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imaginejamesandsirius · 1 year

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Hi!! Can you do one where Sirius is offered a modeling job at Sleekeazy’s and James initially thought it was funny but not after everyone started pining for him (even more than usual). Feelings realization + possessive/jealous! James pls... thank you~~

Sirius walked into their flat with a grin on his face. He looked breathtakingly beautiful, as always. It was something James always noticed about him, but that didn't make it less impactful-- sort of like the way the sun was bright: an everyday occurrence but no less noticeable for it. "Guess what happened today?" he asked.

"You finally got the kids at the playground to pet you?"

Sirius didn't bother to glare at him for the joke, which meant that whatever news he had, it was big. He took off his jacket and hung it on the hook but didn't bother with his shoes.

Yes, James watched his every move. No, he didn't care to change that habit. It's not like Sirius didn't know he did it. Sirius had caught his staring back in Hogwarts and never told him to stop; as far as their relationship was concerned, that was Sirius telling him that he could look as much as he wanted.

"Are you ready for this?" Sirius asked as he sat sideways on the couch, one leg bent so his foot hung off the cushion. "You don't look like you're ready. Mentally prepare yourself, James."

"For Godric's sake, just tell me," James said, as if annoyed, but he was grinning.

"I got a modeling job at Sleekeazy's."

A laugh ripped out of James, hurting his throat a little, but Merlin, he couldn't keep it in even if he wanted to. Sirius was gorgeous and always willing to pose in front of a camera, but modeling?

Sirius was laughing along with him, both of them finding the situation more than a little ridiculous.

When he could finally speak instead of laughing-- a venture that took a few tries before it worked-- James asked, "How in the world did that happen?"

"Gods," Sirius said, still snickering, "do you remember that auror calendar they asked us to do?"

"Yeah." Their auror careers had been short lived, with the both of them quitting as soon as the war was over; the ideals of being in law enforcement couldn't compare with the realities of the job, and neither of them had been willing to put up with all the rubbish and corruption it entailed.

"They had a copy, I guess, and when they were thinking about who to use for their new campaign, they thought of me."

James wrinkled his nose to affect disgust and said, "You sure you want to work with people that've jerked it to a photo of you?"

"If I held to that rule, I'd never work with anyone ever again," Sirius said, sending both of them into new peals of laughter.

"And now you're giving everyone new material," James cooed, patting Sirius on the cheek. "You're so selfless."

"I know. It's one of my best qualities."

"Tied for first with all of your other qualities," James said, nodding sagely.

"And don't you forget it," Sirius said, wrapping his fingers around James's arm and moved James's hand from his cheek to his shoulder.

His fingers were thick and strong, just like the rest of him was. James had had more than one fantasy about Sirius's hands, and he liked how they felt against his skin like this, even in such a non-sexual manner. Him and Sirius were so comfortable around each other. James could tell Sirius that he thought about him when he tossed off, and Sirius would probably shrug and say 'of course you do' and nothing between them would change. He wondered, sometimes, if it was like that for Sirius too. If Sirius ever thought about how handsome James was and touched himself thinking about it. That was a nice thought; he liked when they were equal in everything.

James chuckled, pulling himself away from those thoughts. "Merlin, I can't believe you're going to model."

"Right? I could've cashed in on my good looks years ago, and I didn't think to. I wouldn't have had to bother with the shop at all."

"Yeah, right," James snorted. Sirius loved that shop. Nothing on the planet could've stopped him from spending his days breaking curses on household objects, including modeling and entering dog shows-- he'd gotten third the one time they did it, and James had been so offended by that placement that they hadn't tried again.

"Watch yourself James, in a month I'll be more famous than you can handle."

"I'm sure," James said, taking his hand off Sirius's shoulder to boop his nose.

Sirius swat his hand away, so he did it again.

That was an invitation as far as Sirius was concerned, so he transformed into Padfoot and easily knocked James over and sat on his stomach, tail wagging in satisfaction as James alternated between laughing and ineffectually trying to push him off. They really wanted to make this arse a model? Best of luck to them.

Sirius's modeling rapidly went from the funniest thing in James's life, to the most terrible.

Everyone had seen the pictures from Sleekeazy's new advertisements. Everyone.

