#resurrected james

James had been dead, but Sirius had been alive. Even with him being in Azkaban, he'd had time to move past their relationship. He'd had time to grow up and want something different from what he'd had as a teenager. As much as it hurt James to think about, he'd had time to fall in love with someone else.

And he had.

James watched. He spent all his time these days staring at Sirius, so it was easy to notice how he lit up when Moony entered the room. He took note of every single time Sirius asked him to stay a little bit longer, and how crushed he was when Moony had to leave. Every once in a while, with a guilty glance out of the corner of his eye at James, Sirius would ask to speak to Remus alone for a minute. It never took Sirius long to return in those instances, like he was afraid James would burst in and ask what they were doing; he didn't, but it wasn't for lack of desire.

The thing was, James couldn't imagine a world where he wasn't utterly in love with Sirius. It used to be like that for both of them. However powerful James's feelings were, Sirius had been able to match him, beat for beat, pace for pace.

And now...

Now it felt like missing half of his foot. Like most of the time he wouldn't notice it because everything seemed normal, but the time where he did notice that he was missing something, it threw him completely off balance. He'd go to kiss Sirius and realise that he wasn't allowed to do that anymore. Sometimes they'd be talking like nothing had happened, like James wasn't the only twenty year old around. They'd be laughing and joking, and James would look at him, only to pull up short when he saw his face. Sirius was older than him, and he looked it. 

It's not that Sirius was unattractive for his extra years. 

Quite the opposite, in fact. It should've been impossible to become even more handsome than he'd been. It should've been impossible because of Azkaban and the damage it did to him. It also should've been impossible because he was by far the most attractive person on the planet when James had died, so there should've been no improving on perfection.

But somehow, Sirius had managed it. He got better with every passing year.

Years that James hadn't been around for.

Years that they could never get back.

No amount of crying would let James turn back the clock and cling to Sirius and beg him to wait for him because he would ensure that the wait was worth it. It was too late to try and ask for it now, but that didn't mean James didn't think of it. Because he did. Often.

As he curled into bed, alone, he would hug his knees and imagine what it would be like if he tried it now. If he burst into his room and kissed him breathless. Would it work? Would Sirius kiss him back? Or would he have to ease away with a gentle hand on James's chest as he turned him down?

At the start, his daydreams ended in his favour. Sirius would pull him closer and ask him to stay forever.

It didn't take very long for the daydreams to turn into nightmares. Sometimes they were realistic, and Sirius would try to let him down as gently as he could, but of course James still ended those crying because losing him was a wound that didn't heal.

The more time went on though, the more he imagined Sirius being disgusted by him. He could picture the way he'd pull away and look at James like he didn't know him. "What the hell are you thinking?" he would ask, wiping off his mouth with the back of one hand like he couldn't bear any lingering touch of him. "You're practically a kid, and I'm not one anymore. Look at someone your own age, for Merlin's sake." And even though it was his room that James had barged in on, he'd get up and leave, because he couldn't stand to be around him anymore.

James knew that would never happen. No matter what else they were to each other, they were always mates. Sirius had never been disgusted by him, and he never would be, but their friendship now wasn't as solid as it had been when he died. There had been times where James could swear they were reading each other's minds, and while they were certainly close now, it was nowhere close to what they used to have.

He sighed as he stared blankly at the ceiling. Sirius's innocence was pending, but for now, he was still stuck at Grimmauld Place. Sirius had offered him his brother's old room since it was the nicest one. It was alright as far as consolation prizes went, but he would've given anything to be in bed with Sirius, curled into his heat instead of being glared at by all the green.

His mind went round and round over this, and he never felt better. It he accomplished anything, it was to feel worse because he'd more thoroughly proven to himself that he didn't stand a chance at rebuilding their life together.

When Sirius got out of here, he was probably going to find a place with Moony. Somewhere good, like what Remus had never had before because he couldn't afford it. Somewhere homey and worn in, because that had always been what Sirius liked.

