Entry tags:

james potter, james/lily, james/remus, lily potter, remus lupin

[FIC] A God Amongst Men: Remus/James, James/Lily
Originally posted here on 7 August 2007

Title: A God Amongst Men
Requester: maybeido
Author/Artist:
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Remus/James, James/Lily
Summary: James Potter's luck was bound to run out. Who knew he'd take Remus Lupin's along with it?
Warnings: unremitting angst, dub-con, skirting the edge of character assassination, naked!Sirius
Author's Notes: Hopefully NOT showcasing my tendency to make James Public Enemy No. 1 in fics (I tried to restrain myself) - maybeido, I apologise for this being angsty and sad. However, I hope you find pieces you can like.


First year, study hall. Bored and sleepy, James looks up from his note-taking and notices that the boy with the weird eyes, the one who has the bed across their dormitory (the one he and Sirius privately call "Lupus"), isn't concentrating on revising, for once. He's brushing the tip of his quill-feather against his mouth and dreamily watching Fabian Prewett doodle obscene stick figures, four seats down.

James wants to laugh. That is, he feels he should want to laugh. He should want to nudge Sirius awake and gesture towards the other boy, and speculate on whether or not he and Sirius should inform Prewett that one of their year already fancies him - within Lupus's hearing, just to watch him go pink. James knows this is what he should do, but he can't seem to do it. Lupus is already weird enough without James heaping social ostracism on him further, the boy's barely spoken twenty words to him the entire two months they've been at Hogwarts. And there's always the possibility that Fabian would think that it was he, James, with the crush, which would be disgusting and counterproductive. And he doesn't want to wake Sirius because he's hoping Sirius will either start to snore or his hand will slip from under his chin and he'll conk his head on the table.

...And there's the way Lupus's gaze has stretched towards the open windows, now; and how his pink mouth is a little open and his eyes are mostly closed, and he's lazily tracing the feather along his too-thin pale little neck. James swallows and watches covertly as Lupus's eyes slowly close.

A thunk next to him startles James nearly out of his skin - Sirius's hand has, indeed, slipped and now Sirius is whimpering and rubbing his nose while the rest of Gryffindor table sniggers quietly. James quickly turns his attention to his best mate and mocks accordingly, but after they've both hunched over their notebooks again, James steals a glance down the table towards Lupus, and notices the other boy's eyes are still closed.

***


James winces as Lily applies the disinfecting potion to the burns on his arms - the sting of it is long and unpleasant as the skin heals underneath. She sighs as she wipes him clean, bottom lip tucked neatly between her teeth, a thin line appearing between her eyebrows. His wife, James notices, looks tired.

"Should've seen 'em, Lily," Sirius is crowing from the bathtub, where he's still soaking in essence of murtlap - Wilkes's (at least, they think it was Wilkes) hexes hit his legs so badly James had to drag him to the Apparation point to get him home. "Curses flying everywhere, and we were dodging behind trees and bushes and - oh, Arthur took one on the shoulder, bet if we went outside we could hear Molly's shrieking from here - "

Lily's mouth tightens. James frowns. "Shut up, Sirius."

Nonplussed, Sirius does actually fall silent. The water slaps in the bathtub, from where he was jostling around.

"You were both very lucky," she murmurs a moment later, and puts a hand on James's knee to help push herself into standing, an arm working underneath her distended belly automatically, protectively. James takes the hand on his knee and turns it palm up, kisses it. Presses his lips to the flowered fabric and thin skin covering their son.

"We always are," James says, and looks up at her through the dark, thick eyelashes she envies, and tries for a winning smile.

She smiles back, but it doesn't reach her eyes - they stay dull and murky as pondwater. "You've always been," she murmurs, squeezing his hand before releasing it, shuffling out of the bathroom in her dressing gown. "There's a difference."