Two teammates and four associates in Puddlemere asked James if Sirius was single and if he thought his best mate would be interested in going on a date with him. Marlene reported that three of her coworkers at The Prophet asked her if Sirius would be interested in a 'private interview'. Lily said that more than one of her students at Hogwarts carried a cut out picture of Sirius with them. Rosmerta had jokingly asked if Sirius would sign one of the pictures for her (he did so with a wink), and the next time they came in, she told them that she'd had to use a sticking charm on it so no one would lift it as they exited. They'd all had a good laugh over that when Rosmerta told them that, but James's had been a little forced.

It all drove James mad. He tried to keep a good humour about it, but it was impossible.

This was different than what used to happen. This wasn't people doing a double take when they saw Sirius, or someone's eyes trailing after him like they couldn't believe someone so handsome was walking the earth. It had never bothered James before. He used to laugh about it with Sirius and argue over which of them the person was actually checking out.

It stopped being funny when James realised that everyone felt entitled to a piece of Sirius. They thought they could ask for a moment of his time, an autograph, a date. Whether James was stood right next to him or not, people would go up to Sirius and ask him out. This sort of thing had happened at Hogwarts too, and James had hated it as much then as he hated it now. It wasn't just that people usually ignored him to talk to Sirius, it was... bugger, he didn't even know what about it he hated so much, but it was horrible. People came up to Sirius in public, and he had to pause his conversation with James so he could let them down gently. James used to at least attempt to be kind about it and wait patiently, but after every single outing getting interrupted several times, he'd had enough.

The next time they were walking down Diagon Alley and someone said, "Excuse me, but you're Sirius Black, aren't you? The new model for Sleekeazy's?"

Sirius slowed to do his usual niceties, but James was done with this shite. "He's busy with someone who actually knows him." He didn't bother trying to sound nice, because there was no way to make that sound nice.

She blinked up at him. "I just-"

"Do us all a favour and bugger off," James said, but he didn't trust that she would. He grabbed Sirius's arm and continued on their way. Sirius didn't offer resistance as James dragged him away, but he could sense his confusion. He didn't bother to explain himself.

After their was enough distance between them, James let go of his arm.

"What was that about?" Sirius asked.

"What was what about?"

"Don't play dumb. Blowing that person off back there."

James glanced at Sirius and knew he wouldn't be able to brush this off. But hell if he wasn't going to try. "I'm just hungry. Some of the people that want to talk to you never shut it."

Sirius hummed, not buying James's excuse for a second, but he didn't ask about it further as they walked.

He didn't ask about it all through lunch, either.

James could see the confrontation coming and knew it wouldn't be pretty, like a horde of Blast-Ended Skrewts cresting a hill.

As soon as they got home, Sirius rounded on him, anger writ across his face. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Relax, it's not as if my trainer will know I had a basket of chips with lunch," James said. Despite the words, he didn't bother to play innocent or pretend that he didn't know that Sirius was talking about something else. He said it flatly, looking Sirius dead in the eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Sirius's jaw ticked. "James," he growled.

"I'm tired of the way everyone treats you."

"Like a minor celebrity?"

"Like they want to eat you alive," James corrected, narrowing his eyes at Sirius, daring him to say that wasn't what was happening. "You can't sodding tell me that you don't know what they think about you."

"So what? A couple random arse people think they want to date me because I'm hot, and you lose your head?"

"Yes, because it's ridiculous!"

"It's ridiculous that people want to date me?" Sirius asked, eyes hard and blazing as he glared at James across the small amount of space separating them. it was little more than an arm's length between them. One step forward, arm extended, and one of them could put a hand on the other's shoulder. Neither of them did it. It wasn't that sort of disagreement.

"It's ridiculous that they think they're worth your time."

"Oh you've got to be sodding kidding me. Seriously? This is some weird possessiveness because you don't like to share your toys?"

"You're not a toy," James snapped. "You're my best mate, and none of them know you!"

"So what? They've got a crush but aren't allowed to act on it because you don't think they know me well enough?"

"They don't know you, so they shouldn't be bothering you!"

"Who said they were bothering me? I've never been bothered by it."

"Lie to yourself if you want, but don't lie to me," James bit out. Sirius covered it well, but James could see the way it chipped at him every time he had to pull up a certain level of politeness when he thought he was simply existing with James in public.

