James is a little like Remus and a little like Sirius and nothing at all like Peter. But he’s the kindest of them all-- Remus is too contained to seem friendly even when he means to be and Sirius tends towards cruel when he jokes and talks. So it’s him that Peter ends up following all the time. It’s James that Peter wants to be.

Sirius just wants Peter to go away. James is his, his and Remus’s. Peter had a chance, and Sirius would have shared, but Peter said he only likes girls. So now he needs to leave, leave long enough for Sirius to bury his cock in James’s arse, let those incredible muscles squeeze their moments of pure ecstasy straight from his soul. Or whatever poetic crap someone wants to think of to describe that absolutely necessary release.

“Bugger off, Pete.”

James glances up. “Oi! If you’re nasty to Wormtail, you’re not buggering anybody tonight.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He doesn’t want sex that badly.

Remus doesn’t look up from his book as he joins the conversation. “Who’s getting buggered?” he asks.

“Prongs” says Sirius, at the same times James says “We’re still deciding if anybody is.”

He changes his mind. He does want sex that bad. And since it’s James’s arse and all, Sirius figures it is a privilege that he gets to use it. He rolls his eyes and relucantly stands. “Wormtail, would you do us the honour of leaving so that we can all get our rocks off in a nice, homosexual huddle?” he asks with a little bow and a sweeping arm gesture.

Peter squeaks and disappears. James frowns at Sirius. Remus makes a disapproving little sound without looking up. Sirius says, “What?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remus only tops. Sirius is versatile. James is, to his friends’ utter astonishment, a complete bottom. He topped Sirius once, but now only threatens to when Sirius is about to be rude to Peter. And he has yet to make good on his threat. Sirius and Remus think it’s hilarious, both because he’s the unofficial ‘leader’ of the Marauders and because he’s the most genuinely bisexual of them. He has fun, certainly, fooling around with them, but if Lily Evans ever gave him the time of day, he’d be gone in a heartbeat.

“Oi, Evans!”

Sirius rolls his eyes. James is often the best traits of the Marauders personified-- Remus’s steadiness without his staidness, Sirius’s enthusiasm without his recklessness, Peter’s loyalty without his hero worship. But in interpersonal relationships outside of the four, he sucks.

“Yes, Potter?” Evans already sounds pissed.

“Go out with me?”

“Not if you were the last man on earth!” She calls back. As comebacks go, it’s a little lame, but the message makes it across.

James pretends to cry, holding fists to his eyes theatrically. “Please, please, Lily!”

“No.”

Partially acting and partially actually dejected, James slinks back to the couch which holds Remus and Sirius. Plunking himself down in the middle, he sits on Sirius’s legs without compunction and throws his own over Remus’s lap. “She said no.”

“We know,” says Remus, who has very little patience with James’s Lily-obsession for some reason. “Everyone in Gryffindor tower knows.”

James makes a face, and Sirius grabs his best friend’s ear to pull him down and kiss him quickly. “Careful,” he says in a soft voice when he pulls away. “You already look like a Yeti with that hair. Imagine if your face got stuck like that.” He looks serious. “Snogging is the only cure, you know,” he says sagely.

James’s eyes light up, ignoring the jibe at his hair entirely. “Maybe I should get stuck like that and you can lock me in a room with Evans!” he jokes.

“Jamie, Jamie,” says Sirius, shaking his head. “You’d look like a ticked-off Yeti for all of eternity.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James is Sirus’s best friend. Sirius is James’s best friend. Remus is Sirius’s... something. Something close and momentarily nameless. Sirius is the same to him. James and Remus share an unspoken understanding. But because of the nature of unspoken understandings, they speak to each other little, and interact less than the other pairs.

Sirius has something of a voyeuristic streak. But Remus and James rarely touch each other without his presence-- Remus is too embarrassed, still, and James respects people far too much, Sirius thinks. A little pushing is sometimes necessary for the good of the werewolf, he’s concluded. Without him around, Remus would die of stuffiness, or some similar disease that ails people who have no fun.

So, as soon as he’s gotten Pete cleared out of the dorm and James and Remus undressed, he steps away. For a moment, they don’t notice his absence, and then Remus breaks the kiss to look up at him. “Aren’t you coming?” he asks.

Sirius smirks and nods at his hand, which is busily working his cock. “Soon enough.”

James rolls his eyes. “Back with us, Padfoot.”

Sirius pretends like he didn’t know that was what they meant. “Oh. No. I want to watch.”

Remus and James exchange a glance, and then shrug in unison. “Why not,” says James.

“Alright,” agrees Remus.

“Goody,” says Sirius, and settles back on his own bed, every pillow in the dorm fluffed around him. He is nude, and the setting makes him look vaguely like a king-- in a porn movie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m bored,” whines Sirius. James looks up; Remus doesn’t. Neither responds verbally.

“Jaaam-ieee!” tries Sirius.

“Fuck you, Sirius,” says James without menace.

“Really?” says Sirius, brightening. “Pretty please?”

James puts a scrap of parchment in his text to keep his place, and sets it down beside him. “What’s the obsession with me fucking you, Padfoot?” he asks.

It’s true. Despite the fact that Remus is usually willing to fuck him and Sirius is generally not quite this eager to bottom, lately he’s been on a single-minded crusade for James’s cock up his arse.

Sirius shrugs. “Random urge,” he says.

James considers for a moment with his head cocked, then nods slowly. “Alright,” he says.

Jumping up from the bed, Sirius pounces on Remus, intent on sharing his joy. “Moony!” he cries. “Jamie’s gonna-”

“I heard,” says Remus tersely, and Sirius spares a second to wonder what’s got Moony’s panties in a twist before he heads over to James’s bed. Probably his favourite character in whatever boring book that is just snuffed it and now he’s all sad but doesn’t want to show it.

Sirius mentally shrugs and jumps onto James’s bed much the same way he joined Remus.

“Stop calling me Jamie,” says James in greeting. “Makes me feel like I’m about three.”

Sirius makes a face. “But it’s so much harder to whine ‘Prongs’ or ‘James.’”

“Imagine that,” says James dryly, reaching out to undo the buttons on Sirius’s shirt, the tie already discarded. “What would you do without some way to whine at me.”

Sirius suddenly looks all of three himself as he strips James to the waist in one fluid movement. “I created a way to whine at Moony,” he says sagely. “Because I couldn’t say Reemie, that just sounds stupid.”

“Thank you,” interjects Remus dryly. “I wholeheartedly agree.”

James and Sirius ignore him as Sirius goes on. “And there’s really no good way to whine at me,” he says smugly. “Padfoot isn’t the right kind of name-oh!- and Sear-y sounds like some lovesick...ah... second-year.”

Slicking himself perfunctorily, James slides inside Sirius to cut him off.

“Thanks,” says Remus. “It’s hard to read when he’s going on like that.”

“No-- problem...” pants James.

“Did somebody die in your book?” asks Sirius in a perfectly reasonable tone, giving no indication that he is barely able to catch his breath. "You’re grouchy."

Remus grunts.

“Is that--oh!-- a yes?”

“Would you-- fucking-- shut up?” says James, grunting with effort.

“You’re impossible,” says Remus to Sirius, ignoring James. “Can’t even shut up during perfectly good sex. But yes, that’s a yes. Somebody died.”

“I--bloody--knew it!” says Sirius triumphantly, then dissolves into a moaning heap of boyflesh on James’s mattress as the latter hits just the right spot and captures his mouth in a fierce kiss.

---

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