***


James notices Lupus shooting sidelong, subtle little glances at Sirius and Rodolphus Lestrange and a few of the other fourth-year Slytherin boys that make up their Defence Against the Dark Arts sessions. He wonders if Lupus actually thinks no one is noticing, because he certainly is. More, he's a bit miffed - not at having an obvious poof in their midst, or at said obvious poof looking at his best friend (James wasn't going to analyse the primal, possessive snarl he gave mentally whenever someone flirted with Sirius) or even sharing a dormitory with one (he looked it up in the library and it's definitely not catching, is pooftery...which would have been such an easy explanation, damn it) - but at the fact that Lupus hasn't looked at him. Not even once.

And he, James Harold Potter, is a god amongst men. Even if he does have the occasional spot. That Lupus fails to notice this is unpatriotic, criminal, and common. And characteristic. James frowns as he stews over the ignominy, and considers taking out his anger on Sirius (always a willing subject, kinky bastard) by drawing a penis on the sloppy notes he's taking, but decides against it in favour of tackling the problem head-on, as it were.

"Hoy, Lupus," he hisses, tearing and crumpling a corner of parchment and tossing it at him. The boy startles and accidentally leaves a blob of ink on his own carefully-outlined notes, which earns James a filthy glare and leaves him temporarily breathless.

So he does it again.

Lupus carefully sets the second ball of parchment on the edge of his desk and touches the tip of his wand to it. James doesn't even hear him mutter a spell, before the parchment bursts into a second-long fireball and is suddenly a light dusting of ash near Lupus's inkwell.

"Wicked," he hears Sirius breathe. Impressed despite himself, James gives the boy a smirk, which is cautiously returned. The edges of Lupus's mouth look like they hurt to smile, like it's a bit unnatural and working a set of muscles he didn't know he had. There's a dimple on his left cheek, a small divot in the skin there that James has never seen before, almost hidden as it is by overly-long waves of brown hair.

James realises he's been staring at the dimple, and looks up - Lupus (what's his first name? three and a half years in the same room and James still isn't certain) is giving him a nervous look, amber eyes shuttered before he cuts his gaze away. There's a curious scrape going from the boy's nose to his jawbone, freshly healed and raw-looking as the sun hits it. It's paler than the rest of his skin, and that's when James notices - to his utmost satisfaction - that Lupus is blushing.

He corners him outside, when the lesson's done. Lupus glances off to the sides, looking for a way out, but he's been too reserved, too standoffish - no one's looking for him. "Nice trick, with the parchment," James opens, leaning against the wall of the alcove, giving him a pleasant smile. The other boy relaxes, though his arms still clutch his books to his chest protectively. "Where'd you learn it?"

A dart of tongue on dry lips, and then a voice James has only heard during the rare Transfiguration lesson - sweet and low and somewhat thrilling: "I read about it."

James smiles, taken. He tilts his head. "Should've been a Ravenclaw."

Major tactical error: it's visible, the way Lupus draws back into his shell at that. James blinks before he realises his mistake. "No! No, that is, I'm glad you're not."

"Are you." It's not a question, only a dry, cynical statement.

"Yeah," James nods. "It's Remus, isn't it?"

Remus nods as well, eyes still wary, waiting. Sirius is probably waiting for him in the Great Hall, probably eating all the chicken without him, James thinks, but then he thinks, this could be better.

"Want to sit with me and Sirius at lunch, then, Remus?" James offers, and he knows they both know that it's an offer not to be taken lightly - the Pettigrew kid, for instance, has been trying to sit with him and Sirius for years. But there have to be some standards. Lupus - Remus, however, is having none of it. The cleverness, the edge of suspicion sharpen the arousal James has been trying to suppress.

"Why?" Remus asks, his voice hovering somewhere between wariness and doubt and hope. His light eyes dart to a point behind James, and then to James, and then down James. And James smiles, takes a step forward, reaches a hand up to help shift the books to the windowsill. Why not, he thinks, as he slides his fingers along Remus's and watches the boy's breath catch in his chest. Remus's lips are pink and innocent, his eyes are slit and almost yellow like a cat's, and the fingers against James's are nervous and cold.

"Because you like me," he shrugs, casual. "And I like you." He gives Remus a slow-curling smile. "And we both like Sirius."


***


Gideon Prewett's blue eyes pin James to the wall, and he's left wriggling, uncomfortable in the cold metal chair. "There's a mole," he says simply. "They knew we would be there."