And James wouldn't be invited along. He'd have to find somewhere of his own to live. And what a depressing, lonely life that would be.

He didn't want to be anywhere Sirius wasn't, but he couldn't latch onto his arm and demand that he hold onto the past instead of continuing to move forward.

He should get out of bed. He knew he should.

He just had trouble convincing himself it would be worth it.

If he got out of bed now, he'd be able to eat.

But if he stayed in bed for long enough, Sirius would come to check on him. He'd sit down on the bed, maybe put a hand on James's shoulder and let the warmth from his palm seep through the fabric of his sleep clothes.

...and he really didn't feel like getting out of bed.

He rubbed a hand over his face and rolled onto his side, back to the door.

Not to sound melodramatic, but he didn't see what point there was to getting up. He didn't do anything these days. He just smiled at Sirius as his heart screamed out in pain and did nothing all day because Harry was back at Hogwarts. Sirius would hand him books from the Black library and suggest games even though it was obvious he had no interest in playing.

It was a waste of time. Every day, all he did was waste time. What was the point? He might as well just lay in bed for as long as he wanted. It's not as if he had a schedule to keep to or a baby that needed him. Harry was happy to have him around, but James was far too young to try and be a father to him. There was a measly six year age difference between them, not near enough for James to try and parent Harry, no matter how much he wanted to, at various times over the summer.

He was comfortable in this bed-- in spite of all the green-- so he might as well stay right where he was. Sirius didn't need him either. Like with Harry, Sirius was happy to have him around, but he was more a figment of the past than he was an active part of the present.

They wouldn't have been happier if he stayed gone; he wasn't so far removed as to believe that. But it sucked. He was living between the two times, suspended and trapped because he couldn't commit to either. He tried to adapt to what life had given him, but-

For fuck's sake, he couldn't walk down the street holding Sirius's hand, and that's all he'd really wanted from his future.

If he had to isolate his dreams for the future into one, single thing, it would've been that.

And he didn't have it.

Couldn't have it.

He couldn't have it because Sirius's freedom hadn't been pushed through yet, and even when it did, he was in love with someone else. James was just... extra. He'd never thought he would be 'extra' when it came to Sirius, but that's what he was.

He pulled the pillow out from under his head and shoved it on top of the other side, blacking out his vision. This side of the pillow on his face was cool, and it gave him something else to think about. He liked that. Getting to think about something else for a minute, that is. It was nice. It was a break from the monotony going on in his mind.

Sirius did eventually come in to find James, but he couldn't say how long it had been. He fell into that hazy space where he was neither fully awake nor fully asleep. It could've been twenty minutes, or it could've been four hours; James had no idea, and he didn't particularly care which it was. At least he didn't feel tired, but there was no telling how long that feeling would last once he got out of bed and dressed for the day.

Sirius opened the door, his footsteps light like he didn't want to wake James if he was asleep. "Jamie? You awake?"

And that was another thing: Jamie. Sirius was the only one who was allowed to call him that. His parents had done it when he was a kid, but by the time he made it to Hogwarts, he felt that he was too old for it. It was a kid nickname, he'd told them. But then fourth year had come around, and Sirius had kissed him and called him Jamie, and he decided that it wasn't a kid's nickname if it was coming out of Sirius's mouth.

James made a vague noise to try and communicate that he was awake, but he must not have been clear enough, because Sirius padded closer.

"Are you sick?"

"'m fine," he mumbled. He pushed himself up slowly, wincing a little at the ache in his back. Apparently, he had stayed in bed too long. It hadn't felt like it when he was still laying down, but now he couldn't help but grimace.

Sirius wasn't willing to take his word for it though, and he put the back of his hand against James's forehead. "It doesn't feel like you're running a fever."

"I just wanted to sleep in. I'm not sick," James insisted.

Sirius ignored that too and moved his hand to James's cheek. His touch was light, but James could feel the knuckles of each finger pressed into his skin. 

He felt like a child.

Like Sirius was responsible for him, so he was checking in like a guardian would.