"You don't speak for me," Sirius snapped back.

"Maybe I should if you're going to lie about it."

"Put me in a box then. Take me out and dust me off when you invite people over. Tell me who I'm allowed to talk to and for how long, and about what, and maybe you'll be happy. Merlin forbid you let me live my life without you breathing down my neck."

James didn't believe for a second that Sirius really thought that, but he'd gotten under his skin. He'd made Sirius upset enough that he wanted to lash out. He'd tried to be logical with James in the beginning and it hadn't worked, so now he'd moved into trying to scare him to back off.

It would've worked if James didn't know better. It had worked the first few times they got into real arguments back at Hogwarts, but then he had learned the flow of it. It didn't work anymore, but that didn't stop Sirius from trying, from trying to protect himself when he felt vulnerable and didn't know what else to do.

James stepped forward, put a hand on the back of Sirius's neck, and yanked him closer in quick succession, quick enough that Sirius didn't really know what was happening until it was done. "If you aren't going to tell people to bugger off when you want space," James said in the scant space between their faces, his voice low and dangerous, "then I will." He breathed in, then out. "And I don't care if it pisses you off."

"What if I don't want space?"

"You do."

"You want that space between us more than I do," Sirius said, and James knew that 'us' meant the fans, the people that were always fawning over him and his photos.

But to James, it felt like it meant more than that. 'Us' like the fans, but also 'us' meaning the two of them.

They were standing close. Close enough that James could easily kiss him, and if anyone else had been standing like this, James would've thought snogging was an inevitability. He was the one that had initiated it, but Sirius hadn't pulled away; he didn't look the least bit uncomfortable with it. That fire within his eyes had grown, and it felt-- all of a sudden-- like he was waiting for James to do something, like he'd wanted that something for a while, but James had never noticed before.

He jerked forward, kissing Sirius hard.

There wasn't a moment's hesitation in Sirius kissing him back, hands going around James's waist and curling over his back in an instant. James licked into his mouth, and he moaned. Every hint James gave that he wanted something, and Sirius would give him that and more.

Long before Sirius pulled him into his room, James knew that he loved him.

Being in love with Sirius wasn't new, he realised. It was like the stones inside Hogwarts being white. They'd always been white, but it wasn't until someone said it to his face that he acknowledged and really thought about it. Yeah, the stones were white. He'd known it, it had always been true, but he hadn't thought about it in those exact terms before. Of course he was in love with Sirius and had been for more years than he could count on one hand, but he hadn't thought about it exactly like that before.

#bambibelle #prongsfoot #fanfic #james potter #sirius black #marauders #filled #getting together #post first war #siriuslystarbucks

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imaginejamesandsirius · 2 years

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✨maybe one where sirius breaks out of azkaban and goes on a mad quest to bring james back to life. He looks into ancient rituals (he decides on the one medea used to trick those girls into killing their dad- a boiling potion you throw the dead thing into and they come out young and very much alive. (In the myth it worked the first time but she made a fake one for the dad but whatever)) queue some grave robbing: and sirius, a genius, does manage to pull it off! But he makes a mistake and james is 12 years older than when he died (which works out nicely) and james is having issues recalling anyone besides sirius. With maybe some gentle sirius caring for james (who is pretty much uselessly weak for a while)

Sirius looked through the bars out onto the ocean. Azkaban was a shithole. He felt like he didn't belong here in the same breath that he knew he deserved some sort of punishment for bungling up everything so bad. James, dead. Harry, off with Hagrid and wherever Dumbledore had sent him-- Sirius didn't think for a second that Hagrid had been allowed to take Harry in, anymore than they would've let Remus.

If he'd done what he should have and stayed with Harry, he wouldn't be in here, but he'd been blinded by grief. It had been months, but thinking about it still made his heart clench painfully and tears well in his eyes. If he'd been there with James, like he was supposed to be and was always meant to be, they would've been able to get away; James would still be alive.

James would be alive.

He wished there was something he could do. The waves crashed against the building. Sirius wondered what it would be like to feel it for real instead of getting the undefined wetness that came into his cell from the wind.

He'd give anything to see James again, just to see his smile one more time.

