And Now, Instead Of Mounting Barbed Steeds (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
blanketforts Day 25)
Jan. 29th, 2006 11:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosie_ruesTitle: And Now, Instead Of Mounting Barbed Steeds
Rating: PG for language
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them because I like them.
Wordcount: 1374
Prompt: I’m trying not to be so antisocial
Truth be told, I’m not entirely hopeful
I’ve woken up on one too many floors
But my favourite was yours
~ There Is A Boy That Never Goes Out / The Lucksmiths
Notes: Fights and mixed advice. Title from Richard III.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25
James Potter lay on his living room floor and gazed balefully at his ceiling. “I hate this house.”
“Bit late now, isn’t it?” Peter asked sleepily. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It doesn’t have Lily in it.”
“I don’t think that’s the house’s fault.”
“Fuck off, Wormtail.”
“Charming.”
James sighed heavily. Lily hated him. She’d already cancelled two dates at the last minute this week. Nothing he did was right. All he wanted to do was live happily ever after with her. How had trying to manage that pissed her off so much? Had he really made her hate him so much she’d found someone else?
The sheer panic of the thought made him feel sick. Why was he so fucking useless?
He didn’t realise he’d said it out loud until Peter replied drearily, “You’re not useless, Prongs.”
“You’re no good. Where are those other two wankers?”
“Still in the kitchen.”
“What are they doing in there?”
Peter yawned. “They’re either fighting or shagging. Or both.”
“Not in my kitchen!” James yelped, shooting to his feet.
At that moment, Sirius’ voice rang out, booming with rage. “You are not going to win this!”
James and Peter shut up and turned in time to hear Remus say coolly, “I don’t see how I can lose.”
“Just give up! You don’t seem to understand how fucking stupid you’re being!”
“Merlin,” Peter muttered. “Is it day of the domestics or something?”
“I’m not stupid, Sirius,” Remus said and the exaggerated patience in his voice made both James and Peter back away.
Peter glanced at him. “He actually managed to piss Moony off.”
“Have you spoken to him today?”
“Once. He swore at me and threatened to flush me down a toilet if I didn’t stop smiling.”
“Fuck,” James muttered. Why couldn’t anyone just be happy? “Has someone made him think about himself?”
“Moony’s trying to seduce him,” Peter informed him cheerfully. “It’s a challenge.”
Oh, fuckity-fuck. Why couldn’t Sirius just cope with emotions like anyone else? Why did he always have to analyse himself into idiocy?
“You don’t look pleased?” Peter asked.
“Sounds like a fucking disaster.”
“Don’t you think Moony can do it?”
“I’m worried about the war zone until he succeeds.”
“Fifty galleons he does it by the end of the month.”
Six days. “You’re sure of yourself.”
“Padfoot’s cracking. Come on.”
He probably had fifty galleons. How long could Sirius hold out? He managed it for years. “Done. If he cracks before the thirty-first I’ll pay up.”
“Nope,” Peter said. “If he doesn’t, I’ll pay up. If he does, you have three hours in which to propose to Lily before I apparate her into the front garden.”
“Wormtail,” James began. Then he thought about. Surely he’d have managed it by then. All profit then. “Done.”
They shook on it solemnly.
Sirius was still raging, his voice raising further and further. Then, mid-shout, there was silence.
James winced. Moony better not have killed him. It would be an arse to explain to Lily. Then he thought about what else silence might signify and whimpered, “My worktops.”
“There, there,” Peter said, patting him on the shoulder.
Then Sirius said viciously, “Don’t do that. I don’t want it.”
“Then why take it?” Remus asked, his voice still level.
“I don’t want you. That’s why I keep saying no.”
“And the times you say yes?”
There was a silence, and James tried not to look at Peter. They shouldn’t be listening to this.
“I have needs,” Sirius purred.
“Ouch,” Peter muttered.
It was another moment before Remus spoke again, his voice slightly less even, “You can’t make me hate you, Padfoot. When you’ve decided to stop trying, owl me, and I’ll come home.”