The thought made James's heart drop, not that he was surprised by it. He knew that Sirius couldn't still think of him like an equal. He'd been alive for over ten years longer than James; of course he would grow past him.

"You sure you're okay?" Sirius asked. He took his hand away, and James tried not to snatch it back. He sat down on the bed, next to James's knees. He put a hand out, over James's legs, and leaned into it. It should've been close and intimate, but all James could think was that it didn't mean what he wanted it to.

"I'm fine," James said, even as his eyes traced the length of Sirius's arm. Every bone, every muscle, every hair. He wanted to re-memorise it so he could trace it in his sleep like he used to be able to. 

"If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to," he said, which was so wrong coming out of his mouth, "but I wish you'd talk to someone. If you miss Harry-"

"That's not it," James cut in. He did miss Harry, but his kid was little more than a concept and a stranger rolled into one. He loved him, there was no doubt that he loved him, but it wasn't the sort of love that he could miss after so little time apart, especially when he knew that Harry would contact him if there was something wrong-- or even if he wanted to talk. "I mean, I'm fine, but if there was something bothering me, that wouldn't be it." He barely stopped himself from cringing, because that was such an unbelievable lie, there was no way that Sirius would buy it. To try and prevent any further discussion about a topic he couldn't get into with Sirius, he extricated himself from the bed and headed to the wardrobe. "I'll meet you downstairs in a few, yeah?"

"...Yeah."

James didn't trust that pause before Sirius agreed, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He felt like that a lot these days: that there was nothing he could do. He used to not believe in it, not really. There was always something that could be done, and him and Sirius had found great joy in finding the best course and jumping into it headfirst. But this... this wasn't something he could fix. What little there was to be done had already been started, and it couldn't be rushed.

What happened to his zeal for life?

He remembered a second later: it died when his relationship with Sirius did.

Lily had said it wasn't healthy how obsessed he was with Sirius, but what did she know? She pretended to be married to him while pining after someone that didn't seem to know she existed. She also had that whole denial thing going on with her parents, and a sister who she constantly kept in contact with even though she hated her. She hadn't been a pillar of healthy relationships herself.

*

Sirius wasn't making this easy on him.

Every time he turned around, there was Sirius with a happy smile and an arm over his shoulders. He kept asking if James wanted to help him cook, which was a trap, because like hell was James going to turn him down, and then it turned out that the recipes Sirius kept choosing were long and/or complicated, so they'd been spending a couple hours together before it was time to eat.

And yes, that is generally what James liked, and he'd be lying if it didn't help his disposition somewhat, but there was no getting past the sticking point: Sirius wasn't in love with him anymore. Not only was Sirius not in love with him anymore, but he was dating someone else! A someone that was kind, and a friend, and deserved good things, and did not need for James to try and steal that one, shining good thing out from under him. Not that James was convinced he could steal Sirius away from Moony, but... well, he thought he could make a decent go of it if he really tried. He knew how to push all of Sirius's buttons, how to rile him up, and how to make himself look irresistible.

If Sirius had any lingering feelings, James was sure he could bring them to the surface.

But he couldn't do that. Sirius and Remus were happy together, even if Moony was busy most days and couldn't visit, and if James got in the middle of that, he'd never forgive himself. It was like the end of their seventh year, he mused. He had thought that Sirius was interested in some bloke from Ravenclaw, and while James had been mad with jealousy, he hadn't actually gotten in the way or tried to stop it, because if that's what Sirius wanted, then by Merlin, Sirius would get to have it. That had been a misunderstanding of course. Sirius had only wanted to know more about the muggle punk scene, and that was the only other student in Hogwarts he could talk to about it.

James wished there was a similar misunderstanding here, but he knew he couldn't hold out hope. There was no mistaking the way Sirius perked up every time Moony visited. The guilty looks towards James when they wanted time alone together was another good indicator. Time and again, James turned those memories over in his head, looking for a flaw in his logic or a way he might've misconstrued a friendly gesture for something more, but he came to the same conclusion every time. They were a couple, and there was nothing James could do about it-- or at least nothing he was willing to do, which basically meant that he couldn't do it. It might as well be physically impossible for all the good it would do him.