"Well it wasn't me or S - " James begins, but is startled quiet by the slam of a hand down on the kitchen table. The glasses and dishes left over from dinner clatter.

"Someone knew. And now Fabian's at St Mungo's and Meadowes is unaccounted for. They took her," Gideon hisses, his glare shifting over to Sirius, who starts to squirm.

"Look, Gid, you know it wasn't us," Sirius wheedles, trying to turn on the half-mad Black family charm. "It's got to be someone else, there's bound to be a weak link somewhere in the Ministry, someone letting things sl - "

"No one at the Ministry knew we were going," Gideon mutters a few seconds later. "Fabian and I didn't tell anyone. For fuck's sake, Dorcas didn't have anyone left to tell, they wiped out all of her family when they hit Islington. Boys, it's someone you know." He exhaled, rubbed a huge hand over his face, suddenly looking exhausted. "Look, did anyone other than you two and Lily know there was a mission tonight?"

"No!" James and Sirius squawk indignantly, in unison.

"Yes," Lily murmurs from her corner, her eyes hooded, her arms folded. She glances up and gives James an almost apologetic look. "Sirius wasn't very discreet last weekend at the pub - Muggle pub," she adds hastily, before Gideon can start to curse.

"We used Muffliato," Sirius scoffs. "There's no way anyone outside our table could've heard anything."

"She's not talking about the Muggles," James murmurs, gazing pensively at her as his skin goes cold. He glances over at Sirius, and is almost apologetic when he continues. "Moony and Wormtail."

Predictably, Sirius splutters on his glass of water. "You're shitting me. There's no way," he says angrily, glaring at James and then at Lily and then at Gideon. "There's no way. They wouldn't do that. Fuck, we're their best friends," he says, one hand clenching rhythmically on the table.

Gideon frowns, shifts in his seat. "You haven't noticed either of them acting differently, lately?" he asks, the question expanding til it seems to suffocate them. "Changes in behaviour or opinions?"

"This is ridiculous," Sirius spits. James is still gazing over at Lily, their eyes locked.


***


"Get the fuck away from me," Remus hisses, half-drunk, pushing James to the other side of the narrow corridor, fumbling with his keys to try to unlock the door to his cold-water flat. His hands are too cold, and they're shaking, and after James has pushed himself up into standing, Remus gives up and casts an Alohomora at the lock, letting himself in. James shoulders in through the door before Remus can shut it, and immediately grabs the other man and presses him up against it, using his 30 pounds and 3 inches' worth of advantage. "No," Remus snarls, craning his neck away, trying to kick James away from him. "James, no."

For all he's a werewolf three days out of the month, it doesn't make Remus any less of a lightweight for the other 27 - and James is glad of it, glad of the ability to overpower him even though his eyes go feral and he has a tendency to bite. "Yes," he groans softly, and grinds his half-hard erection into Remus's hip, at the same time he bites and licks at the pulse of his neck. The strangled whine Remus gives at that is familiar, but it still manages to make James's face flame with lust, make the blood near his skin boil til the air crackles around them like ice melting.

"You fucking bastard," Remus hisses, is still hissing when he finally manages to shove James off, push him into what passes for the living room. "You fucking bastard - haven't I told you not to come here?" James is speechless - with the cold, with lust, with the way Remus's angry breaths puff out like he's taken up smoking and his eyes snap.

"You just don't want Sirius to know where you're staying," he hears himself say, and he's almost as startled by the words as by the open-handed smack Remus lands on his cheek a moment later. He hasn't been smacked since he was five, and a few seconds after the contact, the blood rushes to the skin and begins to sting. Against the cold air, it's only another layer of sensation, another rush of blood to harden his dick, and he lets out a startled laugh.

"Pregnant with your son and you're here," Lupin snarls, shoving him back til James stumbles, trips onto the mattress on the floor. "Like we're still Marauders, like we're still in that bloody castle and hanging on your every word." His voice seethes with disdain, something that sounds like hate, and James is terrified at how much it turns him on - he's grasping at the buttons on Remus's coat, trying to tug them apart, but then Remus grabs his wrists and thrusts them away, pinning one to the sheets. "Don't touch me."