The kitchen door clicked open. James tried to pretend he hadn’t been listening. Remus walked over to the fire, arms stretched out down his sides. Sirius stumbled into the kitchen doorway, face still flushed.
“Seagull’s Rest,” Remus said precisely, casting the Floo powder in. “Bognor Regis.”
“What?” Sirius roared, paling. “Remus!”
But he was gone.
Sirius lunged for the fire. James and Peter tackled him, knocking him into the brand new sofa.
“Bad, bad idea,” Peter panted.
“Temper,” James snapped, wrapping his fingers into Sirius’ hair and pulling until he knew it must hurt. “Fight it.”
Sirius struggled wildly for a few minutes, snarling at them. Peter planted his weight on the small of his back and refused to be budged. At last Sirius sank down, pressing his face into the cushions. A few breaths later he said, muffled, “I won’t go after him.”
“Promise.”
“Honour as a Gryffindor. Can’t breathe.”
Peter got up. He sent a worried look at James and said cheerily, “Right. I’ll be off. Got a late shift. Curry tomorrow, lads?”
“Here,” James said. “Thanks for the help with the bathroom.”
“Any time.”
James waited until he was gone before he sat down on the chair opposite. Sirius seemed to be trying to suffocate himself in the cushions. “Sit up, Padfoot.”
“Worried I’ll break your sofa?”
“I’m worried you’ll break my friend,” James said. “Both my friends.”
Sirius sat up reluctantly. “Proves my point, doesn’t it?”
“The only way you’re hurting him right now is by breaking his heart.”
Sirius stared down at his hands. “It isn’t easy.”
“Then why are you doing it?”
“It’s the right thing to do.”
“No, Sirius,” James said, as gently and firmly as he could. “It’s not.”
Sirius looked up at him, eyes wide and lost. “I’ll hurt him.”
“You might,” James said. “That’s life. It’s not set in stone. But you are hurting him now. Badly.”
“I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Then don’t.”
“It’s not that fucking simple.”
“Yes, it is,” James said sternly. “It’s just that simple. Do you love him?”
“Yes,” Sirius said, as if he was surprised James had asked.
James thought of Lily, of the way his heart still leapt every time he saw her; of cold silences and thin excuses. “Don’t waste the chance, Padfoot. Some things are too good to fuck up.”
Sirius sighed. “I already fucked up.”
“Then fix it.”
“I don’t know how.”
James shrugged. “Remus seems to have a plan. Just tell him you’re a fuckwit and go with his idea.”
“Too easy.”
“Sometimes life is easy.”
They sat in silence for a while before Sirius snorted and said, “Fuck. We grew up.”
“Bastard of a thing,” James agreed.
“Can I stay in the spare room?”
“It’s what it’s there for. Don’t want to go home?”
“Not on my own.” Sirius brooded over his knees, face full of gloom.
James looked around and sighed again. “I wish Lily was here.”
“Things aren’t alright with her, are they?”
“No,” James admitted miserably.
“We’re a pair of useless buggers, aren’t we?”
“Speak for yourself. Any advice?”
Sirius held his hands out in a shrug. “I’m crap at advice. Reckless bastard, remember. I’d probably just fly over there and drag her back to the house. She’s a bright girl. She’d work it out.”
“It’s fucking cold out there,” James said. “Don’t fly to Bognor tonight.”
“Wasn’t planning to. He probably wouldn’t let me in the window.”
“Do you think Lily might?”
“Worth a try.”
James jumped up, a trickle of hope moving through him. “See yourself to bed, mate. I’m off.”
“Good luck,” Sirius said, smirking, and James stopped worrying about him quite so much.
It took him forty minutes to get to Surrey, muffled in scarves and his old Quidditch robes. He tried to move unobtrusively over the rooftops, until he could sink down beside Lily’s window. The curtains were back and the light was on.
Lily wasn’t there.
Damn. She must have gone to the loo. James huddled into his scarf and waited for her to come back. After ten minutes, there was no sign of her. He flew round to the bathroom window. The light was off. There were no other lights on in the house but he shone a light through every window, in case she had fallen asleep somewhere. There was no sign of her.
He flew back up but she still wasn’t in bed.