Sirius wanted them to be mates, and more than that, he wanted them to be close like they'd been before, so James tried to push down his treacherous thoughts and focus on what was in front of him. The only thing worse than losing Sirius as a romantic partner was if he lost him as a friend.

*

James used to be pretty confident. Actually, that was an understatement. He'd been completely confident. Arrogant, even, because he was fit, smart, funny, and he'd had the partner of his dreams (even if they couldn't be open about their relationship). He'd been a bloody catch and he wasn't in denial about it.

But now when he looked in the mirror, all he could see were flaws. Rather, the things about him that used to be good were no longer good enough. Sure he was fit for his age, but he looked so Merlin's-cursed young. There was no way Sirius would be interested. He was funny, but his sense of humour hadn't had a chance to grow or change at all. The best he could offer Sirius was nostalgia, and nostalgia did not a steady relationship make. It didn't matter if he was smart anymore, because Sirius had been learning so much while James was dead. He was sure he could catch up if he tried, but there was no replacing life experience-- and of that, Sirius definitely had more than him. And did it matter how good James was at thinking on his feet when neither of them were leaving the house? Even if it did make a difference, that one mark in his favour wouldn't be enough to outweigh all the bad.

Maybe James was still a catch, but he was a catch for someone that was twenty. Not someone who was in their thirties, not someone who had grown and changed while he wasn't around.

To put it mildly, it sucked.

Him and Sirius used to be perfect for each other. They were evenly matched. They were basically one person that had been split into two bodies. James used to think to himself that he wasn't himself if he wasn't with Sirius.

He still thought that, it just meant that he didn't feel like himself these days.

Sirius had long since noticed that something was wrong, but so far, he hadn't pushed. He asked when he was particularly worried, but he hadn't cornered James and demanded answers.

James was trying his best to be okay with, well, everything, but he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to keep up even that thin veneer that he was fine. It hung by a thread most days, and it was only the lack of visitors that kept him from breaking.

But it wouldn't last forever.

Something was going to give, and every bad thought he'd had would come spilling out when that happened.

He just hoped that Harry wouldn't be around to hear it. There was no avoiding Sirius hearing it, but he could probably break down where his son wouldn't see it, if he tried.

*

Sirius was declared free, and the first thing they did was get the hell out of Grimmauld Place. They didn't talk about it first. The Prophet came in, and the main headline was declaring the Azkaban escapee innocent of all charges. They hovered over the article together, eyes frantically scanning the body of text to make sure it wasn't misleading with its title, and then they looked at each other. It was only for a second, but it was enough for them to realise they were in agreement.

They raced to the front door, wrenched it open, and took a few steps out onto the front stoop. It was the first time Sirius had been able to do it without someone haranguing him about taking unnecessary risks or living with the fear of being Kissed by a dementor. They didn't even have their shoes on.

"Let's go somewhere," Sirius said, turning to him with a grin. The steps felt grimy and dirty on the soles of his feet, but it didn't matter.

"Where?"

"I don't care. Anywhere. We can figure it out while we walk," he said, brushing by James to get back in the house. As soon as he got his handful of belongings and Buckbeak out of here, he wasn't going to ever come back. The Order could keep having their meetings in there if they wanted, but like hell was he going to attend.

It was a bit of a scrambling mess as they tried to remember where shoes and jackets were-- and wands, Merlin, when was the last time they'd needed to keep a close eye on their wands?-- but it wasn't long before they were tumbling back onto the street, laughing as they put distance between them and Grimmauld Place. 

Sirius slid a hand into James's like they'd been doing this the whole time. He tugged James down one street, turned a corner, then grinned, bright and happy and looking more like himself with every passing minute. "Remember the muggle diner that used to be right there?" he asked, pointing to a now-empty storefront a few buildings away from them. "I had to sneak out of my window to meet you there."

