☆rab(id) lovergirl☆

barty: coincidence

nsfw

James is the worst fucking person on planet Earth, he’s well aware. But god, he can’t help it.

It’s late, and the party derailed several hours ago, and he should just fucking go home. But Sirius is dancing on a table, and those tight leather pants are low enough to reveal the strip of skin between his hipbones, and James’ mouth is watering. Sirius is unaware, in his own little world as he always is, dancing next to Marlene without a care. His head is tipped back so that the tips of his hair graze his lower back, white t-shirt lifted up to put that fucking strip of skin on display.

James would give anything in the world to get it between his teeth—to bite and pull at Sirius’ hipbones, because he knows Sirius likes that. He knows every point on Sirius’ body that makes him squirm, has committed them to faithful memory over years in darkened rooms. Sirius is drunk, too, and James knows how much he likes to be marked up when he’s drunk. Drunk Sirius is another animal—desperate, clawing, loud, unashamed. There’s a heat building in James’ gut.

His eyes trace down the length of Sirius’ body, and then they catch it: between Sirius and Marlene’s bodies, James can see Remus on the other side of the table, watching Sirius with that same all-consuming desire written plain on his face. His eyes are dark, and his legs are spread, and his attention is faithfully plastered on his boyfriend.

Red-hot shame courses through James’ veins, and he tries valiantly to swallow it back down to where it lives deep in his stomach. Sirius isn’t his, but James takes, because he’s greedy, an interloper, a sex-crazed maniac with no regard for anyone else’s feelings when it comes to Sirius Black. 

Remus adjusts in his chair, and James knows exactly what thoughts are going through his head. It’s oddly intimate, to know that Remus is having the same kind of filthy thoughts that James is. And, because he’s drunk, and this whole situation with Sirius has blown away any sense of reason James has ever had, he stalks across the room and crouches down next to Remus’ chair.

Remus doesn’t even notice him. Sirius has thrown an arm around Marlene and is moving their hips together.

“He looks good, doesn’t he?” James says, voice soft for only them to hear.

Remus startles, but refocuses just as quickly. “Yeah,” he breathes, “‘course he does.”

Sirius tips his head back again, and James and Remus’ breaths hitch in unison. Remus creeps his hand forward on the arm of the chair to rest above where James has put his for balance, and that simple act alone doubles his heart rate.

“You thinking about what you’re gonna do to him later?”

Remus tears his attention away to look James up and down. For a moment, James expects Remus to read him for every disgusting, traitorous thing he’s ever done. A tiny smirk settles on his lips, and he leans in to whisper into James’ ear.

“I’m gonna take him home and fuck him until he doesn’t remember your name.”