"Remus," he gasps, needing to touch and grab and - fuck, suddenly Lupin's on top of him, straddling his legs, rubbing their crotches together slowly. His gaze is fixed on Remus, on how his eyelids flutter at the contact. "Remus, please," he hisses, arching up into him.

"Just shut up," Remus whispers back, his eyes closing all the way, his head tilting back as he just swivels his hips and rocks, with them still fully dressed, rock-hard and chafing against the jeans they're both wearing. "Don't talk, Merlin, please."

"Remus," James gasps - he was never good with following directions. "Remus, fuck - " he lets out an open-mouthed groan as hands finally slide to the front of his jeans, finally start undoing his button and zip.

"Too cold to fuck," Remus mutters, reaching inside his coat and undoing his own trousers as his one hand slips James's cock out of his pants, into the cold air. James hisses and his erection wilts just a little, and Remus snorts before shimmying back up his legs, spitting in his hand and rubbing it on James's dick for a few seconds before he covers them both with his coat and rocks them both together. "That what you wanted?"

"Ungh," James replies in the affirmative, his hands sliding under Remus's coat, up his thighs, up to where the fabric of his jeans are strung tight between his legs. Remus's breath is hot on his ear, his hair is falling against his cheek, into his mouth as they move fitfully, one of Remus's hands still between them, teasing over the heads of both their pricks.

"Does she not let you stick it in her?" he hisses nastily, the words too mean for him, falling uneven and trembling from his lips. "Afraid of what it might do to the baby?"

"Don't talk about her," James chokes, his breath coming out harsh in the bitter cold. Remus sucks in a breath so deep and ugly it might have been a sob, but James's eyes are closed, and he doesn't want to risk opening them and seeing for himself. "Don't, just - "

"Let you enjoy your werewolf bit of rough?" Remus supplies - his conversation attempts are halted, then, by James scowling and rocking up, brief staccato thrusts that force the breath out of him and make them both lightheaded as their pricks drag together. When James sags back, Remus is shivering, rocking his hips fitfully down, twisting and arching to find the best angle and stay there. He's muttering to himself, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and James just thinks he's saying "fuck" before he manages to listen more closely for a second and realises Remus is saying, over and over again, "fuck you, fuck you, fuck you."

His chest hurts, at that - it tightens and tightens until he's afraid something's going to break. He tries to make it better by dragging Remus down against him, holding him against the token struggle until Remus sags and presses his forehead against James's neck and rocks them tighter together, hands fisting the dirty sheets on both sides of them. "Remus," James breathes, kissing his temple, stroking his sweaty hair back from his forehead. "Remus." It's easier for him to thrust up at this angle, easier for him to cup Remus's arse and tug him in, slide a finger through the crack of his arse until Remus is gasping against his neck and shooting against his belly. James groans and thrusts through the slick mess on his belly - once, twice more before shuddering out his release (too short, too hot) and going still.

Remus is quiet on top of him. James sighs and kisses his forehead, tries to stoke an afterglow even in the freezing room, but Remus cringes and slides off of him, curling onto himself on the mattress. "Get out," he mutters, defeated.

"Moony," James says as he tucks himself back into his jeans, zips up. "Moony," he murmurs, spooning loosely against him. Remus shivers, and goes still.

"Why couldn't you have left me alone?" he whispers, words brittle and cold and confused in his throat. He doesn't move and James doesn't answer as he casts a few Cleaning Charms and gets his cloak and Apparates home for dinner.


***


"Anything at all," Gideon presses gently, looking from James to Sirius and back again. "Have they been hurt during the fighting? Either of them have anything to hold against one of us, or you?"

Sirius is scowling, shaking his head vehemently, muttering invectives about what sort of a person Gideon thinks he is, anyway. Lily is suddenly avoiding James's eyes, picking at her fingernails, wincing as the baby gives a kick inside her. James takes a deep breath, and shivers, feeling cold settle deep inside him.

"...Yeah, actually. Something against me."