he pulls Sirius back into a hug. Sirius sobs again, but this time with no tension in his shoulders, and at last, he’s not shaking anymore. Instead of apologies, there’s a small ‘thank you’. James stays by Sirius’s side til sunrise.
‘I don’t want you to hate me.’
“I meant what I said, y'know,” James says, after what must have been an hour of sitting in complete silence. They’ve never not talked to each other for so long, not even when they were fighting. Sirius doesn’t turn to him; he keeps fiddling with a pebble in his hand. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“It does, though,” Sirius replies, quietly. He skips another stone.
“No it doesn’t. Honestly, who cares?”
Sirius chuckles grimly. And another stone. “A lot of people do, James.”
“Screw them. I don’t care, mum and dad don’t care, and I’m sure Wormtail and Moony won’t give a damn either. Anyone else can go to hell. I’ll hex them all if I have to.”
Sirius’s mouth twitches in a small smile, but it’s gone just as quick as it appears.
“You’re-... are you sure though? It’s… it’s weird.”
“I don’t want you to hate me.”
“I’m gay.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t hate me.”
James bites back the urge to agree. Be a better person, Potter. “No it’s not. It’s just… rare. And that doesn’t mean it’s bad. Green eyes are also rare. Left handed people are rare. You’re left handed, does that make you weird? No it doesn’t. Neither does anything else about you. Well… aside the fact that you’re insane.”
Sirius smiles for real this time. “Thanks. It’s the inbreeding.”
After that, they fall into comfortable banter, swimming in the lake, chasing frogs, and dunking each other underwater, until they’re soaked and shivering.
They rest under a tree, away from the burning sun.
“So,” James turns to Sirius. Don’t make it weird. “Is there someone?”
“What?” Sirius asks back, brows furrowing.
“Y’know. A guy. Someone like Evans to me, I guess. But, well… not a bird, obviously..”
Sirius turns his eyes away awkwardly. James grins.
“Who is he? Is it Frank? Benjy? It’s not Lockhart, right? Or Snape?”
“God, Prongs, I’m bent, not out of my mind.”
“Tell me, then. You do like someone, right? Or… you don’t have a… a boyfriend, do you?”
It feels strange to even say that out loud. The thought of Sirius having a boyfriend… it’s not something James ever considered before, obviously. Although, it becomes less and less weird the more James thinks about it. It’s almost as if he’d have a girlfriend, but better, because guys are much easier to talk to. It wouldn’t be that bad, to have a new member of the group.
James only hopes whatever bloke Sirius dates in the future is a decent Quidditch player.
“Of course I don’t. No one-.... no one knows yet. Aside you. And, well… my family, now, I guess. But no one else.”
“Is there someone you like, then?”
James can swear Sirius blushes. “Kinda, I guess.”
“Well, go on. Who is he? Do I know him?”
Sirius doesn’t answer, instead looking away.
James stares at his face for a moment. And then, slowly, he looks back at the previous year in school. At things he’s previously dismissed before. But now, knowing Sirius is queer…
Something clicks.
‘I don’t want you to hate me.’
“This might be a long shot, but… is it Moony?”
This time Sirius definitely goes red. James grins to himself.
“Is it that obvious?” Sirius mumbles, refusing to look at James, instead choosing to pick at the grass next to his leg.
“You stare a lot. I always thought it’s cause of the werewolf thing, but now… it makes sense. But that’s great!”
Sirius turns to him, puzzled. “How is that great, exactly?”
“You have Moony, I have Evans, we can woo them together! We’ll come up with a plan, we have the whole summer-”
Sirius laughs. “Oh no no no no. I won’t be ‘wooing’ Moony, no way. He can’t know.”
“But-”
“He can’t, James. I don’t want to ruin things. We don’t even know if he’s gay.”
“He could be. I’ve never seen him with a girl. Well, aside from Evans, but they're best friends so it doesn’t count. So never seen him with a girl.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Well, I’ve never seen you with a girl either, would you look at that.”
Sirius glares at him.
“Okay, maybe that doesn’t mean he’s gay, but it’s something! Plus, you know how he is with secrets. For all we know, he could like you too.”
Sirius sighs, hugging his knees to his chest. “I wish.”