Heart cold, James waited.
After an hour, he gave up, and flew home slowly through the cold sky.
Rating: PG for language
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them because I like them.
Wordcount: 1374
Prompt: I’m trying not to be so antisocial
Truth be told, I’m not entirely hopeful
I’ve woken up on one too many floors
But my favourite was yours
~ There Is A Boy That Never Goes Out / The Lucksmiths
Notes: Fights and mixed advice. Title from Richard III.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25
James Potter lay on his living room floor and gazed balefully at his ceiling. “I hate this house.”
“Bit late now, isn’t it?” Peter asked sleepily. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It doesn’t have Lily in it.”
“I don’t think that’s the house’s fault.”
“Fuck off, Wormtail.”
“Charming.”
James sighed heavily. Lily hated him. She’d already cancelled two dates at the last minute this week. Nothing he did was right. All he wanted to do was live happily ever after with her. How had trying to manage that pissed her off so much? Had he really made her hate him so much she’d found someone else?
The sheer panic of the thought made him feel sick. Why was he so fucking useless?
He didn’t realise he’d said it out loud until Peter replied drearily, “You’re not useless, Prongs.”
“You’re no good. Where are those other two wankers?”
“Still in the kitchen.”
“What are they doing in there?”
Peter yawned. “They’re either fighting or shagging. Or both.”
“Not in my kitchen!” James yelped, shooting to his feet.
At that moment, Sirius’ voice rang out, booming with rage. “You are not going to win this!”
James and Peter shut up and turned in time to hear Remus say coolly, “I don’t see how I can lose.”
“Just give up! You don’t seem to understand how fucking stupid you’re being!”
“Merlin,” Peter muttered. “Is it day of the domestics or something?”
“I’m not stupid, Sirius,” Remus said and the exaggerated patience in his voice made both James and Peter back away.
Peter glanced at him. “He actually managed to piss Moony off.”
“Have you spoken to him today?”
“Once. He swore at me and threatened to flush me down a toilet if I didn’t stop smiling.”
“Fuck,” James muttered. Why couldn’t anyone just be happy? “Has someone made him think about himself?”
“Moony’s trying to seduce him,” Peter informed him cheerfully. “It’s a challenge.”
Oh, fuckity-fuck. Why couldn’t Sirius just cope with emotions like anyone else? Why did he always have to analyse himself into idiocy?
“You don’t look pleased?” Peter asked.
“Sounds like a fucking disaster.”
“Don’t you think Moony can do it?”
“I’m worried about the war zone until he succeeds.”
“Fifty galleons he does it by the end of the month.”
Six days. “You’re sure of yourself.”
“Padfoot’s cracking. Come on.”
He probably had fifty galleons. How long could Sirius hold out? He managed it for years. “Done. If he cracks before the thirty-first I’ll pay up.”
“Nope,” Peter said. “If he doesn’t, I’ll pay up. If he does, you have three hours in which to propose to Lily before I apparate her into the front garden.”
“Wormtail,” James began. Then he thought about. Surely he’d have managed it by then. All profit then. “Done.”
They shook on it solemnly.
Sirius was still raging, his voice raising further and further. Then, mid-shout, there was silence.
James winced. Moony better not have killed him. It would be an arse to explain to Lily. Then he thought about what else silence might signify and whimpered, “My worktops.”
“There, there,” Peter said, patting him on the shoulder.
Then Sirius said viciously, “Don’t do that. I don’t want it.”
“Then why take it?” Remus asked, his voice still level.
“I don’t want you. That’s why I keep saying no.”
“And the times you say yes?”
There was a silence, and James tried not to look at Peter. They shouldn’t be listening to this.
“I have needs,” Sirius purred.
“Ouch,” Peter muttered.
It was another moment before Remus spoke again, his voice slightly less even, “You can’t make me hate you, Padfoot. When you’ve decided to stop trying, owl me, and I’ll come home.”
The kitchen door clicked open. James tried to pretend he hadn’t been listening. Remus walked over to the fire, arms stretched out down his sides. Sirius stumbled into the kitchen doorway, face still flushed.