Another wave crashed into the building, bringing with it the thought: well, why not? Why couldn't Sirius see him one more time? Why couldn't he bring him back? There was nothing stopping him from trying. He was in Azkaban, and that was stopping him for now but he could get out; he was an animagus, it wouldn't be that hard to get out with the vast majority of guards being dementors-- dementors, who didn't have eyes or brains and he already knew couldn't tell that he was even there when he was Padfoot.

He'd stayed in Azkaban because he felt he deserved it for failing James. He never left because the only reason he had to get out was Harry. But even if he could find Harry, he wouldn't be able to raise him when he was on the run from the law and what kind of life would that be for a kid?

Sirius shifted into Padfoot. The dementors that had been hovering nearby, feeding off of his newfound hope drifted away. They couldn't get anything from him like this, so there was no point in lingering when they could drain the will to live from some other poor sod.

But he couldn't linger on that, so he slipped through the bars. 'Slipped' was a bit of a euphemism. He had to press and wriggle and twist to force his way out. The bars were close together, but they weren't the main thing keeping the inmates in their cells. That didn't mean they were easy to get through, but he managed it. His desire to get out was far stronger than their ability to keep him in. Once free of his cell, he had to be careful not to get spotted by any of the human guards. The dementors passed by him like he wasn't there, but another wizard would know something was wrong the second they saw him. They might think he was a Grim instead of an animagus, which would be kind of funny actually, but he still didn't want to risk it. Anything that made them look closer was bad for him.

It would take them a little bit to figure out he was gone, and he'd need every second of that time. First, he had to swim to shore, then he had to find his way to a Black property. Grimmauld Place was probably where his mother was still living, but the others should all be uninhabited. Disowned he might be, but the wards were keyed to blood, and whether he liked it or not, he was a Black by blood and nothing could change that. Usually, he didn't like that, but this time, it was going to come in handy. He'd read plenty of restricted books as a child, all of them found in the family libraries.

He reached the end of an open hallway, sighed, then took a running jump into the water. This would be the easy part, and he couldn't hesitate. It was only going to get more difficult from here, and if he wavered so soon, he'd never succeed. Finding the right ritual would be ridiculously difficult, but he was sure that performing it wouldn't be a piece of cake either. He took that jump and decided that he wasn't going to look back. He wasn't going to second guess this decision; he couldn't afford to.

Myths and legends had more power than people liked to think. So many of them were fake stories that the whole lot had been thrown out by most wizards.

Fortunately, Sirius paid attention, and he knew magic. Potions might not be his forte, but he understood rituals like no one else. It's why it had been so easy for him to become an animagus despite the fact that everyone said the process was supposed to be incredibly difficult. Rituals required prolonged attention. They required focus. Even finding the appropriate ritual for a person's situation took perseverance, and weeded out most of the people that wouldn't be able to complete the ritual properly.

Sirius was not one of those people. He knew what he was doing. He was thorough, he did his research, and he had nothing but time on his hands. There were things he wanted to get done, but none of them were half as important as getting this done. As soon as he got James back, he could worry about the rest.

He could try to get his name cleared, he could find Harry and offer him whatever help he could, and he could see about finding a real place to live because Black properties could be worse, but they still weren't places he wanted to stay. Too much history, and far too many bad memories of when he'd been stuck with them full time. Eventually, he'd have to find a new place to stay, but that wouldn't matter until after he got James back.

He read all the stories they had on resurrection and healing. He read the commentaries that they had, because of course there were commentaries-- the Black's were a lot of things, and at least half of those were opinionated.

Sirius knew what he was looking for, and while he wanted to make really sure before he started, he had an inkling that he'd found it after he read the myth. Medea. The exact details in the myth differed based on edition, but Sirius knew that it was what he needed. Medea took an old ram and killed it. She stripped the bones clean and rubbed them with a salve. Then she threw them into a potion, added a few more ingredients, and the same ram appeared only young and healthy.

In the myth, Medea did it to trick people into killing their father because she couldn't afford to get more blood on her hands. The children killed their father and tried to resurrect him by throwing the bits of him into the same potion that Medea had used, but it didn't work; they didn't follow the proper steps, so their father remained dead (and Medea got what she wanted, but that part wasn't as important to Sirius).