"What I remember is that time we were snogging outside and that group of blokes saw us and got a stick in their arse about it."

Sirius snickered. "We had to obliviate them to get away."

"And I thought the Ministry would catch our underage magic and you'd get in trouble for sneaking out," James recalled, outright laughing now.

"You were more scared of my parents than the Ministry," he said, looking over at James the way he always used to: like he loved him. Like he was content simply because James insisted.

If James were a better man, he would've looked away or changed the subject, or hell, just asked if he wanted to visit Moony now that he could. He didn't do any of those things. Instead, he smiled softly at Sirius and knew the love he felt for him was plain on his face. After weeks and weeks of trying to hide it (and probably failing to hide it), it was a relief to be able to act like nothing had changed for them. "It never mattered though. We weren't caught."

"We weren't caught when we snuck into the Ministry, either," Sirius said, eyes sparkling.

"We were hardly ever caught for the shite we did."

"Don't tell McGonagall that, she might give us retroactive detentions."

"She could try," James said with a smirk.

Sirius laughed, loud and uninhibited, just like his old self. James hadn't realised how subdued he'd been in Grimmauld Place until now, when he finally was free. Unburdened. There were many things to worry about in their lives, but they weren't weighing him down. He was beautiful. 

They kept walking, pointing at the various places they'd met up when Sirius wasn't allowed to visit the Potter's house. There were more locations than James thought there would be, but after Sirius moved in with him, they'd pretty much tried to forget everything to do with Grimmauld Place. Including the diner where they'd grab a late bite, the coffee shop they'd mixed with their first tastes of liquor, the alley most covered from prying eyes where they'd snog, the clothing store where Sirius had first spotted a leather jacket and fallen in love. On and on the list went, tidbits of memories from their teenage years that they'd forgotten about.

"Let's go home," James said, when he tired of the way passerby's glared at them for holding hands.

Sirius nodded, a warm cast over his features. James didn't have to specify, and Sirius didn't have to ask for clarification. He knew that when he said 'home', he didn't mean where they'd been staying for the past few months. Home meant home, where they lived together for as long as they could after Hogwarts before James had to go in hiding.

He squeezed Sirius's hand tightly and side-alonged him onto the front stoop. A quick wave of his wand unlocked the door, and in they went. Everything was covered in dust, a sad sign of its disuse, but he felt better already.

"Mm, I don't need any help remembering what happened here," Sirius said. He hugged James from behind, pressing them close together. He turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

His heart beat double time from the contact. He didn't want to bring it up, but it was finally time that one of them mentioned it-- and mentioned it before he lost all sense of morals and kissed Sirius for all he was worth. "What about Moony?"

"What about Moony?" Sirius asked, utterly confused.

"Aren't the two of you dating?"

"No," he said immediately. "Why would you think that? Did someone tell you we were? For fuck's sake, if it was Molly again, I'm gonna-"

"Nobody said anything," James cut in, feeling foolish. He'd been so sure that they were together. He thought that he had irrefutable evidence. There had been no doubt in his mind that Sirius was no longer interested in him, but this morning proved just how wrong he'd been. "Merlin, I just- it seemed so obvious, I assumed. You acted like..."

"Like I loved him?"

James gave a small nod.

"No," Sirius said softly. "Just you. It's always been you."

"But you've changed so much, and I'm exactly the same as I was fifteen years ago."

Sirius let go of him then and stepped into view, an incredulous look on his face. "Changed? Jamie, I haven't- I was in Azkaban for twelve years. When I escaped, I was exactly the same. I've been in limbo since then. I've barely talked to anyone, barely changed at all. I'm still the same insecure idiot that fell in love with you when I was thirteen."

"You're not an idiot," James said immediately.

All his defense did was make Sirius smile, because of course that's the part he would address first.

"So you... we're still us?" The hope in every inch of his body and writ across his face was plain.

"Without a doubt."