“Seagull’s Rest,” Remus said precisely, casting the Floo powder in. “Bognor Regis.”
“What?” Sirius roared, paling. “Remus!”
But he was gone.
Sirius lunged for the fire. James and Peter tackled him, knocking him into the brand new sofa.
“Bad, bad idea,” Peter panted.
“Temper,” James snapped, wrapping his fingers into Sirius’ hair and pulling until he knew it must hurt. “Fight it.”
Sirius struggled wildly for a few minutes, snarling at them. Peter planted his weight on the small of his back and refused to be budged. At last Sirius sank down, pressing his face into the cushions. A few breaths later he said, muffled, “I won’t go after him.”
“Promise.”
“Honour as a Gryffindor. Can’t breathe.”
Peter got up. He sent a worried look at James and said cheerily, “Right. I’ll be off. Got a late shift. Curry tomorrow, lads?”
“Here,” James said. “Thanks for the help with the bathroom.”
“Any time.”
James waited until he was gone before he sat down on the chair opposite. Sirius seemed to be trying to suffocate himself in the cushions. “Sit up, Padfoot.”
“Worried I’ll break your sofa?”
“I’m worried you’ll break my friend,” James said. “Both my friends.”
Sirius sat up reluctantly. “Proves my point, doesn’t it?”
“The only way you’re hurting him right now is by breaking his heart.”
Sirius stared down at his hands. “It isn’t easy.”
“Then why are you doing it?”
“It’s the right thing to do.”
“No, Sirius,” James said, as gently and firmly as he could. “It’s not.”
Sirius looked up at him, eyes wide and lost. “I’ll hurt him.”
“You might,” James said. “That’s life. It’s not set in stone. But you are hurting him now. Badly.”
“I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Then don’t.”
“It’s not that fucking simple.”
“Yes, it is,” James said sternly. “It’s just that simple. Do you love him?”
“Yes,” Sirius said, as if he was surprised James had asked.
James thought of Lily, of the way his heart still leapt every time he saw her; of cold silences and thin excuses. “Don’t waste the chance, Padfoot. Some things are too good to fuck up.”
Sirius sighed. “I already fucked up.”
“Then fix it.”
“I don’t know how.”
James shrugged. “Remus seems to have a plan. Just tell him you’re a fuckwit and go with his idea.”
“Too easy.”
“Sometimes life is easy.”
They sat in silence for a while before Sirius snorted and said, “Fuck. We grew up.”
“Bastard of a thing,” James agreed.
“Can I stay in the spare room?”
“It’s what it’s there for. Don’t want to go home?”
“Not on my own.” Sirius brooded over his knees, face full of gloom.
James looked around and sighed again. “I wish Lily was here.”
“Things aren’t alright with her, are they?”
“No,” James admitted miserably.
“We’re a pair of useless buggers, aren’t we?”
“Speak for yourself. Any advice?”
Sirius held his hands out in a shrug. “I’m crap at advice. Reckless bastard, remember. I’d probably just fly over there and drag her back to the house. She’s a bright girl. She’d work it out.”
“It’s fucking cold out there,” James said. “Don’t fly to Bognor tonight.”
“Wasn’t planning to. He probably wouldn’t let me in the window.”
“Do you think Lily might?”
“Worth a try.”
James jumped up, a trickle of hope moving through him. “See yourself to bed, mate. I’m off.”
“Good luck,” Sirius said, smirking, and James stopped worrying about him quite so much.
It took him forty minutes to get to Surrey, muffled in scarves and his old Quidditch robes. He tried to move unobtrusively over the rooftops, until he could sink down beside Lily’s window. The curtains were back and the light was on.
Lily wasn’t there.
Damn. She must have gone to the loo. James huddled into his scarf and waited for her to come back. After ten minutes, there was no sign of her. He flew round to the bathroom window. The light was off. There were no other lights on in the house but he shone a light through every window, in case she had fallen asleep somewhere. There was no sign of her.
He flew back up but she still wasn’t in bed.
Heart cold, James waited.
After an hour, he gave up, and flew home slowly through the cold sky.