The potion ingredients were important-- as they always were-- but for something like this, he thought there was a little bit of wiggle room. If he got the right properties and did it in the correct order, it should work, even if he didn't get the exact same potion ingredients. Still, the closer he could get, the better his chances of success.

So he did his research, he scoured through books, and he hunted around for the ingredients that he needed.

Medea had been the child of a god, so she'd been able to bring back a ram that she had no particular attachment to. Sirius was only human, and he'd read enough musings from Black ancestors that he was convinced this would work because James was important to him. It wasn't enough that Sirius loved him, he needed to be the single most important person in the world to him, and he was. Devotion. It was a key component in the ritual. That, at least, he could guarantee he had correct. Granted, Medea's goal had been different, her devotion aimed elsewhere, but Sirius knew that he had this part correct. For the rest of it, there was a chance that there was an alternative that might be more accurate to the original, but he wasn't sure. he couldn't be sure. Medea hadn't exactly written out the instructions for how to do this properly.

The two most important physical ingredients weren't going to be a walk in the park. First, James's remains. He was going to have to go dig them up. Grave robbing left a sick feeling in his stomach, and he'd need to be careful not to get caught. If he got caught stealing someone's corpse, it would be worse than if he simply got thrown back in Azkaban. Wizards had strict rules about disturbing the dead. Killing a dozen muggles would pale in comparison to that, in their minds. Not that Sirius had killed anyone, but still. Second, Sirius's blood. He needed a lot of it, and he wasn't really sure how to get it out. He was more worried about stealing James's body though. The thought of drawing blood out of himself wasn't fun, but it didn't have the societal attitude towards it that grave robbing did.

He didn't want to disturb James's grave. It seemed so disrespectful. This was his best friend, his everything, and he was about to dig up his body and use it in an experiment. He knew it wasn't that simple, that this wasn't merely an experiment or something he was doing on a whim. He knew that James would forgive him in a second if it worked, but if it didn't work and he did this, then what would be the bright side?

He brushed those thoughts away as he turned into Padfoot and headed for Godric's Hollow. Doubt would lead to failure, and he couldn't fail.

Rituals were messy. Merlin, why were they so messy? There were fluids everywhere, feathers sticking to the side of the wall where they didn't need to be, and Sirius had sweated through his clothes two hours ago. He'd started the ritual this morning, and once he started, he couldn't stop, not if he wanted it to succeed. The air smelled strongly of lavender, and he couldn't air out the room because he needed it to be saturated.

His stomach growled in hunger but he ignored it. He was close. He was so close. Magic buzzed around the room like lightning on a low burn, letting him know that he had done everything right so far. The cauldron bubbled in the center of the room, keeping it uncomfortably warm. He rubbed sweat from his face with the edge of his shirt, but the shirt was already moist so it didn't do much.

Moment of truth, he thought, reaching for James's bones. He'd rubbed the salve into them earlier, letting them steep, and now they looked pink from the mixture. He tipped the bones into the cauldron, hissing in pain when a splash of boiling water hit his arm. He shook it off, reached for the bowl that held the final ingredients, and threw them on top.

For two heart stopping seconds, nothing happened. Sirius watched the herbs swirl in the water as they seemingly had no reaction to the potion.

Then, with a rumble like thunder, it worked. The level of liquid in the cauldron sank low, the fire underneath put itself out, and moments later, James was there, falling to the floor like he'd been pushed from over the edge of the massive pot.

"James," he breathed, then rushed over to help him.

He looked up at Sirius and smiled. He didn't have his glasses or clothes at all, and the only worrying thing about that was how thin he was. Sirius must've gotten something in the ritual wrong, because he didn't look as healthy as he should have. But he was alive and smiling at Sirius like he always had. "Hey." He glanced around them, taking in the mess that had been made of the room-- not that Sirius cared how bad the room or he himself looked because it had worked. "What happened?"

Sirius was too choked up to speak, so he just shook his head and pulled James into a hug. He didn't bother to try and keep the tears at bay. James was back. He was alive, he was okay, and that was a sodding miracle.

"I have a son?" James asked, frowning.

"Yeah, Harry. You don't remember him?"

He shook his head.