James throws his arm around Sirius, patting him on the back. “I’m telling you, we should plot something.”
“I don’t think he’d like that. If there’s any chance of him liking me at all.”
“He already likes you, who says there’s no way to persuade him to go out with you?”
“I don’t want him to be persuaded. I want him to want to go out with me.”
“Who knows, maybe he already does,” James smiles at him. As much as he’d like to tell Sirius his affections are surely returned, Remus has always been a complete mystery to them all. All James can really do is hope and pray that Remus starts being interested in boys sometime soon. Or start prepping a love potion, but Sirius would probably be against that.
At least they’re talking about it, though. James doesn’t even find it that strange. It’s just like talking about girls.
Well... not really, because they’re talking about Moony, but it’s almost like that. James only hopes Sirius feels a bit more relaxed around him, now that those two secrets are out.
“Why do you like him?”
“Huh?”
“Y’know. Why Moony? Why not someone else?”
They sit in silence for a while. Sirius goes back to playing with a few blades of grass. For a moment, James is scared he pushed it too far. But then Sirius sighs, and leans back.
“I guess it’s… everything? The little things, mostly. Like… y’know he picks at his sleeve when he’s nervous? And he doodles little stars and flowers on his parchment when he’s thinking of what to write. He steals our jumpers, because they’re bigger and reach down his thighs and he likes the extra warmth. He sleeps with a pillow between his legs because he likes to be cuddled into something. And… the way he smiles to himself when reading a book. He has a special smile for every single book he reads, and every one of them is a little different. Like when he’s reading his favourite book of all time, the one about a portrait, he sometimes stops, and sighs, and brings it to his chest, and smiles like he’s reading the best book there is, even though he’s read it like twenty times already, cause the copy he has is so worn out that it actually has tea stains on it, cause sometimes he’ll drink tea when he reads even though he later despises himself for it because he hates destroying books-”
“You’re rambling.” James grins at him. It’s strange to be on this side of the fence, for once. Usually it’s James talking to Sirius about Lily, and usually it’s Sirius who makes fun of him.
It’s good to know Sirius is just as hopelessly crushing on someone as James. Even if it is Remus, who doesn’t play Quidditch and thinks it’s boring. But he’s already one of James’s best friends, so it’s okay.
Him and Sirius would make a good pair, James thinks.
Sirius blinks, once, twice, and then flushes and crosses his arms with a scoff.
“Who’d think you’re such a romantic, huh? The great Sirius Orion Black, careless punk, wants to go on picnic dates and hold hands under the moonlight and buy flowers and chocolates and write poems and-”
“Okay, I get it! Don’t be such a twat.”
“Not my fault you’re a fairy.”
Shit.
Sirius’s eyes leave him, and James wants to smack himself.
‘I don’t want you to hate me.’
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he says quickly, unable to phrase it any other way or turn it into something less offensive. James should start listening to Remus and actually think before he speaks.
“Whatever,” Sirius says lightheartedly with a smile, but James sees he fucked it, cause Sirius looks damn close to crying again, and it’s all cause James is a twat.
It’s not the first time he’s made that joke either, and for a second he wonders just how many times he’s said that in front of Sirius, how many times he’s hurt him, and just how many times Sirius felt like shit because of James and his awful ‘jokes’.
He can’t do anything but try to be better, and even that will take time.
“He’ll need you to be there for him,” his mum said to him yesterday night, after Sirius fell asleep and James tried his best to explain everything to his parents. “We’re the closest thing he has to a family right now. Make it count. Merlin knows this boy deserves to be shown some love.”
“No, I’m a twat, you’re right. It’s-... it’s bad. It’s dumb, and I shouldn’t make those jokes, and just punch me if I do cause it’s not right to do so. Stupid jokes, stupid stereotypes, and all. Sorry.”
Sirius looks at him for a moment, with a blank expression. And then, he smiles, and James can breathe again. “Careful, Potter, or someone’ll think you’re growing up.”
“As if ever.” he grins back at him. “Race you to the house?”
“Last one tells your mum we ruined her tulips?”
“You’re on. Though… our mum likes you better anyway. So don’t think I’m letting you win!”
‘Nothing could ever make me hate you.’