"It's okay. The ritual didn't exactly have a manual, it's not wonder I messed up. I'm sure your memory will come back," Sirius said, and it wasn't an empty platitude. He did think that James's memories would come back. He might've bungled up the ritual a bit, but he hadn't gotten it that wrong. James was too thin and his memory was pretty spotty when it came to everything other than Sirius, but he was already starting to recover. He was keeping all his food down, even if it didn't look like he'd started gaining weight yet. The first day-- after a very long nap-- he hadn't been able to remember any of their friends, but earlier today, he'd mentioned Moony being a werewolf, so clearly he'd made some progress without Sirius having to tell him stories to trigger any memories.

"I think you did a pretty good job," James said, which was so very James. He always comforted Sirius. Always told him that it wasn't that bad when he buggered up, always was there for him. It was no wonder that Sirius had fallen to pieces when James wasn't there anymore. He hadn't been able to breathe without him.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked, and James froze, taking on a distinct deer in the headlights look.

"Erm. Nothing?"

"Uh-huh, that's what it looks like," Sirius said dryly.

He was half out of bed, in spite of the fact that he wasn't strong enough to try and walk anywhere on his own. When Sirius caught him, he shuffled back into bed. Or at least, he tried to. Sirius went over to help him. He wasn't uncoordinated, he was just weak. James had made progress, even if he seemed to think it wasn't good enough. He didn't need help eating anymore, but he had when he'd first gotten back.

"Thanks," James muttered after Sirius helped him get comfortable.

Sirius glanced at him. "Something wrong?"

"Don't you hate this?"

"Hate what?"

"Helping me all the time," James said. "I can't do anything without you. Doesn't it bother you?"

"No. You were dead, and now you're back. There's pretty much nothing I wouldn't do for you. Helping you when you need it is nothing. Besides, you'd do the same for me, if the positions were reversed. Don't even try to pretend that you wouldn't; I know better," Sirius said with a grin.

"Of course I'd do it for you."

"Then what's so hard to believe about this?"

"It's not hard to believe," James said, making a face. "It's... different. We used to be the same, you know? We were equal."

"We're still equal," Sirius said.

"It doesn't feel equal."

"You just need help," Sirius said, covering James's hands with his own. "Everyone needs help sometimes. Like when you're well enough that we can go get Harry. You think I could raise him on my own?"

"Yes."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You're not helping me prove my point."

"No, no I get what you're saying," James said. He turned his hand over so he could give Sirius's fingers a small squeeze. "I just wanted to get the magazine over there. I thought that if I took it slow, I'd be able to get it, and then when you came in, you could see that I was able to do it on my own, and you'd stop worrying as much."

"I'm never going to stop worrying about you," Sirius said. That hadn't always been true, but it was now. James could've come back to life perfectly healthy, and Sirius would be just as worried as he currently was. James had died. He knew what it was like to lose him, and he wasn't going to take it for granted.

Sirius helped James into the tub, then reached for a bottle.

"Why'd you do it?" James asked as Sirius lathered shampoo into his hair.

"Do what?"

"Go after Peter. Killing him wouldn't have made you feel better."

"You think so?" Sirius asked neutrally.

"You were in pain. You were grieving. Revenge doesn't make the pain go away, and it wouldn't have brought me back."

"You will notice that after I escaped Azkaban, I worked on bringing you back instead of revenge."

"You got angry," James surmised.

"Of course I was angry. Tip your head back."

James did, and Sirius started to rinse his hair. "I just mean that when I'm involved and you get angry, you can't think. I used to feel guilty for that, you know?"

"Why would you feel guilty?"

"I thought it was my fault. That I'd done something to make you like me more, and so you didn't care about other people." James chuckled. "Then I realized that I was in love with you, and it turned out you were in love with me too, so I stopped worrying about it as much. Love is..."

"Powerful," Sirius supplied, and James hummed in agreement. "It's how I knew Medea's myth was the right one. She did it for love."

"If I call you a sap, are you going to pour cold water on me?"

"No."

James grinned. "Sap."

"How rude!" Sirius gasped. "Betrayed in my own home."

"In your own washroom, even. I'm positively evil," James said.

"Yeah, you look real evil." Sirius leaned down and pressed a kiss to his wet forehead. "Ferocious, even."

"How could I not with my own Medea taking care of me?"

#prongsfoot #marauders #fanfic #james potter #sirius black #filled #established relationship #post first war #james lives #siriuslystarbucks

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